# Post Your Opening Paragraph



## Steerpike (Dec 10, 2012)

I thought this might be a fun, ongoing thread. Take the opening paragraph from one of your works, be it a novel or short story, and post it in this thread. *The person who posts after you will comment on your paragraph, and then post one of theirs. *

Comments should be along the lines of:

1. Did you like the opening.
2. Would you continue to read beyond it?
3. Why or why not.

Comments can be as brief or lengthy as you like, so long as they hit on those three points. If you want to comment on other opening paragraphs earlier in the thread, that's fine, but you have to at least comment on the one immediately preceding your own post.

Any takers?


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## Steerpike (Dec 10, 2012)

To start us off:



> The man who promised Imke justice or death arrived half an hour late, a baguette tucked under one arm. His silver beard stood out against his charcoal-gray wool coat. He gave Imke an apologetic smile, removed his cap, and sat, eyes watery behind his spectacles.


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## psychotick (Dec 10, 2012)

Hi,

Steerpike I liked the description, and the way the idea of justice and death contrasts with his fairly harmless appearance, at least in my thoughts. But should it be "The man who had promised -"? I would though read the next paragraph or two to find out more.

"Elwene knelt in quiet prayer at the Altar of Rose Fury. Supposedly she was trying to feel the spiritual power of the Mother upon the spot, but mostly she was simply enjoying the warmth of the spring day and the sweet aroma of the flowers. Maybe they were the same thing."

Cheers, Greg.


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## saellys (Dec 10, 2012)

Great thread! I love that opening, and I want to know who Imke is and why she(?) wants death or justice (or does she?) and what the silver bearded man is going to do about it, after he finishes his baguette, of course. In short, yes, I would absolutely read more. 

Here's mine:



> One golden ray through his window was all Haelon Korvald would see of the sun that morning. Leaden clouds hung a finger’s width above the horizon, and gauzy curtains obscured the mountains. Haelon blew a sigh at the impending rain as he blinked himself awake. This would complicate his travel plans.



EDIT: Whoops, ninja'd! Greg, I love the equation of supernatural and natural power. I'd read more.


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## Ireth (Dec 10, 2012)

I like the description in yours, saellys, and I'm interested to know where Haelon is going to travel. I'd read on. 



> LÃ³egaire crept through the dark halls of CaisleÃ¡n Cuileann, his soft leather boots silent on the floor. He wore black, kept his fair hair under a hood, and had woven a Glamour around himself to hide, but still kept to the emptiest halls for his safety. He blessed the thousand years that had made him so familiar with the castle. The dungeons were near; he would reach them with ease.


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## Ankari (Dec 11, 2012)

@Steerpike: Clashing such heavy ideas as justice and death with an old man clutching a baguette would draw me in for a chapter or two.  I would pick up on the author's sense of humor right away and hope the rest of the book is written in that tone.

@Psychotick:  You would have me _if_ you rewrote the second sentence.

""Elwene knelt in quiet prayer at the Altar of Rose Fury. She tried to feel the spiritual power of the Mother upon the spot.  Instead, she enjoyed the warmth of the spring day and the sweet aroma of the flowers. Maybe they were the same thing."

The use of the word _Supposedly_ tells me that whatever follows that word isn't true.  It sucks the power from the imagery you're trying to build.

@Sallys:  Yeah.  You got my attention for another page or two.  I want to know where Haelon is going.  From what you're written, he isn't a hardened warrior and, most likely, not young.  So I'm curious to know if my assumptions of Haelon are right.

@Ireth:  Yeah, you got me for another page or two.  I would want to know why someone so familiar with this castle is creeping around like a thief.

Now mine.  This is from a short story that should be near ready for public consumption soon.



> From his perch atop a hill outside the village, Aulog stared at the citizens of Dapu, waiting for an answer to materialize.  They weren’t supposed to be here.  All villagers were called back to the safety of the hollowed mountain chain of Dagor proper.  When asked to explain their disobedience, blank faces offered weak excuses and embarrassed apologies.


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## ThinkerX (Dec 11, 2012)

Steerpike: A bit bland, I'm afraid. It's good, buts its mundane. I probably would read a few more paragraphs, though.  

Psychotick: Workable, mostly because the character seems to have doubts.  Likely, I'd stick with it for a page or so.

Ireth: I like this! A thousand year old guy sneaking INTO a castle dungeon - this has promise.

Ankari: Having read the story in question more than once, I can say...the opening paragraph sets the tone. I like it, but it could probably stand some tweaking. 

And now my offering, from the current start of 'Labyrinth':



> “Lord Titus Maximus deserves the death of a thousand cuts!” said the thin merchant to the near empty tap room of the Blue Mug.


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## MadMadys (Dec 11, 2012)

I'll just comment on yours or else these posts are going to get massive.

ThinkerX, the 'thousand cut' line made me think of many tiny paper cuts.  A cruel torture to be sure but I'm not sure if that's the threat you're going for.  Maybe because I enjoy Roman history, and you've got a Maximus right off the bat, I'll probably keep reading.  The bit after the quote seems a bit long for the very first line as well.



> The smoke choked interior made her lone eye perspire and close.  When it did open there was not much to look at;  taps, brown planked wall, and years old stains.  Skulking over the bar, Deidra rocked back and forth out of habit to keep her head straight.  Finger tapped the edge of the glass filled with a sickly brown liquid.  Sipping it was not pleasant but it was worth it.


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## Reaver (Dec 11, 2012)

Well MM, may I call you MM? I love the imagery. I felt the tinge of bile rising in the back of my throat when I got to the sickly brown liquid part. Nicely done.




> My name is Ultimus Manimus and I am a slave.
> 
> To fashion!
> 
> I mean, have you seen all the trends I've started? It's not easy being a paragon of war, physical fitness and fashion..all that makes a REAL man a REAL man. What can I say? The men hate me because the women love me.


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## Darkblade (Dec 12, 2012)

If the Ultimus is gay the stereotyping would drive me away really fast. That said my interest is peaked and I would continue to read about the fantastic fashion adventures described within.



> Loretta Stopholies blinked as she found herself standing in a dark room with a single light being cast down upon her from somewhere above. She tried to recall how she got here but can draw nothing but blankness from the moment she stepped out of the Wonderful World Toys offices. A glance at her watch confirms that was hours ago.


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## CupofJoe (Dec 12, 2012)

From these few words it is hard to tell if I liked it as an opening. It was engaging; Is WWT an evil corp? Was she drugged or abducted? What is going to happen next to Loretta. So it did get me wondering.
I'd read on for a chapter or two at least. It definitely didn’t turn me off but I guess that Loretta has to get some answers fairly fast and then the adventure starts...
Personally I'd like some description of the room [or even of the darkness in the room] but there again that is what I would have written and not what DarkBlade wanted to write...



> It was near dawn and the market was a growing riot of sounds and smells. The mid winter’s eve decorations were still up but he didn’t feel joyous or repentant. He was just hungry. Mackie stood at the corner of the square and huddled out of the sleet. The flames in the torches gutted and spluttered making him jump between shivers. He had stopped feeling the tightening knot in his stomach hours ago but the growing faintness meant that he couldn’t forget that he hadn’t eaten since the day before yesterday.


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## Xaysai (Dec 12, 2012)

CupofJoe, 

I think I might have liked to have the weather elements (sleet/cold) bundled into the first sentence where you are setting up the environment so I had it in my mind as you moved into the character and his situation.

I think I also might have like to have the opening paragraph end on something he was planning to do, or something that was about to happen to get me to want to find out what happens. Ending it on the fact that he was hungry doesn't really compel me to keep reading!

I get the feeling that he is an orphan, or maybe even a feral child, but is he going to steal food? Pickpocket passerby's? Is someone going to approach him (maybe with sinister intentions) to offer assistance?

I only have one work so far to offer up an opening paragraph with, so sorry if you've read it:



> With increasing frequency I've found myself standing at the intersection of These Things Never Go As Planned and Try Not To Shit Myself While Escaping From People Or Things Which Seek To Kill, Eat or Inhabit Me, and today proved to be no exception.


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## Ireth (Dec 12, 2012)

I adore the humorous voice in that paragraph, and it definitely entices me to read more. Who's the person in trouble, and what sort of plans are going awry?



> VÃ¡das lifted his chin from his paws, watching his father pace outside the entrance to the den. The night was half over, and still there was no word about the arrival of the pups VÃ¡das' mother was birthing. The whole pack had grown restless over the past weeks, but VÃ¡das knew his father was the most anxious. The grizzled alpha kept his ears pricked as he paced, glancing into the den every so often, and huffed a sigh through his nose when his mate's aide did not emerge with news, or even call out from within.


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## Twook00 (Dec 12, 2012)

Very good opening.  I'm assuming these are wolves, right?  It has a warm tone and a pleasant hook.  I'm sensing middle-grade to young adult.  I would keep reading for sure.



> Strangeboy Jorrin's face seized.  The muscles in his cheeks knotted, jerking his lips taut in a rictus sneer.  He hardly noticed anymore. It ached, of course, and breathing the cold air dried his gums and seared his teeth, but that was fine.  He liked the pain.


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## Ireth (Dec 12, 2012)

This is straightforward and interesting; I'm curious to know more about Jorrin's seizures. I'm guessing it's Bell's palsy -- I've never seen something like that in a fantasy book before. I'd definitely read on.



> Fiachra adjusted his mask one final time, checking that the leather band was secure behind his pointed ears and hidden under his hair.  He smiled in satisfaction and pushed open the double doors to the throne room of Caer Celynnen, stepping inside with his head held high.


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 12, 2012)

Ireth: 
I LOVE the descriptions given, however I doubt I'd read much more based on this one bit alone, it just does not give me enough to give me any idea about what type of book this would be. That being said, having read many postings by you BASED on THAT I would read the whole book even if it were not my "Cup of Tea" because I know for sure it will be quality work.  


Opening to: The Watchers. First book in The Guardians series.

"Thick blue smoke billowed up from the crackling logs of the small fire, swirling upward to the purple sky, the occasional pop and crack of the burning wood the only sounds that disturbed the utter silence of the glade.  Breathing deeply and steadily, Moksha sank deeper into the depths of his mind, focusing on the images that formed. The creation of the world, from its birth to its eventual destruction, raced by, misery washed over Moksha and settled deep within his soul as he watched the visions play out."


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## Xaysai (Dec 13, 2012)

The Blue Lotus:

I think I would like to "see" some of the images leading to Moksha's misery in the opening paragraph to let me know what I'm dealing with, because at this point I don't know : (

Is it war? Are stars being born and/or dying? Is there some evil force plotting to destroy the world? Are things burning?


This is from an opening scene where my main character is assaulting bad guys at an archaeology dig who are trying to unearth an item of great power, and my main character is trying to stop them:



> Left hand over the mouth? Check. Edge of index finger pushing up on the base of the nose to keep the head properly elevated? Check. Apply pressure of knife held in right hand and rip from left to right across throat? Also check. Truth be told, I prefer snapping necks to cutting them, only because the latter can be messy and you have to sit there waiting for the victom to die. However, if you don’t get just the right centrifugal force with just the right speed at just the right angle, the neck doesn’t actually break and then don’t you just feel stupid…


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 13, 2012)

Xaysai said:


> The Blue Lotus:
> 
> I think I would like to "see" some of the images leading to Moksha's misery in the opening paragraph to let me know what I'm dealing with, because at this point I don't know : (
> 
> ...



Xaysai, you ask good questions hopefully I have addressed all of them in the next (second) paragraph! 
That's the problem with this type of challenge it is just far too limited to give a good scope.  BTW Nice opener.


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## Xaysai (Dec 13, 2012)

The Blue Lotus said:


> Xaysai, you ask good questions hopefully I have addressed all of them in the next (second) paragraph!
> That's the problem with this type of challenge it is just far too limited to give a good scope.  BTW Nice opener.



Well, now I want to start a new thread titled "Post Your Second Paragraph"!


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 13, 2012)

lol so do it!


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## Ireth (Dec 13, 2012)

Xaysai said:


> Well, now I want to start a new thread titled "Post Your Second Paragraph"!



I'd be down for one that's "Post Your First ~250 Words". ^^


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 13, 2012)

Ireth said:


> I'd be down for one that's "Post Your First ~250 Words". ^^



OK that would be cool and all but what makes that a challenge??? Would that not just get filed/moved to the showcase?


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## Ireth (Dec 13, 2012)

The Blue Lotus said:


> OK that would be cool and all but what makes that a challenge??? Would that not just get filed/moved to the showcase?



Why couldn't it be the same thing we're doing here?


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 13, 2012)

This is just something "fun" but it is not IMHO a challenge... Then again I might just be nitpicky?


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## Inglorious_Hero (Dec 16, 2012)

I lost where the last person posted their paragraph.  Too much off-topic going on for my attention-deficit mind.  Anywho:



> The wind stirred, leaves rustled in the undergrowth, and the smell of charred wood and alcohol coursed through the air.  Randall sat, undisturbed, wondering where the fire was coming from.  Leaves hung suspended from imaginary ropes in the blackness, lit with flames.  Widow maker rested at his side.  He loosened the sword in its sheath, tightened his belt, and began creeping lightly in the direction of the petroleum odor.  The leaves made no noise under his soft feet and light pace.  He was an elf after all; experts in the art of subtlety.  His woodland attire was covered in dirt and blood, from the light green tunic all the way down to his brown pants and ranger’s boots. He had spent much longer in this wretched forest than he had anticipated.  He was a scout, albeit, a scout without a company of warriors to return to.


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## Reaver (Dec 17, 2012)

The Blue Lotus said:


> This is just something "fun" but it is not IMHO a challenge... Then again I might just be nitpicky?



I agree with BL here. Looking back at the beginning post, a challenge is never really given or implied. This is actually very much akin to the This or That? thread in Chit Chat, so that's where I'm moving it.


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## Feo Takahari (Dec 18, 2012)

Inglorious Hero, 

You create a nice atmosphere with the lines about smoke and leaves, and I'd definitely read a little farther to find out what's going on. My only worry is that, in trying to introduce this character so quickly, you tend too obviously towards telling instead of showing, most obviously with "He was an elf, after all." I'd recommend cloaking your telling in a veneer of showing--maybe have him mutter something in a strange language, then identify it as Elvish, or have his pointed ears prick up at a sudden sound?



> Price wished she could fly. She also wished for super strength, and X-ray vision, and maybe some decent cleavage (a superpower few of her fictional inspirations were without), but flight would have made it ten times easier to patrol the streets for crime. It was largely to compensate for this lack that she had stacked cardboard boxes atop a dumpster, and had spent the past half-hour practicing how to land from a fall.


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## Xaysai (Dec 23, 2012)

Let's not let this thread die!

Feo, I really like your opening - especially the humor regarding cleavage.

The only thing that distracted me was:



> but flight would have made it ten times easier to patrol the streets for crime



Unless this is the part of your "style" or how the character thinks, I think you can much better than "ten times easier". How on earth do you quantify how much easier to patrol streets is when flying is involved?



> I awoke to find myself laying upon a table which I know I hadn’t passed out on. Strangely, I didn't seem to be as dead as I should have been. A thick, sterile “doctor” smell occupied the room, you now the one - gauze, bandages, antiseptic, ointments. Across the room, a blob sitting at a workbench came into focus: it's a man, I think. Yeah, definitely a man. Older - much older than me, white smock, white hair. OK I must be in a hospital or some kind of - "lab, Ark. Yes, you are in a lab,” the blob explained without looking up from his work, “my lab."


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## Graylorne (Dec 23, 2012)

A nice opening. Begins with some questions, too. I'd want to read on, at least to see what's it all about (you won't catch me with zombies, werewolves or vampires, though). But a bit of Planescape: Torment (the pc game), for that's what I had to think of.

----

Opening to the Prelude of _Scarfar _(not a prologue, because the story continues where the prelude ends. It's separate, because none of the people involved are relevant for the book. Both the weather and what happens are, though).



> It had stopped snowing. After days, the white darkness had withdrawn behind the ridge and now Eidungruve shivered in the frosty blue of the polar night. The watchman on top of the tower leaned on his spear and gazed down at the settlement. It was near the end of his tour and the cold was gnawing at his brain. He swore a little, and started pacing again, six foot up, six foot down, the length of his little kingdom.


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 27, 2012)

Reaver said:


> I agree with BL here. Looking back at the beginning post, a challenge is never really given or implied. This is actually very much akin to the This or That? thread in Chit Chat, so that's where I'm moving it.


However Reaver, it _is_ a good motivator to get someone to finally put words to screen, or pen to paper if you will.


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## Reaver (Dec 27, 2012)

The Blue Lotus said:


> However Reaver, it _is_ a good motivator to get someone to finally put words to screen, or pen to paper if you will.



Agreed. But it's still not technically "a challenge".


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## The Blue Lotus (Dec 27, 2012)

Oh I know the chit chat area is more approppriate for this thread than the challenges are for sure. Thanks for moving it. 
I just meant that a thread like this might be what someone needs to put some words down. Good, bad, or otherwise. One can't write the next best seller if they have no words written! So any lurkers out there Give it a try! We'd love to hear from you. :Smile:


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## Sherman (Jan 17, 2013)

_When I first caught sight of him, I knew he would be the one, even though he was a stranger here.  He was but a lad with fiery red hair and bright eyes.  He had the look of a lost kitten, but he had the makings of a finer helmsman then Jerrold, may he rest in peace._ ----Inzl Kett.

Matthew Ketchings found himself gazing into an enormous eye with moss green lashes.  The eye itself was the same shade of green as a stop light.  It was so big it was like gazing into a window.  He standing in some kind of basket suspended under a creaking wood deck before that eye.   

 From a novel I am currently writing.


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## Xaysai (Jan 22, 2013)

Sherman said:


> _When I first caught sight of him, I knew he would be the one, even though he was a stranger here.  He was but a lad with fiery red hair and bright eyes.  He had the look of a lost kitten, but he had the makings of a finer helmsman then Jerrold, may he rest in peace._ ----Inzl Kett.
> 
> Matthew Ketchings found himself gazing into an enormous eye with moss green lashes.  The eye itself was the same shade of green as a stop light.  It was so big it was like gazing into a window.  He standing in some kind of basket suspended under a creaking wood deck before that eye.
> 
> From a novel I am currently writing.



Decent opening, some of the language is choppy, but I would want to find out what the eye belonged to!

Baltz lifted the glass to his lips, but paused before drinking. He stared forward, maintaining eye contact with his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He turned his head slightly, pointing his ear toward the door. It took a few moments, but screams finally came from the streets. He lifted the glass, toasted himself in the mirror and knocked back the last swallow. That’s when balls of fire began to land amidst village. They impacted close enough to the inn to shake the ground, but none struck it.


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## MadMadys (Jan 22, 2013)

I'm totally cheating here by posting twice but I'm allowed if it's a different story, right?

Xaysai, I'd say this paragraph goes on too long and is very commonplace opening in stories (for further evidence of this, look to my first post in this thread with another character at a bar which I'm planing on changing a little).  You go from a personal scene with this guy to balls of fire in the streets which should probably feature in a new paragraph.  Another minor thing, you start three sentences in this paragraph with 'He' which is a little nitpick from me.

Now, this isn't a paragraph but I'll the first three lines from another story I'm tinkering with:

‘I really do hate the French.’ Croaked Henry.

‘Hey!  My dad’s half French.’ Arthur said, taking his seat around the candlelit table.

‘Means I hate twenty-five per-cent of you.’ Henry chin jiggled as he chided Arthur.


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## Xaysai (Jan 22, 2013)

MadMadys said:


> I'm totally cheating here by posting twice but I'm allowed if it's a different story, right?
> 
> Xaysai, I'd say this paragraph goes on too long and is very commonplace opening in stories (for further evidence of this, look to my first post in this thread with another character at a bar which I'm planing on changing a little).  You go from a personal scene with this guy to balls of fire in the streets which should probably feature in a new paragraph.  Another minor thing, you start three sentences in this paragraph with 'He' which is a little nitpick from me.
> 
> ...



Fine!

I'm going to rewrite it with Baltz at a blood orgy. There's no way anyone has cornered the market on opening scenes with blood orgies.


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## MadMadys (Jan 22, 2013)

Xaysai said:


> I'm going to rewrite it with Baltz at a blood orgy. There's no way anyone has cornered the market on opening scenes with blood orgies.



Also, and it is likely due to my silly brain, I read his name as 'Balz'.  No need to change it just giving full disclosure!


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## Mari (Jan 22, 2013)

MadMadys said:


> ‘I really do hate the French.’ Croaked Henry.
> 
> ‘Hey!  My dad’s half French.’ Arthur said, taking his seat around the candlelit table.
> 
> ‘Means I hate twenty-five per-cent of you.’ Henry chin jiggled as he chided Arthur.



I think you should read this: Punctuating Dialogue -- How to Punctuate Dialogue Correctly

To my taste, you have little more than a pair of talking heads. I think it needs more.


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## MadMadys (Jan 22, 2013)

Mari said:


> I think you should read this: Punctuating Dialogue -- How to Punctuate Dialogue Correctly
> 
> To my taste, you have little more than a pair of talking heads. I think it needs more.



When I do roughs, I don't fuss much about punctuation since its a rough.  As for the second comment, that's what comes after.  Appreciate the read!


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## Mari (Jan 22, 2013)

Sherman said:


> _When I first caught sight of him, I knew he would be the one, even though he was a stranger here.  He was but a lad with fiery red hair and bright eyes.  He had the look of a lost kitten, but he had the makings of a finer helmsman then Jerrold, may he rest in peace._ ----Inzl Kett.
> 
> Matthew Ketchings found himself gazing into an enormous eye with moss green lashes.  The eye itself was the same shade of green as a stop light.  It was so big it was like gazing into a window.  He standing in some kind of basket suspended under a creaking wood deck before that eye.



Here are my thoughts: 

In the first line of the first paragraph, I would replace the pronoun with a proper noun. Any name goes much further is showing us the world and something about the character than a pronoun. 

I think you could tighten this up: He had the look of a lost kitten, but the makings of a finer helmsman then Jerrold, may he rest in peace.

Onto the second paragraph. I think that it might be good to have a transition between the two paragraphs. 

Although the description is nicely done, it is somewhat backwards. I feel that you are describing the largest thing and working your way down is good. I think stop lights are red and not green.  See what you think... 


Matthew Ketchings found himself standing in a basket suspended under a creaking wood deck before an eye the size of a window. The eye was same shade of green as a traffic light, with moss green lashes the length of ... . The eye blinked. 

That said, I think this is an interesting paragraph, and I would like to know what follows.


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## Ireth (Jan 22, 2013)

From an RP I hope to someday, maybe, novelize (note that this was written 3 years ago and does not indicate my current skill):

Conall breathed deeply of the warm May air as he crossed the grassy field swiftly on horseback, heading toward high stone walls of the city. He would be home soon... home to a hot meal and a warm embrace from his beloved wife. Heartened especially by that last thought, he dug his heels into the horse's flanks, goading it on faster.


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## SunnyE (Jan 23, 2013)

Ireth said:


> Conall breathed deeply of the warm May air as he crossed the grassy field swiftly on horseback, heading toward high stone walls of the city. He would be home soon... home to a hot meal and a warm embrace from his beloved wife. Heartened especially by that last thought, he dug his heels into the horse's flanks, goading it on faster.



I like it. Makes me interested in where he's been, how long he's been gone. I'd read on for sure. 

Here's mine from the first draft of my novel. From the prologue:

They were running. Feet pounding the earth, breath coming in ragged gasps. The sounds of leaves rustling and twigs snapping hung heavy in their ears. Both were being beaten by low hanging branches and viciously scratched by thistles in the underbrush. They broke free of the snagging branches into a clearing and onto the banks of a large stream. Without slowing, they sloshed through calf-deep water, narrowly missing large rocks strewn dangerously throughout the stream bed. Out of the water and back into the thicket on the other side. They were exhausted and their hearts hurt from exertion, but they had to keep going.


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## Mari (Jan 23, 2013)

SunnyE said:


> I like it. Makes me interested in where he's been, how long he's been gone. I'd read on for sure.
> 
> Here's mine from the first draft of my novel. From the prologue:
> 
> They were running. Feet pounding the earth, breath coming in ragged gasps. The sounds of leaves rustling and twigs snapping hung heavy in their ears. Both were being beaten by low hanging branches and viciously scratched by thistles in the underbrush. They broke free of the snagging branches into a clearing and onto the banks of a large stream. Without slowing, they sloshed through calf-deep water, narrowly missing large rocks strewn dangerously throughout the stream bed. Out of the water and back into the thicket on the other side. They were exhausted and their hearts hurt from exertion, but they had to keep going.



I don't understand why folks don't like to use names in opening paragraphs. I think names are a good thing. 

Over all this paragraph uses description well and dose what an opening paragraph should: give us a setting, show tone, introduce the character or characters, and as a question. 

Here is something for you to consider: 

Both were being beaten by low hanging branches and viciously scratched by thistles in the underbrush. 

I couldn't read this out loud without needing a breathe. Therefore I think it needs a comma; also I think you could tighten it up a bit. 

Both were beaten by low hanging branches, and viciously scratched by thistles in the underbrush. 



They broke free of the snagging branches into a clearing and onto the banks of a large stream. 

They broke free of the snagging branches, into a clearing and onto the banks of a large stream. 


Without slowing, they sloshed through calf-deep water, narrowly missing large rocks strewn dangerously throughout the stream bed. 

I don't think you need to say where the rocks were. We know. 

Without slowing, they sloshed through calf-deep water, narrowly missing large rocks.  



Over all I think you convey the emotion, and action well. 

[[[[[]]]]]]]

Here is my opening to my first novel, Thank Teller. 

Call me Ishmael, just kidding, call me Teller. 

We dream of what we will be when we grow-up. For some it is a fireman, a lion tamer, or a vampire hunter. You dream of being a hero, of whips, of gold lapels and brass buttons, and of ridding the world of monsters. You don’t dream of doing dishes for twelve guys, or of losing body parts to cranky loins, or the fact there is little sleep for the hunter.


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## Kit (Jan 23, 2013)

Losing body parts to cranky LOINS?    Is that a misspelling? If not, I'm torn between wanting to know what that means and *not* wanting to know.


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## Mari (Jan 23, 2013)

Yah, I misspelled. Dyslexia working its Mojo on me again.


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## Stinnpack (Jan 30, 2013)

_When Mirrina awoke she was laying upon a cold stone flood. She was covered in a thin black veil and was surrounded by a gathering of individuals, hooded and cloaked in robes the color of freshly spilt blood. The only light in the room was cast by the circle of candles spaced evenly around her. _

This is the opening paragraph to the book I'm currently working on.


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## T.Allen.Smith (Jan 30, 2013)

Stinnpack said:


> When Mirrina awoke she was laying upon a cold stone flood. She was covered in a thin black veil and was surrounded by a gathering of individuals, hooded and cloaked in robes the color of freshly spilt blood. The only light in the room was cast by the circle of candles spaced evenly around her.
> 
> This is the opening paragraph to the book I'm currently working on.



There are too many "was" words in this excerpt. The writing is far too passive... Change it to stronger, active writing. Also, the pattern or cadence of the passage is identical from sentence to sentence. That is partially due to the "was...was...was...was". This has an effect of predictability. It becomes like a monotone voice to the reader.


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## Jamber (Jan 30, 2013)

Ireth said:


> From an RP I hope to someday, maybe, novelize (note that this was written 3 years ago and does not indicate my current skill):
> 
> Conall breathed deeply of the warm May air as he crossed the grassy field swiftly on horseback, heading toward high stone walls of the city. He would be home soon... home to a hot meal and a warm embrace from his beloved wife. Heartened especially by that last thought, he dug his heels into the horse's flanks, goading it on faster.



Lovely! It's active yet descriptive, full of feeling and fluid to read.

Just one thing, I'm not sure you need 'goading it on faster'.

cheers
Jennie


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## Stinnpack (Jan 30, 2013)

*Revision*



T.Allen.Smith said:


> There are too many "was" words in this excerpt. The writing is far too passive... Change it to stronger, active writing. Also, the pattern or cadence of the passage is identical from sentence to sentence. That is partially due to the "was...was...was...was". This has an effect of predictability. It becomes like a monotone voice to the reader.



Thanks for the tip. I went back through my first chapter and did some much needed revision. I made a few changes that should keep the flow of the story more even and enticing. 


_When Mirrina awoke she found herself lying upon a cold stone floor. Her naked form had been covered in a thin black veil and surrounding her stood a gathering of individuals, hooded and cloaked in robes the color of freshly split blood. The only light in the room, cast by the circle of candles spaced evenly around her, created shadows that hid the faces of each chanting figure. _

How does that look?


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## T.Allen.Smith (Jan 30, 2013)

Stinnpack said:


> Thanks for the tip. I went back through my first chapter and did some much needed revision. I made a few changes that should keep the flow of the story more even and enticing.
> 
> When Mirrina awoke she found herself lying upon a cold stone floor. Her naked form had been covered in a thin black veil and surrounding her stood a gathering of individuals, hooded and cloaked in robes the color of freshly split blood. The only light in the room, cast by the circle of candles spaced evenly around her, created shadows that hid the faces of each chanting figure.
> 
> How does that look?



Much better for cadence. However, you really want to eliminate passive writing. Phrases like, "had been covered" are passive. You really need to use active voice if you want to engage readers. 

If you do a search on these forums for active vs passive voice, you should find a lot of information on the topic.


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## PlotHolio (Jan 31, 2013)

Since T.Allen.Smith didn't post a paragraph of his own, I'll just post one of mine and hope it doesn't lead to flipped tables.

_Ai sat alone and gazed absently up at the Spire, watching as the the anti-matter thrashed between its coupling towers. It was like black lightning, streaking through the air in jagged arcs. The sound of thunder drifted thousands of feet down to the dirty concrete streets of the Spiretown slums as the very air was ripped asunder._


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## T.Allen.Smith (Jan 31, 2013)

Sorry I didn't get around to it quickly enough. Feel free to skip this excerpt if need be. however, I've included a beginning passage from a second chapter of a particular POV.

     The crash of the mace on his abdomen dropped him to his knees. Unable to breathe, he held his mouth open wide, gasping for air. Badrick rolled over onto his back. The outline of the broad, stocky man moving to stand over him, blocked out the blinding sun.
     "Now you're dead boy."
     Badrick wanted to scream back at the man. He wanted to stand up and fight. He wanted to breathe. Instead, he lay there, flattened out like a beached fish sucking for breath that wouldn't come. He felt powerless.


P.S.. In all honesty I didn't read the full requirements of this exercise before I posted critique.


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## T.Allen.Smith (Jan 31, 2013)

PlotHolio said:


> Since T.Allen.Smith didn't post a paragraph of his own, I'll just post one of mine and hope it doesn't lead to flipped tables.
> 
> Ai sat alone and gazed absently up at the Spire, watching as the the anti-matter thrashed between its coupling towers. It was like black lightning, streaking through the air in jagged arcs. The sound of thunder drifted thousands of feet down to the dirty concrete streets of the Spiretown slums as the very air was ripped asunder.



One point in an otherwise nice bit of writing. Instead of "It was like black lightning..." Maybe use "Like black lightning, it streaked through the air in jagged arcs". Gets rid of the weak verb "was" and brings the reader into the present more effectively.


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## PlotHolio (Jan 31, 2013)

T.Allen.Smith said:


> One point in an otherwise nice bit of writing. Instead of "It was like black lightning..." Maybe use "Like black lightning, it streaked through the air in jagged arcs". Gets rid of the weak verb "was" and brings the reader into the present more effectively.



Good idea. Thanks. I wrote this several years ago, so I'm surprised it's not complete drivel.


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## Jamber (Feb 3, 2013)

My apologies -- I made the same mistake as T. Allen Smith, so will try to rectify it here.


T.Allen.Smith said:


> The crash of the mace on his abdomen dropped him to his knees. Unable to breathe, he held his mouth open wide, gasping for air. Badrick rolled over onto his back. The outline of the broad, stocky man moving to stand over him, blocked out the blinding sun.
> "Now you're dead boy."
> Badrick wanted to scream back at the man. He wanted to stand up and fight. He wanted to breathe. Instead, he lay there, flattened out like a beached fish sucking for breath that wouldn't come. He felt powerless.



1. Liked it.
2. Would keep reading.
3. Because it's very economically written, precise, yet full of tension. Characterisation is simple but effective. I greatly enjoyed the bleakness of: 'Now you're dead boy.' (I know a reversal is coming...)
My only question is whether you need 'He felt powerless'?

best wishes
Jennie


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## Jamber (Feb 3, 2013)

First para, total first draft -- a twin world story.

NB A 'soak' is a small wet area, often fed by a spring. Not sure if I should change it but I wanted the feel of a forgotten bit of pasture.

On the day of lightning, Marie lay in a grass bowl rimmed by kohl-dark trees, her long limbs fanned out. Her brother’s bicycle had already swept past on the treeline road calling her name. She didn’t care. Her attention clung to the sky where a black speck hovered. Clouds drifted toward it in slow, thin spirals. She closed her eyes and opened them to check that the spiral was really tightening—it was. Gleefully she kicked her school shoes off. One went straight up in the air and came down in a cow-pat while the other sailed into the soak. She felt like the queen of discovery, a new Gallileo, only she'd never tell anyone.


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## Renos (Feb 3, 2013)

Jamber said:


> First para, total first draft -- a twin world story.
> 
> NB A 'soak' is a small wet area, often fed by a spring. Not sure if I should change it but I wanted the feel of a forgotten bit of pasture.
> 
> On the day of lightning, Marie lay in a grass bowl rimmed by kohl-dark trees, her long limbs fanned out. Her brother’s bicycle had already swept past on the treeline road calling her name. She didn’t care. Her attention clung to the sky where a black speck hovered. Clouds drifted toward it in slow, thin spirals. She closed her eyes and opened them to check that the spiral was really tightening–it was. Gleefully she kicked her school shoes off. One went straight up in the air and came down in a cow-pat while the other sailed into the soak. She felt like the queen of discovery, a new Gallileo, only she'd never tell anyone.



Very nice threat
1. Liked the use of the language
2. Would have to keep reading because at the moment I don't have a clue where you are going with this lightning 
3. Questions were raised about the little girl, why wouldn't she say anything about it? Is she different than other kids? I guess I 'll have to read further 

Just a draft from me too

_1909 AD Venetia_​

“It was a gloomy day and I was sitting in the corner of a scary place called “The Orphanage”. I hated that place. Every morning they made us eat a horrible soup with disgusting vegetables, that if I recall correctly they were calling them onions and mushrooms. After that horrible breakfast we were forced to get out and sell pieces of paper called newspapers that strangely no one would bother to buy. I was five at that time I think. The leader of that place told me my mother was a very interesting lady from a distant land called Russia, but he didn’t have any information on which my father was. Never saw my mother. It was that gloomy day sitting in that dark corner imagining the face of my mother, that I met Prometheus”


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