First 250 Words Smash! #32

Most Wonderful Author: Kristal
Most Evil Critique Master: Sarah
Working Title: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Somewhere between the sour lemon tang of afternoon kisses and the dusky ochre tinge of morning sex lies a world of pain we have yet to explore.

It takes time, she once said. It all takes time. It took time for her to open her eyes in the first place, because she wanted silence more than she wanted me. Silence is so much louder when sight is shut out.

You aren’t her. This I know with an age-old conviction that reverberates through my spirit-bound bones. You aren’t her and you’ll never be. But I stay with you (and you with me), for, without each other, we are no one.

I was no one when she left. I think she stole my soul, all quiet-like, when she slipped away in the tangelo dawning hour. She trailed the barest essence of me in her wake. What she left behind—what you see and taste and feel and hear—is a burnt out shell of something. Something you love for the sake of love. Something that cannot love you back.

But ink is dear, and I am rambling. Come, let me tell you what she would have wanted you to know.

Strong Points –
Oh man, the writing is absolutely gorgeous. I mean, I was hooked with the first part of the first sentence, “Somewhere between the sour lemon tang of afternoon kisses”, and I was like, the array of feelings that such a combination of words communicates just got me. And also, I absolutely loved this whole thing:

What she left behind—what you see and taste and feel and hear—is a burnt out shell of something. Something you love for the sake of love. Something that cannot love you back.

This communicates SO much by withholding specificity, by casting shadows, and it really stuck with me.

There’s such command of the mood as well. I can feel it in every sentence, even the smallest sentences, like “You aren’t her.” I love it, and I love the lyrical cadence and the organic flow of the sentences. And voice? Yep. The character voice develops subtly, under the surface, in such phrases as “quiet-like”. You really utilize ambiguity in a captivating way and I love it.


Some Tips –
Minor tweaks are all I see, craft- and style-wise. You have a poignant style that translates right away, and this is really tough to do in the first few paragraphs unless you really know and have a handle on your style already. So, in that regard, I definitely can’t critique it. The only thing I can really help you with is tell you how I see the story you’re weaving – or, my translation of it, in a sense.

Lyrical writing, while beautiful, demands that the reader read slowly to take everything in. Consequently, the pacing of your story is that much slower. If this is what you’re aiming for, then good. Go for it. Just keep in mind that prose that casts shadows like this will cause your readers to take more time to digest the narrative. I, for example, read some lines twice because I liked them that much, or I read twice to make sure I got every detail as clearly as I could.

Secondly, the way the writer addresses “you”, along with such lines as “lies a world of pain we have yet to explore” and “Come, let me tell you what she would have wanted you to know” are part of the “reminiscing” opening type trope, or the “addressing the reader” opening type trope, or “rambles” as the writer calls it, that often straddle the cliché.

If the “addressing the reader” theme, or the general second person POV, continues on throughout the narrative, then this might be okay. If it’s a one-time thing, I’ve often seen openings like this get cut because they’re sort of like unnecessary introductory bits that stall the reader from getting to the actual story. In a sense, it’s sort of like cushioning for “dramatic” or “mysterious” inflating, like talking up the reader to get them interested instead of simply giving them the story. “I’m going to tell you about the story before we actually get into the story.” If used incorrectly, this tool can actually take away from the story. So, be aware of that. I definitely can’t speak for yours since I only have the first 200 words, but it’s absolutely up to you in the end.

Also, since you sent in your title, I’m definitely going to advise against using a cliché. (I’ve seen clichés used well before, sure, but usually it’s in an ironic sense.) Of course, this is subjective, and people often argue that a cliché is a cliché because it works – however, a cliché is also a cliché because it’s been used too much and has lost its edge. Clichés are best when freshened up or used in an unexpected way.


Would I Keep Reading?
Most likely. I love the writing to pieces, but, personally, the “telling vs. showing” aspect of the intro and the title leaves me a bit wary. I’d want to give it a chance, at least, and see if the “telling” aspect is pervasive. Otherwise, for me, this is definitely the type of writing that I’d mark to remember.

Good luck! ♥

First 250 Word Smash! #26

Most Courageous Author: Dr. Snakes 
Moustachioed and Villainous Editor: Victoria
Working Title: Life Sucks and then You Die

Death was sitting on his chest, popping bubble-gum noisily and that was, quite frankly, rude. Great, he thought, even death blows. He blinked up at the girl crushing his lungs, seemingly oblivious to his plight as she fixed her hair in her scythe’s reflective blade.

“Hey, you’re awake! Finally, I thought you were gonna be snoozing forever.” She clambered off of him quickly, almost tripping on her over-sized jumper in her hurry. Her scythe clattered to the ground which she hastily snatched up; she had the good sense to look embarrassed.

He sat up slowly, his chest aching awfully as he went, he let out a grunt of pain.

“Oh, sorry about that, I really had to hack at you,”  she sounded amused rather than apologetic. “You OK?” She looked too cheerful for someone that had just used the word ‘hack’ in a sentence.

“I’m dead,” he mumbled, “I’m dead and you’re the Grim Reaper.”

“Yep,” she wasn’t paying him any attention and was instead rubbing a blemish off of the chine, “Well your Reaper anyway.”

He looked down at his hands in awe but they looked the same as they had in life right down to the chewed nails and IV scar. He’d seen enough TV to know that something wasn’t right here, wasn’t transparency and levitation part of the deal? Casper had given him false expectations of death apparently.

“This is really anti-climactic,” he blurted out without much thought.

Strong Points -
I love  the reaper! She's cute and she's not at all what's expected. She also completely sets the mood, and starts to raise questions about what other reapers might be like, because she's awkward and has moments of embarrassment and yet she hacks the MC from his body. She is without a doubt my most favorite part.

You've also included some very nice minor details in there, like the IV scar and the chewed nails, because those slip little questions into our brains, like why an IV? Is that how he died?


Some Tips -
Well, you put some nice cincher details in, as I mentioned, but what about where they are? He's on the ground, right? Is it cold and hard beneath his back? Is it soft and comfortable? I am literally picturing them in the middle of white space, because I haven't a single clue to go by.

Also, I say this a lot, but I must let you know this is a personal preference of mine. I don't like dialogue tags, such as 'blurted'. I would much rather you show us this instead of telling me what he did. Showing can reveal even more of those little details I liked so much, and can give us a better glimpse into our MC and his thoughts and the kind of person he is. Telling us through dialogue tags doesn't have the same power or impact that this would.

I do love the reaper so, and as I said, she is my favorite part because she is so not what is expected. But consider that her comedic relief may kill some of the tension. If that's okay with you, then it's perfectly okay with me.

One last tip, this one regarding your title. A clever twist on a cliche is always appreciated, but in the end, it's just that: a cliche. We've heard this saying a lot, and unfortunately it's so worn out that it just does not catch the eye. Having a working title that you don't intend on keeping is no problem at all. It's not a bad thing to use a placeholder and it's really good that you didn't just leave it blank. You may want to check out this post on titles if you're in need of help there.


Would I keep reading?
Unfortunately, not quite yet. It's just not there, but that's okay! I hope you revise and revise and send this back to me, because I freaking love that reaper! Hope to hear from you soon! <3 <3

Battling Clichés

Anonymous asked:

What’s wrong with prophecies in a fantasy novel? Specially with the Chosen One. I have it by accident, but it’s kind of different. I think if it’s justified and well done it can work, what do you think? Any advice on writing it and being original? P.S.: I CAN’T delete it, it is really important. Thank you so much!

Taken from TVTropes.org on the archetype “The Chosen One”:

“The ultimate victim (or beneficiary) of Because Destiny Says So. The oldest and most common Super Hero Origin. The easiest way to turn an Ordinary High School Student into the only thing preventing The End of the World as We Know It. Take it for granted that they are the Only One.”

The examples listed above are all tropes in The Chosen One archetype that have been done so many times that their classic definition is a widely recognized cliché. That’s what you want to avoid when it comes to using The Chosen One as a plot device.

When people say not to use the “prophecy” in a fantasy novel, it’s usually because it’s been done to death, and also because it’s used as an unquestionable catalyst to put the story in motion. Oftentimes, instead of components coming together synergistically to create the story, The Prophecy can be used as a cop-out, a “greater power” that cannot be questioned, which propels the story just because.

So, if the answer to the big question of, “Why this character?” is simply, “Because,” that can frustrate readers.

However, this doesn’t mean you need to avoid The Prophecy and The Chosen One at all costs. Classic tropes can be used, there’s nothing wrong with that. Even the dystopia subgenre, only a fairly recently recognized subgenre (although it’s existed for much longer), already has its common set of tropes and clichés.

The trick is to take the trope and do something other than the cliché. If you’ve read widely enough, you know how authors tend to utilize the aforementioned, and you can discern what worked for the story and what didn’t. Take what you know and apply it to your story, do something that you haven’t read yet with The Chosen One, something that hasn’t been done.

Make it fresh, original, twist it, do something different and unexpected.

Sometimes this’ll take a lot of thought and planning. Sometimes you’ll have to pull components from other stories, other genres even (crossing genres is always an awesome way to break out of the typical clichés). Combine different elements and then ask yourself if the story is weighing too much on the cliché.

A trick I use is to write up a summary that would go on the back cover (or the query), and then I can more objectively see what this story might look like to someone else so I can ask myself:

• Does this read like too many other back covers?
• What makes this story unique?
• What stands out?
• If it’s lacking pizzazz, how can I change things up?
• If there are clichés, what can I do to drop-kick some originality into them?

The most important thing in the end is that you write the story that you want to write, because that’s what will keep you writing. Don’t write what people want you to write about, and don’t let people tell you what you shouldn’t write, because plenty of writing advice tells you just that. You’re in charge of your own story, so if your story hinges on The Prophecy and The Chosen One, then work the heck out of it.

• Clichés
• Stereotypes, Tropes, and Archetypes
• Kick the Fantasy Cliché (And Some World Building Tips)
• Ten Fantasy Clichés That Should Be Put to Rest 

(cross-posted from KSW on Tumblr)

Breaking Writing Habits

Habits in writing are natural. Like any other habit, they serve as a safety net and a place where we can surround ourselves in comfortable things that work for us. In short fiction, these habits might not stand out so much. In long fiction, however, repetitious formulas can jolt a reader from the narrative.

The list below is a few pointers on craft habits that I tend to give writers during the critique process. They’re only guidelines, not rules, and as such are totally meant to be ignored at any given time.


Passages of time
I once critiqued a writer who used “she waited a beat” as a way to express a moment passing, and I hadn’t seen this before, so I liked it. But then she used it again. And again.

There might be times where simply “a moment passed” is completely necessary. Oftentimes, however, it doesn’t need to be done. Instead, it might be possible to actually describe what happens in that moment, whether it’s simply just the characters seething with tension and expressing it physically.

“She looked away. They were silent for a tense moment.”

Versus:

“She looked away. Her fingers picked at her jeans. The breeze tickled the gathering sweat on the back of her neck.”


Transitions
Extra steps of action can be used as a tool to slow down the narrative or create a certain mood, but if that’s not the intention, then this might be the end result:

“She walked down the hall and grabbed the doorknob. She unlocked the deadbolt and pushed open the door. She stepped outside.”

This is a lot of unnecessary fat that would be trimmed right off in revision. Not every second of a scene (or between scenes) needs to be captured if there’s not plot or character development, so it’s fine if all that is summed up to simply:

“She went outside.”


Distancing phrases
I/she/he: felt, saw, heard, tasted, touched, etc. Any time the aforementioned is used, the writer removes the reader from the story one full step. Instead of diving headfirst into the description, this makes the reader test the water with their big toe first.

“I heard the wolf cry.”
“The wolf cried.”

“I tasted cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon burned on my tongue.”

“I touched the cold water.”
“The cold water stung my fingertips.”

In moderation, at the right moments, perhaps to create a certain mood or to communicate a sort of disconnect (such as in dreams or fragmented memories), using these phrases can be effective as well.


Word tics
Words like “back” and “around” are my greatest dependencies. I use them so frequently that everyone is looking back or turning back or reaching back or handing back. Even worse, sometimes my characters will turn back around.

Word tics stunt a writer in creatively approaching action. I’ve read about agents who loathe the word “look” and said to simply describe what the character is seeing. There are certainly times where these words are absolutely necessary, but they shouldn’t serve as a crutch. (You can read more about word tics in this post.)


Clichés
Clichés lose their meaning over time, and because of this, they often don’t work well in regards to description.

“He had a chiseled face.”

“Her eyes sparkled like diamonds.”

These are phrases that have been used and abused to the point where readers will glaze over the cliché in question without digesting the words, or readers will read the cliché and think of another story where they last read it. (Or maybe even roll their eyes because diamonds.)

As writers, it’s our job to invent new ways to describe the same things. It’s also important to note that clichés can be reinvented, a twisted new take on old phrases, so to speak, and also that some characters might simply be prone to clichés as part of who they are.


Awesome unusual words
Sometimes we find a super cool word that we love to use and reuse. It simply works in a sentence and conveys precisely what we want to convey. The word might not be all that unusual, but strange enough that it stands out if we use it twice in a chapter. The more we use it, the more it loses its efficacy.

“The blistering cold shower water…”
“The blistering wind…”

Let’s assume the first example sentence just needs to have the word blistering. In that case, it might actually be best to rework the second sentence to let the reader infer the word “blistering”.

“The wind ripped the swell of condensation from her lips. Her eyes burned as she crossed the patches of grass, her stiff fingers buried deep in the pockets of her coat. She knew the sparse green blades would be dead with frost in the morning.”


(cross-posted from KSW on Tumblr)