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Posted By: Fritzsco Jul 25, 2004 - 08:45 am

i thought i mite bring newer posts into a different topic. this is the same story as "ready? be harsh if necessary"... or something of the likes.

I’ve been finding it hard to write lately. it seems that my ability to write dialogue is leagues behind my ability to write... um... un-dialogue. And, you know how it is. Any excuse one can find not to write, they usually take. (no one likes writing so much as having written.. robin hobb said something like that.)

anyway. i fear that this excerpt from the 3rd-ish chapter is reflecting this problem i have, and also i think the story, itself, has progressed beyond that of any reasonable attempt at a "children’s/young adults" fantasy.

I’ve come to the crossroads where i have the choice of either making major plot/theme/character renovations in order to raise the target audience, or to bang my head against the wall to loose some brain cells (and hopefully some of my bigger words)

in any case im not sure im cut out for the discipline required to write a children’s book, for in order to write a children’s book one needs to command a large amount of control over their own abilities (even to the extent of writing well within and under their full potential. something that im not sure i can do), and certainly they have a moral obligation that im not altogether sure im ready to be responsible for...

... as u can see i have a lot of thoughts ahahah, im not even sure that they apply to this excerpt... but here goes anyway.

Posted By: Fritzsco Jul 25, 2004 - 08:45 am

chapter three: The pigmies


Despite their stature and childlike features, the pigmies of the accursed forest were not children. Sporting baby smooth skin and a child like grin, it was natural for one to take them as little more at first glance; but the pigmies were not a people to be overlooked. Reputedly stubborn types and naturally toughened from the dangers of living on the accursed shores, the pigmies, or children of the forest, were a feisty group, and combined with their height complex, they were never to be taken lightly.

The pigmies were cannibals. Not the red eyed ones that frothed at the mouth and ate all living people, mind you. They were the ones that made clear and calculated decisions about who they would eat, and why. They were actually quite perplexed at the common reaction to the practice, and were in fact avid that one might try and see for themselves the benefits of eating ones enemies—and missionaries—to acquire their strength and wisdom. Though, try as they might, their insistence was almost always followed by a scrambling of feet and a hurling noise from behind the nearest tree. But, stubborn as they were, they were forever vigilant in their endeavour, and took such throw backs as lightly and impersonally as they could.

Although well spoken, as they had devoured many brains, sheltered the pigmies were, and very unaccustomed to seeing foreigners in their village. Stranger to them still was a foreigner not bound by ropes, nor screaming for mercy. So it was expected that, as Tyke walked into the village, a few heads were bound to be turned.

Jumping from out of a bush, surprising Tyke maybe just a little, a pigmy made to block his path, snarling at him and waving a pike. Before Tyke could react, his friend and companion, Iva, motioned for the pigmy to lower his weapon, and began to tell of the courage Tyke had shown to save her baby against the dreadful foe. Pigmies with cheerful faces started to gather around from all sides and Tyke soon found himself surrounded by pleasant faces looking up to him, smiling. After the story was told they all scattered, and soon it all the village knew of this strangers courageous feat (which, of course, had been blown out of all proportions). And travelling to what Tyke suspected was the village centre he saw they now had a sizeable entourage, guiding him along the pathways of their humble settlement.

The village was a largely primitive one Tyke noticed as they passed numerous tepees, stick fires, and totem poles with scary, gnarled looking faces carved and painted on the sides. The crowd parted hastily and gave way to a pigmy as he ran out towards them. A look of joy spread out across Iva’s face as the three pigmy’s embraced, the other pigmy letting out small rebukes in-between his expressions of pleasure at their safety.

Tears seemed to be escaping the pigmy’s tight eyed clasp. ‘Never, ever leave my sight again!’ he urged gently into Iva’s ear in the midst of their tight embrace. He then took up the child, his child, and kissed him softly. ‘And you…,’ he said playfully.

The pigmy then turned to look up at Tyke and, with a smile on his strangely painted face, clasped Tyke’s hands in his. ‘I thank you, kind stranger.’

‘That’s ok, I guess,’ Tyke laughed. ‘I was happy to do it.’

His face then took on a darker quality. ‘Mysterious foes have been gathering on these shores recently. Though never this far has their taint spread into the forest. Iva left our village in hopes of finding a special flower used in many of our medicines, though I never expected she'd be venturing into danger...’Iva nodded, and extended a beautiful deep purple flower in the palm of her hand. The pigmy took it carefully and gave it to another who came quickly up to his side, spiriting it away into the crowd in a purposeful hurry. ‘My father, the chief, is ill… this flower helps him.’ He, and many others in the crowd, inclined their heads slightly.

‘But we must not tarry on such matters of lament.’ The pigmy, which Tyke new now to be something of royalty among the tribe, raised his hands and addressed the crowd. ‘This kind stranger has saved a future heir to the chieftaincy. For this, we will rejoice tonight and hold a feast in his honour!’

There was a united cry out of excitement and the crowd scattered, automatically knowing what tasks befell them, and hastily went about business of preparing the feast.

Then the pigmy looked up at Tyke and extended his hand. ‘My name is Irik. I understand they call you Tyke. I thank you once again for all your help, and I hope you accept our invitation. You must stay with us and feel welcome among us.’

Tyke nodded vigorously. ‘I do, I do. But I wonder…’

‘Anything you need, you have but to ask,’ assured Irik.

‘I have a friend and we got separated a little while ago. And I really have to find him, its really important.’

‘I’m afraid no other foreigners have come past here.’ Irik said, shaking his head. ‘But I shall tell our scouts to look out for foreigners and to bring them here. But first, you must come see my father. That flower Iva has brought him will have made him well enough to have company. Come.’

Posted By: Fritzsco Jul 25, 2004 - 08:47 am

oh... look out for some humour i chucked in.. i've been reading terry pratchett

Posted By: Fritzsco Jul 28, 2004 - 06:57 am

pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaze

Posted By: Chaeronia Jul 28, 2004 - 07:11 am

Fritzsco,

Definitely intending on writing a critique here but just so busy at the moment (12 hour days not agreeing with me, and all spent on the computer so like to be shot of it after 8 pm!). Don't even have time for any writing myself at the moment. I'll get round to it soon, I promise.

Chaeronia

Posted By: chowder Jul 28, 2004 - 08:40 am

Fritzsco

I see what you mean. The little dialogue you have is good, yet there is far too much narrative.

The first 3 paragraphs have a lot of description. Can you try and slide the info in throughout the rest of the chapter? Have you already told the reader these folks are cannibals? If not, I'd save that info for later. It would be a great surprise to be reading along, thinking the pygmies are so nice then, whammo, we find out they're cannibals.

You are doing more telling than showing. Let's see if there's a couple of spots we can make changes. How about changing the following bit:

'Jumping from out of a bush, surprising Tyke maybe just a little, a pigmy made to block his path, snarling at him and waving a pike. Before Tyke could react, his friend and companion, Iva, motioned for the pigmy to lower his weapon, and began to tell of the courage Tyke had shown to save her baby against the dreadful foe.'

to:

A shadow flashed from the bushes and Tyke staggered back, his heart thumping against his ribs.

"Stop there." A well-muscled pygmy snarled and waved a pike in Tyke's face.

Iva rushed forward and pushed the weapon aside. "Stand down, (insert pygmy name here), this is my friend and a hero to our people."


Certainly not perfect, but hopefully it gives you the general idea. This is just my opinion.

A couple of other notes:

You've used 'accursed' twice in the first paragraph.


In this bit, you should say it's the pygmy's face: His face then took on a darker quality.


This bit of dialogue. I know it's how we do speak, but it's not how our characters should speak:
‘I have a friend and we got separated a little while ago. And I really have to find him, its really important.’
Get rid of the 'really's and the 'little while ago'. Be specific. Show Tyke's anxiety. For example:
"My friend and I--," Tyke swallowed, "he's lost. I've got to find him."


Delete this bit: 'which Tyke new now to be something of royalty among the tribe,' (you go on to give the same info in the pygmy's dialogue)


Now as far as writing for YA or kids. You've used many $10 words, but I don't think they're beyond the average teenager (at least I hope they're not). It can be a challenge to gear your book toward a specific age group, but it can be a lot of fun too. Good luck!

Posted By: Fritzsco Aug 01, 2004 - 12:02 am

thanks chaeronia, chowder. yeah, my main concern also, with the YA or kids thing, is that what the story is actualy about is more basic than the 12-18 kinda age group thingo. i have a good idea what is considered basic in this agegroup because i am still part of it myself, even if it's not evident in this excerpt(the basicness being evident... not my age ). but thankyou for all your suggestions. i wont change it here, but ill change it in my own copy
lookin foward to your crit, chaeronia

Posted By: Chaeronia Aug 04, 2004 - 01:58 am

Hey Fritszco,

Chowder has made a lot of useful comments that should be heeded. There is too much block-narrative in the first three paragraphs, telling and not showing. This kind of writing can be effective in small doses: revealing important matters in an almost casual, nonchalant manner can add a punchy style to the writing (it is a technique I also use) - and I think you achieve this in the passage describing the pygmies are cannibals - but letting narrative slide into ponderous exposition can be easily done. Just be wary of this.

The cannibal paragraph, though, I enjoyed, despite its slight tendency towards exposition.

“They were actually quite perplexed at the common reaction to the practice, and were in fact avid that one might try and see for themselves the benefits of eating ones enemies—and missionaries—to acquire their strength and wisdom.”

The missionaries comment made me chuckle to myself, so job done with the humour!

Overall I found it well written, and you seem to have married a mixture of styles and word-usage that makes it suitable for both children and adults. It’s not strictly to my taste, but I can look beyond my own preference and see there is merit here.

I think Chowder makes another worthy point in that sometimes your description could be a little more emphasised, and the passage Chowder picks out is a good example:

“Jumping from out of a bush, surprising Tyke maybe just a little, a pigmy made to block his path, snarling at him and waving a pike. Before Tyke could react, his friend and companion, Iva, motioned for the pigmy to lower his weapon, and began to tell of the courage Tyke had shown to save her baby against the dreadful foe.”

This is a tad pallid, and could be made more colourful and exciting with an injection of improved description and greater sense of emotion shown by the characters involved. Chowder’s revised version highlights this well.

I’m sounding like an echo here, but I agree with Chowder on two further, smaller issues:

First,

“His face then took on a darker quality.”

Replace ‘his face’ with the pygmy’s name, and perhaps add further description - squinted eyes, the vanishing of a smile - you get the idea. Again, it emphasises the point that instead of telling us his face took on a darker quality, you could explain the symptoms of this instead - the mantra: showing, not telling!

Second,

“‘I have a friend and we got separated a little while ago. And I really have to find him, its really important.’”

As already said, add an exact timeframe as to when they were separated, and make the dialogue a little more human. Perhaps consider Tyke trying to explain this earlier; I’m guessing it’s a matter of great importance so he would want to resolve it as soon as possible.

Generally speaking, it’s clear this is aimed towards the younger age group, but with enough to keep an adult interested. There are a number of this type of book out at the moment (Rowling, G P Taylor, Garth Nix, Eoin Colfer are all good examples) so there is certainly a market for it. But be careful about writing with a market in mind. I suggest you just find a style that makes writing enjoyable to you, something that makes you want to go back and write and write and write - not necessarily ignoring who your target audience is, but certainly not making that a prime motive for your writing manner.

Good luck with the rest of it, Fritszco - make sure you post more when you have the time.

Chaeronia

Posted By: kormic Aug 05, 2004 - 01:40 am

thanks chaeronia

i'll make the changes on my own copy. you were very right about one thing, i was writing with a specific target audience in mind, and it seems the more i write the more i get pushed into an even smaller writing space. not a very comfortable position at all...

p.s. i changed my name to kormic.

i'll post more when i find something, but i'm getting increasingly tired writing with handicaps. i've made the hard choice of trying to start something else that i can write without a target audience in mind. make sure you post somemore on your ragnarok story, i'd like to read some.

Posted By: Chaeronia Aug 05, 2004 - 03:56 am

Hey Artist formerly known as Fritszco

"...i'm getting increasingly tired writing with handicaps."

This is crucial. If you don't enjoy what you write, and feel you are constrained by trying to reach a specific market in a way that restricts your writing, then change tack. Like you say, it can be a hard choice, but it's certainly the right one.

My suggestion is to really go out on a limb with an experimental piece of writing. Try something completely different, toy around with a different style; you might stumble upon something that really excites you, gets the blood pumping and makes you forget about sleep as you write deep into the night with coffee and rock music for company. When that happens, you know you're on to a winner, and that will shine through in your writing.

All the best, Kormic, I'm sure you'll crack it.

Chaeronia

PS - I'm posting a slab of Ragnarok soon, after scrapping the beginnings of Chapter 1 I posted before (as Stephen King says, never be afraid to kill your darlings!)

Posted By: kormic Aug 05, 2004 - 05:08 am

it sure is a hard choice! though one i think i have to make.

well, kill your darlings quickly i await the next installment.

Posted By: kormic Nov 21, 2004 - 07:20 pm

I've been continuing on this story again, but writing it allover the place instead of chronologicaly.

but this is a bit that comes shortly after that which i've already posted, so it wont take too much explaining. crits for old and new are welcome. thanks

-----==========------

When Jesse came-to he was bound upside down. He was dis-orientated, his memory jumbled, and was feeling devilishly sick. Total pain and discomfort were all he felt. There was the dull, yet prominent ache coming from within his head. And two seperate sharper pains on the outside of his skull--not to mention the sheer humiliation of being strung up by the arms and legs.

There was the taste of Blood was on his lips; and hit with sudden questions about how the blood got there, and what exacitaly was going on, he strained to open his eyes and was pleased to atleast find he still had his glasses. There was talking amoungst his captors.

'Good thing there was this rope in his bag. A magic rope it must be, too, to keep a great outislander wizard in bounds! If it wern't for it, I doubt even the greatest of our warriors could have matched his strength in battle! Only one such as Master Shihan could suppress such a mighty foe. I will be honoured greatly by the tribe for my acomplishment.'

The talker was the shorter and fatter of the three pigmys Jesse saw walking along behind him. Careful not to alert them to his wakefulness, he grimaced inwardly at his uncomfortable view of the underside of their skirts.

'You fool,' one cried at him, hitting him with his free left arm. His right arm was busy holding the spear that Jess was suspended from on his shoulder. Jesse bobbed up and down with the movement. 'Why, when the wizard was un-captured, did he not destroy us all there and then? With these magics and hexs you are all to eager to rave on about.'

'Why, he was stunned by our might, of course' he retorted confidently; a look of disbelief on his face.

'You are a fool, Tublin!' said the other with a grin. 'Confounded by your own idiocy!'

'You'll see... He is a wizard,' he muttered darkly as the entire hunters party laughed.

Jesse was suddenly cold. His memory was still clouded but slowly floated back with the most vicious memories at the forefront. Ghastly skeletal bodies, suspended in destorted poses, rolling past with the waves on a shipwreck. Tyke, lost with a massive tentacle arm to the depths of some nightmarish ocean. A plank to the head; then yet another knock to the head from savages on an unfarmiliar island. It was all too unbelievable to be true.

But as he contrasted these memories with the present talks of magic and battle, he found only to be strengthening the visions. His mind lurched with his inability to grasp such concepts as real, causing his stomach to threaten throwing out its contents. He tried to calm himself. He couldn't let his captors know he was awake; to do this he was sure would be to surrender to death. He concentraited on breathing.

Conversation broke out into seperate streams and the more segregated it became, the less jesse found it to be useful. Talk ranged from whining about someone; small arguements about nothing; general gossip. One group exchanged stupid noises with eachother and mistook it as humour.

Jesse swum in and out of attention with his surroundings. His mind grew dull, and soon he was out again, bobbing up and down with the motion of the hunters who, single file, followed the path leading to their village.