The Blade--Fantasy Fiction - Writers Forum

Sir Twilight · 04-18-2008, 12:52 PM

Aiight . . . this is the first part to my novel. I suck at typing, so this is all I've got done right now.

Anyone in the castle that happened to pass by a certain shelf would fell a chill. It was almost as if someone had whispered to them, or the slight brush of fingertips along their arm. The person would get goose bumps, or perhaps the hair on the back of his or her neck would stand up. Nothing very consequential and the feeling would pass as quickly as it came, and even if the person waited or listened, nothing would happen to him or her again.
When it first started to happen, people passed it off as just each of their imaginations playing tricks on themselves. Then they started telling each other, and with that the rumors began. Some believed that an old sorcerer had locked his mind behind the shelf and was attempting to take over a host. Others swore that it was the count’s wife’s spirit (who died mysteriously, the ladies all whispered) trying to exact revenge on her husband.
Of all these rumors that were exchanged around the castle, there was one key element: that certain shelf in the library had to be haunted. And so all of the keep’s inhabitants stayed away, and the books became dusty for lack of cleaning and use, and anyone that had to pass through did so as quickly and noisily as possible. The place became a basis for threats of the servants’ parents to keep their children in check.
One of these children who were threatened was Trey Dennon. Trey was a slightly scrawny, 16-year old teenage boy who would probably glare at you if you mistook him for a little boy. He was a cleaning servant, and could be found most days scrubbing a little-used corridor or polishing the suits of armor in the halls. He wore his dark brown hair slightly longer than the typical serf, but could deter anyone who threatened to cut it with a single glare of his sharp green eyes. Eyes worthy of royalty, his friend Abigail would say to him.
At the moment, however, she was matching his piercing gaze with her own blue eyes. “You will not go near that shelf!” she stated as if it were fact, her hands on her hips, “I won’t let you.”
Trey gazed at her, his resolve not weakened the least by her words nor her actions. As a cleaning servant, he felt it was his responsibility to dust off the shelf. Also, a large part of him was that adolescent desire to defy the norms set by others, especially if they were his elders. It was a challenge he could not deny.
But he also knew that Abigail would indeed stop him from cleaning the haunted bookshelf, even if she had to knock him unconscious and drag him away to do so. He had to throw her off the trail. So, as though he actually doubted himself, he started to let his shoulders droop just a little.
Abigail seemed to take the bait, for she began to pound the stake into Trey’s resolve. “And besides, Trey . . . they’re just dusty books that no one cares about. People are so focused on the rumor that the shelf is haunted that they probably can’t even remember that the bookshelf is even there.”
Trey sighed, continuing his façade. “Yeah. You’re probably right. They’re just old books.” He couldn’t believe he was even saying that, though. Trey stole many late hours reading any material he could get his hands on (and as a cleaning boy, he had access to a lot of books that could become mysteriously misplaced), and was excited by the prospect of finding new books to read from that shelf. But not even Abigail knew of his passion for reading, and he had to maintain his act.
A few moments later, when his blonde-haired friend said, “Oh, come on . . . let’s get back for dinner,” Trey knew that his ploy had worked. He had to hide his smile as he followed Abigail down the staircase to the servants’ common room. He had Abigail off his trail, the first obstacle of his plan. He was ready to put the next step of his plan into action, and by the end of the night, he would have that bookshelf clean.

Just Jim · 04-18-2008, 02:36 PM

Sir T,

I see this is your first post. Welcome to the forum.
I'm assuming this will be in the category of teen or young adult.

Generally I like it. You get right to the mystery - the scary haunted shelf. Then you get a little conflict going with his friend. Good.

Quote:

The place became a basis for threats of the servants’ parents to keep their children in check.

This is very awkward.
The young servants' parents used this shelf as a threat to keep their children in check. --- or something like that.

If you break the dialog out and put it on it's own line, it will be easier to read and more interesting.

I'm sure someone else will do a detailed edit. I don't do that.

Ungood · 04-18-2008, 04:12 PM

Looks Good !

Welcome to the Forums!

Ungood.

Sir Twilight · 04-19-2008, 10:55 AM

Thank you both, Just Jim and Ungood. I appreciate the comments!

Yeah, I see what you say, Jim. I do tend to make my paragraphs longer than they should be... next post I'll break it up some. Thanks for the advice and the welcome.

And I'm glad you like it, Ungood. I heard you're a rather harsh critic. So, thanks!

Ungood · 04-19-2008, 11:55 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sir Twilight

And I'm glad you like it, Ungood. I heard you're a rather harsh critic. So, thanks!

I can be

. (Inset Evil Laugh)

.. but As it stands, nothing in your story hits me as "that just does not sound right" so it works, I like it... nothing looks like a "rip off" or "Oh good grief" to it... it feels unique and alive in that right.

I would say it's time for the Grammar Gurus to rip you apart and help you set up a flowing story now.

Ungood

Jade M · 04-19-2008, 12:29 PM

Hello, first of all, welcome to the forum.

Red shows mistakes or bits I suggest you remove
Green is corrections/suggested add ins
Blue is comments

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sir Twilight

Anyone in the castle that happened to pass by a certain shelf would fell (feel) a chill. It was almost as if someone had whispered to them, or the slight brush of fingertips along their arm (Nope - sentence isn't correct. The way it is as the moment suggests that the someone had whispered the slight brush of fingertips. Need to rephrase, or better still, divide into two sentences). The person would get goose bumps, or perhaps the hair on the back of his or her neck would stand up. (Nothing very consequential - Don't need to tell us this.) (and) The feeling would pass as quickly as it came, and even if the person waited or listened, nothing would happen to him or her (them) again.

When it first started to happen, people passed it off as just (each of) their imaginations playing tricks. (on themselves - who else would their imaginations be playing tricks on?). Then they started telling each other, and with that the rumors began. Some believed that an old sorcerer had locked his mind behind the shelf and was attempting to take over a host. Others swore that it was the count’s wife’s spirit (who died mysteriously), (the ladies all whispered) trying to exact revenge on her husband.

Of all the(se) rumors that were exchanged around the castle, there was one key element: that certain shelf in the library had to be haunted. And so all of the keep’s inhabitants stayed away. The books became dusty for lack of cleaning and use, and anyone that had to pass through did so as quickly and noisily (Why noisely? Wouldn't they try to keep quiet?) as possible. The place became a basis for threats of the servants’ parents to keep their children in check. (I agree with Just Jim, this sentence is too awkward)

One of these children who were (was) threatened was Trey Dennon (This sentence is passive when it would sound better active. Just say 'Trey Dennon had been threatened in this way' ). Trey was a slightly scrawny, 16-(sixteen) year old teenage boy who would (probably) glare at you if you mistook him for a little boy. He was a cleaning servant, and could be found most days scrubbing a little-used corridor or polishing the suits of armor in the halls. He wore his dark brown hair slightly longer than the typical serf, but could deter anyone who threatened to cut it with a single glare of his sharp green eyes. Eyes worthy of royalty, his friend Abigail would say to him.

At the moment, however, she was matching his piercing gaze with her own blue eyes. “You will not go near that shelf!” she stated as if it were fact, her hands on her hips, “I won’t let you.”

Trey gazed at her, his resolve not weakened (the least) by her words (nor her actions - what actions? She has only told him not to go). As a cleaning servant, he felt it was his responsibility to dust off the shelf. Also, a large part of him was that adolescent desire to defy the norms set by others, especially if they were his elders. It was a challenge he could not deny.

But he also knew that Abigail would indeed stop him from cleaning the haunted bookshelf, even if she had to knock him unconscious and drag him away to do so. He had to throw her off the trail. So, as though he actually doubted himself, he started to let his shoulders droop just a little.

Abigail seemed to take the bait, for she began to pound the stake into Trey’s resolve. “And besides, Trey . . . they’re just dusty books that no one cares about. People are so focused on the rumor that the shelf is haunted that they probably can’t even remember that the bookshelf is even there.”

Trey sighed, continuing his façade. “Yeah. You’re probably right. They’re just old books.” He couldn’t believe he was even saying that (what he was saying)(, though). Trey stole many late hours reading any material he could get his hands on (and as a cleaning boy, he had access to a lot of books that could become mysteriously misplaced). (and was excited by) The prospect of finding new books to read (excited him)(from that shelf - we know they're from 'that shelf' - no need to tell us). But not even Abigail knew of his passion for reading, and he had to maintain his act.
A few moments later, when his blonde-haired friend (too awkward - you forced that description in) said, “Oh, come on . . . let’s get back for dinner,” Trey knew that his ploy had worked. He had to hide his smile as he followed Abigail down the staircase to the servants’ common room. He had Abigail off his trail, the first obstacle (Why would getting her off the trail be an obstacle? You mean 'stage' or something?)of his plan. He was ready to put the next step of his plan into action, and by the end of the night, he would have that bookshelf clean.

Alright, I've gone through it. My editing can be pretty tricky to make sense of, just ask if you don't know what I'm talking about.

Stories not bad, although you could get into the action a little earlier and slowly build up our understanding of the shelf.

ShatteredGlass · 04-19-2008, 01:30 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sir Twilight

Aiight . . . this is the first part to my novel. I suck at typing, so this is all I've got done right now.

Anyone in the castle that happened to pass by a certain shelf would fell a chill. It was almost as if someone had whi9spered to them, or the slight brush of fingertips along their arm. The person would get goose bumps, or perhaps the hair on the back of his or her neck would stand up. Nothing very consequential and the feeling would pass as quickly as it came, and even if the person waited or listened, nothing would happen to him or her again.

(((I think you mean 'whispered' XD)))
(((Wording seems a bit funky here... The two sentences kinda clash)))

When it first started to happen, people passed it off as just each of their imaginations playing tricks on themselves. Then they started telling each other, and with that the rumors began. Some believed that an old sorcerer had locked his mind behind the shelf and was attempting to take over a host. Others swore that it was the count’s wife’s spirit (who died mysteriously, the ladies all whispered) trying to exact revenge on her husband.

(((Maybe rearranging this would make it easier to read. I stumbled over that part.)))

Of all these rumors that were exchanged around the castle, there was one key element: that certain shelf in the library had to be haunted. And so all of the keep’s inhabitants stayed away, and the books became dusty for lack of cleaning and use, and anyone that had to pass through did so as quickly and noisily as possible. The place became a basis for threats of the servants’ parents to keep their children in check.

(((Lots of 'and's here...)))

One of these children who were threatened was Trey Dennon. Trey was a slightly scrawny, 16-year old teenage boy who would probably glare at you if you mistook him for a little boy. He was a cleaning servant, and could be found most days scrubbing a little-used corridor or polishing the suits of armor in the halls. He wore his dark brown hair slightly longer than the typical serf, but could deter anyone who threatened to cut it with a single glare of his sharp green eyes. Eyes worthy of royalty, his friend Abigail would say to him.

(((Redundant. If he's 16 years old, we know he's a teenager)))
(((Can you come up with a new word in one of these two places? It seems repetitive to have 'glare' twice in the same paragraph)))

At the moment, however, she was matching his piercing gaze with her own blue eyes. “You will not go near that shelf!” she stated as if it were fact, her hands on her hips, “I won’t let you.”

(((You mean Abigail here? I'm not sure, it seems as if a person just poofed out of nowhere to me)))
(((Period here. The other sentence wasn't continued after the interruption of the speech tags.)))

Trey gazed at her, his resolve not weakened the least by her words nor her actions. As a cleaning servant, he felt it was his responsibility to dust off the shelf. Also, a large part of him was that adolescent desire to defy the norms set by others, especially if they were his elders. It was a challenge he could not deny.
But he also knew that Abigail would indeed stop him from cleaning the haunted bookshelf, even if she had to knock him unconscious and drag him away to do so. He had to throw her off the trail. So, as though he actually doubted himself, he started to let his shoulders droop just a little.
Abigail seemed to take the bait, for she began to pound the stake into Trey’s resolve. “And besides, Trey . . . they’re just dusty books that no one cares about. People are so focused on the rumor that the shelf is haunted that they probably can’t even remember that the bookshelf is even there.”
Trey sighed, continuing his façade. “Yeah. You’re probably right. They’re just old books.” He couldn’t believe he was even saying that, though. Trey stole many late hours reading any material he could get his hands on (and as a cleaning boy, he had access to a lot of books that could become mysteriously misplaced), and was excited by the prospect of finding new books to read from that shelf. But not even Abigail knew of his passion for reading, and he had to maintain his act.

(((I was always told you can't start a sentence with but... I don't know what the real rule is...)))

A few moments later, when his blonde-haired friend said, “Oh, come on . . . let’s get back for dinner,” Trey knew that his ploy had worked. He had to hide his smile as he followed Abigail down the staircase to the servants’ common room. He had Abigail off his trail, the first obstacle of his plan. He was ready to put the next step of his plan into action, and by the end of the night, he would have that bookshelf clean.

Jade M. Sort of beat me to this, but I posted my view anyways. So far it's good. If you add spaces between every paragraph it makes it easier to read. Good luck!

Shattered <3

Sir Twilight · 04-28-2008, 12:57 PM

Thanks to all of you that have edited my work... and to the 86 or so views I've had. It makes me happy to know that others like it! I'm hard at work at the next part, and I hope I get the same enthusiasm.

As for the critiques, I'm using that advice to work on my next section. Thanks!

Candrah · 04-28-2008, 01:27 PM

Hi and welcome to the forum

)

I enjoyed reading this. It kept me interested and I Liked the chemistry between Trey and Abigail. Wont say anything about the grammar - its already been expertly covered by others - but I will say... Can't wait to read more!

Good work.

Sir Twilight · 05-16-2008, 12:42 PM

Not a whole heck of a lot of chemistry, yet, you know? I'm glad you see that there could be something there. Most people think it's a bunch of

(no names)
Lol, I better get the next section up and running.