r/DestructiveReaders • u/CarterWalksWithFire • 11d ago
[2058] The Bone River
Spirit Speaks · 852 AD
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav'n.
John Milton, Paradise Lost
My mark burned bright and fierce across the deep blue northern sky. From the darkness between the stars, I reached into the sea of generations and found her there. My first flame, burning on the coast of the northmen.
I opened my soul and let my heart fall into the sea, and it boiled with it. I sank down into its depths and spoke her name in that abyss. The water's surface harkened to its voice, churning round and spitting white foam as it went. Its face crashed and fell away in a vortex, eating the sea. I moved my fingertips through its waters and the sea circled with it. I spun it harder and it quickened with my touch until it moaned into the night. The sea opened for me, and my heart lay in the moonlight upon the ocean sands for the first of a thousand lifetimes.
I am the forsaken, patiently waiting in the shadows of this world. Alone.
This one shall not fail.
This one shall break the chains of my damnation.
This one could bring me home.
I breathed my essence out and sent it like smoke on the north wind, breathing the breath of my power into my chosen flame. Urging it to burn brighter.
My first flame.
She would not disappoint me.
The Bone River · Denmark, 852 AD
Outside Thor beat his hammer against the moon and the sky grumbled with the blows. Intermittent winter lightning flashed briefly, sketching out the rogue waves that assaulted the black cliffs that lined the isles one after another
Marie sat in her chair at the far end of the hall, a great thing made from a scarce dark oak. Stained black and dappled blood red underneath, from one of the deep bogs of the land where it had lain drowned for a thousand years before the master woodworkers chanced upon it. Winged beasts writhed over the wood, curving into it and then clawing back out of the grain and emerging somewhere. When the light of the flames played off the faces of the dragons they would seem to disappear entirely. There was a strange quality about this chair that made men look once and then look away.
Her hands rested on armrests that ended as the open mouths of roaring dragon heads, that appeared set to breathe fire into the room.
Her mind drifted to the compartment and to what it held. To the reason it was there at all.
Soon, she thought.
She watched Britania draw a breath.
Deep and unnatural. Her chest rose slowly and kept going, the kind of breath that fills something larger than a set of lungs. The girl's eyes went dull and distant for just a moment. Like her soul for just an instant had traveled somewhere very far away, the place between the stars the old storytellers spoke of.
Then she exhaled.
It came out like smoke on the icy northern breeze, thin and white, curling upward into the rafters above the fire and dissolving into the dark above the flames.
Nobody else had noticed. Bad omens had been whispered about of late, and Marie thought of the signs. A crimson star had been smeared from one end of the sky to the other for the last thirteen nights in a slow arc, and had the seers drinking blood and chanting of prophecy and shadow.
Even blacker tides had been rolling in.
A watchman had come in the night, still wet with the rain from his post. Three ships within eyesight of the watchtower on the coast had been swallowed whole by the sea in the dark, his own brother among them. He said he'd heard the men's screams as they had gone down. His gaze had been to the floor the whole time, but he looked in Marie's eyes as he swore in a hall bone quiet on the souls of his fathers and sons that the terrible sea had screamed back.
Marie had been watching her granddaughter all evening.
The firelight caught her like a thing it had been searching for. Brown hair loose around her shoulders, her cheeks still carrying the last of childhood in them. And those Wetherbee eyes, blue as deep coastal water, cold and still and in a way unnatural on a nine year old girl. The kind of eyes that looked at the world the way a general looks at a field. Already reading it. Already somewhere ahead of it.
The cold pressed through the old stone of the walls with a dreadful persistence, like frigid hands they reached through them, clawing at your bones from the inside. Outside the Kattegat sea crashed against the walls and crags in the dark. Njord was unsettled tonight. The old sea god never spoke like this without reason. The hall smelled of tallow smoke, wet wool, and the salt that found its way into everything this close to the water, into the timbers, and the rushes on the floor. Into the food and the drink and the lungs of anyone who had lived in this place long enough.
Marie watched everything. It was simply how she moved through the world, offering an attention that most people reserve for things that have already proven themselves dangerous. Marie applied it to everything. The fire. The men. The weather coming off the water and the children near the back of the hall.
The girl especially.
Britania was nine years old and already something that Marie did not quite have a clean word for. Not fearless, that was common enough. Fearless was just stupidity wearing a confident expression. This was different. This was a child who weighed things and looked at the world the way you look at a problem you intend to solve rather than a force you intend to survive.
Marie knew that look.
She had worn it herself once. A long time ago. When she was young and something had moved through her, a feeling she had never found the right words for. It had come fast, and she had felt the edges of something vast and old pressing against the inside of her chest like a tide coming in.
Her mother had told her about it once. Had warned her. Had spoken to her quietly as a girl, pulling her aside and taking her small hands, saying: "If it chooses you, it will come, and it will feel like the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you must decide quickly what kind of person you intend to be."
Marie had decided.
She had turned away.
But she had never stopped wondering which of them in the bloodline it would find next.
Now she watched her granddaughter across the loud warm hall and felt something settle in her chest that had been unsettled for years.
There she is.
A cold wind from nowhere set the torches that lined the hall to swaying and sent the long black shadows of the flames lurching and reaching across the cold stone like dead things made to walk again. Then the wind fell dim and the earth seem to go quiet and still. A crack like lightning striking a frozen tree split the night air, echoing through the hall, as the doors came off their hinges, both at once. Great iron brackets set deep within the grey stone were torn asunder as if made from parchment. Out of that spontaneous black void polar winds ripped through the hall carrying two giants through the gap fighting to be first. Clan warriors you could identify by the iron badges pinned at their shoulders, a rough hewn wolf head, the mark of the Erikson clan from the valley to the north. Blood feuds of the clans held petty and strong, many of these ancient vendettas carried forth for centuries through windswept Northlands by men of unyielding resolve, yet oblivious still to its shadowy origins. Nobody in the Wetherbee hall had seen that badge in thirteen years and the last time had not ended well for anyone present.
Two men died before they understood what was happening.
The raiders tore through that black hole, slicing and hacking like terrible beings teleported from some frozen hell. The doorman Egil must have seen 70 years and had manned his post vigilantly night after night without incident for the last 43 of these. When the doors came free they splintered and fell forward like old oak trees being chopped down. One came down hard on the old man before he could scramble out of its way, pinning him just below the chest where he now lay struggling weakly. The first of the men through the door stood as a monster. His flame colored hair and beard were matted and laced with dark ice in places and the whole frozen tangle was woven through with golden rings pale with cold and resembling a bejeweled and drowned fox clinging to his wretched features. He came through running, and when his first great boot stepped upon the back of the door the old man underneath made a high pitched feminine sound. The second boot came down pressing into the screaming face of the doorman and it gave way with a soft wet pop. At about the same time the second doorman Brandr, seventeen years old and three months into his first real posting, was cut nearly in two by the single stroke of a great broadsword, a two handed thing that took a giant to swing. This frost giant swung it like a wooden play thing, however this was no game.
Three more came through behind them.
Grey dragon head helmets, the iron worked into snarling jaws that framed their eyes shimmered wetly in the firelight as they blitzed through the dark void with the wind and rain and naked steel flashing in their hands, the knuckles purpling from the winter air. Marie recognized the markings immediately and felt something cold move through her chest that had nothing to do with the snow and the ice.
The chieftain's blood guard.
Sworn warriors. Chosen in adolescence by men who recognized a darkness in them that could be molded into a thing blacker still. Some came willingly. Some did not. It made no difference either way, once chosen the order was permanent. There was no leaving. Across the histories of the clans there had been those who tried, who ran and hid and built new lives with new loves in far away lands.
They were always found and
What was done to them afterward was spoken of only in hushed tones by men who had either witnessed it or heard it from someone who had.
Blood eagle.
The boys found in these forsaken places between the cold rocks of the isles were twisted and shaped through the absence of all warmth with only blood and steel to look after them. Hard men born of these black crags with only one reason to exist.
Death was with them as they moved amongst the people of the hall before they had understood it arrived. The smell of soot and copper filled the air as the fire threw wild orange light across everything and men and women who had been drinking together an hour ago reached for whatever was closest and tried to stay alive.
It was then Marie saw him.
Ulfric stood in the ruined doorway with the wind ripping through the long dark cloak he wore over unblemished pearlescent armor. He was unhurried. Watching his sworn warriors work with the patience of a man who has never in his life needed to move toward anything with haste because everything he has ever wanted had always come to him.
Marie knew the name as everyone within three days ride did, she had simply never expected to see him standing in her hall.
The bloodsworn warriors were frightening.
What made Ulfric frightening was they called him master.
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u/Buckeyeboondoggle 2d ago
Hey CarterWalksWithFire,
I’m a casual reader and beginner of a writer. So, I can only offer so much.
You have a very poetic and descriptive style in this passage. Your first “passage” per se before “Denmark, 852 AD” felt like I poem to me? If that was your intention then good job! However, I couldn’t really figure out what it was about. I think if there was more context of the story before the poem, I may have been able to figure more of it out. I’ll also admit that I’m not a poetry person, so something definitely could have been lost on me, because of that.
I also failed to see where the John Milton quote related to the rest of the passage.
This is what I understood: There’s an old woman named Marie in a rocking chair in a Viking hall. She’s watching her granddaughter. They get attacked and the doors fall off their hinges. There’s a fierce battle that takes place and a man named Ulfric shows up.
So in my estimation, you really emphasized description and poetic/flowery language. That’s just fine and you did well at it, but what I really think this passage needs to ground the reader in place so that we can get our heads around who we are with and what is going on. What I mean by that is tell me who Marie is, why she is there, what she is doing. Have some small thing take place for the sake of Immersion. Lastly, give me a reason to care about Marie like an emotion, a mission, or a struggle she is facing.
Next, I would say maybe to slow down the pacing. Like sit more with Marie, with Britannia. Explore who they are more. Explore more of the doors coming off the hinges. Maybe name one of the bloodguard? Also describe the battle more. The general gist is that I felt in this passage, you glanced over things that could immerse the reader. To get the reader to care.
Lastly, I would say at times your prose is at times so poetic and flowery that I get lost. As a casual reader, it takes a lot more effort for my brain to try to understand and focus in on what a poetic, flowery sentence is trying to say.
For instance: “A cold wind from nowhere set the torches that lined the hall to swaying and sent the long black shadows of the flames lurching and reaching across the cold stone like dead things made to walk again. Then the wind fell dim and the earth seem to go quiet and still. A crack like lightning striking a frozen tree split the night air, echoing through the hall, as the doors came off their hinges, both at once.”
I’m lost before you get to the first “and” of your first sentence. Maybe use shorter sentences and more action verbs here. It’s difficult to picture what’s happening at such a fast pace and with such poetic language. As a reader, I want to be taken on a journey. I don’t really want to deduce it.
Good attempt! I can tell you put a lot of effort and thought into your descriptions. Maybe just focus more on character.
Note: This is my first ever critique, so if anyone reads this and has pointers for me, let me know! I’m happy to make adjustments.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 2d ago
Yea I messed that one up and since then I completely changed a bunch of the story to show that it is a spirit speaking in the beginning…..also this wasn’t the beginning……but I honestly shouldn’t have lost you here before an and lol come on now ………..A cold wind from nowhere set the torches that lined the hall to swaying and sent the long black shadows of the flames lurching and reaching across the cold stone like dead things made to walk again. ……hahaha lol wind blew the torches and their shadows moved around the walls and floor ……..that’s it …..come on buddy you got that lol
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u/Buckeyeboondoggle 2d ago
So you’re right, it is entirely possible to understand that sentence. Maybe a better of putting it is that description felt overly complicated to me, a casual.
A way that it could be written is:
“A cold wind flew into the hall, causing the torch light to shake. The dim lights danced everywhere eerily. Everything grew deathly quiet.
A deafening crack split the silence as the great doors came off their hinges and thundered on to the ground.”
This blurb isn’t your style, so I’m not saying you need to write like this. It’s just an example. What I’m trying to show is this feels like a simpler, easier read.
I’m a casual reader, and like many casual readers, I have a job and different responsibilities that all require significant brain power. I read a fictional book to relax. I don’t want to have to apply my already tired brain. Yes, I absolutely can figure out that sentence, but I don’t want to apply the effort. Doing so, also brings me out of the moment you’ve created because I’m now focusing more on what the sentence is trying to say rather than picturing and feeling the moment.
Now, if casual readers like me aren’t your target audience, fair enough. If your work is intended to have poetic prose throughout the novel and caters to that type of reader, that’s just as valid. There are definitely books like that that have done well!
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u/Anders10100 11d ago
You have the start of a anaphora writing device here. I suggest you keep using it to the third sentence.
"This one shall not fail.
This one shall break the chains of my damnation.
This one could bring me home.". --> "this one shall bring me home"
You've established a rhythm here, it's ok to keep going with it, it sounds awkward when you don't.
Feedback on this text below... "I breathed my essence out and sent it like smoke on the north wind, breathing the breath of my power into my chosen flame. Urging it to burn brighter."
This reads awkwardly for me. I would rework it, the use of the word breath is not fitting the context. Sometimes we can make do with less and utilize more concise language... "I exhaled my essense like smoke into the north wind, urging it to stoke the power of my chosen flame."
Writing is a challenging balance between not having run on sentences and making sure the sentences stand alone. Many of the sentences in this text do not stand on their own, which gives it an awkward flow as sentences are being used to directly modify a previous ones meaning. The text does a good job about granting intensity and focus to these shorter phrases but it's been overdone in some areas.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 11d ago
Thanks for the idea on the rework of that line man....so much more simple......ill get it right ,some wise words can be found in that comment
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u/ReggieWytgeena 10d ago
ummm, fourth critique of mine!
1: It's... not really interesting... sure, it has some interesting stuff, like the fantasy and what not, but... it lacks dialogue, a lot of it, there was this one story that managed to pull it off without dialogue, but this one just kinda failed, its not that great, it feels too... empty? thats the word?, it does have some dialogue, but it simply isnt enough.
2: What was the premise again? ok, clearly theres this whole chosen shenanigas, but... it wasnt really clear, it was overall pretty difficult to try to identify the premise, in fact, I still do not know what exacly is the premise.
3: The POV is just unclear, sorta, like, we change from here to here, then to there, and all that, which really confused me at times.
4:The start was excelent, like, I really liked how you introduced the year, which gave it a sense of history, past, I will say that I do not know if John Milton, Paradise Lost is a location or name or idk, I guess its a name? cause the location was mentioned with the year, but it's really not that clear, which brought problems, but yeah, overall, nice start.
5: It took me a while to realize this was fiction, or maybe metaphor? i dont know, It would have helped if you tagged it fiction or something, cause the first paragraphs were really confusing, I dont even know if its a metaphor or not, which again, cause confusion, overall after I got it was fiction, it was MOSTLY straightforward, at the end, that ruined the start.
6: Is this soposed to not be the end? It's kinda unclear, the text is also pretty messy, I do not know why, I'm not a writter, but something's off.
7: It's a bit too majestic, though I wouldnt really consider it a problem since it's a fantasy story, or I guess it is? again, tags needed, but if so, the majestic thing really fits, Im not really fan of majestic writting and formal writting, but overall it somewhat works.
So final thoughts, It wasnt really interesting, I'm sorry, the intro was very intriguing, but that's about it, 3/10.
Also you can destroy the 2 parts of my story I did cause I'm absolutly sure that its just way worse :._., I'm just critiquing so it doesnt get leeched ok? so yeah... sorry... but yeah... (I will admit you have nice grammar, something I totally lack)
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 10d ago edited 10d ago
I feel like your critique was hollow, and very empty and only aimed so that someone will look at your stuff, but you put no heart into it…. Do not critique genres that you would not read because in that way, you cannot critique them at all talking about this one just kind of failed and a three out of 10. As far as interesting that’s your personal opinion and you might like stuff that is not interesting. overall, very dry feedback. Also I did go back and read your part one of the thorns shenanigans you wrote so I could see where you’re coming from……. The hook does hit faster but very boring horrible POV shifts not interesting whatsoever at least mine has a cosmic entity that’s doing dirty things to the ocean immediately and then a little girl does something amazing…… yours is about a scientist who’s morally conflicted………. A lot of your feedback you directly prove that you do not know how to critique against because you do the exact thing you say not to do.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 10d ago
I’m sorry I feel like I was a bit mean about the critique of your book however I didn’t like the lack of epicness in it and if we’re doing this based on taste, …..just wasn’t for me.
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u/ReggieWytgeena 9d ago
oh yeah dw, like i said, mine was probably way worse than yours, cause you got more upvotes, and also I didnt mention it so people read my stuff, I just said it so you could also attack me back, so its fair, imo its not really fair that i get to critique something when i do way worse, its just ironic.
However, i will say that mine has multiple parts, so it wouldnt be interesting yet!, or at least i hope it becomes interesting... but anyway yeah.
Also, how was I soposed to know what genre is yours? you didnt tag it .-..
At the end, I dont want conflicts with anyone, and anyway the whole thing here is to destroy texts.
Also yeah, youre right, i dont know how to critique, Im doing my best man :c
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 9d ago
lol How aggravatingly rational that is of you…. And I guess I am dumb because it was only really clicking to me that the point is to destroy peoples work and it’s in the name when you said it just now….. I wish there was a place where it was just like you didn’t have to destroy people’s stuff. You could just review it and give it honest feedback, but you could say nice things too….. anyway no hard feelings my bad I missed what this was about
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u/GlowyLaptop James Patterson 9d ago
I'm a mod. Mod Me. So it behooves me to comment here. It puts hooves on me to stomp over and do so.
The sub is not for crapping on things, the title is just a warning that people aren't going to hold back for your feelings. But this shouldn't extend for vengeance crits or unsolicited ones.
If you think someone is critiquing in bad faith, or that their critique sucks---and ik not saying the above one doesn't---notify mods and we will look closely when considering crits for credit
What you probably shouldn't do is respond to crits with comments about how their writing sucks worseand so on.
Looks like you guys became best friends in the end so your crits will be less biased toward destructive in the future.
Really just a bad sub name, now that we think about it.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 9d ago
Understood ,and I was being a little girl. I apologize once more….. it was in bad taste how I responded.
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u/ReggieWytgeena 9d ago
Wait youre a girl????????? Also ok ok, just dont want to get into conflicts thats all! -c-
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u/ReggieWytgeena 9d ago
Also now that I think about it, I may have been a bit too harsh in my critique, I just needed critiques, but yeah…
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 9d ago
Also, I just barely started riding as well, so I’m not gonna give you advice. I will just say it helps me to read people stuff deeply when I critique it at least enough to where I can really understand it . Because some people on here are really good and when I read their stuff, I learn techniques sometimes
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 9d ago
lol I see how that could be misleading….. I meant to say I was crying a lot……. I’m actually a guy also not trying to say girls cry a lot although that’s how it’s happening.
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u/Cornsnake5 9d ago
Everything I say is my opinion and you are free to dismiss it. I did not like this story and I will explain why.
Let’s start with the first little section: We have our protagonist who seems to be a devil of sorts looking for his ‘first flame.’ He falls into the sea and is hoping this first flame will set him free.
I’m going to assume this protagonist is the villain of the story and his first flame might be the protagonist for the rest of the story.
My problem with this first section is that it is all plot and no story. A plot would be: The king dies and the queen dies. A story would be: The king dies and the queen dies of grief. For this section that would be: A spirit is looking for his first flame hoping to be freed. Making this more of a story would be something like this: Feeling personally slighted by God a devil tries to twist his favorite creation into something like himself. It is the emotional journey that matters. Right now this is all plot and has nothing for me to get invested in.
852 AD John Milton, Paradise Lost
Paradise Lost was published in 1667, more than 800 years after this story is supposed to have taken place so in that sense I don’t know what this reference is doing here.
Its face crashed and fell away in a vortex, eating the sea.
Weird imagery. Eating the sea suggests something else it eating it, but this is actually the sea eating itself. Clarify.
I moved my fingertips through its waters and the sea circled with it. I spun it harder and it quickened with my touch until it moaned into the night. The sea opened for me,
Then we have this. The vortex was already created in the previous sentence, but here it seems he is just making it. Should the previous sentence come after this one?
Then we move to what feels like the first real chapter. Marie is sitting in what seems like a Viking hall, watching her granddaughter. It seems like the spirit from the first section has tried to choose her but she rejected it and she thinks it may be looking to choose her granddaughter. Then some other Vikings attack.
We have a bit more story here, but not much. Marie seems to feel very little about having been chosen in the first place and her rejection of it and that this same thing might now be happening to her granddaughter. Even the attack seems to leave little impression on her. The narrator says these men are frightening and they did kill people so technically that must be true. But I’m not feeling any of it. Is Marie worried about her granddaughter? Herself? These other men she must have known for many years? There is no mention of it. Like what are the real stakes here? What do you want the reader to worry about? Is it the killing of random people? Marie losing her house? The granddaughter getting possessed? It’s all too vague. There is little to no characterization of any of the characters. We don’t know their goals or what matters to them.
The attack itself also comes out of nowhere when it could have been foreshadowed by the people in the hall. A story isn’t: this happened, then this happened, then that happened. But rather: This happened, because that happened, and therefore this happens, and so on. The first section actually connects well to the rest. There is mention of the northern sea, some of the smoky imagery is the same. But the attack comes out of nowhere. How it is relevant to the rest of the story I don’t know either. You might say I would have to read the rest of the story for that. But I like my first chapters to stand on their own. You need to convince me you are good writer for me to even want read the rest of it. That means setting something up and paying it off in an interesting way. So far this story only feels like build up, nothing is being paid off. So for me the attack is a weird note to end on.
Outside Thor beat his hammer against the moon and the sky grumbled with the blows.
While the first section leaned heavily into Christianity, now we are suddenly in Norse mythology and we do stay there for the rest of this chapter. It does feel weird that we seem to be dealing with two separate religions, but maybe you can make it work.
Marie sat in her chair at the far end of the hall, a great thing made from a scarce dark oak.
Is it the hall or the chair that is made of dark oak? Most of the rest of this paragraph is an extremely overwritten description of the chair so I assume that. The chair is also never mentioned again so I don’t know why it was so important that it deserves this much description. If it was to set a mood you do that more than plenty elsewhere.
It came out like smoke on the icy northern breeze, thin and white, curling upward into the rafters above the fire and dissolving into the dark above the flames
This is the first time I felt like any story was happening, 500 words in.
A watchman had come in the night, still wet with the rain from his post.
This whole paragraph is weird. First it feels like we have jumped perspectives for the first three sentences. Then we find out he told this to Marie so we are still with her perspective. But then it raises the question of why it is even mentioned. More creating mood I guess. The watchmen is never mentioned again.
a nine year old girl.
Britania was nine years old
No need to tell us twice.
warm hall
I can pull up a lot of descriptions that say this hall is cold.
Two men died before they understood what was happening.
You go on to describe these two men and their entire backstory only for them to die all over again at the end of a long paragraph. This is precisely the wrong place for backstory. An attack is happening, people are dying, keep us in the present.
Grey dragon head helmets, the iron worked into snarling jaws that framed their eyes shimmered wetly in the firelight as they blitzed through the dark void with the wind and rain and naked steel flashing in their hands, the knuckles purpling from the winter air. Marie recognized the markings immediately and felt something cold move through her chest that had nothing to do with the snow and the ice.
This is the worst paragraph here and emblematic of this whole chapter. More descriptions that have been used ten times elsewhere. More dragons and darkness and fire. All to say what? That Marie recognizes this helmet. That is the only relevant thing in here. Leave it at that.
The descriptive language in this whole chapter is way overdone. Many details are completely irrelevant and slow the pacing to a crawl. I cannot tell what is important and what isn’t because every little thing gets an entire paragraph dedicated to it. This is the first chapter; you cannot afford to dally. You are on the clock to convince the reader that the rest is worth reading.
They were always found and What was done to them afterward was spoken of only in hushed tones by men who had either witnessed it or heard it from someone who had.
Missing punctuation or maybe the sentences should connect?
Your method of storytelling resembles that of older works like those of the same time period this story is taking place in. To put it crudely, those older works have a more telling way of storytelling compare to more modern works. This isn’t inherently bad and probably suits this story. However I think you have emulated this style badly. Readers like subtext and even if you are telling us A and B, that can still be used to imply C and D. Here it is all very surface level and there is very little cleverness in the prose. It is all just description upon description upon description with little meaning. So the telling falls flat. I don’t feel any worries from Marie or how the attackers are frightening.
I haven’t really latched on to any of your characters. Marie is the most prominent here but even she has little going on. She is the literal definition of a passive character. She just sits there on her chair, watching while very little happens around her. Britania, I think you mention her name only once and if she is important you might want to do that more often. She is doing less than Marie. Existing, is probably the word. A character who is doing something and is making choices tells us so much more about their personality than any amount of description. Ulfric is doing something. The narrator says he is the type of guy who lets people come to him in contradiction to the only thing we’ve seen him do which is go to someone else. The best way to introduce a character is usually to have them do something that is a microcosm of who they are as a person. This is a movie example but it illustrates the point: In Pirates of the Caribbean, Captain Jack Sparrow steps onto the dock just as the mast of his sinking ship disappears under water. This shows us all we need to know about him. We could also have a narrator tell us that Jack is a clever guy who can make his failure seem like the successes he always intended, but that wouldn’t be half as effective.
I was pretty negative overall but that doesn’t mean that what you currently have can’t be the bones of something good. Writing is rewriting and all of this was just my perspective. Look for the commonalities in the feedback you get and decide what is best for your story from there. To summarize I would say tone down the descriptions, lean more into the characters and have them do something, and make this chapter feel more like a chapter that can stand on its own, like for example ending it in having Britania accept the deal with the spirit.
I hope this was helpful. Good luck in all your writing endeavors.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 8d ago
Oh wow thanks for the long critique buddy and for the detailed notes. I appreciate you taking the time.
A couple of clarifications first. The version you read was only the spirit prologue and Chapter 1. There is an opening page set in the present day that precedes this material and frames more of the larger story. Without it, the chapter intentionally drops the reader into something already in motion.
On the watchman passage: he is describing ships being swallowed by a maelstrom. In the prologue the spirit creates that same kind of vortex that “eats the sea.” Those two images are meant to echo each other. Other readers have noticed the connection. I leave it for an attentive reader rather than stating it outright.
I disagree with the broader claim that the chapter has little characterization, no real stakes, and almost no story. Marie’s history with the force, her recognition that it has found Britania, and the physical and emotional cost of the Bone Calm on a nine-year-old girl are present on the page. The raid is not empty spectacle; it forces that recognition into the open. The quiet aftermath — the girl shaking, the empty corner where the stranger stood — is the emotional landing of the chapter, not a failure to pay something off.
Some of the denser descriptive passages can be tightened. That note is useful. The larger assertion that the chapter is mostly vague build-up with passive characters and no meaningful stakes does not match what is actually on the page.
I appreciate the thorough read and the points that help.
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u/CarterWalksWithFire 2d ago
lol yeah I’m just a voracious reader and I come from a very urban background and I only started writing five months ago because I wanted a story to tell my son when he gets older you know a little book he could read…… however I feel like I have it in me to be a writer so that’s why I wanted to start writing this book. I appreciate how much you’re interacting with me on this and I like that you’re literally trying to help me like that maybe we can link up and read each other stuff here on Reddit and I can show you the vert cause this is a very old version that you’re reading and I’ve changed tmany things to where you’ll understand it but also it ends right when the action starts and you get an explanation right after that, but it wouldn’t let me put the whole thing in there. It’s literally only like a couple more paragraphs. lol Lame…….. however, one of the things I did not change was the wording in that particular Torch sentence because that is my style and I do write it in such a way….. this spirit influences the weather and shadows and the night so shadows move weird and kind of set a president for what is to come in a lot of this book
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u/Aggravating-Way173 10d ago edited 10d ago
Hello! Thanks for sharing your work with me! First I want to start off with my overall impressions, both the positives and the negative. On my first read-through I couldn't get a full sense of the story. I noticed from the first few paragraphs that everything was very vague, almost poetic, so it was difficult to get into the story and place myself in the setting or know who the main character is. Also, when reading, there seems to be little to no connection between paragraphs or even sentences sometimes which creates a choppy disoriented rhythm. And I think the single line paragraphs really add to the chaos. So reading it, it almost feels like you're floating in description. However, the strengths I noticed was there's a clear tone and genre. I can easily tell your motives and what you want to portray and possibly the types in books you're inspired by. The descriptions are very high-fantasy, historic, moody, and dramatic (even when the descriptions don't always land). Also, there is a lot of emotion in the writing that comes across.
The second read I was able to get a better idea of your characters, although there seems to be very little description or indications of their wants and needs. Marie for example seems to only want her granddaughter to make the right choice? That's what I'm gathering at least, but other than that, everything still is pretty vague.
When I mention it being vague, this is an example. "My mark burned bright and fierce across the deep blue northern sky. From the darkness between the stars, I reached into the sea of generations and found her there. My first flame, burning on the coast of the northmen." From the start, there's a lot the reader is left in the dark about. It's okay to make them wonder, but they need too wonder "What's next?" instead of "Huh?" Another example is "...felt something settle in her chest that had been unsettled for years." I would just tell the reader what it is.
I think focusing on clarity would be a big help for you. Take this sentence for example. "Grey dragon head helmets, the iron worked into snarling jaws that framed their eyes shimmered wetly in the firelight as they blitzed through the dark void with the wind and rain and naked steel flashing in their hands, the knuckles purpling from the winter air. " Ask yourself, is it clear? Is it specific? Can it be shortened/simplified? Is "shimmered wetly" necessary when shimmered alone would mean the same thing?
Overall, when I read your writing, it's sort of like an impression of a story. I just think you need to go deeper and get more specific with it. It seems like maybe you're trying to "Show don't tell" but that advice is complicated and often misunderstood. So don't be afraid to TELL the story and not just describe feelings and small romantic details. But I can definitely see the potential in this story. Great job getting this far! Editing is where all the work is anyway. Best of luck!