bioclasm
May 17th, 2013, 08:34 AM
Hey guys,
So I've finally settled on something I wrote for my first story that I was satisfied with. It's a post apocalyptic novel, where the apocalypse happens on Earth in the future after inter-solar space travel. I've another post a while back about the concept I've developed. I've been struggling with a few writing techniques, like how to describe the character/scenery without disrupting the flow of the story. I do have a habit of run on sentences, so I've tried to make each sentence flow smoothly. I've currently settled with Liam as the name for the main character, but am also considering Caleb. I'm also unsure how to tell you he's thirteen without flat out saying he's thirteen, but it feels like it doesn't match the narrative I'm using.
I'm looking for critique/advice on what I've got now before I keep going. I can crank out a few more parts this weekend. Anything helps.
Voidborn: Of Ash and Steel
Liam watched the trees rise around him, ash dancing among their leaves, before landing on his back from three meters, knocking the wind out of him. Pain was tearing at the back of his eyes, and scratching at the inside of his forehead as he rolled onto his side. He could see spheres of matter vanishing around him. Craters appeared in the ground and trees around him, with a crystal material splintering away from the new void. A large portion of a cedar tree's trunk vanished, leaving it to helplessly collapse under its own weight.
Liam slowly picked his thirteen year old self up from the ground, his head reeling, and his body aching. He stood in a shallow, perfectly smooth crater, the inside a purple obsidian with crystal tendrils radiating outward like the others. He took a single step before falling to his knees, overtaken by extreme nausea as he vomited what little was in his stomach onto the smooth glass. Rising, his muscles weak, he strained to take each step forward, lurching between the cedars and firs. At each one he used to support himself, he would glance around to follow a half hazard path where the craters shrunk in size. The anomaly appeared to have ended, yet he wasn't going to take any chances. His vision tunneled into black as yet another wave of nausea overtook him, causing him to trip over a root. He laid there until his vision returned, wiping bile from his mouth. Blood. His nose was bleeding, but he wasn't sure from what.
He continued stumbling around trees until he found a break from the forest, opening into a large plain of waist high, yellow-green grass. The cloudy skies filtered the morning light, casting an empty shadow blue onto the Earth. The greens of leaves and grass were drained to a lesser shade, appearing almost fake, showing life only by proxy of the wind rustling through them. He could see the rolls of dull metal-gray from a shuttle craft further into the grasslands. The sheared metal of the front half curved out of the frozen earth like the bleached ribs of some long dead beast. The grass obscured all but the largest of the fragments spiking out of the ground around its grave.
As Liam drew closer he could see the rear half farther off to his right, crumpled and neglected. An engine, a large thruster emulating a jet turbine, was held away from the body by two wings pinching the engine into a triangle, sticking at sixty degrees in the air. His vision began to tunnel again as he slumped down against the cold steel of the craft. It stole at the warmth of his body through his jacket, the cold seeping into his bones as he waited for the nausea to pass, pain still squeezing on his eyes. Liam crawled around the edge of the craft into the main section. He guessed by what design was evident, it used to be one Boeing's later transobrital shuttles, managing eighty meters in length. He crawled towards the cockpit at the end of what twelve meters were left of this section. He managed to slide under one of the harnessed benches on the side of the craft to escape the cold wind sliding through its corpse. He curled up in a ball just before blacking out.
He woke to the sound of metal grating against metal. The pain in his head had diminished to dull throb. He noticed blood along his arm that must have been from another nosebleed in his sleep. From his place under the bench he could see two men across from him who had pried the metal casing off one of the panels lining the ceiling on either side. They were pulling out bits of circuitry, wires, and rusting microchips and stuffing them into the top pocket of a worn out backpack. Fear seized Liam's heart, forcing it to pump faster, increasing the pressure behind his eyes.
“How much did he say he was going to pay for the electrical stuff?” Liam heard one of them ask.
“I don't know. He only gave me a list for stuff from the research facility. He didn't mention anything about a downed shuttle. He usually only asks for parts from the engines, which are on the other half,” he flung an arm out towards the grasslands.
The attention of the two men was focused intently on the contents of the panels they were cannibalizing. The interior width of the cabin was around eight meters, giving Liam room to slowly slide past them back out into the cold. He started to run, his footsteps fell hard on the frozen earth as he scrambled back towards the treeline. The pain in his head swelled as his vision began to fade. Blind, he stumbled forward until tripping over something and landing on his side. He could hear the footsteps of the other men pursuing him. Liam rolled onto his back as his vision started to return, to look up at the two men approaching, one with a pistol in his right hand. Their frail frames wore very dirty clothes, their unshaven visages smiling down at Liam.
“Oh-ho-ho, what do you think he'd pay for him, Jason?” the one without a gun asked, his head twitching to the side as he nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.
The other took a step forward, his arm stretching towards Liam, “I'm sure-”
There was a pitched whine, ending in a soft thud, and the man's shoulder quickly twisted back; shifting all the man's weight back on his heels, followed by a distant crack. The man's grin was now contorted in confusion as he looked down at his chest, blood blooming on his shirt, trailing down towards his stomach. He fell to his left knee, falling forward to put his weight on his left arm as he turned his confused look to Liam. His companion's attention was firmly on the gun that fell from Jason's fingers as he collapsed. His whole body spazzing out more than previously as he couldn't seem to settle on running away or lunging for the 1911 pistol.
Another whine. The head of the twitching man snapped back. He crumbled to the ground as the crack sounded once more, like someone striking two rocks together. The life had left Jason, slumping him over his side. Liam remained lying on the ground for several moments. He was certain the shooter was behind him, and couldn't see Liam in the tall grass if he held still. He hadn't fallen far from the wreckage, and could see the canopy from the treeline some hundred meters away. He could feel the nausea returning, his head screaming for darkness. Yet fear subdued his fatigue, forcing him to crawl forward to grab for the pistol lying in the grass. It took all his strength to drag the heavy weapon to him. He rolled onto his back and tried to bring it up, yet his arms trembled violently as his muscles expelled the rest of their energy to hold it.
There was pure silence, with the seconds counted by the waves in the grass from the winter wind. He simply couldn't hold the pistol up, and let his arms fall to his sides. After several moments he could see the grass moving from more than just the wind. He couldn't see a source, just the parting of grass. Staring at it a moment he could make out something hovering just above the grass. As darkness struggled to seize him he could make out a pale face with black hair, and a rifle floating above the grass. His nose started bleeding again as he started to resolve a strange distortion of light accompanying the floating objects. He blacked out, his last vision that of the strange rail rifle hovering in front of the mirage.
Thanks,
-bioclasm
So I've finally settled on something I wrote for my first story that I was satisfied with. It's a post apocalyptic novel, where the apocalypse happens on Earth in the future after inter-solar space travel. I've another post a while back about the concept I've developed. I've been struggling with a few writing techniques, like how to describe the character/scenery without disrupting the flow of the story. I do have a habit of run on sentences, so I've tried to make each sentence flow smoothly. I've currently settled with Liam as the name for the main character, but am also considering Caleb. I'm also unsure how to tell you he's thirteen without flat out saying he's thirteen, but it feels like it doesn't match the narrative I'm using.
I'm looking for critique/advice on what I've got now before I keep going. I can crank out a few more parts this weekend. Anything helps.
Voidborn: Of Ash and Steel
Liam watched the trees rise around him, ash dancing among their leaves, before landing on his back from three meters, knocking the wind out of him. Pain was tearing at the back of his eyes, and scratching at the inside of his forehead as he rolled onto his side. He could see spheres of matter vanishing around him. Craters appeared in the ground and trees around him, with a crystal material splintering away from the new void. A large portion of a cedar tree's trunk vanished, leaving it to helplessly collapse under its own weight.
Liam slowly picked his thirteen year old self up from the ground, his head reeling, and his body aching. He stood in a shallow, perfectly smooth crater, the inside a purple obsidian with crystal tendrils radiating outward like the others. He took a single step before falling to his knees, overtaken by extreme nausea as he vomited what little was in his stomach onto the smooth glass. Rising, his muscles weak, he strained to take each step forward, lurching between the cedars and firs. At each one he used to support himself, he would glance around to follow a half hazard path where the craters shrunk in size. The anomaly appeared to have ended, yet he wasn't going to take any chances. His vision tunneled into black as yet another wave of nausea overtook him, causing him to trip over a root. He laid there until his vision returned, wiping bile from his mouth. Blood. His nose was bleeding, but he wasn't sure from what.
He continued stumbling around trees until he found a break from the forest, opening into a large plain of waist high, yellow-green grass. The cloudy skies filtered the morning light, casting an empty shadow blue onto the Earth. The greens of leaves and grass were drained to a lesser shade, appearing almost fake, showing life only by proxy of the wind rustling through them. He could see the rolls of dull metal-gray from a shuttle craft further into the grasslands. The sheared metal of the front half curved out of the frozen earth like the bleached ribs of some long dead beast. The grass obscured all but the largest of the fragments spiking out of the ground around its grave.
As Liam drew closer he could see the rear half farther off to his right, crumpled and neglected. An engine, a large thruster emulating a jet turbine, was held away from the body by two wings pinching the engine into a triangle, sticking at sixty degrees in the air. His vision began to tunnel again as he slumped down against the cold steel of the craft. It stole at the warmth of his body through his jacket, the cold seeping into his bones as he waited for the nausea to pass, pain still squeezing on his eyes. Liam crawled around the edge of the craft into the main section. He guessed by what design was evident, it used to be one Boeing's later transobrital shuttles, managing eighty meters in length. He crawled towards the cockpit at the end of what twelve meters were left of this section. He managed to slide under one of the harnessed benches on the side of the craft to escape the cold wind sliding through its corpse. He curled up in a ball just before blacking out.
He woke to the sound of metal grating against metal. The pain in his head had diminished to dull throb. He noticed blood along his arm that must have been from another nosebleed in his sleep. From his place under the bench he could see two men across from him who had pried the metal casing off one of the panels lining the ceiling on either side. They were pulling out bits of circuitry, wires, and rusting microchips and stuffing them into the top pocket of a worn out backpack. Fear seized Liam's heart, forcing it to pump faster, increasing the pressure behind his eyes.
“How much did he say he was going to pay for the electrical stuff?” Liam heard one of them ask.
“I don't know. He only gave me a list for stuff from the research facility. He didn't mention anything about a downed shuttle. He usually only asks for parts from the engines, which are on the other half,” he flung an arm out towards the grasslands.
The attention of the two men was focused intently on the contents of the panels they were cannibalizing. The interior width of the cabin was around eight meters, giving Liam room to slowly slide past them back out into the cold. He started to run, his footsteps fell hard on the frozen earth as he scrambled back towards the treeline. The pain in his head swelled as his vision began to fade. Blind, he stumbled forward until tripping over something and landing on his side. He could hear the footsteps of the other men pursuing him. Liam rolled onto his back as his vision started to return, to look up at the two men approaching, one with a pistol in his right hand. Their frail frames wore very dirty clothes, their unshaven visages smiling down at Liam.
“Oh-ho-ho, what do you think he'd pay for him, Jason?” the one without a gun asked, his head twitching to the side as he nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.
The other took a step forward, his arm stretching towards Liam, “I'm sure-”
There was a pitched whine, ending in a soft thud, and the man's shoulder quickly twisted back; shifting all the man's weight back on his heels, followed by a distant crack. The man's grin was now contorted in confusion as he looked down at his chest, blood blooming on his shirt, trailing down towards his stomach. He fell to his left knee, falling forward to put his weight on his left arm as he turned his confused look to Liam. His companion's attention was firmly on the gun that fell from Jason's fingers as he collapsed. His whole body spazzing out more than previously as he couldn't seem to settle on running away or lunging for the 1911 pistol.
Another whine. The head of the twitching man snapped back. He crumbled to the ground as the crack sounded once more, like someone striking two rocks together. The life had left Jason, slumping him over his side. Liam remained lying on the ground for several moments. He was certain the shooter was behind him, and couldn't see Liam in the tall grass if he held still. He hadn't fallen far from the wreckage, and could see the canopy from the treeline some hundred meters away. He could feel the nausea returning, his head screaming for darkness. Yet fear subdued his fatigue, forcing him to crawl forward to grab for the pistol lying in the grass. It took all his strength to drag the heavy weapon to him. He rolled onto his back and tried to bring it up, yet his arms trembled violently as his muscles expelled the rest of their energy to hold it.
There was pure silence, with the seconds counted by the waves in the grass from the winter wind. He simply couldn't hold the pistol up, and let his arms fall to his sides. After several moments he could see the grass moving from more than just the wind. He couldn't see a source, just the parting of grass. Staring at it a moment he could make out something hovering just above the grass. As darkness struggled to seize him he could make out a pale face with black hair, and a rifle floating above the grass. His nose started bleeding again as he started to resolve a strange distortion of light accompanying the floating objects. He blacked out, his last vision that of the strange rail rifle hovering in front of the mirage.
Thanks,
-bioclasm