Oh, it’s a first drafts thread, it’s hard to see these things sometimes.
Well it was just the “last paragraph” I wrote and currently I’m editing the middle of the book. That was basically the last fight of the last chapter of said book.
Yup, that’s what I am trying to say sorry, I was just trying to help, not criticize!
Don’t worry. I shouldn’t dish out what I can’t handle myself. I criticize others’ writing, why should I expect unconditional praise?
Same thing, I am happy to get critique on my para’s
Okay, here we go, a really raw one, the last for the day
Expressionless as her voice was, Xi did not believe for a moment she was unaffected. The profusion of crimson flowers opened up and wilted in her hair. He caught one in mid-air, and plucked its petals, one by one. “Will Yu die?”
“Yu is already dead.”
“Not in my mother’s eyes.”
“Hence our disagreement.”
“I can’t help you.”
“I did not ask you to, Chong Xi. I asked you to record the translation of the ‘Word of the Ancient Days of the Principality of Daghrajan.’”
“Daghrajan it is then,” Xi said, resuming his place, brush poised, the half-destroyed flower tacked in his sleeve. Men grew white hair arguing with the faeries, they said. And those who said it, had not even met Sister Sayewa. How his mother resisted the steely gaze and the aura of absolute authority, he could not fathom.
Hi DomiSotto, I’m a little confused about your convo. It seems to jump between the hence line and the i can’t help you line. Like something’s missing. Hope that helps
I need to fill in between the lines, Xi would get an emote that Yu wanted him to convince his mother, and he might get that same vibe from Sayewa, or at least think that he is getting it. So, he will respond to that with refusing to help. Not sure how much I will need there, but something will need to be added, yeah.
Is the story this is from published on your account? I’d love to read it.
Near the pounding speakers, Jada dances alone. Her eyes are shut, and her shimmering long-sleeved dress looks like it’s on fire. Her motions are smooth and undulating. When she spins, her skirt flies out around her. Degare sits on the grass, shirtless, and watches her, a little bit too closely, and I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Chance lies on the grass beside him, and he looks ghostly in the moonlight. His thin arms and chest are pale. His hair is untied, which is a strange sight to me, and it flops over the side of his face, hiding it in shadow. A few Crows lounge around them, but Degare pays them no mind as they punch each other and joke. Their leather jackets lie on the grass, so many discarded sheathes.
Hope I’m not jumping in too suddenly. I just need thoughts on this paragraph. It’s supposed to have a certain mood… but man… I’m not very good at that mood, you know?
No, I still working on that one.
I like it. I can’t tell if Chance is in trouble or not because I don’t know the full context of the scene or characters, but your descriptions are on point!
Pem’s eyes held a glint of something Brynna could not place, something no one had paid her a glance with before. It was sorrow and longing, and if she dared she might even call it –
“When will you realize that I do care?” he whispered suddenly, his words ghosting over her face in soft puffs of air. “I do want you but you cannot be here.”
oh darn, well good luck with your writing, it looks like it will be an awesome story when it’s finished!
Thanks. I’ve got plenty of other books up in the meantime.
Hm, I might check some of them out then.
Thank you! Sorry for the super late reply It’s actually from a Snow White/Peter Pan crossover retelling that I’m working on, so I’m glad the dark fairytale vibe came through!
Hmm hmm. This is a short one, but it’s all I have at the moment.
Monsters never die, not really, and anyone who says differently is either a liar or a fool. Monsters, once born, only fester and grow. In killing one, you create another to take its place.
No, monsters never die.
They can only change.
Oooh, I really like that one! Very decisive.
You might want to take another look at the ‘no one had paid her a glance before’, it sounds a bit odd.
I like the dialogue line, very passionate.
Thank you! I’m writing this particular character as the decisive yet aloof sort . . . a bit different from myself to be honest.