[December88]

Hello everyone.

I feel bad for posting up so much stuff but the truth is that i was asked for a partial request from an agent 2 months ago. I've since been paranoid about sending in my already completed work in and have drafted, re-drafted my first thirty pages so much that it is begin to look like something totally different now.

Anyhow, here is the nth revision of my first chapter. I'm sure some of you have seem some variation/distorment of it at one point or another on here but please, be patient :D

Any help i can get would be great. Is the writing okay or is it terrible?
Is the scene too dull/boring? or does it hold your interest?

Are the characters beleivable/likeable?

I'm going to paste the first bit in here and will provide a link to the full first chapter below.

Link to full chapter: http://www.sffworld.com/community/story/3587p0.html



Thanks!

CHAPTER ONE

I have killed enough to know that the real enemy is not the one at the end of my blade but the one who told me to kill.

The words were the final entry on the very last page of a bound, black book – a diary which the new girl carried wherever she went. She dropped it when the bullies came to take her.

They dragged her by her hair and shoulders, away to a punishment they all knew she deserved. For she had somehow disrespected Aislin, and even though none of the students knew how or why she had done such a thing, it didn't bother them. For Aislin was an elf, and to disrespect an elf was to disrespect the whole academy because, simply put, everyone loved the elves. Even Varrin Ebonlocke. Although, maybe not all that much.

Varrin waited until the posse had passed the fringe of trees and was out of sight before he knelt upon one knee and picked up the book. Opening it, he discovered it to be a diary and paused for a moment, debating the morality of his actions. I'm only going to take a quick look, He defended himself, besides I'm not going to be pushing her around and calling her names like the others.
As if on cue, laughter – the cruel sort- erupted from the direction of the main grounds.

“Get her hair again!” yelled someone.

“Over here, into the dirt!” cried another. More laughter.

Absolved, Varrin began flipping through the pages, searching for something – not because he was a snoop or thief – but because he had been intoxicated with an alluring curiosity ever since he had first laid his eyes upon the girl. Or rather, the first time she had laid her eyes upon him.

It had been in class earlier that day; he had caught her staring at him but when their eyes met, his own had been repelled almost instantly. It simply wasn't right; as far as Varrin recalled, the person caught staring was supposed to be the one who looked away, red and burning with guilt, not the other way around.

Regardless, everything Varrin had seen in that panic inducing fragment of a second was more than enough to distract him for an eternity. Simariel was her name, and to Varrin, it was just as beautiful and mystifying as her outlandish looks and quaint dress sense.

Catcalls and jeers echoed in the background. Blank page after blank page stared up accusingly at Varrin as he continued to flip through the diary. Then he came to the end and found himself perplexed by the strange, rust colored ink in which the words had been penned in. After reading it, he readily tried to dismiss it as nothing but fanciful scribble. But when his eyes traced over the writing for a third time, observing the way in which the ends of each letter eerily trailed down the page in a manner that was so unlike that of ink, his stomach curdled and he realized that he wasn't going to be able to so easily dismiss something written in blood.

A scream, sharp and piercing, shattered Varrin's daze and he jumped to his feet, startled. Voices cried out in confusion, alarm and then, anger. Something had gone wrong.

All of a sudden, he heard footsteps, barely audible over the din of rabble. Someone was approaching.
A shadow, a form cut through through the light that peeped from in between cracks in the trees. A girl, alone. But how could it be? Thought Varrin, She shouldn't be here, she should be face down in a mud hole!

However there wasn't much time to ponder. Quickly gathering the book as well as his nerves, Varrin faced the opposite side of the clearing, readying himself; for what exactly, he didn't know.

Simariel came to a stop barley a few feet away. Her hair was tousled, her face; smudged with dirt and her clothes; torn in several places. Brown but barren eyes immediately set themselves upon the diary in Varrin's hand then moved up to settle upon his face exactly as they had earlier in the day.

Desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Varrin thwarted what was threatening to quickly become a very uncomfortable silence. “You dropped it when they took you.” he said, extending the diary more timidly than he would have liked to.

“I know.” said Simariel in a whisper of a voice.

A minute ticked by, Varrin was very aware of Simariel's stare. He in turn determinedly studied the ground by her feet. His hand was still outstretched and his breath was still held – it had been ever since he had spoken. Slowly his gaze shifted upward, past her knees, her waist, her chest. The commotion from the main grounds faded away, flushed from his ears by a numb silence. His chest was on the verge of bursting but he felt no inclination to exhale; everything began to blur, everything except Simariel; her chin, her mouth, her nose, her eyes...

Simariel turned away, the air rushed out of Varrin's lungs and before he knew what had happened, the diary was snatched from him. He looked down at his empty hand, shocked, then looked up at Simariel but she was already at the other end of the clearing , back turned to him and stalking away.

Stepping forward unsteadily he opened his mouth halfway as if to call her back. No sound came from his lips. She was gone.

It took Varrin several moments and an equal number of deep breathes to regain his composure. He finally stumbled forth, past the trees and on to the main grounds which he found to be in complete chaos.

[shashekar]

Printed for later reading. Nag me if I do not get back to you.

[kmtolan]

Well, you have a few point of view issues such as.

The words were the final entry on the very last page of a bound, black book (your main character never saw this page) and Remulin waved his hand dismissively and settled into deep thought for a moment. (your main character wouldn't know that)

Sentence structure issues such as:
They too bore multiple gashes and purple bruises, they too were slumped in the grass, unconscious. (should be two sentences)

And then we have the main character stricken with a girl but unwilling to either help or defend her honor - even while giving testimony. So, he's a coward, yes?

Now, here's the thing. These are minor nits, and my last observation may be just fine cause that's what you wanted. You might go through your work and see if a period could stand in better for a comma since that's the pattern I noticed. Also keep in mind that you should introduce names in a more meaningful manner Even Varrin Ebonlocke. since nobody knows/cares about this person yet.

If you are unsure of your work as to keep reworking it, then you have no business offering it to an agent in my humble opinion. Find a more thorough forum such as Yahoo Groups can offer and get some line-by-line edits. When you do have the confidence - start your submissions. Just keep in mind that any critique will turn up things no matter how many times you polish. Sooner or later you either have to ride that horse or get the hell off the saddle.

Kerry (handing over a riding crop)

[shashekar]

I'm still reading your piece, slowly. I'm not happy with how the scene with the bullies plays out. It feels awkward. A more natural approach would have one of the bullies reading aloud passages from her diary as they beat her up and otherwise humiliated her (I've been there, it happens and by the gods it hurts). The in-crowd beating up the weird chick is always a spectator sport. Put Varrin in that crowd, but make it clear that he isn't the person laughing.

Another problem is your use of language. Your wording is, for lack of a better term, too formal for the situation. These are kids, teenagers, picking upon one another, not adults at a debating society.

Hmm. This scene just doesn't flow naturally, I'm sorry. I feel like I should be seeing lines like, ''Listen to what this little bitch wrote!'' Are you writing for adults or teenagers? What age-sticker would you put on your novel if you had to?

[shashekar]

Alright, I read your entire piece through and it is my opinion that it wouldn't get published. There are several main flaws:

You tell me what has happened, not show; the bullies attacking Samariel and then her retribution upon them occur off-screen.

Your grammar is really poor in places and the words you've chosen to use just aren't suited to the characters (children in school).

"Please Varrin, we must allow place for the nurses to work, he is fine trust me friend."

Grammar is utterly subjective when writing fiction, but there are still certain things you should and should not do for the sake of interrupting the flow of the story.

Your story doesn't throw out any hooks, doesn't entice me into reading further. There's absolutely no mention to anything, anywhere or anyone beyond the immediate circumstances of the characters involved in the brawl. Remove all of the other characters in this prologue save for Varrin and the girl. Its obvious that you're setting up future interactions between them, and it wouldn't hurt to strongly set that from the beginning.

Overall, the piece needs to be rewitten and subjected to the scrutiny of an editor willing to work with you.

[MElliott]

Maybe I'm easy to please, maybe my tastes are vastly different from that of the others on the sight, or maybe it's something else entirely. As it stands, I enjoyed what I read of the chapter. I didn't follow the link, but I did read what you have posted underneath it. I'm not sure it's publishable, but I think it's on its way there.

First, I'd like to mention that I liked your writing. You do have some trouble with grammar that you should be looking out for- kerry and shashekar weren't lying- but there are other sentences and paragraphs that I found to be very eloquent. I think that you have the potential to be quite good, if not now then at some point down the line, with some more practice.

I thought the story was compelling enough to keep me reading for a bit. I liked that Varrin wasn't your classic paragon of all that is good and right with the world; after all, he elected to read the girl's diary rather than to help her fend off her tormentors. His relationship with Simariel is enough to spark my curiosity. Could just be because I'm a romantic though. Others might need a little bit more to keep them reading.

All in all, you've planted the seeds to a story that could be quite entertaining. As to whether or not it's ready to be submitted to an agent, my answer would have to be no. You need to reread it a few more times to fix your grammar and some of your dialogue. The story itself is up to you. I didn't mind it as was, but ultimately you're the one writing it, and it's on your shoulders to decide what's best.

Good luck, hope you find that agent.