Timewaster's Guide Archive

In your case, the blending of your parents was so well that it was hard to discern which parent held the most sway in your blood.

>> "...the blending of your parents' humours was so thorough that..."

“You did brew this to make him go numb, correct?” she asked.

  The earlier statement from her about loving unusual cases made me think that she was the one who did the brewing.

The man nodded and reached into his cape.  He pulled another vial out.  “Mathieu, your final chance.  The poison is working even faster than I’d hoped.  If you will join us now, I will give you the antidote.”

  He said they never ask more than twice.  This is the third time.  So I guess earlier he was just being dramatic.

The woman cursed and her face paled under her dark skin.  “He’s a Cold One.”

  So are Cold Ones immune to poison?  If so, how did they drug him to get him in the carriage?

   The Maestro’s hand trembled faintly.  “Non.  The information I received was correct.  It had to be.  It’s never been wrong before.  Never.  We do not make mistakes.  Never,” he whispered.

  This guy seemed too cool to fall apart this way.  I would tone this reaction down a bit.

“Much bloodshed,” she continued.  “I can see it in your mannerisms.  In the way your hand seeks for the hilt of your rapier.  The way your eyes never seem to stop moving.  They are nearly all white now, Mathieu.  How long have they been that way?  Five years?  Ten?  My brother served the Doge’s Army for twelve years before he took a bolt in his leg that left him incapable of walking.  You remind me of him,” she whispered.
   Mathieu swallowed the lump in his throat.  “I don’t like killing.  It tears at you, even after it’s stopped.  Because,” he looked up from the floor.  “It never stops.  Not up here,” he tapped his head.

  Something about this section rang false to me.  I'm not sure what.  Maybe it just sounds too modern. 

Anyhow, I really enjoyed reading your piece.  I like the setting, and I'm interested in how you use humours as a basis for your magic system.  Thanks for sharing!

He cursed and opened his eyes

  Why not have him actually utter some kind of curse?  You clearly have no problem with using strong language, which is usually why people say someone cursed without saying what the curse is.  Plus, this would provide some flavor-- what do they curse by?  What do they consider profane?

Taken with his lightly tanned skin and blue eyes, the man was clearly a black humorist.

I take it that this means his dominant humor is black bile?  If so, why not use the classic name and say that he was "clearly melancholic"?  I'm familiar with the medieval idea of humors, but I still thought of Bill Cosby when I read "black humorist."

He couldn’t decide whether she was of the black or blue humours.

  Okay, since you have more humors than the classic four, and since you spell it humour here, why not say that the man is a black humourist.  Also, why do you italicize it here, and not above?  I don't care which, but I think it ought to be consistent.

“Other’s might say we poisoned you,” the woman added.

  others

if all you desired was to talk you had but only ask.  Especially you, my lady,” he added to the woman.  ...  He often thought such things while in the presence of attractive women, but never before had he the balls to speak them.

  Such things as: she only had to ask him  if she wanted to speak? This is pretty tame.  This is my introduction to the character, but he must be a shy fellow indeed if this is the kind of thing he never had the guts to say before.  Or are you talking about the f-bomb he dropped?  That doesn't make sense because it talks about how he often thought such things, which really seems to be about the flirtiness, not the dirtiness.

“We are of the Sicarii,” the woman said.

  The Sicarii are totally cool.  Does this assassins' guild take its name from the historical Sicarii?  Your story seems to take place in Renaissance Italy, so I think that's very plausible.  If not, are you sure you want to borrow the name of a real organization like this?  Just something to think about.

Even Cold Ones bleed, Mathieu.”

  Cool.  What are Cold Ones? Have they been introduced already?

“We are…an equal opportunity employer,” the man said dryly. 

  This is a great dry joke for anyone who has lived in America since 1964.  For anyone else, I would change this.  Maybe:  "We are not what you would call... discriminating."  Or: "We are not so.... noble as that."

He would take even a half chance over no chance any day.  “Non.”  He shook his head emphatically.  “Non, I am sorry but I cannot.”

  Okay, he has seen the face of the secret master of the secret guild of murdering poison assassins.  How on earth can he think that refusing this man is half a chance?  How can he think that this refusal will earn him anything other than death?  This guy is supposed to be a realist...?

Okay, I have to stop here because I have class, but I'll finish reading and reviewing later.  So far, I like it a lot!  Very fun!

Thanks, everyone.  I've modified the schedule so it reflects all the information you've shared. 

Boy, he's got a lot of books to write!

As she had feared, the animals who were behind her on the other street had turned to follow her.

  I would be a little careful of using metaphors like this so early.  This is fantasy.  It could be real animals following her.  My first thought was of a gang of camels, for some reason.

That small pack of streets was a maze of tiny streets, most of them going nowhere.

Redundant streets.  Also, I am not sure I am getting a picture of what this is.  Is it a real maze?  Why do the streets go nowhere? 

...she could probably escape them and deliver the compendium for the women waiting for it on the other side of the river.

  Okay, I am assuming that this is the thing she is carrying in her burlap sack.  Why not tell us what it is in the first paragraph?  Hiding it from the reader can make us want to know what it is, which is why lots of TV shows and movies would rely on this trick in this circumstance.  But we're not using a camera here.  We're inside her head, and she knows what's in her own sack.  In that sense it's a viewpoint violation to just say "the Heart's treasure" in the first paragraph because she knows exactly what that treasure is and she would be thinking about it.   And fortunately, having her think about what the treasure is and what it is worth, or what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands, is much more interesting than just letting us wonder what the macguffin is. 

She had often come here before she joined the Hearth, so she was confident that she could loose those men in those streets.

  So is there a Hearth and a Heart?  Or are they separate?  Does the Heart's treasure belong to the Hearth?  Also, lose-- not loose.  Also, why is there a maze in this town?  I thought at first that it was just a neighborhood with super confusing streets (I've spent a decade in Boston), but she keeps thinking of it as a real maze. 

When she got out of the maze, they were almost on top of her.

  So she didn't lose them in the maze?  Spend a little more time here and show her looking back, knowing that she has failed, knowing that they will soon have the compendium.  Ratchet up the tension.

If she wasn't careful, she would trip and fall and then, they would catch her.

  Um, why haven't they caught her already?  They were almost on top of her when she left the maze, and she's an old lady.   In this paragraph, she sounds less concerned about them than in the previous paragraphs.

How did those animals dare chasing a women on the streets?

  If this is such an unthinkable act for them, something that carries a life sentence, shouldn't someone be stopping them?  Okay, she says she has not seen an arbiter.  But it doesn't sound from your story as if the streets are empty of other people.  (The men later shout for people to stop her, for example.)  Why doesn't she stop and ask someone for help?  Why doesn't she turn around and confront these men? 

As she raised her head to look farther into the street, some measure of hope appeared in the form of the indistinct bell shape of one of the lower district libraries which stood a few hundred lengths before her, next to the river and its churning fall waters. No man could follow her there!

  She knows this town well.  This library should not be a surprise.  She should be thinking as she exits the maze that she has to run for the library, where she will be safe.

"Where is she?" she heard a voice outside say. A man voice, soft, yet commanding.

  First, how is she hearing them?  Is the library door not shut?  Second, they chased her in-- so wouldn't all of them know where she is?  So this must be a new guy.  So have her realize that this is a new guy.

Fear started again to grip Destra's chest after hearing that conversation; not only didn't they intend to abandon their chase, but they wanted to come get her inside.

  Again, why is no one helping her?  Are there no staff in the library?  Is no one going to notice a bunch of men with ladders assaulting a library they are forbidden to enter?  If this were happening in my town, I would expect someone would confront these dudes.  Why is no one doing that here?  I am guessing from the fact that the gas lights are on that it is sometime after sunset, but people are going to hear this commotion.  Especially since their leader is shouting about how he's going to set the library on fire.  (PS- What time is it?)

Destra surveyed the room once more : maybe she had missed some secret entrance. All the river's noise outside was beginning to set her on edge – who had built a library on top of the water anyway?

  You're telling me that there is a secret exit that will let her escape to the underground river.  She should be a little smarter and figure this out herself.  Then have her search for the secret exit and not find it.  Or maybe she finds it but it's covered by a locked grate.  And all the while the dude is shouting threats outside, and lighting torches, etc. This is much more exciting than just having her not think of anything. 

A Mother should look like she is in charge at all times, especially when men are around. Some stories said men could smell fear in a woman, so let them know she wasn't afraid of them.

  They've watched her run like a frightened rabbit, so they know she is afraid.  If she is not stupid, she knows this.  And I don't think you want her to be stupid.

Destra's time was near; she would only get one chance to get away, she couldn't loose it by miscalculating.

Again you are trying to introduce artificial tension by withhold information.  In this case, you're not telling us what her plan is.  It's much more effective for us to be inside her head, thinking of how the plan could go wrong.  Also, lose not loose.

Mother Destra felt comforted in the knowledge that she had thwarted their plans.

  So the book, I presume, is destroyed?  She should be thinking of that, if so.  But, honestly, why not leave the book in the library where it will be safe?  They can't get it there.  They could have burned it, if they had been able to burn the library down, but she destroyed it when she committed suicide.  Why wouldn't she just leave it?  What would happen if another woman, a librarian, discovered it there?  Would it also have disastrous consequences?  If so, she should think about them.

Overall, I think this is a good first stab at this.  In your next revision, do two things.  First, make Mother Destra smarter.  That will make her much more sympathetic.  Second, you need to populate this town.  The only people in this are the protagonist and the antagonists.  Put in some extras.  Fill in the detail.  Make this place seem real, instead of like an empty set with blank cardboard walls.  The more real it seems, the more we can identify with your protagonist and her plight.

Hi, I am just starting with Reading Excuses and I did not get your submission for this week.  If you send it to me, I would be happy to offer some feedback.

Thanks!

This is a short story that I think I would like to publish, but I haven't ever published in speculative fiction.  So I am hoping you all can give me some feedback on (1) how close you think this is to being ready to submit, (2) what I need to do to get it completely ready, and (3) where would be good places to submit it.

Thanks very much!