Timewaster's Guide Archive

A small sidenote...I've enclosed the prologue and first two chapters for any that might not have read them yet.  I've made some minor content changes, taken out some things and left others.  The wordcount is 5700.  If you want to comment, you can under the original posts.  The third chapter is new to the group, although I tried to include some of the info the original flashback chapter had.  Finally, I've changed the title from To Fulfill a Promise to Written in Blood.

 

 

 

Previous Summaries:

Prologue:  In Media Res
  The prologue introduces us to Mathieu Bragadin, the protagonist.  As the title suggests, the reader is thrown into the midst of the conflict.



CH1:  What Does a Man Do?
  Mathieu is finally returning home with the army.  His entire life has been spent serving in the armies of the Doge.  The Doge's daughter (Doga) has recently made peace and is calling the army home to be mustered out.  As his comrades celebrate, Mathieu finds himself questioning his future in this new era of peace.


CH2:  Two Mistresses. 

Mathieu reacquaints himself with Servenza.  He seeks out his best friend, a prostitute named Cassandra. 



CH3:  The Flower of Battle

 Despite misgivings, Mathieu begins his new life as a civilian, training young nobles in the art of dueling.

With the comics I meant that you went into a lot of detail about the different names/types and everything.  Which is good if your audience is interested in comics, but if they're not then it's a little much in a short story.  Also the passive voice was sentence structure.

Since it's the end of the year, I wanted to start a thread concerning what we've learned in 2010.  This could be anything from writing mechanics, to ideas, to querying, etc.  Pretty much anything writing related.  There's a lot of good information out there on agents blogs and the like, but sometimes it's nice to hear from those of us in the trenches.  Here's my list.

1.  Passive voice is insidious.  It might take several read throughs before it is completely eliminated.

2.  Attending conventions is a must.  From what I've experienced speaking face to face with an agent changes the rules.  Instead of just being one more query on the towering slush pile, suddenly you are an in individual.  I've only attended one convention, but from what I saw you might be competing with only a dozen or so other aspiring authors.  Much better than 200 other queries in one week.

3.  Research agents.  I've been guilty of querying any agent that says they will accept fantasy.  Fantasy/sci-fi have grown so diverse now that there are many subgenres.  I used to subscribe to the shotgun effect, picking 5 or 6 dream agents, 5 or 6 agents I've heard of, and 5 or 6 I don't know well and querying two from each list at a time.  More and more I'm convinced this is a mistake.  In the future I'm going to tailor my queries to agents who represent authors who I think are in the same vein as my writing.

4.  Shorter sentences, and in general, shorter chapters equals better writing.

5.  Rough outlining of character arcs and plot arcs works the best for me.  I still like to discovery write, but within the confines of an outline.

6.  Read more!  I've been a voracious reader since I was 4, alternating between Reader's Digest and the Bible (I know right?).  The past year I've still read a lot, but there have been weeks where I haven't cracked the cover of a book.  Now that I'm back into constantly reading, I'm realizing what a mistake that was.  Stephen King is right, the two rules for good writing are:  read constantly and write constantly.

7.  Do not query unless you're 100% sure that your manuscript is ready to go.  If an agent responds back immediately asking for more and you're not convinced its ready, it's going to put a lot of stress on you. 

8.  Set a schedule and stick to it.  I know some people that only write on the weekends for several hours at a time.  I can't do that.  I have to write something every day.  When I first started out I would shoot for a word count like 2k words.  Now I write the entire scene for the day.  It could be 1500 words or it could be 4500 words.  I don't stop until it's done. 

9.  If you have the means, pick up an mp3 player and listen to writing excuses, audiobooks, etc. in the car on the way to work.  Immersing yourself in writing during any spare time you have sets you up for success.

10.  Everyone's different, find what works for you and run with it. 

11.Don't be afraid to experiment with your work.  It's not finished until it's in print.


What have you learned in the past year?

Hey all,
  I have been quiet the past two weeks.  Between work, the holidays, and the fiance having a terrible cold, I've been pretty busy.  But I think my schedule is settling back down, so I thought I'd get back to posting.  I have an update from the agents that requested partials and fulls from me and I'm interested in what you all think.

  I'll start with the good news.  The agent that requested the full from me gave me quite a bit of feedback.  She went out of her way to say that she liked my writing style and thought the manuscript well written.  Unfortunately, it went down hill from there.  I only posted the first few chapters here, but one of them was a flashback chapter.  I know some (Asmodean in particular) do not like flashbacks.  Apparently, agents don't either.  She said that she liked the concept behind my story, but felt that the flashbacks pulled her away just when she was getting into the book and that it ended up feeling more like a character study rather than a novel.  She had told me up front that as she has 40+ authors already she would have to love the book to represent it.

  The other agent that requested the partial got back to me with somewhat of a form letter.  There was a little personal note that said he thought it was going to be more literary than the type of fantasy it actually was and it wasn't something he represented. 

  I was pretty bummed about all of this at first, but on the bright side the first agent obviously thought my writing was on par, even if she didn't like my concept.  The first agent had also requested a query before asking for the full.  The agent that said it wasn't his style only heard my pitch at World Fantasy and hadn't seen my query.  So I guess it was a case of me not researching enough to find the right agent and the agent getting the wrong impression from my pitch.  Or it was just terrible, haha.  The bottom line is agents wanted to see my work and that feels pretty good.  One step up the rung.

Anyway, after a lot of thought, I've decided to revise my work again.  I didn't think that flashback chapters were all that unusual (Scott Lynch uses a similar approach, and Pat Rothfuss's approach, while radically different, is almost entirely flashbacks).  The agents seemed to think otherwise.  I'm not so stuck on myself as the artist to not heed their advice.  Out of the 40 some chapters in my novel, about a dozen or so are flashbacks.  I'm going to attempt to pull out the main message I wanted to convey with each flashback and put that in either through dialogue or in very brief bits scatterred throughout the story (like the main character dreaming as he has nightmares and/or thoughts that occurr to him in situations).  I am guessing this will drop the wordcount from 145k to about 130k, tighten up the prose, keep the pace moving, and most importantly, not pull the reader out of the book.

Thoughts, criticism, and advice from those who might have experienced/be experiencing similar situations is very much appreciated.  :-)

Prompt:  Writing Dialogue

Summary:  Evie and Rodger sneak into a newly opened pyramid.  Their steamtorch goes out.  (2000 words)

Title:  The Hysteria of Evie Carlson



“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It was your idea, Rodger.”

“I know.  But that was in the light of the day.”

“It’s still daylight out.”

“Don’t be stupid, Evie.  “It’s pitch black in here.”

“Fine.  Light the steamtorch.  Better?”

“Sort of.  Does this feel full to you?”

“Hmm, the coals are still hot.  I think the water level is low.  We’ll have to be quick.”

“How far do you reckon it is to the burial chamber, Evie?”

“I don’t know.  Father wasn’t specific.  They only just broke through.  He’s quieter these days.”

“Doesn’t it worry you?”

“What Rodger?”

“Well, it’s just that.  They say you’re just like your mother.  Aren’t you worried that you’ll?  You know…”

“Go crazy?”

“Don’t laugh, Evie.  I’m serious.  I’d be scared to death if I were you.  Thank God only women can have hysteria.”

“Mother told me I would have years before I’d have to worry.  Besides, laudanum helps.  She never believed in it, but Father says it keeps the madness at bay.”

“Can’t you stop it?”

“Not now.  It’s too late.  I extracted my first aether the day she died.  Once the aether enters, the hysteria begins.”

“You extracted her didn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you want to speak with your mother?”

“I.  I reckon.”

“Hold the steamtorch up higher, Rodger.  It’s getting steeper.  We must be close.”

“Why’s it so cold?  I thought it’d be warmer.  I think it’s sapping the coals.”

“I’m not sure.  Look at my arms.  Gooseflesh.  Strange, this far beneath ground the temperatures should be relatively stable.”

“If you say so.  Look, Evie, maybe we should turn around.  This torch won’t last much longer.”

“Don’t be a baby.  We’re the only living things down here.  Besides, I’ve been in a dozen tombs.”

“Yeah, but never alone.  This is different.  Seven souls!  What’s that?”

“I don’t know.  Quit shaking, I can’t see.”

“Oh my God, is that?”

“A skeleton?  Yes.  Male, you can tell by the pelvis.  Probably just past puberty.  The pharaohs often had their bodyguards killed in the passages leading to their burial chambers.  To protect them in the afterlife.”

“Why’s his skull cracked?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he didn’t want to guard his pharaoh.  Hmm, that’s strange.”

“What, Evie?”

“Well, it’s just that if he was put here to guard his pharaoh, then shouldn’t he be facing up the tunnel?  It almost looks as if he was running downhill.”

“Running?  From what?”

“Want me to ask him?”

“You mean use your hysteria?  I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh give over, Rodger.  I’m not sixteen yet.  Mother almost made it to forty.  If anything these are the years I should be enjoying my…gift.”

“Just the same, I think I’ll pass.  C’mon, the steamtorch is sputtering.  It’ll be rotten luck if we make it to the burial chamber only to have the light go out.”

“It’s good to know there’s something that scares you more than this tomb.  Honestly, how can we be friends if you think I’m crazy?”

“I like you, Evie.  I just don’t trust your hysteria.  It’s not natural.”

“It’s as natural as breathing.  Don’t be sexist.  Alright, alright.  No need to glare.  We’ll go.”

“Thanks.  And I’m not being sexist.  It’s not like this is a safe place.  My uncle said that there are still armed traps they haven’t found.  One of the workers hit one yesterday.”

“Yeah, but it only nicked him.  The poison’s what killed him.  Father said it was something exotic he’s never seen before.”

“Well that’s comforting.  Now all we need is for the torch to go out and this nightmare will be complete.  Dammit!”

“Brilliant, Rodger.  Name the Devil and he appears.  C’mon the water can’t all be used up.  Shake it harder.”

“I am shaking it.  It’s not the water, it’s the blasted coals.  I told you this air was sapping them.  Now what are we going to do?”

“We’ll have to turn around.”

“Thank God.  That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said.”

“Ouch!  What’s that?”

“I don’t—Ouch!  It’s a blasted wall.  How did a wall get here?”

“Stop shouting.  We must have gotten turned around when the torch went out.  These tombs are rotten with side passages.”

“Brilliant, we’re lost and no one knows we came down here.  “Got any other news you’d like to share?”

“Don’t be a brick, Rodger.  We’re not lost.  We’re…temporarily misplaced.”

“Yeah, where I’m from that’s called lost.  I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming down here.  Skeletons and traps.  Not to mention the dead pharaoh.”

“Well at least we don’t have to worry about the last.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Hmm?  Oh, Father said the sarcophagus was empty.  Another oddity to this place.”

“Empty?  My God.  You don’t think?  He’s not?”

“A Mummy?  Honestly, Rodger.  For a boarding school educated boy you can be really thick sometimes.  The mummies are a superstition meant to keep grave robbers at bay.  Next you’ll be telling me you believe in the Ageless One.”

“Don’t laugh, Evie.  It’s not funny.  You didn’t see that worker yesterday.  His face was black.  And twisted.  Like even in death he couldn’t stop screaming.  This was a stupid idea before.  Without the torch it’s completely ludicrous.”

“Rodger.  C’mon, I didn’t mean to tease.  Don’t pout.  We’ll get out of here.  I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.  C’mon get up.  There you go.  We’re bound to find another skeleton.  When we do I’ll use my hysteria to extract its aether.  Stop moaning!  It’s the only way.  The aether will tell us the way out.  Watch your step, we’ll have to take this slowly.”

“I can walk on my own, thank you.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.  You’re wrong about the Ageless one, you know.  My uncle reckons that Cain is real.  He’s dead of course, no one lives forever.  But the story had to come from somewhere.”

“You’re probably right.  Mother told me once that she found a copy of the mark God put on his forehead in a tomb in Nepal.”

“No.  You’re blowing in my ear.”

“No, she wouldn’t lie.  Unfortunately she also triggered a trap that brought the place down around their ears.  Father said if they had been a few feet further from the entrance they never would have made it out.”

“Golly, I don’t think I’m cut out for this archaeology lark.  Mother was right.  I should’ve chosen to stay in London and work on photography.  Spirits can’t leave a picture frame.”

“I didn’t know you were a Spiritualist.”

“I’m not.  But there’s money to be made in spirit photography.”

“Will you take my picture?”

“Sure, if we get out of this hole alive.  Say, did the floor just level off?”

“I think it must have.  This darkness has me disoriented.  Hold on, let’s catch our breath.”

“Do you hear that?  It sounds like breathing.”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Rodger.  That’s just a breeze.  Probably from the outside.  Must be what’s keeping it so cool down here.  Musty, too.”

“I still say it sounds like breathing.  Chuckle all you want to, you’re the one who said it was strange.”

“It is strange.  But then again, that’s what makes this tomb so interesting.  Skeletons facing the wrong direction, live traps, empty sarcophagus, the Glyph.”

“Glyph?  What Glyph?”

“Drat, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Well you did.  So tell me.  What Glyph?”
   
“It’s probably nothing.  I found a Glyph on the entrance stone.  Father thinks part of it was weathered away.”

“But you don’t?”

“I’m not sure.  If it wasn’t weathered away then this could be one of the most spectacular finds of the century.”

“Go on with you.”

“Seriously.  The Glyph is another name for Cain.”

“The Ageless One?”

“Oh, don’t fall apart on me again.  Yes, you ninny, the Ageless One.  Father doesn’t believe it.  He’s sure that it’s weathered.”

“But he’s been wrong before.  Just look at what happened with your mother.”

“Shut up!  That wasn’t Father’s fault.  You weren’t there.”

“Neither were you.”

“Rodger.  One more word about the accident and I’ll find my own way out.  You can rot for all I care.”

“Easy, Evie.  I didn’t mean anything.  I.  I’m sorry.”

“Well you still have both your parents, so you can be cheeky.  It’s not so fun when it happens to you.”

“But you extracted her aether.  She’s with you now.”

“If only it worked like that.  Don’t be a fool, Rodger.  She’s gone.”

“I didn’t know.  Look at the bright si—.  Hey!  I just stepped on something.”

“It’s a skeleton.”

“Huzzah!  We’re saved.”

“Maybe not.  This pelvis feels wrong.”

“Wrong?  How can a pelvis feel wrong?”

“It feels wide.  It might be female.”

“Male, female, who cares?  It’s got aether.”

“Rodger, laudanum was discovered less than a century ago.  Any female this old would’ve died insane.  My mother was bad enough.  A five thousand year old, crazy aether infused spirit raging with hysteria?  I’ll pass thank you.”

“Evie.”

“Shh.  Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like whispering.”

“You’re the one who said it was natural.”

“Yeah, before it was.  This was different.”

“We’re the only living things down here.  You said.”

“Rodger, I can’t see an inch in front of my face.  How do I know what’s out there?  You’d take the word of a hysteric girl?”

“Dammit.  Stop poking fun, Evie.”

“I’m not.  I’m just frustrated.  I know I heard something.”

“You’re scaring me, Evie.”

“Maybe we should be.  Alright, I’ll risk it.  We have to get out of here.  Something’s gone queer in this place.  Hand me the skull.”

“The skull?”

“It should be at your feet.”

“Oh.  It’s smooth.  Should it be that smooth?”

“Just give it to me.  Thanks.  Now, all I need is a tooth.  There we go.”

“I can’t believe it pulled out that easily.”

“If your teeth were five millennia old, they’d probably pull out too.  You ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.  Hysteria.  Ah, go on.  We need to get out of here.”

“Alright, here it goes.”

“Did you just put that it in your mouth?  Eww.”

“Rodger.  Shut up.  Gah!”

“Evie?  Evie?  I can’t understand you.  Stop shaking.  Evie!”

“It hurts, it hurts so bad.”

“What does?  Are you alright?”

“He didn’t want to die, Rodger.  Peustuth was born to serve his Pharaoh.  He did serve.  He didn’t deserve this.  They cut him.  It hurts, it hurts so bad.  For nothing.  The king wasn’t dead.  Why kill Peustuth?  Why?  The sacrifice shouldn’t have been performed!  Peustuth served!”

“Evie, lower your voice!  Something’s out there.  Shh, can’t you hear it?”

“Peustuth knew the way out.  It was his duty to know every entrance and exit.  The Death Guard.  But the king never came.”

“You know the way out?  Brilliant, let’s go.  Evie?  C’mon, let’s go.”

“Then he came.  The mark was so bright.  So bright.  And then the killing began.  They cut Peustuth.  It hurts, it hurts so bad.”

“What?  What are you talking about?  C’mon Evie, I’m telling you something’s out there.  I don’t care if you think I’m a coward, but we need to get out of here.”

“He’s coming.  And the Lord said to him, ‘Very well, if anyone kills Cain, he will suffer vengeance seven times over.’  Then the Lord put a mark upon Cain.”

“Evie, you’re scaring me.  It’s not funny anymore.  Use the aether and get us out of here.”

“I’m sorry, Rodger.  It hurts, it hurts so bad.”

“I know it hurts, but the whispers are growing louder.  I think there’s more than one.  We need to go, Evie.  Take my hand.”

“He’s coming.”

“That’s what I’m saying.  Now take my hand and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“It’s too late, Rodger.”

“What’s that?  Who’s there?  Oh God, someone’s in here, Evie.  Someone’s in here.”

“Tell them Peustuth was faithful.”

“Who are you?”

“He served his king.”

“Answer me, damn you.”

“Until the Ageless One came.”

“Evie?  Evie?  Ouch!  Let go!”

“They cut him.”

“Evie, it’s got me!”

“It hurts, it hurts so bad.”

“Why are you doing this?  Please, stop!  Oh God, no.  No!”

“He’s here.  The mark is so bright.”

Since we're back on the forums I'll continue to submit my novel.  So I'd like to submit CH4 for monday.

He gave her a wry look. “You don't really think that.”
She gave a short laugh.

You can get away with he gave her a wry look, but the gave a short laugh is passive.  Instead try She chuckled or she laughed.

The prose is sharp, short, but you're tending to repeat words a sentence down.  Ex. either, again.  This is something that on a second read through you can switch  out one of the words for something different...just pointing it out. 

The Fang of Long Nights, appearing even larger than he had in Overlook, was right there, appearing to be smiling, if that was possible on a snout.

The sentence is too long, and incredibly awkward.  Also, I think it needs to be its own paragraph.  I read down a little bit before I realized that this thing was actually there and attacking her. 

I'm confused, are there two beasts?  You switch between Fang of Long Nights and Fang of Winter.


Criticism aside, I liked the chapter.  It was nice to see Rosalin step up and the dynamic between her and Amaryllis is definitely propelling this forward.  Personally, I think that you should combine the last chapter with this one.  Lose the whole fishing scene completely and just add teh conversation with Amaryllis and Rosalyn as they are traveling over the pass and then shift to the beginning of this chapter.  I think that would tighten it up and move the pace foward much better.  Just my opinion.  I'm interested to see Rosalyn's further evolution.

Previous Summaries:

Prologue:  In Media Res
  The prologue introduces us to Mathieu Bragadin, the protagonist.  As the title suggests, the reader is thrown into the midst of the conflict.



CH1:  What Does a Man Do?
  Mathieu is finally returning home with the army.  His entire life has been spent serving in the armies of the Doge.  The Doge's daughter (Doga) has recently made peace and is calling the army home to be mustered out.  As his comrades celebrate, Mathieu finds himself questioning his future in this new era of peace.


CH2:  Two Mistresses. 

Mathieu reacquaints himself with Servenza.  He seeks out his best friend, a prostitute named Cassandra. 


Current Summary:

CH3:  In Memory of Adolescence (Aged 2 Years)

Mathieu's early life as a child living in a brothel.  He begins to discover what makes him so different from all the other children.  His mother adopts a girl named Elle whose own mother was beaten to death by one of the clients.  Mathieu's brief childhood comes to an end when disaster befalls his mother and Elle.