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Feedback would be appreciated on first draft.

  • 03-01-2020 9:29pm
    #1
    Registered Users Posts: 9


    Hi there I would appreciate some feedback on the opening of a novel I am currently writing. In particular I would like to hear if you enjoy my style of writing. Thank you.






    He reached under his bed, grasping frantically in the darkness until his grip recognised the blunt curved outline of the double-barrelled shotgun. He held it in both hands and postured up. It felt heavy, the metal cold and foreign to his touch. Last time he had picked it up he had placed the barrel under his chin and waited for the end. But he didn’t pull the trigger and the end was cruelly postponed.

    It was heavier then he remembered, and it sat awkwardly in his grip. He recalled buying it. Marie and himself had travelled to Dublin in his old teal Ford Escort. The make and model his choice, the colour hers. They had argued for months about the gun. Marie thought it was unnecessary and would do no good. She had scoffed at his protestations about self-defence and protecting the land and called him a fool. A fool who thought he was a cowboy in some sort of deranged Western set in Galway she had said.

    The dispute had resolved itself in the usual fashion that fights between them did- Warren remained fiercely stubborn and Marie relented, if not to only make sure he didn't lose the run of himself completely. And so she had accompanied him on the two hour trip to Dublin, singing along to anti-violence records, making final, desperate pleas that Warren reconsider. On the way back, she didn't say a word but stared out the window, brow furrowed.

    He sat incredibly still and tried to quell the beating of his heart which was concealing the silence. He slowly moved towards the bedroom door, manoeuvring his large frame around several stacks of newspapers, carefully avoiding the many obstacles strewn across the floor that may alert his presence. He paused, his palm sweaty on the brass doorknob.

    Silence.

    And then he heard it again. In the yard. The distinctive sound of copper being dragged along the ground. He tightened his hold on the gun in one hand and willed himself to move. He caught sight of the outline of his reflection protruding from a body length mirror in the corner of the room. His once broad frame had sunken into itself, his skeleton seemingly the last remaining bodily structure to valiantly fight against the inevitable decay. The gun dwarfed him, a foreign object in the hands of a tattered mannequin.

    He listened intently once more, partly to confirm an intruder and partly to postpone confronting whoever was in his house. He heard an undeniable ‘thack’ of a chair falling over in the kitchen and Warren could no longer deny his home was being invaded. One of the advantages of living in a disorganised collection of miscellaneous items that other other people would call ‘junk’ was that only Warren knew how to navigate each room, especially at night, without bumping into an old transistor or knocking over a five foot high pile of obscure Russian literature.

    Warren gave it another ten seconds as if in hope that he may wake up any moment and the sanctity of the home he had created was not under attack. He could now hear a low murmuring being emitted from the kitchen, an insidious bassline that took his dread and fear and amplified them, laying bare his vulnerability as he stood there in his vest and underwear. He remained completely motionless for a second and then sprang forward, ripping the doorknob and charged into the hallway. The adrenaline was pumping now and the slabs of cement that had caused him to stick to his bedroom floor were now his executors, propelling him forward.

    He stopped at the kitchen door. A figure brandished a flashlight in his direction, the illumination of his weary frame eviscerating the cloak of darkness he had worn so comfortably.
    There was a stunned silence between the two, Warren wielding his shotgun as he tried to control his tremble, the stranger, the intruder, the thief pointing the flashlight back as if he knew the truth, that the scrutiny the light cast on Warren was innumerably times more unbearable then the thought of death by two swift slugs in the head.

    Warren wasn’t sure how long they both stood there before he finally blurted
    ‘What are you doing?’

    The figure didn’t reply immediately but instead began to back away slowly.
    ‘T-T-ake it easy Mr., No need for the gun.’

    Warren couldn’t tell as the flashlight was blinding him, obscuring his vision so that he could only squint and speculate as the black mass shifted away from him. Keeping the barrel firmly pointed at the intruder John shuffled his feet slowly, towards the wall, poking with his elbow until he felt the switch and the room was filled with a low light, a sort of greyish yellow that coloured everything in the room, as if the space itself had contracted a terminal bout of jaundice and was in it’s final days.

    ‘Switch that off’ John gestured with the butt of the gun towards the flashlight who’s glow was bravely shining, drowning in dusty light that had invaded the room.

    ‘Who are you and what the **** are you doing in my house’

    The figure before him was finally revealed, in as much a black balaclava with two eye holes and a mouth shaped opening torn out can reveal. It wore all black, whatever it was and was clutching a switchblade in their left hand.

    ‘Drop the knife.’

    The figure, again motionless for a second, reached out deliberately and placed the blade on the table resuming his standing position without a word.

    Time passed.

    ‘Now what?’ The intruder broke the silence after what seemed like an age. It was a high pitched voice, a young man if he had to guess.
    Warren who had only realised they had been standing there frozen for quite some time, paused. What was he to do now? He knew the sensible option was to call the authorities, explain the situation and the have this person who had broken into his house taken away. He should press charges and the community would be a safer place without the villain before him roaming, terrorising the good citizens of Ardagh.
    But he hesitated. Warren was not fond of the guards nor they of him. The 94’ business coupled with several occasions where he had been thrown in a cell for the night having been drinking all day in Keary's led to a mutual distrust. No, the guards wouldn't do.
    Warren did not know what came next so instead blurted out

    ‘Take off the mask’

    ‘Are you going to call the guards? Please Mr, I haven’t taken anything, I've made a mistake and I'm sorry for it. Let me go and I swear on my family that I wont ever come near this place again.’

    John repeated his command, this time in a firmer tone.
    The intruder paused for a while, his eyes searching Johns face for an indication of what he planned to do.

    The intruder slowly slipped his thumbs under the knitted line on his neck, pulling the balaclava upwards. It revealed portions of his face gradually, red lines appearing where the material had been tight on his skin.

    John recoiled slightly. There stood in front of him was a boy of no more than 16. Thin faced he was handsome except for large dark circles under his eyes. He wore an expression that John couldn’t decipher- some place between fear and defiance.

    W-- What the **** is going on? W-What age are you? What is this? John could barely get the words out in shock. Any fear had left him now, replaced by bewilderment, the unknown now known and that known being a child.


Comments

  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    Have just noticed I mistakenly write John for Warren in parts. They are the same person, ignore please!


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 1,429 ✭✭✭Sheridan81


    It's not bad. Six out of ten. As for your style of writing, well it sounds like most 'thriller' writers that a casual reader might enjoy. I don't read thriller books anymore.


  • Registered Users Posts: 146 ✭✭km85264


    You have problems with pacing. The man is terrified, his heart is thudding away, he's not going to be thinking about the trip to Dublin or listening intently. Use short sentences. Get him to the face to face point fast. You can fill in descriptions about body frames and reminiscences of Marie later.
    Having said that, there's a lot of promise in your writing and fixing a first draft is something every writer has to face, so best thing is keep going.
    Minor things: calling somebody mister is a generic term like mate, should not be abbreviated to Mr. Also drop the T-t-take and W-wait bits, they don't look right.
    Kieran


  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    km85264 wrote: »
    You have problems with pacing. The man is terrified, his heart is thudding away, he's not going to be thinking about the trip to Dublin or listening intently. Use short sentences. Get him to the face to face point fast. You can fill in descriptions about body frames and reminiscences of Marie later.
    Having said that, there's a lot of promise in your writing and fixing a first draft is something every writer has to face, so best thing is keep going.
    Minor things: calling somebody mister is a generic term like mate, should not be abbreviated to Mr. Also drop the T-t-take and W-wait bits, they don't look right.
    Kieran

    Thank you so much for the feedback!

    Your advice regarding the pacing is very insightful. I thought something similar myself. I think I will restructure the opening so that he is about to commit suicide, reminiscing on his life when he is interrupted by the intruder. Then have it escalate quickly from there.

    How did you find my use of language? I know sometimes I have a tendency to use overly-flowery prose so I am trying to be more efficient with the words I use.

    Thanks again! :)


  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    Sheridan81 wrote: »
    It's not bad. Six out of ten. As for your style of writing, well it sounds like most 'thriller' writers that a casual reader might enjoy. I don't read thriller books anymore.

    I don;t tend to read thrillers either so interested in your comment.
    Thank you for your feedback!


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  • Registered Users Posts: 146 ✭✭km85264


    Overall the language is very well balanced. That's not to say a professional editor wouldn't pull some of those phrases apart, e.g. "The adrenaline was pumping now and the slabs of cement that had caused him to stick to his bedroom floor were now his executors, propelling him forward." But that's not something to worry about at this point. Get the pacing right, get the readers' interest, and keep writing.
    Be careful of the suicide/reminisce thing; you need to get your readers' sympathy before they'll take an interest in the reminiscence. Keep it as action focussed as you can for the opening section, hold the reminiscences for later.


  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    Any other posters want to give feedback? It would be much appreciated.


  • Registered Users Posts: 451 ✭✭makeandcreate


    Hi - I felt parts of it really flowed well - the first bit was heavy and too prosiac for me - the reminiscing nice reading but probably in the wrong place, the bit about his hoarding was well described but the following rationale and sanctity bit simply unnecessary for me - home is always sacred.

    The low murmering made me assume more than one person present - even though I'm prone to talking to myself I'm not sure low murmering would be present at my first burglary attempt.

    ‘Switch that off’ John gestured with the butt of the gun towards the flashlight who’s glow was bravely shining, drowning in dusty light that had invaded the room.

    This is too flowery for me and not words evoked by the actual scene, more sort of the words of someone elses writing you admire and you're attempting to condense.

    This bit - Now what?’ The intruder broke the silence after what seemed like an age. It was a high pitched voice, a young man if he had to guess.
    Warren who had only realised they had been standing there frozen for quite some time, paused. What was he to do now? He knew the sensible option was to call the authorities, explain the situation and the have this person who had broken into his house taken away. He should press charges and the community would be a safer place without the villain before him roaming, terrorising the good citizens of Ardagh.
    But he hesitated. Warren was not fond of the guards nor they of him. The 94’ business coupled with several occasions where he had been thrown in a cell for the night having been drinking all day in Keary's led to a mutual distrust. No, the guards wouldn't do.
    Warren did not know what came next so instead blurted out -

    Needs have the words to convey the same information without the distraction, so needs condensing or make references before or after to the relevant bits and release the info that way. It's clunky imo.

    Recoiling at the sight of a boy? Maybe wrong word? It's his bodily reaction you are describing not his thought process. If I was a big framed man in my underwear, in my own home with a loaded gun - I think I'd relax, gulp, fart in relief ....

    Like others said - the pace is a problem - after several reads I am not invested in this character or the intruder and really I should want to know more.

    I think if the writing is condensed but then stretched into short chapters there is something there.


  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    Hi - I felt parts of it really flowed well - the first bit was heavy and too prosiac for me - the reminiscing nice reading but probably in the wrong place, the bit about his hoarding was well described but the following rationale and sanctity bit simply unnecessary for me - home is always sacred.

    The low murmering made me assume more than one person present - even though I'm prone to talking to myself I'm not sure low murmering would be present at my first burglary attempt.

    ‘Switch that off’ John gestured with the butt of the gun towards the flashlight who’s glow was bravely shining, drowning in dusty light that had invaded the room.

    This is too flowery for me and not words evoked by the actual scene, more sort of the words of someone elses writing you admire and you're attempting to condense.

    This bit - Now what?’ The intruder broke the silence after what seemed like an age. It was a high pitched voice, a young man if he had to guess.
    Warren who had only realised they had been standing there frozen for quite some time, paused. What was he to do now? He knew the sensible option was to call the authorities, explain the situation and the have this person who had broken into his house taken away. He should press charges and the community would be a safer place without the villain before him roaming, terrorising the good citizens of Ardagh.
    But he hesitated. Warren was not fond of the guards nor they of him. The 94’ business coupled with several occasions where he had been thrown in a cell for the night having been drinking all day in Keary's led to a mutual distrust. No, the guards wouldn't do.
    Warren did not know what came next so instead blurted out -

    Needs have the words to convey the same information without the distraction, so needs condensing or make references before or after to the relevant bits and release the info that way. It's clunky imo.

    Recoiling at the sight of a boy? Maybe wrong word? It's his bodily reaction you are describing not his thought process. If I was a big framed man in my underwear, in my own home with a loaded gun - I think I'd relax, gulp, fart in relief ....

    Like others said - the pace is a problem - after several reads I am not invested in this character or the intruder and really I should want to know more.

    I think if the writing is condensed but then stretched into short chapters there is something there.

    Hi that's great feedback, thank you!

    It's funny that the passage you picked out was one I wasn't that happy with myself.

    I'm in the midst of a rewrite, so will check back here when I do and seek your feedback once more, if you don't mind of course.

    Thanks again!


  • Registered Users Posts: 9 DiscountJoyce


    Anyone else want to have a read? Feedback appreciated


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  • Registered Users Posts: 15,176 ✭✭✭✭ILoveYourVibes


    Hmm don't set it in Dublin.

    You won't make a penny with an Irish publisher ...set it in the UK maybe?

    Yes very good i like it.

    You should start submitting it.

    Its more about a story ..than a style of writing.
    The dispute had resolved itself in the usual fashion that fights between them did- Warren remained fiercely stubborn and Marie relented, if not to only make sure he didn't lose the run of himself completely. And so she had accompanied him on the two hour trip to Dublin, singing along to anti-violence records, making final, desperate pleas that Warren reconsider. On the way back, she didn't say a word but stared out the window, brow furrowed.

    I like this its an interesting double vision of a character ....from the outside ...vrs inside


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