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Public Reviews
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26
26
Review of Lesley  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (3.0)
Hi,

First a little about myself- I used to write shorts and am now trying to execute my ideas for novels (latest interest: mystery). However, while I’m an avid reader I have yet to write something I like well enough to actually submit for publication. I’m currently reviewing as a way of procrastinating. But perhaps I’ll catch the writing ‘bug’ again through reading others’ works.
While my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only one reader’s views. Please feel free to take them on board if you think they are helpful, or ignore them-in the end you, the author, know best where you’re going with this text.
Last warning: I’m not a poet nor a great reader of poetry. But anyway, here goes:

Normally I do not comment on the descriptive or introductory line, but here I think I have to, because I think it’s hurting you in several ways.

Firstly, I almost didn't review your poem because you say it’s about your lovely wife. How do you critique something this personal?
Secondly: Do we need to know that Lesley is lovely? In my humble view not-it has to come across in your poem, otherwise ‘telling’ us is mute. Yes, I know, the Writing.com system demands a descriptive line…I suggest trying to think of it as though your poem were already published. The editor would just preface it with the information that this is a poem about the author’s wife i.e. without the adjective, if you see what I mean?
Thirdly: You describe it as being in Cinguain style. Thank you for making me look that up, I read up on Wikipedia about it, very interesting. However, if Wikipedia is right, it’s Cinquain, from 5 i.e. Q not G? If that’s the case then it shows the reader/reviewer (think: future editor) a certain carelessness on your side as how you introduce your work, watch out for that. And what does this actually tell us without the information which rules/style you keep or break-that it’s a 5-liner? But perhaps this is being hypercritical…again, remember, I’m no poet

First line no problem: Whereas Leslie used to be a pre-dominantly masculine name, Lesley clearly refers to a female, so it is clear enough

Grammar I think your poem would benefit from punctuation. As it the poem stands, the meaning is unclear. Is it for example

“Lesley: [She’s the] Best friend I have.”

Or:

“Lesley. Best friend I have, [Because] She listens and comforts.”

Without punctuation you could even read it as the absurd sentence “She listens and comforts feelings of happiness and love.” Whereas “Feelings…” obviously has to be the start of a new sentence, so there should be a period preceding it.

My suggestion/interpretation with punctuation inserted for clarification:

Lesley:
Best friend I have,
She listens and comforts.
Feelings of happiness and love.
Soulmate.

Point of View The POV is that of the unnamed I-narrator (presumably the author speaking directly to the reader). The focus is on Lesley, except I think there’s a problem with the switch that occurs at “feelings”, where we suddenly get basically your gut reaction. All the other lines refer to Lesley, are descriptive of her i.e. her name, that she’s your best friend, what she does (listen and comforts), that she’s your soulmate. So far so good. But the feelings are yours, your reaction to her…and so don’t fit in with the descriptive list. Unless you mean to say that Lesley equals feelings of happiness and love? Then that ought to be made clearer in my opinion…

Style/voice I love the way your poem looks on the page, the shape…However, the writing, at least by novel-writing standards, would be considered much too ‘telling’-best friend, feelings of happiness and love, and probably even soulmate are instances of Telling-instead-of-Showing. You show us when you write “she listens and comforts”. I’d suggest digging deeper, to find ways of showing that she is your best friend without actually telling us. “To whom I turn” “In whom I trust” or “who holds my heart” or such would be ways of showing…Just a thought for your consideration.

Overall: Good effort, but please understand that in order to indicate there’s room for improvement I’ll have to assign a relatively low rating (I’d be happy to re-review a revised version).

Good luck with your writing and have a nice writing day

Nok

PS If you like my review, please consider returning the favor my reviewing a fellow author on the review request page. (And if you don’t like my review, consider reviewing another author to show me how it’s done.)
27
27
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
Hi,

first my usual disclaimer: I am not published, but am reviewing based on my own experience with writing and advice on writing I’ve read. However, in the end this is mostly one reader’s opinion. Please take on board what you feel is useful or feel free to ignore.

I’ll write in English, as this is the language on this site and also because otherwise my spell-checker goes nuts. So here goes:
Plot:
In scene 1 Obergruppenfuehrer Dr. Ernst Kaltenbacher commits suicide rather than be arrested. On his table there’s a document containing all the secret information about the wonder-weapons created by the Nazi-scientists (but the development of these came too late to change the outcome of world-war II).
In scene 2 we meet the hungry and unemployed Thomas Stark, previously lieutenant of the Deutsche Luftwaffe, who, after it has been ascertained that while a soldier he’s no Nazi, gets unexpected employment from Jack Emmerson of the US army. He tells his sister and her children that he is to leave tomorrow. (we’re assuming that he’s been hired by military intelligence and will have to find the document from scene 1).
Good introduction into the period and presumably the story problem/goal—a suspenseful beginning.
Characters: The voices of the characters are individual and interesting, but you do not give us much on appearances.
Point Of View (POV): One POV each per scene, third person, consistently written, well done!
Setting: There was a lot of setting and put to good use in the first scene, I’d have liked more in scene 2.
References: Consistent as far as I can tell.
Language, Style & ‘Voice’: I found only a few little things, overall the style strikes me as period-adequate, yet easy to read.
Overall impression: A promising start to your tale.
Best of luck with your story.
Love
Nok

INLINE REVIEW
- 1 -

Seine Hände glitten über die spiegelglatte Oberfläche seines kunstvoll verzierten artfully ornamented-how exactly? Inlaid patterns? Can you be more specific? Mahagoni Schreibtisches. Hier liefen einst die Schaltwege der Inneren und Geheimen Sicherheit des ganzen Reiches zusammen. Viele wichtige Papiere zierten adorned seems a bit off, can heaps of paper adorn? Perhaps covered? “bedeckten” or even “verdeckten”? normalerweise in großen Stapeln die große Ablagefläche. Heute war dies anders, nur ein dreißig seitiges 30 page document-shouldn’t that be one word? But since the Rechtschreibreform I’m not sure about anything anymore Dokument lag darauf. Es war sorgfältig getippt und gebunden. Er griff danach und überprüfte dessen Inhalt nochmals genauestens. Hier war sie, die komplette Auflistung aller wunderbaren technologischen Errungenschaften des tausendjährigen Reiches. Errungenschaften, die von dem überlegenen Geiste arischen should be “arischer Wissenschaftlern hervorgebracht wurden I’d personally still prefer “worden waren” at least assuming the action is now completed?. Diese Untermenschen, die nun ihre dreckigen, verkrümmten Finger nach dem geliebten Vaterland ausstreckten, konnten nicht einmal wagen von solch einem Schatz zu träumen. Es war seine Absicht mit diesem Dokument den Abschaum des Internationalen BolschewikenI think you need a hyphen to indicate that it’s “Bolschewikentums”? Unless it’s a single expression that’s well-known to your readers, I personally think it was used in different variations? But I’m no expert on the time… und Judentums in seine Schranken zu weisen. Sie sollten sich ehrfürchtig vor dem Reich, der arischen Rasse und ihrem göttlichen hm, was he really called divine? Not sure… Führer verneigen. Das Dokument war gut, es war genau so, wie er es sich vorgestellt hatte!

Er schloss seine Augen und legte das Dokument beiseite. Seine rechte Hand öffnete die Schublade in der Mitte seines perhaps better: “des” as you’ve had already “his” right hand? Schreibtisches. …


- 2 -

Thomas Stark saß vor der halb-verglasten Türe auf einer unbequemen Holzbank. Er kam sich vor wie damals in der 6. Klasse, als er beim Oberstudiendirektor vorsprechen musste, nachdem er das Glasfenster der Schulküche nach einem schlecht gezielten Schuss mit seinem Fußball zertrümmerte again, I’d tend to “zertruemmert hatte”…but it’s a matter of how close you want to stick to the period…. Heute war es aber doch anders, vielleicht kriegte er ja endlich etwas zu tun. Seit dem Kriegsende vor 8 Monaten gab es für die meisten Kriegsrückkehrer keine Arbeit, kein Einkommen, gar nichts! Er war hungrig und schlecht angezogen dressed badly—how? Here’s your chance to let us ‘see’ the character!. Er ließ seine Schwester und ihre vier Kinder draußen auf der Straße warten, der Ami unten beim Haupteingang wollte sie nicht Alle hereinlassen. Da saß er nun und wartete. Eigentümlich war es ja schon, dass sie ihn hierher zum Ami Hauptquartier bestellten. Sicherlich hatte es etwas mit seiner ruhmreichen Vergangenheit zu tun, aber geheuer war es ihm bei dieser Sache nicht.

Die Tür ging auf, eine attraktive Blondine attractive-‘telling’, ‘show’ us instead, please? sagte in gepflegtem Deutsch: „Sie sind nun an der Reihe, Herr Stark!“ Für seinen Geschmack betonte die Dame das Wort „Herr“ ein-wenig zu stark, er wollte aber höflich sein und antwortete ebenso gepflegt: „Dankeschön, Gnädiges Fräulein, wo muss ich hin?“ - „Folgen sie mir!“, antwortete sie. Ähnlich wie ein Dackel seinem Besitzer hinterher trippelt, folgte Thomas Stark der attraktiven Blondine.
„Thomas Stark, bitte setzen sie sich!“, sagte der freundliche ”friendly”-‘telling’ again Ami vor ihm und wies auf einen bequem aussehenden, grünen Ledersessel. Thomas Stark ließ sich ein wenig zu schnell in den Sessel fallen. Grinsend fragte der Ami in akzeptablem Deutsch: „Es scheint ein Weilchen her zu sein seitdem sie sich auf so einem luxuriöses Möbelstück ausruhen durften, hab ich recht?“ - „Besitz luxuriöser Möbelstücke, ein Privileg des Siegers!“, entgegnete Thomas Stark kalt. „Kein Grund unfreundlich zu werden Herr Stark! Mein Name ist Emmerson, Jack Emmerson, Major der US Army und ob Sie es glauben oder nicht, ich bin Ihr Freund!“, reagierte der freundliche Ami und hielt Thomas Stark seine offen ausgestreckte, rechte Hand hin. Thomas Stark ergriff das Angebot und erwiderte: „Stark, Thomas Stark, ehemaliger Leutnant der Deutschen Luftwaffe, aber dies wissen Sie ja sicher schon!“

Major Emmerson blätterte durch das Register, dass er in den Händen hielt und murmelte laut vor sich hin: „Leutnant der Deutschen Luftwaffe, Mitglied des ruhmreichen Kampfgeschwaders 55, empfohlen von ihrem Oberst Wilhelm Krupp als außerordentlich leistungsfähigen, „sauberen“ Soldaten should be “leistungsfaehiger, sauberer Soldat”. …

Zwei Stunden später trat der Held unserer Geschichte the hero of our story—sounds a bit dated but fits in this period, so it’s probably OK. Just realize that at this point you’re yanking the reader out of the story, drawing attention to the fictionality of the character and story aus dem Hauptquartier heraus. Seine Schwester und ihre vier Kinder saßen gegenüber unter einer Linde. Thomas Stark lief zu ihnen. „Und? Alles gut?“ fragte seine Schwester mit einem Hauch von Hoffnung auf den Lippen. „Ja, ich muss Morgen weg!“, entgegnete Thomas Stark.
…
28
28
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (3.5)

Hi again,

first my usual disclaimer: I am not published, but am reviewing based on my own experience with writing and advice on writing I’ve read. However, in the end this is mostly one reader’s opinion. Please take on board what you feel is useful or feel free to ignore.

Plot: The three Hunters confront Sophia, but she commands more vampires than they anticipated. Also she has a magical weapon, an amulet, that clouds the sky, sheltering the vampires from sunlight so they can fight with the powers they have normally only at night. The fight begins, Barros specifically tries to seek out Sophia. She retreats to the tower of the Ambassadors, where Barros duels with her and manages to throw her out of the window. Jumping after her he stabs her through the eye and heart, but leaves the dying Countess to run to Grayson’s assistance. He comes in time to witness Grayson’s courageous fight against overwhelming odds. Barros drives the vampires off, but Grayson dies from blood loss. Good ending with a success against Sophia and her vampires but Barros has on the other hand lost a valuable companion and fighter and there’s the dangerous amulet that lets vampires operate in daylight…the situation is still bad, or even worse and it makes us wonder what Barros can do to solve it?
Characters: Mostly Barros, Sophia, and at the end Grayson play a role; vampires, townsfolk and Piero, Thomas and the Ambassador. Good and distinct ‘voices’ for the POV characters Barros and Sophia. Even the minor characters at the Ambassadors’ tower were well described. However, I couldn’t form a clear picture of the vampires—fangs, (and from the earlier chapter we know ring fingers longer than middle fingers) claws, and somehow stony…do they look like Nosferatu, or still like people? Clarify?
Point Of View (POV): First half Barros’ POV, then Sophia, then Barros’; the transitions were handled well. I noted only a couple of minor slips.
Setting: Since this is mostly action there was in my view enough setting; nice job on the description of the sky
References: OK in my view
Language:
• Overused words: try and avoid quickly, and I thought now was also a bit overused, cut a few?
• Sentence variation : continues to be very readable
• Worn out expressions: : It was the beginning of the end
• redundancy/ies : a few, see below
• repeated phrases and words : OK in my view
• stating the obvious: there was a bit of that
[Use of the free autocrit wizard at http://www.autocrit.com/wizardformpage.php is recommended]
Style & ‘Voice’: Note that as a rule for dialogue periods and commas go inside the quotation marks, not outside. This chapter was fun and easy to read. Good action!

Overall impression: Fast-paced and dramatic, I’m sorry that Grayson died, he was an interesting and likable character, but kudos to you, it increases the credibility of the threat. And perhaps we haven’t yet heard the last of the Countess? I’ll definitely read on…

Best of luck with your story.
Love
Nok

PS I’m sure you know anyway but still: remember to keep copies of all versions of a chapter (for example you can send them to yourself via email), just in case

INLINE REVIEW

The Ruby Sky

Under Construction

‘What do you want Countess’, shouted Piero across the market square. Periods and commas go inside the quotation marks, and in this case it is a question, hence it should be a quotation mark: …Countess?’ Piero shouted…

‘I want blood’, she said sweetly. ‘His blood’, pointing at Barros. perhaps better: ‘I want blood,’ she said sweetly, pointing at Barros. ‘His blood.”

Now drawing their sword and axe respectively, Piero and Grayson and stepped in front of Barros swinging them experimentally. Piero’s silver sword glinted in the sunlight; Grayson’s axe nearly beheaded him when swung.

The small army of Vampires laughed hysterically when they saw the small resistance stacked against them. Barros quickly counted at least three dozen of the beings he hated. Piero was wrong. [since you have the same statement in the dialogue]Therewas were more than Pero had originally [unnecessary]predicted.

‘Piero, you’re wrong. She’s got a whole damned army here. At least fifty of them’, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Grayson shifted on his feet uneasily [‘telling’]. Twenty Vampires could be handled by three Hunters, with maybe one death, but now at least double that would needed to take down this lot. Where had Sophia gotten her reinforcements from? POV slip Is suggest to let him say this out loud: ‘Twenty we three can handle, maybe, but this many? Where did she get these reinforcements?’

The Vampires fell silently then suspiciously telling eyed the Hunters, waiting for them to make the first move POV slip. A couple looked at Sophia as if to make sure she knew what she was doing. She readily stepped forward.

‘As you know my dear Hunters, we cannot drink or transform when the sun is still shining. Barros, as I said to you nights ago, I have overcome sunlight. This is how’.’

Reaching into her robe she retrieved a dull looking grey amulet. It was circular, with a point at the top and could be attached to be worn as a necklace. The Hunters looked at it clearly unimpressed. POV slip Sophia raised it above her head and every eye left in the market square followed her movement. Sophia spoke Speaking slowly and clearly in a language that nobody understood POV slip Barros didn’t understand, more than likely Galasosian, and the amulet changed colour. and you’ve changed the subject from Sophia to the amulet

Slowly at first continue on from last sentence from the original grey, to a subtle crimson red stating the obvious. A Thunder rumbled far duplication of meaning in the distance, then black clouds filled the sky suddenly engulfing it from all angles perhaps better: sides?. At first the clouds mimicked the shade of grey as the amulet had, then slowly morphed into the same crimson red.
Delighted ’telling’ grins overcame spread over the Vampiresapostrophe faces. They quickly shed their human flesh and became rock solid I suggest to end the sentence here, otherwise it sounds as though being fired at makes them solid as tThe Hunters fired their crossbows into the frenzied pack. It had little effect as ’telling’ However, the Fyndfire filled bolts simply bounced off the newly armoured Vampires as they charged towards the three defiant Hunters.

Finally, Barros shot a bolt that caught one of the lead Vampires between the eyes. She howled as the fire engulfed her and left nothing but ashes. Now that they knew to aim between the eyes the Hunters were making progress shooting down Vampires as they emerged from inside buildings and out of alleyways.
Sophia ordered a retreat, though? But? none of the Fyndfire affected her, she was too powerful. They bolts continued to bounce off her skin along with the Shades and Banshees she had gathered in her small army. are the shades and banshees also bouncing off or do you mean they are invulnerable like her? Clarify?

Breaking off now Vampires fled in every direction. They would now slaughter the whole city and more if they weren’t stopped. It was the beginning of the end if the three Hunters did not finish it. worn out expression And Barros would be blamed as the source of the problem and be executed by the Hunter Order if Sophia was not killed. He should have stabbed her in the heart when he had the chance

Racing through the city, splitting up with Piero and Grayson under the crimson sky, Barros shot scores suggest to rephrase as ‘score’ can mean twenty, i.e. it sounds like he shoots several groups of twenty and there were after all only about 50 to begin with? of Vampires as he tried to locate Sophia. He would not allow Piero or Grayson to take his responsibility away from him. He had to finish it, today.

Pushing himself to the limits that he could be pushed stating the obvious, he kept pace now with even the fastest of Vampires. The only thing to do now was to keep running and watch out for collisions. As he sprinted through the housing district, townspeople had emerged from their houses to observe the crimson sky. Everyone from small children to elderly grandparents were was out on the streets screaming about the end of days. The Vampires took this as a brilliant opportunity to feed, as they usually couldn’t cross thresholds when they were transformed.

‘Where would Sophia be?’ Barros asked himself as he shot a Spectre that came hurtling towards him. There were many landmarks that held significance for Vampires and more importantly Sophia within several kilometres. Being logical, Barros could immediately cross off the Benabrow Waterfall that he used to take Sophia too regularly. If there was blood to be had, Sophia would be in the thick of it, basking in the glory of that amulet. What could be so powerful that it could alter the physical making of the world? What other powers did the thing harbour?
Still sprinting through the city taking Vampires down as he ran, Barros finally caught sight of the midnight blue robe that Sophia was wearing. However, He continually lost sight of it through the crowd, seldom seeing it again. Judging by the direction she seemed to be travelling, Sophia would be going to the Ambassadorsapostrophe Tower. This was, where delegates from every other countryies stayed when they were in Rhorn.

‘The bitch is keen on starting a world war’,’ Barros thought.

….
Sophia smiled as she reached the foot of the Ambassadors Tower. She knew Barros was following her, she didn’t have enough time to prepare a decoy and besides those Hunters were observant. Now climbing the sweeping staircase, she encountered a steward of one of the Ambassadors. He was a small man, as they all? were in administration. He might have been a good axe fighter in his youth as his arms had held some promise but otherwise than that he looked like a he seemed an small you’ve had that above already insignificant man with the face of a rat.

‘Good past noon’,’ he said as he came level with Sophia in a traditional Renori greeting. Obviously the idiot hadn’t looked outside. ‘I am Steward Thomas, assistant to Ambassador Melrowe. ‘How may I assist you today?’

‘Yes I have an appointment to see Ambassador Melrowe this afternoon’,’ replied Sophia smiling. ‘I believe he is free this hour’.’

‘I’m afraid he isn’t’,’ said Thomas shaking his head like an elephant annoyed by a bee. ‘You’ll have to come back later’.’

Leaning forward giving Thomas a view, Sophia whispered , ‘I’m sure he’ll understand. Can you please take me to him?’

Thomas’s fast face flushed red, why was this woman getting so friendly? slip out of Sophia’s POV ‘Well I suppose I could. Quickly come this way’,’, he said running up the stairs.
Sophia hastened to follow him and soon after he stopped abruptly outside the door. Thomas stood straight backed and beckoned for Sophia to go inside. Sophia bowed her head to him and stepped quietly inside. The room was lowset and the Ambassador was working at a desk. He as well hadn’t seen the sky.’telling’

He looked up as Sophia walked towards him. The fat bespectacled man would not be able to utter a sound. Standing up behind his desk the man began to speak. isn’t that a contradiction-speaking is making a sound?

‘Hello there, I am Ambassador Melrowe, how may I assist you?’

‘Melrowe dear, how can you not remember me?’ asked Sophia.

‘Sophia? What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Anacore!’

‘I was until I got chased out. I assure you, I wasn’t involved in any illegal activities. Trouble was with my bloodline’.’

‘No not your father? He was one of my closest friends. What –’

She had grabbed him by the throat in while he was blustering over her father. Her claws dug into his neck, ripping through his jugular. Blood sprayed all over her hand as her fangs punctured his neck just below his chin. Melrowe’s hand jerked involuntarily and it hit the water beaker that was sitting on the edge of the desk.

Sophia was fast, but she could not stop an object moving at that speed. It landed and broke with a resounding smash that resounded 2x resound off the stonewalls. Cursing at herself Sophia heard the door open and saw Thomas, open eyed standing in the doorway. standing in the doorway and staring at her?

Without hesitating using her super powered leg muscle, she bounded across the room maybe: she crossed the room in one superhuman bound. Thomas didn’t even have enough time to draw the insignificant dagger that he wore at his belt. Sophia grabbed him under his shoulders and lifted him off his feet. He screamed and she covered his mouth with what?, preparing to rip out his tongue. She never got that far. Ramming him into the opposite wall breaking several bones she missed the throwing knife that had gone sailing past her head. A second followed it , cutting through the air as it spun to its maximum velocity.

It bit into Sophia’s flesh and she let out a howl turning and turned to see her attacker. …
The Countess must have been recovering before she renewed her assault. Using this opportunity to plan ahead Barros now realised the only course of action he could take. It would involve him and Sophia going out the window. Selecting three bolts, two coated with Fyndfire , the other with a heavier weight;, Barros reloaded his crossbow and waited.

‘What is taking her so long?’ he thought. ‘She should be in here by now’.’

His thoughts were interrupted by shattering glass. He pivoted on his right leg to see Sophia charging through the window. Firing with precision the first bolt launched and planted itself in her forehead. It left an orange ring where it had been burning her. He fired the second and caught her over her right breast.

Leaving the crossbow in his right hand he charged forward, crash tackling Sophia out of the window. Ten meters up, no problem. sentence fragment, rephrase? Raising his fist, he threw three quick jabs into Sophia’s face breaking her hold on him. Using her as a springboard he turned with his crossbow raised and fired at the tower. The heavier bolt arced and bit in a gap in the mortar that had been used to create the tower.

Trailing the bolt was a thick cord that had extended from the crossbow. It tightened and Barros was now directing his fall. The second story window was open and it would break his fall. 2xfall Angling his body, he let go of his crossbow just before he hit the ground. He rolled and intruded in on an elderly couple enjoying lunch.

….

Wiping Whipping? his sword out from its sheath, …
A scream and fire came from behind him so he turned to look. Racing around the tower, leaving Sophia impaled upon the sword he saw Grayson, crawling backwards reloading his crossbow. Blood dripped out of his mouth making a red river slowly trickle down his chest. He had a maniac grin on his face as though [otherwise it’s a POV slip] he was delighted in the kills he collected. Going to his comrade’s defence, Barros drew his crossbow and a knife from his leg sheath.

Firing his crossbow as he ran he quickly dropped several Minors who didn’t have the resistance to Fyndfire that Sophia did. They screamed as they erupted into flames leaving the path clear for Barros to reach Grayson. Grayson was now slowly slowing down? rapidly and Barros saw why. A Vampire had cut off his left leg leaving a blood trail behind him. Grayson was weakening but he still stemmed the flood of Vampires charging him. Barros had reached him with crossbow and knife in hand and quickly the Vampires stopped.

…

'Got the bastards aye. Emptied all but one bolt from my quiver. Piero was right though. Cockiness did cost me. We did well’,’ he said as he died.
29
29
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)

Hi again,

first my usual disclaimer: I am not published, but am reviewing based on my own experience with writing and advice on writing I’ve read. However, in the end this is mostly one reader’s opinion. Please take on board what you feel is useful or feel free to ignore.
Since I’ve received your permission I’ll delve a bit deeper into the writer’s tool kit in the dissection of the 2nd chapter.

Plot: At sun-down Barros lights a fuse to call other Hunters for help to put Sophia down. The experienced Piero and young Grayson (the latter coming from the city) answer the call. The three Hunters spend the night at the windmill. With daylight they decide to comb the city for new vampires recruited by Sophia. They determine there are at least 24 vampires afoot in the town. Barros shoots a man he believes wants to attack Grayson. With his dying words the man warns them about Sophia. Sophia and her vampire retinue make their bloody progress through the crowd on the marketplace, killing innocents right and left. The hunters prepare for the showdown with the powerful Countess and her minions.
The first part of the chapter felt a bit slow in pace, also I suggest to make Barros’ problem and the goal clearer and make clear what is at stake in order to increase the suspense. It was not entirely clear to me whether Barros was at fault fathering the child with the Countess, how could he have known? Will he be punished? Good ending on a high note of suspense, just before the fight with the Countess starts.
Characters: The characters are well described and have good ‘voices’, good dialogue! I like all three Hunters already. I only wondered whether you couldn’t introduce them during an active fight scene rather than in the rather stationary scene in the wind-mill?
Remember for example how D’Artagnan meets the 3 musketeers—he has a conflict with each of them which leads to three challenges to a duel (which reveals something about them as individuals) and they are actually unlikely to come to his aid, they do so only after the surprise recognition of one another and in the face of a joint and in numbers much stronger enemy i.e. the cardinal’s men. Perhaps you can make your hunters also seem less likely / willing helpers…maybe Piero looks too old and Grayson too young, maybe no-one comes at all and Barros starts his walk alone in the city, fully expecting to die when he is confronted by Piero who seems to want to shoot him, but, it is revealed, is already covered by Grayson, who protectively shadows Barros…and they quarrel, perhaps Piero accusing Barros of having started the trouble? Barros says oh yeah? Well he’ll sort it out himself, he doesn’t need help from a codger and a boy! Grayson says, without ‘the boy’ you’d already be dead. Piero says: Who do you call a codger? I’m head of the …Yeah, that means you’re what, 50? Bet you’d have missed me…No-one could miss a fat target like you, maybe I should’ve let him shoot you, says Grayson, etc. when they sense the vampires and unite against them? Just an idea…
Point Of View (POV): The hunter Barros, deep third person POV. Capable and courageous character, a bit of a rogue, so not perfect hero-material, but rather likable…There were a couple of POV slips into Piero’s head, watch that. Also I wondered whether you could get ‘deeper’ into the POV, using the descriptions of characters and setting (and there was no thought of Barros about the baby, which I find stretches belief a mite too far)
Sophia appears at the end, rather threatening…
Setting: There was some ‘telling’ instead of ‘showing’, and there was not enough setting for me to really picture the type of city, what people do and look like, basically I think there is the fortified city, fields, forest, open hillside and then the windmill up on the hill. You tell us the daytime but not much about the weather, I think there’s once a gentle wind…Try to get deep into Barros’ character, how does he see the town and landscape? As the place where he grew up? The house where his parents lived, the one he shared with Sophia, the tavern where they had their marriage feast…or does he see it as a warrior—places to hide, ambushes, places without cover…or is he thinking about vampires…where are shadows, where are suspected helpers…or is it about Sophie, where would she go, whom would she ‘turn’…he’d think about the effect of wind on his shooting, about how to find the vampires in the crowd, how to limit hysteria and collateral damage…if you know these thoughts then you’ll be able to ‘show’ us…he avoids the narrow streets that are filled with shadow, tries to keep in the sunlit middle of the carriage roads, but has to evade horses and oxen-drawn vehicles, while an itch between the shoulder blades develops and he fights the need to turn round, his foot in the thin-soled soft boots feels for cobblestones and carriage grooves and treacherous mud spots as he can’t take his eyes off the faces of passersby, especially cowled purple-gowned monks, veiled ladies in widows pale grey, ruddy peasants with broad-brimmed green straw hats, always peering for the tell-tale red reflective eye, the pallor of the skin that are the marks of the vampire…
References: no inconsistencies as far as I could tell, but I’m not terribly keen on exit as a verb and scanning…feels a bit out of place
Language:
• Overused words: Try to avoid the use of adjectives and adverbs, especially –ly adverbs, use stronger verbs or nouns instead. Overused words: could, was, were (in general hunt down all forms of can and be as they tend to occur with weak writing); that, it, there; hear/heard, see/saw (try to avoid all verbs that refer to the process of experience, instead give us the experience itself, so avoid see, hear, taste, smell, feel and all synonyms thereof). Try to avoid seem/seemed and notice/d if it’s actually a reference to the process of experience. Avoid initial conjunction. Avoid using start, begin and similar expressions as they weaken the impact. scanning was overused. City seemed repetitive to me as did with/without.
• Sentence variation : The sentences are not too long, the text is eminently readable.
• Worn out expressions: : it was a dangerous job, but it had to be done
• redundancy/ies : onto
• repeated phrases and words : Seems OK to me
• stating the obvious: there was a bit of that
[Use of the free autocrit wizard at http://www.autocrit.com/wizardformpage.php is recommended]
Style & ‘Voice’: You have an easygoing style, very readable; action scenes seem to come easily to you, but remember to add the emotions via descriptions of characters and setting through the eyes of your POV character
Overall impression:
I liked the chapter title. You seem to be good at coming up with short phrases that engage the reader’s interest. In my view there is more of a transition from the last chapter needed. I loved the action on the market place, wasn’t that keen on the more stationary first part…I think you need to work more on narrative and setting and getting even deeper inside the head of the POV character (a trick I sometimes use is to write in the I-form first, that way you can easily see when the POV slips or isn’t deep enough)…You’ve got a lot of small things and typos that need cleaning up, so I’m afraid the rating can’t be as high as the story idea merits…
Best of luck with your story.
Love
Nok
PS. If you’d like you could have a look at these two short pieces where the POV (admittedly first person) is handled in a very different way, maybe you can take some pointers on board on how to deepen the POV (obviously we all have our different styles)
"Veniam: Prologue" 
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INLINE REVIEW

Sunset came surprisingly[adverb] quickly[adverb], so it seemed as Barros prepared the flare. It was a simple design that was highly flammable and could be launched far into the air. How it caught Huntersapostrophe here I believe attention, Barros did not know, but he didn’t care as when he saw one, he went straight to it. why the paragraph break without an empty line? Check?
The crimson sun was still not completely[adverb]set but now would be the best time to call in view that it’s not an acoustic signal, rephrase…perhaps “alert”? the other Hunters.
OK, there are several things unclear: Why does the sunrise appear to come quickly? Does it matter? Why does Barros (who himself is a Hunter I gathered from Chapter 1) not know how the flare works to alert Hunters? It seems that after all he himself reacts to the visual signal? And would he not be very familiar with the device, too familiar even to think about it?
well done for naming the POV-character straight away, and the attempt to give us some setting. In my view, you need more of a transition though, which lets us know where and when we are compared to the last chapter. You also need to give us the urgent goal of the Point of View Character and what’s at stake for him, and the danger/odds he faces. You’re basically telling us: “At sunset the hunter Barros set off a rocket to alert the other Hunters.” So you’ve got the when (sort of), who, what, but were missing where and why. We’re presumably at the safe-house i.e. at the “large windmill south of the city” and his plan is “At dusk he could set off the flare that would call every other Hunter in the district to him”. You need to give us more of the setting and create a mood—how does Barros feel? Vengeful? Afraid? Regretful (the sunset comes too soon) or impatient (it can’t come quick enough)? Use the weather (is it windy would be an important question regarding the windmill) and the landscape and windmill to convey Barros’ feelings, below I’ll try to give some examples.
--Under a sky of blood, Barros clambered out of hiding and fumbled with flint and flare. Kneeling down in the shadow cross thrown by the windmill’s giant arms onto the grass-capped hill he prayed it was not too early for the Hunters to see the flare and not too late for them to travel. His hands trembled, and he struck several times until a spark lit the fuse. The flare screeched into the void above trailing grey smoke—the warning signal would certainly bring vampires surging out of the night…he was dead and their world lost if the Hunters did not arrive here first. He guessed there were twenty minutes until night fall.
Or:
--The sun wept blood for the love of his life, and the wind-mill moaned and groaned on the barren knoll not to orphan Abner, his baby son, but Barros heeded them not. Sophia must die. The flare tore into the sky’s entrails and his shoulders slumped. The hunters would come now. The wind rose, stinging his eyes, and he clenched his teeth and balled his fists, as his dark hair snaked around his face. No, she must die by Barros’ own hand!
Or so… you get my meaning.

Slowly[adverb]rising out of his underground cave, crossbow and eyes scanning from left to right and back again, Barros crouched low and struck his flint on the flare. It immediately[adverb] began to spark and splutter as he pointed it skyward. As he leapt backwards the flare shot up several hundred metres in the air [cliche]. it exploded and droplets of vampire blood fell back to earth. Now he understood why Hunters were called to the flares. explain more clearly why? Do they like the smell or what?

Opening the door to the windmill and quickly[adverb]closing it, Barros sprinted up the stairs to the abandoned balcony. Here he would have a decent view of everyone approaching and could easily[adverb]shoot if he identified a Vampire. Rhorn was likely[adverb]to have dozens of them swarming throughout the city; Sophia would be rallying them to her banner tonight. why mention the opening and closing of the door?

‘At any promise of blood, the bastards would show and Sophia would promise them with minecomma’ thought Barros. Hunters were the only beings that could turn a Vampire into a nightmare.sounds like they can make them more dangerous? Or do you mean kill them? Clarify? Full of regret why, Barros turned back to his full size crossbow that was pointed towards the now extinct flare. is it important where it is pointing?

After waiting in the growing darkness for nearly an hour a horse could be heard gallopeding towards the windmill. Several minutes of tense waiting pasted passed and then the shadow of horse and rider came into view, however only as a shadow. The rider climbed down from his large horse and strode over to the flare to examine itI thought the flare is gone?. Lighting a torch, Barros threw it down towards the ground and in the red of the fire, the man came into view [cliche]. Barros lit a torch and threw it at the man’s feet.
The man had greying neck length hair that ran down his face like a silvery mane covering it almost as effectively[adverb]as Barros’s cowl. perhaps better: However, the man’s long grey mane hid much of his face, all Barros could make out… In the firelight Barros could see the scowl he wore that was marred by several scars running from his nose to his chin. sounds strange as the scowl refers more to eye-brows and eyes and is an unpleasant expression to begin with?

He was clearly[adverb]a Hunter as the man drew a smaller crossbow with the ‘z’ shape underneath the main shaft. This was where the magazine was entered and enabled Hunters to drop handfuls sounds like vampires are really tiny, ha,ha, rephrase? of Vampires rapidly[adverb]. He was an experienced Hunter much like Barros and his eyes immediately moved to the shadow that was on the windmill.

‘I see your crossbow, tell me who you are’, shouted Barros towards the scarred man stating the obvious.

‘Piero Raldfast of the West Anacore Huntrey. Head of the West Anacore Huntrey’, he the other called back up, demanding some sort of respect.stating the obvious.
Barros gave him none.

‘No s***, because that sounds respectful in my view I’ve heard of you. But [initial conjunction, wouldn’t the sentence work just as well without it?] what the hell are you doing down herequestion mark I believe?. I thought Heads gave themselves tasks that are closer to home’.

‘Yes well lad, I chose this task aye, chasing down some big hotshot Countess. Apparently[adverb]she married and had a baby to a Hunter, do you know anything about that? But [initial conjunction, wouldn’t the sentence work just as well without it?] as you flared I suppose I should help you out’.

‘Yeah come up. We’ll see if anyone else shows up. 2xup But [initial conjunction, wouldn’t the sentence work just as well without it?] I hate to tell you, I was that Hunter that married the Countess’. …it was me who married the Countess?

The old Hunter shook his head and quickly[adverb]ascended the windmill as he cursed about incompetent Hunters and how anyone else could have seen through the disguise of a Countess. When he walked onto the balcony, Piero fell silent and drew up his full size crossbow like Barros had done. They stood in silence constantly[adverb]scanning from the city all the way to the foot of the windmill. Half an hour passed and Piero had begun to relax when he saw a flame burst over the city walls. this last sentence is a slip out of Barros’ POV into Piero’s, rephrase?

Not any sooner that the first had died down [cliche] a second had erupted. Then a third. Shouts and screams now carried from the city to the windmill on the gentle night breeze. sounds a bit stilted, simplify?

‘Looks and sounds like one of our lot is having some fun’, said Barros.

‘Indeed, and he appears to be coming this way’, replied Piero.

Sure enough the Hunter was moving southward through the city at a rather rapid pace. The flame and screams were getting much closer as the minutes past passed. Barros and Piero tightened the strings on their crossbows. A man with a torch ran out of the city gates with a trail of flame behind him. He wore a grey and green overcoat and carried a crossbow and held his sword in his other hand he carries a torch and a sword, how does he carry the cross-bow? Just checking…. The man was fast, he probably had been given speed do you mean he’s moving rapidly or he is on drugs? at the blood ritual. His pursuers were falling behind rapidly[adverb], some were Vampires and some weren’t.what are the others? How can Barros tell the difference? Show us instead of telling us?

Finishing off sounds too generic, I can’t picture it the remaining Vampires the man sprinted into the trees beyond the field in order to lose the people following him. He emerged several minutes later and he ran towards the windmill. Barros threw another torch towards the ground in order to see his face.

He was a young man, probably just younger than Barros. He had a fresh face with a small goatee growing. His Hunter gear had been cut at the sleeves and he wore a half cape instead of the full ones that Barros and Piero wore. The only Hunters that who wore this casual style came from Renor but they were usually more lethal and less friendly[adverb]thean others. This man was tall and well muscled and he carried himself with ease. His nose was short, maybe broken and he had steel coloured eyes.

‘I see you’re from Renor, friend’, called out Piero.

‘that I am Corian’, he shouted back.

‘You know who you’re talking to lad?’ said Barros. ‘Piero Raldfast this guy is. word order, he sounds like Yoda from Star Wars Head of West Anacore Huntrey’.

The man didn’t show any surprise but his eyes flicked back to Piero immediately[adverb]. He began walkinged towards the windmill when Barros fired a bolt towards him obviously which struck the ground a foot in front of him.

‘Wait up laddie, you haven’t told us who you are yet. Don’t think you’ll come any closer’.

‘If you must know, the name’s Grayson Yold. Third son and only remaining of Lord Tobias Yold’, he said in a proud voice. ’telling’

Barros whistled but Piero still wasn’t satisfied. He clearly[adverb]didn’t trust anyone from Renor, however Tobias Yold had become one of his friends over the years. delete because this is head-hopping into Piero’s head, stick with Barros’ POV

‘Name your father’s first kill. What rank and where. What weapon he used’.

‘My father travelled to the Renor Arena, he killed a Count by the name of Corde Winston with his bare hands. Better then what you do Piero’, said Grayson smiling.

Piero growled at Grayson and told him to come up. They’d wait until dawn to see if in case anymore Hunters arrived. The hours crept past and one Hunter remained on watch at all times. The other two slept, tucked in the relative shelter of the windmill. Barros stayed awake for some time watching the Renori Hunter. He did all that he had to do, and for that Barros commended him. After a while he was sure he’d grow to like the man as and he rolled over in his cloak and fell asleep.

Dawn had risen without anything arising in the night like Barros expected they would. ‘Better being prepared then being surprised’, as he thought bitterly[adverb]of surprises that Sophia could have inspacestall for him. He had half expected an army to rise during the middle of the night and come charging at the windmill were the Hunters had been camped.

Cooking a breakfast over a small fire the three decided it would be best to go look around the city, trying to spot any possible new recruits that Sophia had bought in during the last night. The Hunters split up at the gate and would meet at the city town? Market? square at sundown. Then the real hunting would begin. The market place would be the ideal place to search for Vampires, if there were any about. unnecessary

it was a dangerous job, but platitude it had to be done if they were to succeed wordiness. A dagger or claw could emerge in their backs at any time, but the Hunters were prepared. They spread out, enough not to be seen together in the same place, but kept close enough to watch one another’s back and draw one of their hip crossbows and to shoot at a potential assassin.

Pausing just inside the city gate, taking a deep breath Piero smelt sniffed [so it’s not out of POV] the air. He looked disgusted ’telling’, show us instead—does he screw up his face, or what? but kept inhaling with his eyes closed. Grabbing his hip crossbow, he blindly[adverb]fired into the air before opening his eyes. The other Hunters followed its the arrow’s/bolt’s arc as it raced over the buildings. A flame leapt over the tallest then retreated as quickly[adverb]as it had appeared. perhaps: A flame shot up…then vanished.

‘There is at least two dozen in the city’, said Piero informingly[adverb&telling] as he opened his eyes. ‘I just shot one, so best case scenario; we have twenty three to go’.

‘What a relief’, replied Grayson grinning. ‘I’ll have one spare bolt left in my quiver when we are done then. Maybe more if I feel like sharing’.
Piero pointed at Grayson accusingly[adverb]boring his eyes into him. ‘that cockiness is what gets you killed boy. You only have one life, so don’t lose it’.

Spreading out roughly fifty meters apart the Hunters kept their hands close to their swords and crossbows. Venturing into the growing crowd in the marketplace the Hunters occasionally[adverb]lost kept losing sight of each other. Exotic smells, sounds and sights can you be more specific? such as gigantic fruits from the Galasos Islands drew the eyes of any other man. The Hunters were disciplined and ’telling’ and obvious kept their eyes peeled for any threat.
scanning for unusual activity or people who had ring fingers longer than their middle fingers was a difficult task in a city that housed several thousand people who all seemed to be out shopping at the same time.

Barros saw a man approaching Grayson quickly[adverb]barging through the crowd forcing aside families and single travellers. without thinking, Barros’s crossbow was called to in his hand . He pointed it to where the man would be appear in several seconds hoping for a clear shot.

He fired and the hiss – twang of the crossbow was heard by nobody not even by him? Why mention it?. The bolt now released from its iron and wood prison leapt across the space of the marketplace in a second. it skimmed over people’s heads like a larger and more dangerous dragonfly as they cried out in alarm. Reaching its intended angle, the bolt dropped buried itself into the man’s shoulder.

He yelled and dropped onto [redundancy] the cobblestone thoroughfare. Grayson spun around and immediately[adverb], his eyes spotted the dying man. Piero dashed over drawing his knife as to end the threat. The man’s eyes widened as he was surrounded by the Hunters.

‘Please’, he gasped through blood now slowly[adverb]exiting welling up? Dripping? Seeping? from his slightly[adverb]open mouth. ‘I’m here not to harm you but to warn you’.

Raising his left arm to the rooftops weakly[adverb]he pointed. ‘She comes’, he said as he and died.

The Hunters turned at and looked at the mark he had pointed to obviously. Standing on the edge of the market square was Sophia protected from the sun dressed in a long flowing midnight blue robe that protected her from the sun. The crowd around her were clearly Vampires crowded around her. They wove through the other townsfolk stabbing at random, making the streets fill with blood.

‘Well, looks like the s***’s hit the roof now’, said Grayson.

Barros could’n’t help smiling grinned as he drew his sword. it This was going to get messy.
30
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Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
Hi,

first a disclaimer: I am not published, but am reviewing based on my own experience with writing and advice on writing I’ve read. However, in the end this is mostly one reader’s opinion. Please take on board what you feel is useful or feel free to ignore.

Overall impression: Quite an engaging story
Setting: I like the vampire/western combination
Characters: perhaps you could introduce the outer appearance and the names earlier
POV: the omniscient narrator POV created in my view quite a lot of distance between reader and story. Reconsider?
Descriptions: On the first paragraph especially overuse of adjectives, use stronger and more specific verbs and nouns instead?
Language: You use generic words a lot, which distances the reader from the happenings (examples: a settlement, a plain, a man, a woman…) There’s some telling instead of showing (e.g. the mother looked at him inquisitively,… seeing her husband form a question ,…He grunted in a yes sort of way)

Some typos/mistakes:

Suddenly his wife gasped in pain, and her fangs to her emerged …delete “to her”
…
‘Just remember, if I find you have killed someone I will be after you’, said the man. ‘Sunlight will bestow bestow what? upon you if you bring back blood.’

Walking quickly through the main thoroughfare the woman passed few people who adverted ….should be averted..
…‘Countess Sophia’, said one. ‘What privilege do we have Better: To what do we owe the provilege of receiving you here at this late hour?’

… The first man was thrown into the wooden table the guard’s had been gathered around. –should be guards
Even the smallest amount of blood which/that was sent rushing through her veins making made her more powerful.

Rounding on the third man that now had his sword drawncomma; the Countess strode forward
… and it also allowed the blood in her system to carry on with its work.

Best of luck with your story
Love

Nok
31
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Review of Veniam: Prologue  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)

Hi,

first a disclaimer: I am not published, but am reviewing based on my own experience with writing and advice on writing I’ve read. However, in the end this is mostly one reader’s opinion. Please take on board what you feel is useful or feel free to ignore.

Unfortunately this asks for a review with a rating. I don’t like to give ratings because I would rather look at the quality of the story idea and approach than at the degree of ‘finishing’. I’d give 5.0 for the idea, atmosphere and suspense of this snappy introduction, but technically there’s so much editing left to do that I’m forced to give a rather low rating for lack of polishing, I hope you’ll understand. (I’d be happy to re-review a revised version for you).

Here now my observations:

What I liked:

The creepy title caught my attention—it’s a gem, great for your genre! The opening is amidst action, something really baaad going on, and it hits us with sensory input…SCREAMS. It doesn’t get much better than this. I loved the shortness of the chapter. The mood/atmosphere worked for me as did the references to the Napoleonic times (which I adore). The I-narrator captured my interest and engaged my sympathy…

Some issues:

Character/s: It’s not totally clear whether the “I” in scene 1 and 2 is the same (the 17-year-old Russian soldier) or not? At first reading I thought that’s the case, upon re-reading I was not so sure…Scene 1 has a more passive “I”, which in the genre is often a woman, who reacts to the male protagonist’s scream? Characterization: We don’t get much visual on the character except for the clothing—I think it’d be easy to slip in personal and family name and the exact military rank (he’s in the infantry—a simple soldier?) and social class…?

Senses: Good use of the senses

References: see in-line comments

Language: Good, easy to read. I’m not too sure about punctuation myself but I believe there’s no comma before “that”? There are lots of little things that I picked up and since it’s such a short piece I’ve done a full in-line review—please don’t take it personally…I just think that your opening will be the showcase of your novel so it should be as near perfection as it can get. I wish you many reviews to help improve this great start to a hopefully great novel. (Have you written it all already? Do you use an outline? Just curious…)

Best of luck and let me know if you find this review helpful—I’d like to read more from you.
Love

Nok

PS If you’d like to do me a favour in return, please pick someone from the review request page whom you have not yet reviewed. I do not need reviews, but if you’d like to just have a look on my take on a similar genre/time—I’ve posted the start of one of my stories again ID #1848786—warning, it’s written in a ‘Lovecraftian’ wyrd style, feel free to read—but as I said, no need for review, thanks.

INLINE REVIEW

Screams. They were everywhere. ”were” implies almost bodily presence—perhaps “resounded from” “echoed”. Also clarify whether they’re screams of one or more persons? Every panel panel of what?, every molecule I checked, acc. To Merriam-Webster first use of molecule was 1794, but it struck me initially as anachronistic with the Napoleonic period, rephrase?, screamed that same relentless sound ’Sound’ doesn’t add anything and strikes me personally as weaker than ‘scream’. Be specific: Screech? Roar? Howl?. I wasn’t convinced yet, no comma in my view that it was real. Every night I’d wake, bathed in sweat, in tangles of sheets and fear nice; such like are normally no-no’s [she arrived in a carriage in tears] but here it works, I like it. I knew one thing though, that scream came from a manThis sentence is a bit wordy, maybe combine with the next sentence e.g. “I knew though it had to come from a man BECAUSE…”?. The roar that pelted my ears night after night, was so vicious, but so beautiful, its pitch so deep, it rumbled lowly, gallantly up to here I thought we’re talking about basically a scream of pain—now it could be a predator’s roar or a mating call, decide what it’s going to be and stick to it as this reads somewhat self-contradictory? But perhaps that’s only me… as so easily it could’ve been thunder in the distance, but no. Sorry, this whole last sentence is ugly and the “but no” ungrammatical, delete? He Technically we’re still hearing about the roar, so “it” would be more appropriate? was steady, he was constant, he would always remain that same bellowing. As if singing a song, but with wails of agony Yiech, incomplete sentence. As if the creature needed no breath, no pause for air You’ve moved from “he” to “the creature”, which is somehow more distant, less specific, the effect on me is a weakening of the descriptive power, unless you mean to say “but what man, what CREATURE needs no breath”? Then rephrase to clarify the emphasis is on strangeness. It was never stalled, but it never repeated. The sound was the same, but its meaning held different different what?each night.
I knew though, that sometime it must stop.
For when dawn waked odd simile in my view, perhaps “when dawn came” or “upon dawn”, “once it dawned” and the sun began its climb, there was silence. Dead, frightening silence I don’t like dead/frightening…dead seems stronger on its own?.
Had I been dreaming or was this majestic cry escaping from some manapostrophys agape mouth, far from my conscious being, that I could not see him, but could feel his pain? Pain? As I said—check consistency—before you said the meaning of the scream changes and called it even beautiful…
I couldn’t answer that question, not today, or yesterday, tomorrow, or last month the order is confusing and weakens the impact in my view when I came to this forsaken town, This should be a new sentence, perhaps starting with: However, his cries would continue to haunt me for as long as I remained here town/here is a bit unspecific, feels like deliberate mystification, can you be more specific?. comma, of this I was most certain.
~~


It was the year of 1812 in the brisk summer of Moscow nice. The Russian Imperial army I think it was not THE but ONE of the armies—the 1st Army of the West, the largest of the Russian armies facing Napoleon see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Andreas_Barcl... (but I’m no historian, all I’m saying is: double-check!) under general Mikhail Tolly consistency in time—I think he’d be called Prince XYZ was gathering to combat Napoleon and the French advances into the Soviet Union ouch-glaring anachronism, Russia, not Soviet Union!territory. Napoleon was at the height of his commanding power skip the word “commanding”, weakens the impact in my view, virtually why say virtually? in control of all of ”skip “all of”-wordiness continental Europe. He would soon underestimate the capabilities of the Russian Empire Slip from POV of the third person character into omniscient narrator. I myself, one of the young men enlisted to fight under the 2nd infantry Corps under Mikhail Tolly himself, would take something missing here: an/the? oath to destroy him. Why mention the oath? Is it a personal thing like that of the hero in War and Peace? If it’s just the soldiers’ oath to the Tsar I’d omit it…
The date, so clearly in my mind, the last memory I ever had, June 24th incomplete sentence, Napoleon had sent his final offerings I think you mean “offers” or “terms”—offerings are presents or sacrifices to gods I believe…. of peace to St. spacePetersburg, Start new sentence our lack of reply How does he know what’s happening at the highest level of command? gave him all the incentive he needed to begin delete “to begin”, “to invade” is enough invading Russian Poland is that historically the correct term?. He met little resistance, due to our inadequate forces, again—sounds omniscient but as the days grew on, he marched ever so closer to us. Sounds ugly and wordy, maybe ”as time went on, he marched ever closer”? Actually I think it sounds too pompous, history-bookish…delete?
The French, weak and full of their own vanityhow can he read their minds?, laid siege to Moscow, my home, a home we had abandoned in hopes to leave the French without supply and slow them down, givng typo: giving us the advance. I think you mean “the advantage” Again, if this is the summary of the scorched earth strategy—how does the character know these things?
That’s when the fires began. Dramatic but a bit flat—better get into detail—does the horizon turn red, or is smoke rising over the forest, what does the soldier really see of the burning Moscow?
Day after day, hour after hour, house after house, again you order from the strongest to the weakest image, suggest to re-order to heighten the impact instead of lessening it? almost 2/3 looks odd, rephrase, perhaps “the greater part” of the entire town was wood, and it burned briskly in the summer air. Echoes the “brisk” summer you had at the beginning with a different meaning which clashes in my view—replace with another word?Sabotaging rather: destroying? everything the French had hoped to loot Incomplete sentence. This was my mistake. Unclear, is the fire inadvertently caused by him or does he actually regret it as a mistake and would have preferred the French to loot? Clarify?
I had hoped that I could see my home be more specific? one last time before it’s typo: “its” demise if the fire was a mistake why did he expect its demise?. I had snuck out of encampment risking to be shot as a deserter? You haven’t really given a sufficiently strong motivation to risk that in my view…, donned in nothing, but my undershirt and trousers why not wear more?. The nightly wind was brisk you really like “brisk” huh? Vary a bit?, and so I hurried, flying can he really fly? through the tree’s typo “trees” as fast as my legs would allow better not use “flying” then?. Soon I would come upon an opening, so familiar to myself, where two incana tree’s trees separated, opening 2x opening to a meadow, spotted with brush and in it’s its center lay my home. It’s its cascading white beams, founding the house incomplete sentence. Far along the back lay a river named…?, glistening in the moon’s grey shadow. I sprinted across the meadow, such as I had less than a year ago, before the world began to change around me. this sentence sounds a bit wordy, can you be more specific? My eyes set upon the wooden door post, the brass handle, I clamored into the house, unconscious of any noise, no one had been here since the family left. I shut my eyes and breathed in through my nose, tasting the memories I should leave behind can you be more specific?, AND or start a new sentence before I knew it, I was upstairs in my bedroom, sitting on its mattress, caressing the sheets, laid out like someone had just put them there, I stretched myself across the bedding. Suddenly I was asleep. this last sentence strikes me as out of POV, how does he know that?

I felt heat, all around me, sweat trickled out of my pores, down my pale skin, soaking I was check word order, soaking in sweat. I opened my mouth to breathe, and nothing came in, no air was around me, my lungs screamed, and I coughed, while my saliva sizzled. The acrid smell of smoke was festering in my nose and trailing to my lungs. nice I opened my eyes, but everything was cloudy and uncertain can you be more specific than “uncertain”? are the outlines blurred, is smoke screening/swallowing familiar objects, are the images shimmering in the heat?. I could see orange and red flames, licking up around me.
NO! my mind screamed which my mouth could not. I began clawing around, feeling the heat burn at the soles of my bootless feet, as I jumped from the bed onto the floor I struck my hands out wildly while I ran, feeling like a blind man for an escape. My pace began to slow, my head heavy, and my lungs dieing collapsing? Shutting down?. They were dieing for air. obviously-delete? I began to fall to my knee’s, Why not say “I sank/fell to my knees,” clasping my throat I threw my head back, and I gasped and gasped for air, I screamed, and screamed. Collapsing to the ground with my mouth wide awake agape? and still screaming its silence.
I never made a sound, the only sounds were those of my skin peeling back from my flesh, the fire crackling, popping and snarling at my body, my hair fizzling as it burned like a firecracker before it was to burst. Before 2xbefore I knew it myself indicates a POV-slip, my eyes were closed again and I had no control over what?.



I stood up, and gazed around, the house, its glowing memories can you be more specific –what memories exactly?, now engulfed in glowing flames. 2xglowing doesn’t work here in my view
How is this possible?
How could I be seeing myself lying incapacitated upon the floor well, if that is so, give us a full gory visual of the corpse burning to a crisp, please?, how could I see the house burning down? specifics please? Beams crashing? What?
Please no, I'm not ready to die…
The desperation of a seventeen year old boy to comprehend the meaning of his death, my eyes began to dim, the slow realization setting in Incomplete sentence and feels slightly out of POV. I would never fight for Moscow they weren’t going to anyway, they abandoned it, remember?, I would never see Napoleon fall. I would never see the world the same again. There was so much left to do, so much time left to live. It wasn’t fair, I clenched my hands, it wasn’t right, I clamped my teeth down.
I want to be alive!
My hands and body tensed, full of fury and regret, but there was nothing to hit, nothing to destroy, I was nothing, I could do nothing, this anger was to be my final thoughts. anger is singular and sits ill with thoughts plural-rephrase?
“Wrong comma? young one, you are not dead,” A voice bellowed out from the heavens, or perhaps the depths of hell. “Come with me, you will understand soon enough,” it beckoned, here you seem to switch subject from “it (the voice)” to a man, suggest to sort these sentences out, so the subject is clear and grammatically consistent its voice, like a choir of the highest angels, singing in unison to the words this man beseeched imagery confusing, the voice is like a choir accompanying itself?. I wanted to trust him.
I glanced all around me, trying to gauge where I was, who I was, and what was happening, but when I opened my mouth to speak, all that was conjured conjure is not a word I would use for a voice, perhaps “all that came out” or “emerged”? , was my death scream, finally escaping, as my soul escaped this world, for I surely believed, I was no longer living. this ending is good, it echoes the certainty at the end of the first scene, however, if these are two different characters the ‘voice’ is too similar
32
32
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Hi again,

I loved this end to the prologue too. Clever way of adding the finishing touches to the character's appearance (even if it is using a sort of mirror, which is normally a no-no, here your character had a good reason for looking). I think there is a missing "was" in "What I couldn't handle was my own lack of...". And come to think of it --I don't think you ever give us the Point of View Character's name? I loved the freeze frame scene of the battle (you're really good at both single combat and epic battle scenes, do you realize how rare that is?)...but I stand by my comment that there ought to be a bit more on setting, and add some time of day, season, weather...? The wind was nice in part 1...loved the ending, full of suspense, will she die, be reborn, transform?...great start to the story

love

Nok
33
33
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Hi,

I am returning the favor. Please take my comments as helpfully meant suggestions for your consideration only. You--the author-- normally know best.

PLOT: great, fast-paced fight scene

REFERENCES: you succeeded to establish the fantasy genre and as far as I can tell all references are consistent with it ('adrenaline' sounds perhaps a bit too modern in a world where they fight with mace and sword, but hey, it's your world)

CHARACTERS: You did well with 'showing' us the character's appearance, even though it's the Point of View Character, which makes it difficult, the giant with the mace and the king came also across well; the main character in this scene is believable and the excitement of battle really came across

SETTING: I'd have liked a bit more on the landscape, but you used the senses very well (except I don't really remember taste or smell) and naturally the character's focus is on what's close by

STYLE & GRAMMAR: I loved your style, I normally hate fight scenes, but this was a great mixture of action and dialogue, I can't really find any faults to complain about :)

OVERALL: wow, that young and such an accomplished writer, you'll go far...a very promising beginning in more than one sense

best of luck with your story
love

Nok
34
34
Review of Beastly Banquet  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 18+ | (5.0)
Loved it. I saw the title advertised on the left side of the web site, and frankly I assumed it was a horror story...and it sort of is a creepy, but wickedly funny little thing, it made me smile and lifted my mood mightily (I'm currently worrying about how to fix my novel outline). I wish I was a poet
thanks for making me smile, I needed that

love

Nok
35
35
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hi,

I found this on the review request page. I'll give it a quick read and make some general comments, but I'll line-edit only a part, as reviewing costs time and I am a full-time writer. Please take my comments only as helpfully meant suggestions for your consideration.

PLOT In the prologue a serial killer is introduced, in chapter 1 we meet presumably the same person earlier, in his everyday-life as a college student in Japan and witness the event on 12/12/12 that changes his life forever

REFERENCES
consistent, I liked the 'tsundere' personality

SETTING
there was enough for the story in my view and to set mood and atmosphere, the sky cracking up was impressive

CHARACTERS
I liked how you introduced the characters, there was rich detail about their appearances (just be careful that it does not sound like the character sheets of a role-playing game. I absolutely adored the Point of View Character's voice and he seems average enough for readers to identify with him and sensitive enough to be interesting

STYLE
Your style seems really Japanese and genre-adequate, it's like a manga, I think it has great potential. But I have to be honest with you: though you're doing a good job for someone whose native language isn't English, it's just not good English--it sounds as though you're translating from Japanese

GRAMMAR
loads of mistakes, but I think that's a language problem, not specifically a grammar problem

OVERALL
I think you have a real gift for story-telling, but if you want to be read/published you'll have to find someone to clean the English up for you. I've done a very conservative editing job below as an example, that conserves as much as possible the 'Japanese feel'. If you like this review/edit I wouldn't mind working together, check out my review forum
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#1743231 by Not Available.
.

In any case best of luck with your story
love

Nok

In-line comments

PROLOGUE


It's depressing me to count how many people I've killed until this day. But somehow I can manage to stand here right now. She, the one who is standing next to me right now [repetitive], is the reason of my strength. By holding her my hand, she gives her warmth to me, enables me to keep up this serial murdering. Staying close to her, I feel like I can hold play much longer within this role, as a villain, as a man who lives in the negative on the wrong side of the law in people's sight view. And oh Lord God, even though this role looks really bad, and disgusting, and many other bad words which can explain could describe it, I'm I am glad that You gives have given this role to me, the role that gives me a meaning of to my life.

...

Today, December 11th 2012, a day before what-people-predicted to be the last day of the earth, like on any other days, I wake up at five in the morning. It's really cold today. Is it winter? I wonder if I looks like an idiot for asking a question like that. I turn on the TV, change the channel to NHK, but the truth is I don't know what to watch in on this early morning. It's been For quite a while since every all TV channels, newspapers, and other information providers have been showing "Will the end of the world really come?" as their header. I don't really care about that. If the world will ends tomorrow, then let it ends, as long as everyone dies together, then no one will feel lonely or so. No one won't will need to cry for the others and no one will feel sorry for them. It is just too sad to see something like that happening.

The clock is pointing at 7 o'clock, it's time to prepare breakfast. If I have had a girlfriend or am were living with my parents, then I think I don't wouldn't need to do this routines. But let's go back to reality, "you're living alone guys mate!" is what should be said to myself me right now. Fried egg and toast with jam, the easiest and fastest breakfast ever made, that's what I always think. As for additional taste, I add sliced green chilli between them. I don't know whether it's strange or not, and even if it's really strange, who cares about that. I really love spicy foods. Strange, isn't it? for a Japanese. The truth is, I am not a real Japanese, I'm just an "imposter" here. I come to Japan for studying my College degree, so it can be said that I'm a foreign student here. Even so, 3 three years here make me feels like a real Japanese right now.

I've a class at 10 A.M. today. So I decide to leave around nine, after taking a shower. It takes around 15 minutes to walk from my apartment to the campus. Like always, the road seems pretty quiet for a campus living area. Yeah, my apartment location is just not really popular within many students who live by themselves. Most of them prefer more "lively" areas for their apartment. Branches without any leaves are decorating most of the road side. It's been around 13 minutes since I've stepped out from of my apartment. I can see the campus building clearly right now. Seven-floors-brown-colored building with modern style architecture, yeah that's my campus, Keio University campus. There is always a security guard in front of the gate. I wonder if he is tired or bored for doing that job everyday. Standing, standing and standing from 9 A.M until 8 P.M looks boreding for to me.

First period class already ended. The clock is pointing at 10 A.M right now. The cClass will begin at 10.15 A.M. I think today I'll sit near the window like what I always do.

"Morning Ta!", I heard [you've started in present tense, stick with it] someone's voice. I turned my head and foundind that it wasis Takeda, Takeda Kobayashi. He is one of my close friends, 21 years old, around 165 cm tall, plain face, short hair, and has a nice personality. I'm not really good at making friends, but somehow I can get along well with him.

"Morning Take", I answered. He sits in front of me.

"Good morning everyone!", another voice comes to my ear. It's Suzuki, Period. With him are [because only one voice has spoken] Koji, Rena, Akane and Kana. Suzuki, Suzuki Maeda is also included in my close friends list. He is 22 years old, around 175 cm tall, a basketball player, plain face you've already said that about Takeda, vary a bit?, really short hair and a playboy, I think. Every time I see him, he is always with a girl and often changed a different one. Koji, Koji Nakayama, is also my best friend (the best implies only one). Just like Suzuki, he is 22 years old. He is an otaku, wears glasses, not too tall, not too good looking either, around 160 cm and short hair. As for Rena (Rena Kagawa), Akane (Akane Shinoda) and Kana (Kana Matsuyuki), they are really popular in my campus. I think I'm very lucky to stay at be in the same class with these girls. They are all 21 years old. Rena and Akane are around 160 cm tall, and Kana is around 165 cm tall. Rena and Kana have cute type faces and Akane has is beautiful type face also a Period All of them have straight long hair with different color, Rena's is black, Akane's is brown dyed and Kana's is gold dyed. They are all have cute personality type but for Kana. Kana is the only one with "tsundere" type personality.
36
36
Review of Chapter 1  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hi,

I found this on the review request page. I'll skim the chapter and give you some general feedback, but I'll review only the first scene in detail, please understand that reviewing costs time. Also please take my comments only as helpfully meant suggestions for your consideration. Having said this, here goes:

PLOT:

Section 1 consists of 2 scenes:
1.1 Suzi's dream, where she is in a wonderful place (snow, a house) that feels like she's supposed to be there, she meets a woman who says she's her grandmother, when Suzi thought she had no family and a wolf who seems familiar from dreams, the grandmother tells her much has to be revealed, but not now, and promises "I’ll send you a message within the week. We'll be together again, and what was stolen will be returned.”
1.2 Suzi arrives late for work as a maid/cleaner at the Crystal River Inn, is admonished by Frank, the manager, and supported by a co-worker Jo-Anne, who commiserates and wishes her 'Happy Birthday'; Suzi starts work.

Section 2 consists of 3 scenes
2.1 Two men in one of the hotel rooms exchange an unknown delivery against money, then the one that handed over the money, shoots the other using a silencer.
2.2 Suzi meets the killer as he leaves, he lets her go into the room, shoots her, forgetting about the silencer. Since the shot will alert people he flees. Suzi, shot in the shoulder, tries to phone for help, but passes out.
2.3 Suzi is again at the house in the dream and learns the old woman is Mary Suzanne Holloway, who lives "just outside Dublin Michigan", and Suzi meets Cameron, who kisses her hand and promises to help her.

Section 3
Suzi awakes in hospital with Jo-Jo at her bedside. She remembers the handsome Cameron and his kiss. Dr. Graff comes in and notices something strange about her wounds. Suzi learns from Jo-Jo that a woman in Michigan called the police, and that there was no dead man found in the hotel room. Suzi becomes centre of attention as the medical staff are nonplussed about the disappearance of her wounds and the green shine her skin emits where the wounds were.

Section 4
The killer (Josh) speaks with his master (Travis?), telling him that he left a live witness to Allen's murder, Suzanne Decarter. The master says that Allen is still alive and Hank is already on his way to clear up the mess. The master pulls Josh closer to 'see for himself'. What he sees angers him so greatly, Josh is killed (by magic?). The master sends Kennith on the all-important mission to kill Suzi, otherwise they will all die.

Section 5
Kennith attacks Suzi in hospital but is beaten back by a green light/force radiating from her. As the nurse and security burst into the room, he smashes a window and flies out (having grown wings, if I understand correctly). The nurse asks whether Suzi has somewhere safe to go to, but clearly with enemies that can do magic what place is secure?

Good, suspenseful plot, and great pacing, nothing sagged. Perhaps a bit too familiar and easily foreseeable were the developments of the main character finding out on her birthday that she is special and the fact that the wolf with amethyst eyes is a person/shifter

REFERENCES:
consistent as far as I can tell, you introduce the fantasy genre early and elegantly

SETTING:
Setting is both a strength and a weakness currently, your vision is full of strong,well-described colors, but I couldn't get clear a impression of landscape or rooms, it sort of remained fragmented. I seem to remember basically only visual impressions, which would indicate a need to use the other 4 senses more, too. Setting did not play a big role in characterisation, or in establishing mood and atmosphere. It reminded me some-how of the straight-forwardness of illustrations in children's books. Though it gives the dream-scenes a fairy-tale 'feel' I'm not altogether sure whether that really works for your story, which seems to target an older audience...

CHARACTERS:
You gave us good detail on characters' appearances. However, it didn't really feel memorable, as there was no particular reason to notice these details, for example perhaps the most memorable character regarding appearance was Dr. Graff because you opened with him having a grandfatherly look, which served as an anchor in my mind. The Master wears a violet robe and looks yellow, shrivelled...not bad, but I wasn't really clear on what he looks like (and somehow I was reminded of Voldemort in the Harry Potter stories, and not in a good way). The voices were nicely done, there was even slang :) You juggled a lot of characters really well, and I liked that you didn't rush in with the details about your main character, but took your time revealing the back story. I wonder whether the characters do not fall altogether too clearly into categories of good and evil, the good ones, especially your main character appears to have no flaw, and similarly the evil characters have no redeeming features whatsoever...(except perhaps Josh whom you gave some time to regret his choices)...The Point of View was normally 3rd person (Suzi in all scenes where she is present), except when the Master has killed Josh I had the feeling you slipped for a moment into Omniscient...

STYLE:
Your style is easy and fun to read, it should be easily understood. It needs cleaning up though, there were a number of typos...

GRAMMAR:
No problems in my view

OVERALL:
A nice fairy-tale for grown-ups, promising start. Consider giving the story/chapter at least a working title? It would help shape your ideas/story and attract more readers/reviewers, just a thought...

IN-LINE COMMENTS (Scene 1)

Suzi [Full marks for opening with the character's name, only I suggest giving the full name?] stood at the end of a snow covered driveway [this sentence feels out of POV, as though we're in Camera-POV], looking at a dark-blue farmhouse in the middle of a clearing. Spruce trees, their branches bent with the weight of a recent snowfall surrounded the area[this feels like a bird-eye's view, re-write from Suzi's POV, and the order is in my view not logical, wouldn't she see a winter snow-scape, with a frost-etched forest crowding a farm house, the roof laden with snow, drooping icycles, and snow swept high around the walls, almost looking in on the windows that twinkle in the low blue walls?]. A chickadee sang sweet music somewhere in the distance, a blue jay sat at one of the many bright red bird feeders that hung on cast iron hooks protruding from four and a half feet of snow in the yard. [again the order felt illogical to me, protrude suggests to me that you'd notice first four and a half feet of untouched feather-bed/pillows of snow and then the protruding red bird feeders?]

She was pulled to the house by an unseen force [wordiness--be specific or delete], and as her foot hit the wooden porch she noticed an elderly woman with blue-gray hair [elderly is 'telling'--specify e.g. wrinkled, shrivelled, bent or delete] sitting in a hand-carved [how can she tell? why dwell on this detail?] rocking chair [in the snow? on a porch? clarify]. Her mint-green [are you going for surreal/] eyes twinkled with a sweet ['telling'--'show us instead' smile [this order again feels illogical, why would Suzi look down so long, and wouldn't she at first glance have taken in not only the house but the woman seated there? after all we are conditioned to look for human forms!]. She couldn’t be more than four feet nine inches tall [isn't that difficult to tell with her being seated?], and she looked as if she were [wordiness/stating the obvious--replace by "was"?] swimming in her down-filled pink coat and grey sweat pants [sounds slightly out of POV, rephrase from Suzi's POV?]. Suzi watched as the woman sipped from a large purple mug.

"Please, join me for some cocoa." She waved her hand at the little green table with a second cup on it, and the wicker chair next to it. [the colors seem very stark, almost intrusive, blue house, red bird-feeders, blue-gray hair, mint-green eyes, purple mug, green table...]

"This place is beautiful!" Suzi sipped at the steaming liquid [add taste and temperature impression], awed by the sight around her.['telling'] "It all feels so familiar, like this is where I’m supposed to be. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes it does, I see there is much I need to explaincomma? my dear grand-daughter." She patted Suzi’s arm.

"What, I don’t understand; mom and dad said I didn’t have any other family." She looked to the trees, blinking back tears. Speech marksIt’s something I have always wanted though.Speech marks An enormous moving shadow at the edge of the woods caught her attention. She watched as a massive ['telling'] black wolf with violet eyes stepped into the light [tells us somewhere at the beginning the weather/day-time?]. “I’ve seen him before in my dreams. Once I could have sworn I saw him in person, but it was gone in a flash. ” She refused to take her eyes off the animal.

"We don’t have time now; I’ll tell you everything soon." The woman looked to the graying skies [nice]. "You have to wake up.” She let out a heavy sigh. "But before you go," She stood and gently cupped Suzi’s face in her hands. "Happy Birthday baby girl,” She leaned down kissing her on both cheeks.[what does that feel like/] "I’ll send you a message within the week. We'll be together again, and what was stolen will be returned.”[nice and cryptic]

Suzi's seaweed-green eyes fluttered open, filled with unshed tears [cliche--rephrase?]. The smell of jasmine [check formatting of these 2 paragraphs, they are narrower than the rest?]
and cocoa lingered in the air. She sat up running her slender fingers through her curly
dark-cherry hair, causing the worn floral quilt to slip revealing her delicate figure to the warm
air in the room. Goose-bumps covered the tanned skin not concealed by her oversized t-shirt.[out of POV and info-dump!]

“That was a weird dream.” She swung her legs off the bed and glanced at the glowing red
numbers on her bedside clock. “Quarter after nine, oh great, I’m gonna be late for work.” She
grabbed her uniform from a hook on the bathroom door. Skipping the shower, she dressed
while brushing her teeth [is that possible?]. Knowing there was no time to do her hair she threw it in a ponytail as she ran out the front door.

The big black SUV sat on the corner in its usual parking spot. Suzi jumped in behind the wheel, throwing her purse in the seat next to her. Chug, chug, chug, is was all she heard when she turned the key in the ignition. “Come on beasty, I’m late so no trouble today please.” She pleaded with the truck. ['telling' and 'stating the obvious'] On the second try it the engine? roared to life. “Thank the heavens.” She pulls out and heads for work, the giant wolf from her dream still fresh in her thoughts.[glitch into present tense]

Fifteen minutes later she turns [glitch into present tense] into a big parking lot Period? next to it sat four three story red brick buildings. A wooden sign was painted green and surrounded by bright multicolored flowers. The words, Welcome to the CRYSTAL RIVER INN, were carved into it. The hotel had seventy-five rooms, a bar and restaurant combination, and all the extras an average tourist could possibly want. ['Telling' and out of POV, she's got no reason to think about that?]

....

If you liked this review and would like me to read/review on please consider my review forum:
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#1743231 by Not Available.


Best of luck with your story
love

Nok
37
37
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: ASR | (4.0)
Hi,

please take my comments as helpfully meant suggestions for your consideration. Having said this here goes:

That's an enchanting story, even though fantasy and adhering to the standards of the genre it has a fresh and imaginative feel about it. I think you can go far.

As this is a work in progress there are a number of things you might wish to look at to further improve the text.

PLOT
Opening and Closing sentences could perhaps be crisper and more dramatic. You want to start ideally with a 'hook', introducing your POV character, ideally in danger, or at least with dialogue/action, as well as clarify the fantasy genre right from the start. The closing 'hook' should ideally have the POV character in a situation worse off than he started out in, and leave us with the question of how he will deal with it. There is some conflict-a fight with an ice demon, and the sudden mission to fight the evil Salian (thought to be extinct) alongside the Covenant of the Ice Dragons. Pacing was good, as new characters appeared and surprising things happened. I'm expecting the Quest to find and defeat the Salian will be the major story Goal.

REFERENCES (e.g. consistency, anachronisms)
As far as I could tell all consistent with your chosen genre of high fantasy (e.g. magic is real, there are elves, dragons)

CHARACTERS
Jackben, a bard, who travels to Naguaug to have a blacksmith repair a broken dagger he found in the woods
Serion, an elf and archer, who travels to Naguaug to find an alchemist, who can cure his sick father
An ice demon, who attacks them as they explore a cave
Gorgatron, Lord of the Ice Dragons, leader of the covenant against the Salian, whom they free from his magic prison by using the broken dagger
You did a good job with character appearances, I could imagine them well.

SETTING
The setting was well described, you made good use of all the senses. Your world-building is very good, I was immediately caught up in your world and the suspension of disbelief was immediate and total, with one exception: The paragraph where it is explained how magic works in your world felt somewhat like an info-dump: "Jackben was human and not a spellcaster. His mana and spellcasting abilities were nearly nonexistent, but the potential was there, as with every being. Spells are cast by using mana. Mana is the magical force in every being. The amount of mana and how it is used is different in everyone. Skilled mages can draw mana from the world around them and produce spells of staggering magnitude. Mana is depleted by casting many or powerful spells and can leave the person exhausted. It can be regenerated through rest, food, and medicine." Break it up a little?

STYLE
Your style is simple and fun to read, it is eminently readable and should easily be understood by young readers.
The Point Of View was not entirely clear to me--Omniscient? If you have a main character you might want to make that character the POV character and narrate in deep 3rd person POV? Just a thought...
In my view there was a tendency to overuse was/were and there were too many adverbs (do a search and destroy for-ly adverbs), replace adverbs by stronger verbs and/nouns instead?

GRAMMAR
No major or recurrent problems that I could see

OVERALL
I enjoyed reading the start of what looks to be a very promising story.
Hope these comments help a little to make it even better.
Best of luck with your story

love

Nok

P.S. If you liked this review and would like to work together please check out my review forum
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38
38
Review of Simon's Home  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (2.0)
Hi,

I can't speak for the people who rejected this, but I'll give it a look. but remember that all my comments are just helpfully meant suggestions for your consideration. So here goes:


Personally I liked the story, you had good descriptions, the mood and atmosphere was good and you have the beginning of a good story.

However, in my view it could be a lot tighter, crisper. The twist at the end needs to be more of a surprise. The title could be more exciting, perhaps reconsider that?

"The alley was dark." The first sentence has atmosphere but it's better to start with a hook--action, dialogue, a character in danger? Reshuffle?

You write from a distanced point of view, I'd suggest rewriting from deep 3rd persom

Line-editing ought to be done , e.g.

Typo: "...The man's face iss obscured by the tear."

Tense glitch "...he'd ran run away."

Directly reported thought like this "No. No, I'm not running away again" should be in italics in my view

Those are just some ideas,

if you're interested in help/in-depth review

please check out my forum
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love

Nok
39
39
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (3.0)
I was interested reading this, thanks for prompting me again to think about these issues. I'd like to make a few comments (more from a literary and philosophical point of view.)

These are of course only my opinions.

1. SCIENTIFIC PROOF APPROACH:



Science cannot prove there is a god. Not true, strictly speaking. It is not impossible that if there is a God a scientific test could be--in time--devised for him. The discovery of the 'god-spot' in the human brain might be a start. Or He might co-operate by responding to questions etc. say if mankind is more evolved? However that God cannot be proven not to exist is a fact. Science therefore believes that there is no god. Not true. "Science" does not believe, only hypothesises and attempts to test/falsify the hypothesis, and come up with a better one. Individual scientists have beliefs, but not as scientists, but as human beings. Life started just as an accidental chemical reaction leading to creation of protoplasm, developing, through evolution, to man. Yes, that is a hypothesis that so far is a useful model and not (yet) falsified by test or emergent new empirical evidence





CONCLUSION--



What is the reason of life? – A mere accident.You're using "reason" which has different meanings, see Aristotle. You make it sound unsatisfactory because reason in the West is such a loaded term and wrapped up with the notion of a reasoning mind. And "mere" is loaded as well, you influence the reader to agree with you. If you wrote instead: What started life? An accident. Then You see that it's just what you had above--a perfectly reasonable hypothesis.

What is the purpose of life? – To survive, by whatever means. That's not a scientific question (it presupposes intention/purpose. You'd have to ask whether there is a purpose before you can ask what it is, and define purpose, and design tests for it. The answer sounds like you misunderstand the theory of evolution. The abbreviation 'survival of the fittest' is much misunderstood (and an exaggeration, as many less fit organisms survive too), and it describes an outcome, an observation, not the intended result of something acting with purpose. A scientific position would be that 'purpose' is a term from the realm of human behaviour/thinking that is erroneously applied in the realm of physics, chemistry etc. It's like asking: What flavour ice-cream does life like? Does life watch football? It's a nonsensical question. It's a general problem of linguistics that plagues philosophy.





2. LOGICAL, PHILOSOPHICAL APPROACH:



Everything that exists cannot be known through the five senses of man. Much that exists is beyond the capacity of the five senses. At a given point of time, science does not know all that exists. The farthest that the science has ventured is to go up to the Big Bang, when an initial mass of matter exploded leading to the creation of the universe and life.Actually science is continuously pushing the boundaries, which you should take into account. From the fact that science cannot as of right now explain everything does not follow that science may not at a future time be able to explain 'life, universe and everything'. There would be nothing unscientific in postulating that someone created that initial mass or triggered that initial explosion. Let that someone be called G. If G created the universe and life, what was the purpose? Loaded question--you presuppose that there was a purpose... None knows except G himself. Here your presupposing self-awareness...G might be like an energy tsunami, or a giant amoeba...or many other things that don't have self-awareness However, it stands to reason "stands to reason" means it is logical or obvious, and no, to me it isn't that G could not have acted at cross purposes, meaning thereby that G could not have intended that those whom G has created should harm or kill or destroy the rest of G’s creation.there is no reason to prefer the concept of a 'good' God over that of an 'evil' God, two opposite forces, a mad, flawed or indifferent creator...There's a name for the type of 'mental trap' you've fallen into here--it's called Sentimental fallacy: it would be more pleasant if; therefore it ought to be; therefore it is





CONCLUSION--you may have come to that belief, but you cannot claim that it logically necessarily follows



What is the reason of life? – Life was created by a superpower, which may be referred to as G.in your opinion, but it's just a possibility, one of a vast number of mutually exclusive ones



What is the purpose of life? – To live life in a manner that does not harm to G’s creationimpossible, if you eat plants you harm them, if you step on grass you harm it, if you breathe in you harm bacteria etc. or scheme of thingswhat scheme? who says there is one; to live in love and harmony with nature.what about predators, what about mentally ill people, what about the 'problem of evil'?





3. THE BELIEF APPROACH:



About 30% people believe that life was created by the Lord, the father of Jesus, who gave men the word of God, the New Testament. Those who believe in it are saved; others are condemned. It is the duty of the believers to convert the non-believers to Christianity.overly simplistic



Another 30% believe that earth was created by Allah. He sent his prophet, Mohammad, who gave men the word of God, the Quoran. Those who believe in it are saved; others are condemned. It is the duty of the believers to convert the non-believers to Islam.overly simplistic



Both groups believe that the purpose of human life is to live and do as per the word of “their” god, as revealed by Jesus or Mohammad. Both groups disbelieve each other. So, they cancel out.cancel out? Doesn't follow, your logic is faulty here. Say we have two groups in disagreement about the sum of 2+2. Group A claims the result is 4, group B thinks it is -4. Do they cancel each other out? No. Group A is right.

Overall: nice try but the approach is flawed therefore you end up with the belief you've already had at the beginning (which is OK) but you haven't really applied scientific thought, logic or rigorous philosophical questioning to your beliefs. Try replacing God with devil/emptiness and good with evil/devoid of sense and your argument reads just as 'convincingly'...

Full marks though for being a moral person wrestling with these tough questions

love


Nok
40
40
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with  
Rated: E | (3.5)
Review: The Ternion, Ch 3, by Frank Moricz

Hi again. As usual, while my comments are helpfully meant they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. OK? So here goes:

PLOT--the conflict was only so-so:


Goal: Mason wants to attend class.
Conflict: His friend Zek duels the teacher & gets injured. Does Mason get out of his chair to ask his injured friend Zek be allowed to bow out of the magical duel? Yes, he does but the teacher continues the duel, and before Mason has to decide whether to do something about it and if so what, Zek helps himself.
Outcome: When Zek leaves the class after his perhaps evil use of magic Mason trails along, confused.

Reads pretty flat, wouldn't you agree? The problem in my view is that you picked the wrong POV. The POV character should always be the one who has most at stake. Here that's Zek, not Mason. Re-write from Zek's POV e.g.

Goal: Zek is still unsure whether to tell his friend Mason he found both their greatest desire--a way through the barrier; telling him would mean revealing the evil soul-magic Zek got, which might cost him Mason's friendship.
Conflict: When the evil magus Zeno taunts a little girl, Zek desperately wants to help her. Caution advises against it, but his dislike of Zeno and a hidden urge to try his new powers win--Zek duels the teacher. When Zeno blinds him, Zek in his anger strikes back with his new power.
Outcome: While Zek has won the duel, he's injured himself and the teacher; worse, the teacher knows about his soul magic--Zek'll be expelled and exiled; and now he has to explain to Mason--the very thing he decided against earlier--and will likely lose his friendship. Now, what can Zek say to Mason to rescue the situation?

See how the same scene is so much more dramatic than before, simply because we see it through Zek's eyes? With Zek's POV we're where the action is, don't relegate the reader to the distant POV of mildly concerned observer.

REFERENCES--no inconsistencies in my view

CHARACTERS--I found it difficult to warm to Max as POV here as he's got hardly anything at stake; the POV necessitated constant reminders that though not doing much he's looking here and there, which I found irritating

SETTING--OK for the scene

STYLE & GRAMMAR--
overuse of "move" and "quickly"; too many descriptions of mundane actions, wordiness
avoid adverbs as in "moved quickly"--pick a stronger, more specific verb instead e.g. "dashed"

OVERALL--good potential conflict, work on that as well as opening and closing lines. Good luck!


Keep writing!
love

Nok

IN-LINE REVIEW

Chapter 3 - Mason Drax: A Lesson of Humility


Light beamed onto Mason's face; he slept once again in the old cloth chair with a book still open on his lap from the night before. The makeshift library was always such a comfortable place, though it was dusty and worn with age. The thick stone walls and decorations from an older time made Mason feel safe. To get away from the busy arcane world was always a welcome escape for him. I suggest to cut the whole paragraph--it does not hook the reader's interest, and it is out of POV as Mason is asleep an can't think or see himself. Like a novel, a chapter should start as late as possible in the story/action

As he woke, he realized quickly that he had overslept once again. He hurried over to his wardrobe to change his clothes. Mason donned the first robe his eyes landed on, and rushed into the washroom where a blue crystal rained fresh water into the stone basin. The cold water helped to wake him as he splashed his face and ran his hands quickly through his short hair. On his way to the door, he picked up his boots from the floor near the chair, and quickly tightened them around his feet. cut, unnecessary intro

Mason flew through the broken doorway, and ran quickly towards the university. Running through the streets was uncivilized by arcane standards, but Mason didn't care. He enjoyed the cool wind on his skin, and the burning feeling in the legs that pumped furiously beneath him. None could match his speed on foot without the aid of magic. The journey was fast, and he only slowed his pace when he had reached the steps of the school. When he opened the door he found himself only a few moments behind schedule. cut--unnecessary intro

Mason entered the classroom of shadow magics after class had started and saw that --a demonstration had already begun. He moved quickly dashed to his chair and avoided the staring glances , eyes cast down under the stares of his peers. As he took his seat He sat down next to Zek, he looked over to see who wore the usual grin on his friend's face. He smiled back, and turned his attention to the shadow instructor at the head of the room.

Magus Zeno had treated Mason well enough over the years. He was much younger than Magus Grey, and probably as talented as the old fire mage once was. Zeno never forgot about Mason's magical shortcomings at least, and called upon him mostly for intellectual discussion rather than magical displays. sorry--info dump

Mason was aware that Zek was not a fan of the shadow instructor. It was obvious that Zeno had a bitter disposition towards Zek. Through demonstrations and subtle insults, Mason saw that Magus Zeno was just as jealous of Zek's natural magic talents as most of the arcane. Each time Zek was called upon in the room of shadows was a challenge of his skill and an attempt to make him look foolish. sorry--info dump

Today's lesson demonstrated the addition of shadow magic to active crystal. info dump At the front of the classroom, there was a display of arranged crystal; next to it, Magus Zeno walked to the front of the room to address the class. He stood silent for a moment, wearing a black robe trailed to the floor; the dark stitching upon it displayed a decorative pattern along his sleeves. [try and cut back the descriptions of mundane (non-)action, you've already had Mason come in, sit down--we don't need to watch his teacher walking in my view]

“Today we will imbue live crystal with varying degrees of shadow,” The instructor started. “Lately it would seem that more of you are choosing other arts to practice. I wish to show you the variety of a seemingly straightforward magic.” doesn't sound interesting to be honest--can you make it sound more exciting?

“Magus?” a girl in the front row started. Her arm was raised, and sleeved in the bright yellow colors of light magic. “It seems that light magic can do everything shadow can do--”

“That is incorrect, Feria, but I am glad you brought that up. Light is capable of much, but shadow is more than an equal. You will find that light often offers little more than illusion,” Zeno said in a raised tone.

“Isn't the heat of light more useful than shadow cold?” the girl asked again, defending her choice of magic.

“Perhaps for growing plants and pretty flowers, my dear,” Magus Zeno retorted with a playful smirk. “Come up here and I will show you.”

Feria moved to the front of the room beside the displayed crystal. The black shadow crystal had an aura of darkness which absorbed the light that came from the white crystal beside it. The fire crystal burned on the opposite side; the scarlet firelight seemed to avoid the shadow and appeared to burn at a strange angle.

It was clear to Mason that this arrangement was placed to make shadow magic appear more powerful. The instructor was especially proud of his chosen art, and considered it high above all others. Mason looked to Zek, and saw by his raised eyebrow that the implication was obvious to him as well. Mason knew that Zek never put much stock into the light or shadow magics; though he was adept in all magics, his favorites were always wind and fire.the last sentence feels info-dump-ish

Mason looked to the front of the room, and saw since he's the POV character it's obvious from what follows at whom he's looking in my view Magus Zeno now held the light crystal aloft. He moved a fingertip toward it slowly with his other hand. The moment his finger touched the crystal, it went from bright white to black, and the light it had given off ceased. The crystal now seemed to be taking in all the light from around it. The room loomed with growing darkness for a moment; Zeno smiled and removed his finger once again. With black eyes, he offered the crystal to Feria.

Feria gave him a strange look; it was common knowledge that light magic could not corrupt crystal as shadow magic could. The Magus flashed her a proud smile, and placed the crystal down to exchange it for the flaming crystal. He held it outward, allowing it to burn in the palm of his hand. Zeno closed his fingers around the gem and snuffed the flames. Magus Zeno Then he [you've already named him] opened his fingers dramatically to reveal black flames that licked upward and darkened the room yet again.

“Now Feria, does anything in the arsenal of light compare to shadowflame?” Magus Zeno asked. His voice was especially proud, and his black eyed flicked around the room to search for objection.

“I... guess not.” Feria responded. She started to moved toward her seat with her eyes on the floor.

“Oh, wait just another minute sparkles what sparkles?, we haven't finished,” Magus Zeno said. He clapped a hand down onto her shoulder which stopped her in place [stating the obvious]. A few chuckles erupted from around the classroom at the insult to light mages. Feria shrugged Magus Zeno's hand from her shoulder, and stood with a dejected look on her face.

Mason looked at the poor girl with empathy; public humiliation was something he lived with nearly everyday, and it had never gotten any easier. He felt that he needed to interfere somehow – to try and save Feria from the wild laughter that he knew was coming. He looked over to Zek as he created a plan, but saw that Zek was no longer in his seat. Mason's eyes moved to the front of the room; he watched his friend makde his way through the aisles of desks and onlookers.

“You can sit down, Feria. I will help the good teacher with his lesson,” Zek said in a cold tone. Mason saw that the shadow mage had locked eyes with Zek, who stood in a short length robe with a single long sleeve. A small smile twisted on the lips of the Magus, and he nodded quickly in approval. Feria rushed back to her seat and rejoined the crowd.

“The amazing and powerful Zek Cain will now help demonstrate the power of my magic. How kind of him,” The instructor retorted in an equally cold tone. “Enough of this folly, let us see something truly mighty.”

Zek stood tall, and crossed his arms across his chest. Mason looked on with a mix of anticipation and panic; he was unsure what would happen next. His instructor's eyes went dark, and Zek stumbled as he stood in place. Mason saw his friend's eyes had gone black as well, but it was clearly not by his own doing. Zek placed his hands against the large desk behind him to steady himself. He shook his head, and he regained his balance.

“What are you doing, Magus?” Zek asked the instructor.

“One must be able to see clearly to cast with any true power, Cain,period” the shadow mage moved around the room with light footsteps as he spoke. “You have lost sight. You speak out of turn, and you have no respect for your superiors.”

“You are not my superior, Zeno. You are simply older than I am,” Zek replied. His head moved overuse of "move" slightly as if guessing where the Magus was.

“Zek, calm yourself and apologize!” Mason yelled out in an attempt to bring order to the situation.

“Quiet Drax, I am teaching a lesson,” The Magus said. He walked past Mason on his slow tour around the classroom.

Mason began to worry that the situation was getting far out of hand; his friend stood shadowblind and helpless. Against better judgment he got out of his seat, and he up and made his way towards Zek in an attempt to help him back to his desk. He walked with an anxious pace, and tried to hurry before the situation was beyond repair.

“Drax, get back to your seat or you will join in on this valuable lesson,” the instructor commanded with his voice full of anger. [stating the obvious]

“Magus, please... this needs to stop,” Mason said. He stopped in place, and turned toward the shadow mage.

“I will not warn you again, Mason. Sit down,” Magus Zeno warned once again.

Mason's brow furrowed, and he turned his head to Zek. His friend's eyes were aimed toward the ground, and he appeared to be absorbing everything he heard. It was more than Mason could stand, and anger rose inside him. He defiantly turned his body, and began to jog toward the front of the room. The world dissolved to blackness before his eyes. awkward--rephrase? Mason let out a small yelp as he crashed into a desk and fell to the floor.

The next thing Mason heard was a gasp from the students around him. There was a sizzling zap, and a crashing sound came from the wall behind him. The blindness faded from him slowly; he watched Zek's boots move towards him, and felt his friend helping him to stand. Mason saw that Zek's eyes had returned to an everyday crimson, but his face was twisted in pain. Zek's hand rested upon his sleeved shoulder, and he turned to inspect the instructor who laid on the floor.

“Zek, how did you do that?” Feria stood and asked with a voice full of wonder.

“Magic,” Zek said, with a smile that masked his pain out of POV.

Mason moved to where Magus Zeno lay, and helped Zek to hoist him up. He noticed the shadow mage's robe still smoldered around twin holes that now decorated his chest. The instructor was also in a great deal of pain how does Mason know that?, but the look on his face was more of fear than anything else. Mason let go of his arm; immediately Zeno took a step towards Zek.

“I know what you are now Cain, and be sure the masters will hear of this,” Magus Zeno said. “There is no natural counter to shadow blindness,” he finished, and quickly made his way out of the room.

Mason looked to Zek with an obvious need of for (an) explanation. Confused and dazed from his fall, he was still trying to put the pieces of the scene back together in his mind. It was apparent to him that understand; Zek had thrown the instructor into the wall with energy, but what he had heard he knew to be correct - when there was no known magical counter for shadow blindness.

“Mason, we need to go. I have things to tell you,” Zek said, still clutching his own shoulder. He began to As he walked from the room, and the class followed him with their eyes in amazement.

“Zek, what are we doing?” Mason asked as he followed [repetitive] trailing him.

“I can explain everything, trust me brother,” Zek replied. They made their way into the long hallway, and they headed once again towards the exit of the university. Upon passing an empty classroom, Zek motioned towards it, and they went together into the darkness.

Mason stayed quiet for a moment. He looked around the abandoned classroom. doesn't add muh He knew that Zek was scared; he could see it written all over him. Perhaps it was the mixture of fear and injury, but he had never seen his friend so vulnerable all at once. Mason gave him a few quiet moments to collect his thoughts.

“I have something to tell you Mason, you aren't going to like it,” Zek said.

“What is it Zek? What happened in there?” Mason asked.

“It's not really about what happened in class... well, it is, but there's also something much bigger going on,” Zek started again, looking into Mason's eyes. “I have been looking for a way out of Arc, been looking3xlooking for years. I almost gave up, Mason. I had tried everything.”

“It's okay Zek, don't worry about that. We're going to find a way out together one day,” Mason assured him. “Now let me see your arm.”

“Just listen Mason, it's about this too,” Zek said. He pulled his hand away for a moment, and his fingertips burned a fiery red. He seared a line across his sleeve and tore it from the robe. A dry wound which appeared filthy and infected marred the arm. “This is how I stopped Zeno - I had to counter the blindness.”

“But there is no--” Mason started to argue, but was cut off.

“There is no natural counter to the blindness, Mason, you know that. I had to break the rules,” Zek explained. “I was searching for a way out; the exiles found me in the dark, and they showed me the way.”

Mason remained quiet and really repetitive tried to make sense of it all. He didn't want to believe that the words were true; he wanted to wake up from this bad dream and find himself once again in the comfortable chair with a book across his lap. He just wanted to open his eyes and see dust flitting about in beams of light from the windows of the Drax estate. As much as he hoped, this was a dream he could not shake - he looked into the eyes of his long time friend and let out a sigh of disappointment. wordiness & diminishes the little drama there is

“Mason, I know it wasn't right, but it was the only way to save us,” Zek tried to explain. 'telling' the obvious

“Save us?” Mason asked in disbelief. “Zek, you've destroyed everything! The Feltower guards are going to take you away just like my father! We will never see each other again!”

“No, Mason, I will not let that happen,” Zek said with surprising anger in his voice. He visibly had to calm himself for a moment; his eyes briefly gave off a purple glow. “This is the night, brother. Tonight we will leave the city of Arc and begin the lives that we were meant to lead.”

The sincerity in Zek's voice gave a pause to all of Mason's doubts. For a brief moment, he imagined walking away from a bright bubble on the horizon and into the wild. Mason didn't like the path that Zek had taken, but he knew that his own plans to escape the city were nothing more than hopes and dreams. His friend had secretly searched for years for a safe way out, and Mason trusted that Zek would not have taken this way had there been a better option. In the end, Zek had come to tell him the truth as a brother, and Mason forgave him.'telling'

“Okay Zek, you asked for my trust, you have it once again,” Mason said. “Tell me the plan.”

“Head to the Drax estate. Take only what you need; we must travel light,” Zek said with his hand on his wounded shoulder.

“Where do we meet?” Mason asked.

“I will meet you behind the estate as the suns set. I must deal first with the Feltower to be sure we are not followed,” Zek replied.

“Be careful Zek. Don't get yourself hurt.” Mason said with his arm clapping down onto Zek's good shoulder.

“It's the guards you should be more worried about.” Zek replied. A dark smile crossed his face, and a glint of purple flashed in his eyes.
41
41
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with  
Rated: E | (3.0)
Review: The Ternion, Ch 2, by Frank Moricz

Hi again. As usual, while my comments are helpfully meant they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. OK? So here goes:

It's a great story and a potentially great chapter--well worth working on, so I've made lots of suggestions--please don't be discouraged or put off by all the red ink.

PLOT--There was the potential for conflict but as it's written there wasn't enough conflict in my view; partially this is due to a lack of a really urgent need of the POV-character (see below under Characters) and partially to the deus ex machina-like appearance of the exiles just when they're needed; working on the character and fore-shadowing the exiles/their ability to cross the barrier in earlier chapters might help. In the second scene the stakes must be high, the inner struggle intensified and in my view there should be clear loss as well; finally the outcome wasn't clear to me--success or disaster? Finally you need to work towards an opening that catches our interest and a closing hook in my view.

REFERENCES--Cain as in the biblical Cain? And Animus as in Jungian (I think) theory? are these intended references?

CHARACTERS--Zek as the POV character; the silver hair had me confused, it made me think Zek is old now? I wonder whether Zek is really important enough to be a POV-character; will there be a sizeable part of the story from his POV? If not reconsider as every new POV character makes it more difficult to focus on the main character whom we should be cheering on? And I think you'll irritate most readers by trying to keep a part of the POV character's thoughts secret. Instead, tell us in paragraph one the great news...Zek has found a way out or whatever...then the rest will read much more logically in my view--but see what others say? Zek's motivation for getting out seemed a bit vague--because Mason wants to get out/to get more power. I somehow didn't buy it. For one I don't think characters whose sole motivation is to help the protagonist are a good idea: Zek seemed real before but here he feels flat. Secondly he didn't strike me as particularly power-hungry earlier, so it's not very believable now. His motivation should be an urgent need, with a lot at stake if he fails to get out, and it needs to be established in earlier chapters in my view. In the 2nd scene I'd emphasize his fears to create more internal conflict.
The outward appearance of the exiles and their telepathy were nice touches--why do they speak later though.

SETTING--
I think you need a transition, to tell the reader the time & place so we know how much time has passed since the last scene & whether we're in the same or a different place.
The setting was not bad but there was some 'telling' and overall it felt kind of vague. To convince us this is a real place be more specific and try to use senses other than sight as well?
World-building: You clearly have developed something new and unique here. You asked if the concepts within your fantasy world are understood and what kinds of questions do the readers ask while reading? I'm afraid I'm still not clear on how the crystals work. And earlier I thought crystal magic was very rare/other elemental magic more common, but in this chapter it seems to be the only type there is? I also wondered why the arcane are imprisoned and why no-one but Zek and Mason seems to mind? And if it's the case everyone accepts the barrier unquestioningly, why don't they?

STYLE & GRAMMAR--some vagueness & wordiness. Try to avoid weak words like feel/sense and generally words of Latin or Greek origin would be my advice, and try to be as specific as possible?

OVERALL--Finally I felt the chapter might work better in 'historical' order i.e. no flash-backs, but that's just my opinion--see what others say. For now my rating has to reflect there's work to be done. But please do let me know when you've revised and I'll gladly re-rate/review. Good story--I'll definitely read on.


Keep writing!
love

Nok

IN-LINE REVIEW

Authorapostrophe in my views note: Before reading this, please read "The Ternion Prologue" and "The Ternion - Chapter 1" yep, done that


I am looking for ratings and reviews involving character development, setting, flow, and anything else you think that would help. This chapter is a bit shorter, but is a turning point in the exposition of the main plot of the story.

This is the story in its original form, I am playing with the idea of making it more linerlinear? and eliminating flashbacks. If you choose to rate it, please let me know what you think about that idea, and why.I'd put this information & question perhaps at the end as it influences the first reading?



Chapter 2 - Zek Cain: Animus Unraveled Cain as in the biblical Cain? And Animus as in Jungian (I think) theory? are these intended references?


In this great city of...? remind us of the name?, for all its splendor doesn't really bring an image to mind? be more specific...for all it's golden-roofed temples or whatever...or be ruthless and cut?, Zek had always felt trapped. Everyone knew what a large world they lived upon; history lessons had made it clear that Aura was a huge unspecific again...largest planet in the solar system? biggest shipping yard and haven on the continent?...specify or cut? place, and she was filled with life and greenery feels wrong, it has the form of a list A & B (like e.g. sight & sound) where we expect B not to equal A, but greenery is actually an example of life, if you see what I mean? and as an evocation of past glory it's too vague to work. Rephrase? once upon a timetoo vague--at least say how many millennia ago. Zek never understood how arcane people could be so complacent to be trapped in this bubble. He marveled at how they never seemed curious about the people or places outside.which people? which places?

There was great beauty 'telling'--show us instead? around him; each stone was carved with masterful ability carved...into what?. The arcane had adapted to life without abundant wood for building, and over the generations the arcane crafters had become quite adept at cutting into the rock. A proud mountain of white stone had once stood as the center of Arc City; though now it was hollow, and the remains of the mountain now held the arena. The bones of Aura were now laid around Arc City in the shape of shops and roads.finally--see, you can do it, the last sentence especially, I love 'bones'

The mountain had also served another purpose; the arcane were able to make use of the crystal found within the stones. Arcane blood could mingle with the seemingly lifeless gems, and each color of crystal would display its own incredible properties. With a simple touch they could activate the power hidden within, and the raw crystal would give them the ability to create light, flame, and water to sustain them. It was through the understanding of crystal that the university had eventually emerged; it taught the arcane to harness the crystal within themselves.good world-building but feels like info dump-feed it to us bit by bit, please?

Zek passed through the Market District, and he walked through long shadows cast by the setting suns passed through A/walked through B--again sounds like the same level/category, but it's not. He brushed away a silver lock of hair have years passed & he's old now?, and sighed quietly unnecessary in my view. Looking upward, he watched the magic dome over Arc City churn like the surface of waternice. The light waned away, and the deep blue shield slowly unnecessary faded to black. Zek returned his eyes to the path ahead, and he saw how it twisted and turned through rough streets of old stone.nice, but is the path important?

The walk away from the old Drax estate was solemn; Zek argued internally as he moved through the heart of the city.too 'telling' in my view A part of him wanted to tell Mason everything he had been doing, and he hoped that his friend would understand or perhaps even encourage him. There was also a nagging logic that kept him quiet, and told him that Mason would never understand what he was doing; if that were the case then Zek would lose his only true friend. In the end, he decided that staying quiet was not the same as a lie, and he would have to wait until his idea had played out for better or worse.

Mason had always been there for him in a way that nobody else could have understood. Perhaps it was the power Zek had command over; it had given others the illusion that he was invincible, but Zek felt that Mason knew him for the person he really was. The boys had both lost their parents, and grew up as a team. Over the years they had become as close as brothers. It was a difficult decision for Zek to hide his actions from such a friend.this felt too long in my view, shorten?

He knew that Mason would never have been able to breach the aegis or escape on his own. For years, Zek had searched for weaknesses in the wall; in secret he had taken his time alone to attack the shield with every magic he could conjure, but he had never made any progress. Almost every night, he had walked to a new section of the large circle that surrounded the city, but he had found no weakness. The shield was thick; it obscured the sight of everything beyond it with a wavy haze, and he was constantly being taunted by the trees and strange creatures which lay just outside how? you've just told us that everything is obscured?. In frustration and despair, Zek had all but pounded against the barrier with his fists in an attempt to shatter it. this is when I felt confused by the back and forth--I think you'll irritate most readers by trying to keep a part of the POV character's thoughts secret--tell us in paragraph one the great news...Zek has found a way out or whatever...then the rest will read much more logically in my view--but see what others say?

It had been three days since he was first approached by the hooded men known as exiles. They had found him out-of-breath, and drained from an explosive barrage of magic that was fueled by frustration. Zek had reached a breaking point; after so much time spent without progress he felt that his quest was hopeless. The exiles were able to rekindle his hope with their presence – Zek was tempted by their knowledge of the forbidden magic known as “soul magic”. that feels a bit deus ex machina to me--foreshadow in earlier chapters?

According to rumor, soul magic used much more than just the blood of an arcane. The cost became more apparent to Zek when he had looked upon these exiles; they gathered around him with milky skin and scabrous faces to deliver an invitation. The words were never spoken aloud – though Zek felt the words within his head, and they played to him like a song in his own mind.

'We know who you are, Zek Cain. We know of your power, and we know what you desire. Come to this place at this time tomorrow, and find the answer that you seek.'

Zek had shown up the next day, and met with a different exilehow does he know if he's hooded?. The man spoke aloud from beneath a tattered cloak which hid all but his pale jaw. He beckoned for Zek to follow, and showed him the hidden entrance to the corridor of the soul mages. a bit more on setting would be nice? feels to sparse...hidden how?

Before he could leave, the exile secured from Zek an oath of secrecy. It was explained that his own life would not be the only one forfeit if the oath was broken who else would die? clarify?; if he were to join them he would need only to show up and enter here the following night.

The night had finally come, and Zek walked once again to the hidden door in the ancient district. It was said that this area was sacred, and that arcane history began in this place. To look at it now, it was all but destroyed by time, and abandoned as the arcane had spread to other districts. The place gave Zek the feeling that he was wandering into the past. The stone here was clearly cut with a lack of skill, or simply remained uncut. Few structures around him remained standing, and he saw mostly remnants of walls with uneven holes that once served as windows.not bad, but try to be more specific and to use other senses as well?

The suns were now set, and nearly all light was lost between the ruined buildings and high walls that still stood amidst shadowed rubble. Zek willed his hands to glow with beams of light, and he scanned the area in front of him. The path became rockier, and it made progress slow too abstract, use stronger words like getting bogged down for swamp, use online thesaurus? as he trudged through a sea of stones. He finally reached his destination - a door of ruin meaning unclear? that seemed to lean against a pile of natural rock as opposed to unnatural rock? *Smile* And wasn't it hidden?.

With nobody in sight, Zek pried open the door, and he slowly closed it behind him. He descended the old stairway, and made his way into the narrow corridor. His hands began burn with blue flames, and the corridor exploded literally? with a flickering light. The fire moved with an unnaturalas opposed to what? slowness, and licked its way from his forearms to the fingertips. Zek attempted to pushed [wordiness] aside his fears, and he delved deeper into the tunnel.

His thoughts turned to his objective. [wordiness] The exiles had offered him the answer to his question, and he could only hope that his riddle would be solved tonight. To breach the shield and escape with Mason had been his quest for so long that Zek had almost forgotten his own reasons. Mason had wanted it so badly, and Zek aimed to get them both away from the arcane cage; though for Zek it was not to explore or to find peace - he wanted to find a place where he could learn of true power, and he felt it call to him from beyond the aegis.didn't feel believable to me--what's at stake here?

Zek knew that the exiles guarded their secret closely. He asked himself why anyone would use a magic that would destroy their body so badly, but the only answer he could muster was that their power must somehow be worth the sacrifice to have it.I don't follow this logic, by the same logic e.g. heroin or meth use must be worth it? He had no idea what to expect with a magic he had hardly heard of; he only knew that if these exiles could teach him to get beyond the wall - he would sacrifice much to learn.

He neared the end of the narrow hall, and the smell of decay was becoming more pronounced growing stronger? [stick to Germanic/Anglo-Saxon origin words, they're usually stronger than Latin or Greek-derived words]. The doorway ahead of him opened into a round room, which was lined with benches of crude stone. Red crystals on the walls were alive with magical fire; they burned blood-red and created ominous shadows that danced in all directions. Zek stepped onto the threshold, and he focused to let the fire from his arms burn away. He stopped in the doorway, and took in the scene in front of him.

A crowd of hooded men with matching robes stood silently within the large room. As if they detected his presence, the exiles turned toward him in unison. Zek felt a bit out-of-place with his young skin and modern apparel. He stood fast, and waited for something to happen.

“Zek Cain!” a voice echoed suddenly from the crowd. “A new initiate comes, and we welcome him,” the voice went on. Zek noticed that the wavering voice sounded as old as the stone which lined the room.

“Thank you,” Zek replied. He watched as the group began to move. [wordiness] The men slowly walked toward the outer rim of the room, except for a single exile that whom Zek guessed to be the leader.

“Come forward, son of Cain, and find the answers you have sought,” The soul mage commanded. His hand reached out slowly in friendship. The hood fell from his head, and revealed a face which showed incredible age 'telling
--show us instead?. His frail hand was decorated with long fingernails that were yellowed by time, but his wrinkled skin seemed to be free of the wounds he had seen on the others.

Zek stepped toward him slowly. His glance moved from side to side as the other exiles stood and watched on. The silence was unnerving. Zek had almost started to regret his decision to come here,why? because they're looking? unclear but it was far too late to decide against it now. He reached the old mage, and he took a frail hand you've had "frail hand" above already into his own; it felt as delicate as old parchment. Zek's red eyes POV slip--he can't see himself studied the man's face, and he noticed that the old man's eyes were white with blindness.

'Kneel!' voices screamed in Zek's head. His knee fell to the ground as if he was thrown down. He struggled against the force, but he could not bring himself to stand. Zek felt the muscles in his legs tense, and he felt 2x felt, which is a weak verb anyway--rephrase without as if he was frozen solid.

“I give you warning, son of Cain,” the old man began to speak. “We offer much, all you wish to know and more. You will live as I have, many times the life of an arcane. This knowledge will come at cost, of how much I cannot say.”

“What knowledge would you give me?” Zek asked.

“All that you desire and more. Long you have searched for what we have, and have not yet known it. I mean to show you this truth,” The the elder replied. “Do you accept this gift?”

“I accept,” Zek said. “Now, tell me what I wish to know.”

The old man removed his hand from Zek, and he instantly felt the release of his binding. He remained kneeling, and looked up towards the elder to await an answer. The man looked down onto him with his white eyes, which Zek saw slowly start to swirl with a dark purple color. The room around him begin to darken, and a sense of power filled the very air around him.

Zek watched the man again raise his hand slightly, and saw that his palm glowed with the same purple color. The man placed his palm on the top of Zek's head. He felt an agony that coursed through him, and he saw flashes of images flashed in his mind. The sound of screams filled his ears. Thoughts and dreams passed through him; memories which seemed forgotten were remembered, and the world shook around him. The room darkened and began to fade away, and Zek realized that the screams he had heard were his own.nice

* * *


Zek found himself leaned against a wall. He now sat on one of the cracked stone benches he had noticed before. His head swirled, and he leaned 2x leaned back on the wall with his eyes closed in pain. He could hear his heartbeat boom{{c:red}edx}ing in his ears, and Zek wondered how long he had been unconscious. Every throb in his head came with flashes of images that faded away before he could make sense of them. Zek felt different; somehow he felt wrong on the inside. The feeling slowly began to passed, and the pain faded along with the pictures in his mind. Zek stayed still for a moment before he rubbed his eyes to take a look around. tighten the prose--cut at least half the words, better two-thirds

Sitting next to him on the bench, he noticed a dark robe like that of the others a dark robe ...sat .... He picked it up, and noticed found an ancient looking book wrapped within it. He examined it briefly, and he knew that he had never seen an older book in his life. The cover seemed to be stitched together by hand; the symbols appeared to be painted onto it with a black liquid instead of being scalded into it like other books. Instead of answers, Zek felt that he was now left with even more questions. Zek wrapped the book within the robe once again, and brought his attention back to the exiles.

He saw that the group was again staring at him intently from the center of the room. They moved again toward the walls, and they took their positions once again. 2x again Zek placed the bundled robe onto his lap with the book still within it. Exiles now sat on either side of him, though their eyes were fixed on the center of the room; the elder addressed the group.

“Too many lives I have lived, and too much I have lost in that time. I have stayed with you all until a new initiate was found, and now my soul must pass to another,” The the man said. “The speaker shall now come forth.”

The man sitting to the left of Zek stood, and he pulled back his hood. His face was worn, and covered in red sores. Zek recognized him as the man who had spoken to him the previous night, and had secured his oath. The exile shrugged the robe from his shoulders, and revealed his naked body - spotted with bruises and wounds, and caked with filth.nice

The elder knelt, and he who? waited in silence for the man to approach. The speaker walked behind the elder, and his pale skin seemed painted red in the flickering light of the crystal flames. He laid hands on each side of the elder's face; both men had eyes that now swirled with a purple glow. The crowd looked on, and the old man became progressively thinner. Zek noticed his swirling eyes returned to a blind white before they closed. He watched the elder's skin flake away in an invisible breeze and flutter upward. With a start, he realized that the speaker's wounds were now completely gone.

The speaker's hands remained in place with an indigo aura about them. His skin now looked perfect in the firelight, and he appeared much younger than he had before. He opened his eyes, and revealed a bright flash of purple which quickly dissipated; his young eyes suddenly became a very common brown. Without a word, he stooped and picked up the robe which now lay at his feet, and he wrapped himself.

“Come forth, son of Cain,” The speaker said. Zek stood slowly, and held the bundle of robe beneath his arm. “My soul is now with this speaker, who is the new Soul Master.” how many speakers are there? I'm confused

“You said this magic comes at a cost...” Zek started to ask, but was cut off by a gesture that commanded his quiet [wordiness].

“Each time this magic is used, we must make a sacrifice. We do not choose what is lost - sometimes it is small, at other times it is not...” the new master began to explain. “It may be as simple as a memory, or a feeling, it may be as great as years from our lives. As you learn from us, we will show you how to master the knowledge you have just been given and control yourself.”

“Just been given? You mean to say I have this power now?” Zek asked.

“Arcane have always had this power, we simply enlightened you,” The the master explained. “The book you carry holds the answers you seek, the true and complete history of the arcane, and their ascension to the surface, and the truth of Orin from the ancient days.”

Zek pulled the book from his bundle, and he opened it to reveal parchment that looked impossibly old. He examined the words within the pages, while the exiles looked on anxiously. POV slip Zek carefully turned the pages in silence. His eyes scanned over the creation of Arc city, and the arcane rise from the dust. The page flipped again, and Zek's eyes went wide; finally, he understood the secret of the shield, and how it was created.

“The shield--” Zek started.

“Now you understand. You understand why you were chosen and why you were brought here,” The the master interrupted.

“Yes, I understand now,3x understand” Zek said, and closed the book carefully.
42
42
Review of Synopsis Workshop  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hello, I'll review your synopsis as a fellow participant of the novel workshop. Just keep in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. OK? So here goes:

JUST MY PERSONAL OPINION--Good synopsis--I found really only minor things.

Keep writing!
love

Nok

PS I've completely revised my own synopsis--I'd appreciate it if you'd take a look? But no pressure *Smile*

IN-LINE COMMENTS

Just before her thirteenth birthday, Air Force brat, BETH MORGAN got the surprise of her life. Not only was she adopted, but she had a father and older brother—both celebrities in their own right. Always a ‘people-pleaser’, Beth decides to split her time between the two families. She maintains this separate but equal lifestyle for more than thirty years—keeping it secret even from her ex-husband.
If she thought she’d have an uneventful life after her divorce, she was wrong. Soon after it’s finalization, her sister-in-law is diagnosed with cancer and she spends the next four years doing what she can to make her sister-in-law comfortable and keeping her brother and nieces and nephews reasonably sane. This is a summary off previous book/s--cut?
The story begins about a year after her sister-in-law’s death. This is where the Synopsis starts--character's full name in caps, occupation, defining attribute... She is living a solitary life in the Connecticut countryside, when her Grammy winning brother, RICHARD EMERY, convinces her to meet him in New York...
...
Driving in a rainstorm and distraught over his decision to leave Beth, Andrew wrecks his car and winds up in the hospital. He wakes up to find Beth standing over him. Then he crushes her by unceremoniously sending her away. He believes she’ll get over him. A few weeks later Richard informs him otherwise. Beth has spiraled into a major depression and abandoned her from her art classes and charity duties.
...
The men carry her back to the hotel, where she is sick most of the night. Mortified and sure Drew will never forgive her, Beth spends her second day in Washington recuperating and worrying about making it up to Andrew. She is dressed and waiting for them to go to lunch, when Andrew returns. But when she opens the door, two gun toting men follow him in. Together, she and Andrew deal with their captors—just as Jack and the cavalry arrives.
...
43
43
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi,

Before I start reviewing the usual cautions: I am still relatively new at writing and reviewing, and unpublished. So bear in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. Feel free to ignore them as you wish-–the author normally knows best.

So here goes:

GENERAL COMMENTS


Plot: you succeed to introduce the narrator and create suspense

Referencing: I noticed no problems, for the genre from the title and preface I'm guessing dark fantasy or perhaps horror

Style & Voice: good, I had only few comments, watch out for wordiness

Setting: perhaps add a hint to where the story will play out? Just a thought

Characters: the narrator

Grammar: no problems that I could see (but it’s admittedly not one of my strengths)

Just My Personal Opinion: good preface, it kindled my interest--just needs tightening a bit.

Keep on writing!
Love
Nok

IN-LINE COMMENTS

Some would say this a story of tragic events, some would say that it is call it [to avoid the repetition of 'say'] a heroic tale, but however you view this story, [wordiness] it is what it is. My name is Matt Lamar and I'm from a small town in Northern Indiana. This is my life story, or at least it once was. This is the story of how the normality of my life was altered. I’m about to tell you what happened to me and how it came to be. [wordiness] If you desire to know what happened to me, subsequently [wordiness] you’re going to have to read the story. It is to be said that [wordiness] some events are real, some characters are real people, and the plot line doesn’t fall too far from the truth. This tale of part truths may just explain many truths in which many never knew were truths. clarify? With this being said, enjoy the tale, and remember to expect what cannot be expected. Take caution or you'll end up in a coffin.
44
44
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (4.5)
Hi again,

Before I start reviewing the usual cautions: I am still relatively new at writing and reviewing, and unpublished. So bear in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. Feel free to ignore them as you wish –the author normally knows best.

So here goes:

GENERAL COMMENTS


Plot: Mason at school with his best friend Zek, who protects him against magic and the kids' cruel teasing

Referencing: no inconsistencies in my view

Style & Voice: good flow and nice dialogue, I had only few comments, see below

Setting: good work in my view

Characterization: I'd suggest to introduce the POV character right away by name. I could picture all characters well and sympathized with Mason, and liked Zek for defending him

Grammar: no problems that I could see (but it’s admittedly not one of my strengths)

Just My Personal Opinion: character development was good, as was setting, and flow. I didn't think this chapter was too undramatic, but if you want you could perhaps emphasize how the whole class hopes Mason will get hurt, make the teasing stronger after class and then perhaps let him relive in a flashback how his father was dragged out of his life, how alone he felt...also perhaps he thinks of shooting his tormentors when hitting targets and dreams not only of getting away but of doing heroic deeds that will restore the Drax name? But you know better what fits in with where your story's going. I'll definitely read on.

Keep on writing!
Love
Nok



IN-LINE COMMENTS





Chapter 1

Mason Drax: The Legacy




...

Reaching slowly down his side, Mason's hand found its way to his pocket, and his fingers wrapped around a tiny coin. Quietly, he pulled his arm back onto the desk, where his head still lay; period He flicked the coin towards Zek, which landed flat against his jaw. Startled and confused, Zek quickly sat up, the front legs of his chair hitting the hard floor with a loud thud as he landed.

Now having the undivided attention of the entire classroom, Zek flashed Mason a playful angry glance while Mason struggled to keep from laughing out loud. All eyes lay fixed? on Zek Cain in his black robe, with metal stitches that formed patterns throughout it to match his silver hair.

“Sorry.comma” Zek said, resulting in a few chuckles throughout the classroom.

“Zek Cain, Mason Drax, thank you for volunteering. Come to the front of the class please.comma” Magus Grey said, in his wavering ancient voice.

Mason's smile washed away in an instant, the last thing he wanted was to be part of a demonstration of magic in front of his peers. As he stood slowly, he noted that Zek already stood 2xstood to his side, and he felt Zek's hand slap him on the shoulder reassuringly. In their brown and black student robes, the pair moved to the front of the room.

...

Although he had the same crystal flowing through his blood, and was the son of an arena champion, Mason was never able to command over magic. It was not for lack of trying, Mason spent hours attempting to even perform the most basic abilities does one perform abilities? perhaps "use"? to no avail. From early on, word was spread and he was met with looks of bewilderment and superfluous space mockery. He was used to those eyes now, the eyes that looked through him as if he wasn't there, sometimes he found himself to prefer those eyes over the eyes 4xeyes of hate and contempt.
...
“Magus I--” Zek started to protest, since once again the mage had clearly forgotten that Mason would not be able to shield himself from the heat of the orb as even a child would.
...

Mason began to feel the heat of the orb, drastically rapidly? becoming greater and greater. He snapped his head to Zek who looked on,semi-colon or period Mason had a grave look of concern for his hands as he felt them begin to burn. As he stood there he heard quiet snickers from some of the class who waited and watched on while the old mage burned him. Still focused on Zek, he saw Zek give him a small smile and a wink, and Mason felt the orb began to cool almost instantly.
...
Clearly the demonstration had already gone too far. The old Magus was too focused on his task period So much so that he had forgotten to stop, and both Mason and Zek knew that this would not end well. Superheated, the sphere was slowly beginning to form small fractures, and there was such heat about it that live flames now began to cover the surface. The room was completely silent except for the occasional crackle of fire and the quiet creaking of the glassy sphere.

Again Mason looked to Zek as a feeling of doom set over him, but it seemed Zek was already in action as he noticed the eyes of his friend had turned a cold blue and his face showed concentration. All at once, the orb flew skyward toward the high ceiling, and Zek shot a hand out, a blast of ice encompassing the object and extinguishing the flames. The old Magus appeared lost and confused as the orb exploded overhead, with shards moving in all directions. Zek had both arms aimed upward as he kept control over every fragment, stopping each piece in place and bringing it back to the area overhead. An obvious strain overtook him as he struggled with the task, giving an audible groan as he split his focus across every piece. split seems to contradict focus--as he tried to control all pieces simultaneously?

As he released his grip on the shards, they came crashing down to the floor in a pile, again black as the night and cool to the touch. Mason watched as Zek shot an angry look toward the instructor, who now looked almost sad. Mason felt sorry for the old man for having lost so much in his years. Zek's hand was again on his shoulder, guiding him to the door as the class looked on with boisterous laughter. As they reached the door, Zek shot 2xshot a final look out over the classroom, his silent challenge immediately ending the laughter, and the room lay quiet once again.

They made their way down the old corridor which connected most of the wings of the Arcane University. The design of the hall was that of a giant archway, with ornate superfluous space pillars embedded within the walls, they seemed to reach up into the ceiling which was high overhead. The walls had designs and lettering which seemed 2xseemed ancient, burned into the textured surface with great precision and artistry. The high ceiling itself was decorated with images of inspiration and great deeds, a multicolored mural that showed the faces of arcane history.
...

“We'll see.” Zek replied, with barely a hint of a smile. Mason knew that Zek had no real desire to become a champion, though everyone had assumed with his talents that he would choose that path.check order--assumed that with his talents he would chose that path?

“Oh, it's not even a question Zek, in a few years it will probably be you that teaches the instructors.comma” the boy said with a smile to assure him. Zek just let out a quiet sigh in reply.

One of the other boys he was speaking to was peering around the pair, standing out in a bright red robe with yellow stitching. He seemed to be looking at Mason who was awkwardly standing 2x standing out-of-the-way while Zek was the center of attention.
...
“I don't think so.comma” Mason replied, noticing Zek seemed to already be shrugging the arm from his shoulders.
...
“Let's be off, Masoncomma” Zek said, turning to Mason and began to walk again towards the door.
...

He recalled his father rushing into the house that day, washing the crimson from his hands with his head bowed. He had went to his knee before Mason, and apologized as he embraced his eleven year old boy. Mason was quickly handed a transparent ring of pure crystal that his grandfather had made. Relik had never before removed it, but here it was being shoved into Mason's small hands while he was instructed simply to remember.
...

When Mason had first come to the University, and was put amongst the other orphans, his fame proceeded preceded him in that he was the son of a killer. The children around him were anything but friendly, and it only took a few days for them to discover that he was defenseless against magic. This had only made them tease even harder, and in one of these assaults a boy had meant to take his father's ring from him. When Mason struck the boy down with a fist, it was Zek who had appeared and literally saved him from the flames. It had been a little over eight years now and Mason smiled to realize that Zek was still saving him.

“I want so badly to get away from here Zek.comma” Mason confided again in his friend.

“I do as well Mason,period the arcane think this shield saves us from the outside, but I think it keeps us in a cage.comma” Zek replied.

“What do you think is really out there, in the wild-lands?” Mason asked with a look of curiosity.

“You should know, you spend more time trying to learn about it than anybody.comma” Zek replied with a smile.

“Do you think there's more of us out there? More arcane I mean?” Mason asked again.

“I would hope not.comma” Zek replied. “When we get out there I want to see some real power, I would like to bring back something new and useful.”

The conversation ended at that,semi-colon or period they walked on quietly as the road took them to their destination. Mason looked over the old Drax Estate, worn by time and lack of attention as it sat unoccupied. They stood at the edge of the property for a moment and gazed over their playground. They had set small objects about everywhere to serve as targets for Mason's game.

“You know the rules.comma” Mason said, scooping up a handful of small stones from the pile near his feet.

“No abilities, and whoever hits the most targets is the winner.comma” Zek replied, a grin growing across his face.
...

“Lets do this.comma” Mason said, and they both ran forward, Mason launching stones to his left, and Zek scattering his to the right. They ran laughing as the stones rained sideways from either side, the small targets around them clattering onto the hard ground. A small cloud of dust trailed behind them as they moved, quickly approaching the entryway of the old house. They stopped at the stairway as always, still laughing while they caught their breath.
...
“Better than yesterday at least, I hit twenty-four.comma” Zek replied.

“Forty-seven on my side.comma” Mason said.

“Of course.comma” Zek said. “You are such an anomaly Mason, I hope you can see that too.”
...
“No, and I'm being serious.comma” Zek responded. “If you take away the abilities from any arcane here, including me, nobody would stand a chance to compete with you.”

“Well I'm just glad you give me some credit.comma” Mason said.

“I know you don't like talking too much about him, Mason, but that is what truly made your father great. Here people put magic in such high regard, but your father showed them real power... he took away what they thought made them special, and relied on his inner strength.comma [or perhaps delete the speech tag?]” Zek said.

Mason stayed quiet, his finger slowly rubbing over the surface of his ring in quiet2x quiet memory. The mention of his father took him by surprise, but Mason had heard the stories of the arena battles, and knew what Zek had said was the truth. His father loved taking proud casters and turning their magic on them, or simply hitting them with a fist as they flourished and made a big show of themselves.
...
“Well, its time to be off Mason, the suns are going down.comma” Zek said. “I'll see you tomorrow morning as always.”

“Good night my friend.comma” Mason said, and began to walk away. As Zek walked 2xwalk down the path Mason went through the old doorway where wooden fragments still clung to the old hinges. He went inside, flopping down into an old 3xold cloth chair and he picked up a thick book from the stone table next to him. He opened the book to the place where he had left off the night before, marked with an old 4x marker that bore the Drax family seal. As he read along, his mind drifted away to the world outside the aegis. He imagined what his life would be outside the city of Arc, and he closed his eyes, and smiled.
45
45
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (4.5)
Hi,

Before I start reviewing the usual cautions: I am still relatively new at writing and reviewing, and unpublished. So bear in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. Feel free to ignore them as you wish –the author normally knows best.

So here goes:

GENERAL COMMENTS


Plot: full of drama and suspence

Referencing: good job establishing the fantasy genre, where magic is real

Style & Voice: eminently suited to (high) fantasy

Setting: nice mood & atmosphere at the opening, the arena was clearly described

Characterization: vivid appearances, detailed backgrounds

Grammar: no problems that I could see (but it’s admittedly not one of my strengths)

Just My Personal Opinion: Good prologue & introduction of the hero, I enjoyed reading this, thanks

Keep on writing!
Love
Nok



IN-LINE COMMENTS

The twin suns of planet Aura beat down, scorching the green lands with hot light. good sentence, establishing the fantasy setting suns beat down/scorching/hot light--isn't that a mite redundant? reconsider? With sharp towers and sheer walls, there was lay? rose? [more evocative, and 'was' has another meaning as 'existed'?] Just a thought... the great city of Arc;period A massive dome-shaped shield of magic covered the entire city,semi-colon or period it thwarted warded? off the heat and kept the citizens safe from what?, but also cut them off from journeying into the wild lands feels like a contradiction to the idyllic-sounding 'green lands' above? outside. In the very center of the city was a hollowed peak where a horde now gathered around a colossal ring, and filled the air with a clamor of applause.
...

Sitting next to Aiona was the wife of challenger Melios, Chantilla Fenred. Chantilla now stood, as was the custom, and waved to her husband as the fight was ready to commence. Her headband was a fine work of art which disappeared into her dark brown hair. A single tear ran from her dark eyes down her cheek, showing the worry that was also written on her fair face. She wore light yellow wrap to show support for her husbandapostrophes magic, her long sleeves hung heavy with the weight of dark colored beads.
...

At the center of attention stood the two mages, dressed in their combat apparel. Melios had donned a hooded robe with sleeves that had appeared to be torn off,...
...

Chantilla's fingers twined with Aiona's, their hands squeezing tight against one another in anticipation and fear. Each of the woman women had good reason to fear for the life of their husband,periodRelik was used to fighting fire mages and water mages, he was nearly untested against mages from the school of light. As for Melios, he had studied Relik and his past battles to probe for weaknesses and analyze his style; Aiona had noticed Chantilla and Melios near the front rows in a few of the most recent bouts.
...

Tears flowed from the crystal mages eyes as he sobbed openly, burying his head into her soft hair as he embraced her for the very last time. He kissed her cheek, still warm and wet from her tears. He drew himself back, looking over her face and nodded silently to affirm his promise. Relik stood and reached over Aiona to take the boy into his arms....

46
46
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
Hi,

Before I start reviewing the usual cautions: I am still relatively new at writing and reviewing, and unpublished. So bear in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. Feel free to ignore them as you wish –the author normally knows best.

I am currently outlining my own novel, so I'm interested in how other people approach this. Obviously an outline is not the finished novel, but I believe they share strengths & weaknesses? So here my impressions...

Just My Personal Opinion: I think it's a great story, scary horror at the beginning, and more of a ghost-tale feeling at the end. While Chapter 6 John's tale is probably the strongest part--great myth--it's also fairly obvious that there's an imbalance in quantity that needs to be addressed/corrected in the novel. A question mark remained for me regarding how exactly did the spirit get out of the jar/invited in by the girl? There seemed to be a number of possibilities...Then I was wondering whether your novel might not benefit from a single POV i.e. a main character...perhaps the detective? Just a thought. Lastly I wasn't quite sure how you wanted the reader to feel at the end...happy (the thugs are punished) or sad (for the girl who is being devoured by the spirit)? it felt kind of open-ended...great potential though, I enjoyed reading this.

Keep on writing!
Love
Nok

PS If you'd like to return the favour pls check out
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This item number is not valid.
#1663944 by Not Available.
but no pressure *Smile*
47
47
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: ASR | (4.0)
Review: Island of my heart, by Grace

Hi,

as you already know, I'm still fairly new at this and unpublished, so my comments are only suggestions for your consideration.

Plot: The I-narrator returns with her child to the island where she grew up; she had left to have the child against the wishes of her and her teenage lover's family, now the death of her mother made her return for the funeral; she sees her lover from a distance but avoids meeting him

I thought the back story quite interesting, but as the mother's dead I wasn't quite clear on what difficulty she is facing now? The moral disapproval of the community? Unclear. Also what does she fear from meeting the baby father? Unclear. That for me made that there's less suspense than there might have been , less of an incentive to read on.

Setting: Great job, using all senses

Characters: Respectable effort, good twist to describe the father through his traits in the daughter

References: No problems

Style & grammar: Good, except for overuse of fragments, see in-line review below

Overall: A good start for a novel.

Keep writing!
Love

Nok

In-line review



Island of My Heart









Three years ago I stood in this exact same spot, at this exact same time. Watching as the sun sank over the horizon fragment--rephrase?. My toes squished into the wet sand, as cold salt water rushed over my bare feet, spritzing my face with the stinging mist. Wind swept down the shore and tangled my long blonde hair. Blowing it across my facefragment--rephrase?; I pushed it back with my free hand.

The only thing different than the last time I had been on this seashore was that the little girl standing beside me was no longer in my belly.

I looked down at my dark haired angel; the angel I had almost given up. Thanking God that I hadn'tfragment--rephrase?. My amazing saving Gracefragment--rephrase?. She was everything to me, and leaving my family and this island was all worth it. The day I felt her move for the first time convinced me of that. Having her was the only smart decision I made that year. And she was the only one that gave me the strength to come back here to face my past.

Standing in front of the house I grew up in, and holding the hand of the reason I leftfragment--rephrase?; I can't believe I'm here. That I came back. It was finally time to bury my past-- along with my mother.

The sun had almost disappeared beneath the deep blue sea, and the crisp March air was cutting into my bones. I had forgotten how cold Dauphin Island got in the winterisn't March spring?. Gracie's hand felt frozen in mine; I lifted her up in my arms and hugged her close. Her wet sandy feet soaked the hips of my old Levi's.

...
Gracie let out a shout of glee and leaned toward the house as if this would somehow get us there faster. I laughed and started back up the beach. Swiping up the two pairs of sandals that we had left farther up the shorefragment--rephrase?; I reminded Gracie that she was required to eat her dinner before she was allowed dessert. Not that either one was any better than the other. Domino's pizza was not exactly Mom's homemade seafood gumbo.

I climbed the dune hills, ignoring the staircase that was set there for just such a purpose. Clara and I had always played on the hills, even though Mom had constantly warned against it. The dunes were meant to protect against high tides, we were told that playing on them would eventually flatten the hill. I had yet to figure out how two children could ruin something that was supposed to protect against crashing waves.

At the top of the dune I turned around. Swaying Gracie on my hip, I watched the last slice of orange sun sink into the water. I rubbed the gritty wet sand off her feet absently. I felt the weight of her head against my shoulder. Slowly I turned away, and another gust of wind rushed down the beach and bringing with it the low hum of a sweet voice. Entwined with the thrum of an old guitarfragment--rephrase?.

...
48
48
Review of The Prince  
for entry "Damien I: Chapter 2" 
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with Novel Review Group  
Rated: 18+ | (4.0)
Review: The Prince, Ch 2, by RedMage

Hi,

I am fairly new and unpublished. So while my comments are helpfully meant, please feel free to ignore them.

title: The Prince
chapter reviewed: 2
user name: RedMage

plot: Damien & Twitch are caught by the guards, but the leader Erich knows Damien, and believes his story that they are miller's apprentices; he tells Damien of a letter left for him by his dead father; good, suspenseful chapter, with a good hook at the end

characters: everybody acting in character as far as I can tell, the POV wavered a bit, see In-line review below

grammar: no problems that I could see

style/voice: There are a number of habits in your writing, which bear watching in my view.

Switching subject mid-sentence-- Example: "[Subject 1]The street was Lined with the parlors of Tattoo Artists,and [Subject 2]the boys] they had yet to cross it."

Back-loading sentences--makes understanding who's the subject difficult. Example 1: "Lowering his hand a little Damien looked at the guard." In principle OK, but you overuse the form where it's basically doing x,y,and z, A did b. Try more often A did b AND did x,y, and z.

There were also some fragments--normally a sentence needs Subject and verb.

setting: OK for the story in my view

overall: good chapter, you're off to an intriguing start

Keep writing!
Love

Nok

IN-LINE REVIEW

Chapter 2



Again they found themselves hiding.in whose POV are we? A pair of barrels this timefragment, Damien and Twitch kept as still as they couldfeels like we're in 2 heads at once or in omniscient?.



Deep in the Meridian now, they were close to the street that was the district’s namesake. Lined with the parlors of Tattoo Artists, they had yet to cross it subject switch mid-sentence. And it had not been for fear of the magical symbols the Artists inscribed upon human flesh that they had not crossed Meridian street; no, Damien had long since dissuaded his friends of that particular notion of the criminal consciousness. Simply, they had been unable to reach it.



The long run beginning to toll on the boys, Damien and Twitch had been forced to find refuge in a small market square just a block north of the Meridian. All five of them "them"--who? now searching the square, they had not yet come to the spot where the boys were hiding. Praying to heaven like he had never prayed before, Damien hoped they could sneak out and double back down the way they’d come. If they could just cross the Meridian they would soon find better hiding places.



Tapping Twitch on the shoulder, Damien jerked his chin. The first to turn, he almost ran into a guardsman’s high boots as he rose from a crouch. odd sequence, makes difficult reading, better follow the time sequence e.g. "Damien rose...turned and almost ran..."?



Screaming despite himself, Damien fell back. Raising a hand over his face, he waited for the blow to fall. Instead all that he received was a laugh.



“Damien? Damien Bynae?” said the guard. “I can’t believe it! Is that really you boy?”



Lowering his hand a little Damien looked at the guard. Longer, grayer hair than he remembered, but it was still the same Erich he remembered. 2x remember “E-Erich?” he stutteredstating the obvious. “Wha-what are you doing here?”



“Me?” said the manErich, laughing. “It should be me who’s asking you. I’m a guard, remember?” Sticking out a hand, he pulled Damien to his feet. His voice rising with excitementout of POV, Erich said, “How’ve you been, boy? We’ve all been worried sick over you. Good Lord, the boys will sure be glad when I tell them I’ve seen you. Heck, so will I; half of them didn’t think you’d last the winter and now they owe me money. Always said you were a survivor Damien and, what do you know, you are! How’ve you been?”



Slowly the other guards were gathering. Much younger than Erich, none of them looked to be older than twenty-five. He knew none of them. In the middle of them all, Twitch at his side, Damien glanced nervously around the tightening circle. Could Erich, would Erich, get them out of this? He was a lieutenant; would his evident fondness for him superseded his sense of duty, of honor? There was only one way to know.



Smiling, Damien assumed an air of light heartedness. “Well, you know, I’ve been alright. Doing for myself before others can do for me.” He paused to laugh. “I’m doing good Erich. How ‘bout yourself? A guard you say? I never knew.”



Erich guffawing, he Guffawing, Erich rolled his eyes. “Same old Damien. Funny as hell.” A broad smile on his lips, Erich shook his head.



“Uh, sir,” said one of the other guards. “Don’t you think we should be questioning these boys? I mean, it is rather late for them to be out and…well, uh…” The man's voice fell off under Erich’s gaze.



“We, we were chasing them,” said a second guard. Erich staring avoid switching subject, perhaps "as Erich stared" at him, the guard swallowed. “Sir.”



Looking around at the other men in the patrol Damien saw them all nodding. There was even some muttering and shuffling of feet. With a sigh Erich nodded to them. The others quieting, their lieutenant said, “Alright boys, you know I’ve got to ask. What are you doing out so late?”



“Uh…,” said Twitch, opening his mouth for the first time as Erich looked at him directly.



“Returning home from work,” said Damien. The lie forming in his mind in an instant, he just let it roll off his tongue. “You know, some of the bakers around the city like their grain freshly milled whenever they can get it. So our employer, he gets us up just around sundown and,” he gave a slightly exaggerated shrug, “you know.”



“Millers,” said one of the guards. “You two?”



“Yeah,” said Twitch. He took a step towards the guard. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”



Laughing, the guard raised his hands, palms out. “No, no, nothing wrong with it, nothing at all. Just, you’re rather dirty for a miller, ain’t you?”



“Milling’s a dirtier job than you’d expect,” Damien answered quickly. He laid a hand on Twitch’s shoulder, gripping it firmly but in what he hoped appeared to be a brotherly fashion. He prayed Twitch would get the signal. With him and Feather though, you just never knew.never knew what? clarify?



Twitch glanced up at him however, saw him grinning at the guards, and took a step back. “Yeah, real dirty,” he said.



“How odd,” said yet another guard. “Those millers I know, they never seem to be very dirty. Now why do you think that is?”



“They change before they leave work?” said Twitch.



If Twitch had expected a laugh then he was sorely disappointed. with The five guardsmen just staring at them, Damien prepared himself for the worst.



“Hold, hold!” said Erich suddenly. Stepping forward, he interposed himself between the boys and his men. “If Damien says he’s a miller then I believe him. He’s never lied to me before and I’ve known him for a long time. Longer than any of you, I might add.” despite The men muttering again, Erich turned to Damien. Placing a hand on his shoulder he said, “I’m glad you survived comma Damien. I was down on my knees every week in the Chapel praying that you would. Glad, too, that you’ve found a profession. And a good one at that!”



Damien ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well.”



Rising, Erich smiled. “Tell you what, come down to The Boots sometime. Me and the boys drink there you know. They’d love to see you again. Not to mention the chance to see their old lieutenant lose at Tiles to a mere boy.”



Once again Damien laughed. “Well, I am a bit out of practice these days.”



“Really?” asked Erich, astonished. “You? Well, I’ve learned a thing or two since we last played so maybe, just maybe, the combination of the two will give me a fighting chance. Eh? What do you say, Damien? Come down to the tavern sometime? Give this old dog a run for his money?”



Laughing once again, Damien agreed. It would be good to see his old friends, and to play Tiles again… “Yes, I’ll definitely come. I don’t know when, but,no commma here in my view I will come.”



“Good! Glad to hear it. Come by round, oh say, three hours after sunset. That’s when that the lads and I usually get together.”



“Just before the shift change? Sure, I can do that.”



“Great, well, I guess I’ll see you there.”



“Yeah, see you there.”



(With) Erich making way for them, Damien led Twitch between the guardsmen. paragraph break “What? We’re letting them go? Just like that?”



Already halfway across the small square Damien called over his shoulder, “See you later Erich!”



“Bye Damien!”



“But sir!” The sound of the younger guardsmen’s complaints followed them as the two boys turned back onto the main street. Glancing down at Twitch, Damien couldn’t keep the grin from his face. They rounded a corner then, and were lost from the guards’ sights sounds like a slip into the guards' POV.



“Whew, that was close!” said Twitch.



“Shh,” whispered Damien. “Keep your voice down. We’re still in within? earshot.”



They were halfway to the end of the block when they heard the crunch of snow behind them. Stopping, they turned to see Erich running up to them. “I almost forgot,” said the guard when he reached them. “The Marshal has a letter for you.”



“A letter?” asked Damien.



“Yeah. Rumor is that when they cleaned out you and your father’s quarters, they found a letter tucked away in that big desk your old man had. From what I hear, it’s addressed to you.”



Damien felt cold. The warmth of his run having long since faded, it had been replaced by that warm feeling of meeting an old friend. But now, all that was gone. A distant memory fragment. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck growing stiff as goose bumps spread over his skin from head to toe, the feelings he was experiencing had nothing to do with the weather.



A letter? Addressed to him? It could only be from one person. And the Marshal had kept it this entire year? With him, in his personal custody?



An anger Damien had not felt in many months now crept into his heart. Like a fire had been kindled within him, he was warm again, the heat of his anger spreading through him in an instant.



“A letter,” he said again. His fists clenched at his sides, Damien struggled to control himself. He had no right. No right to keep that from him.



“That’s what I just said,” said Erich. “Damien, are you alright?”



“I, I’m fine. Why, why wouldn’t I be?”



“You sure? You just look, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”



Looking down, Damien shook his head. “No. I haven’t.”



“Sure?”



“Yes.”



“Alright, well, just thought I’d let you know. You can go pick it up whenever you want. I’m sure the Marshal would be happy to see you.”



“Yeah. The Marshal.”



Still not looking at his old friend, Damien nevertheless felt Erich’s eyes on him. “Well, I’d better get going,” the lieutenant said after a minute. “My men, they’re waiting for me. See you at The Boots, Damien.”



“See you.”



Parting for the second time, Damien followed Twitch back to the apartment they shared with Sticks and Feather. And though the younger boy tried to talk to him, Damien refused to speak the entire way home.
49
49
Review of The Prince  
for entry "Invalid Entry" 
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with Novel Review Group  
Rated: 18+ | (3.0)
Review: The Prince, Ch 1, by RedMage

Hi,

Before I start reviewing the usual cautions: I am still relatively new at writing and reviewing, and unpublished. So bear in mind that while my comments are helpfully meant, they are in the end only suggestions for your consideration. Feel free to ignore them as you wish –the author normally knows best.

How I review-I first read the text and comment as I read line by line, and once I’ve read the whole I write down my general impression on the categories plot, character etc. under general comments.

So here goes:

GENERAL COMMENTS


Title: The Prince

Chapter: 1

Author: RedMage

Plot: 4 thieves break into a house, are nearly caught by the owner, and are chased by the guards.
I wasn't sure what the plot-line is. From the chapter titles I'm guessing that this is the start of one of two major plotlines, that of Damien. For me, the plot did not come through strong enough. I think you need to clarify that Damien is the main character, as well as give him an overwhelming need / problem which leads to the goal of breaking and entering to steal what why? I think also you have waited too long to bring conflict forward--there appears to be initially no obstacle, we are not made aware of any dire consequences if they are caught, there's only external conflict and that only at the end?

Referencing: "The mark" and "D-man" struck me as out of sync with the rest

Style & Voice: You write with a lot of imagination and vigour. Yet there were a number of things that made reading and following your story difficult for me.
POV: The Point of View constantly changed, you had omniscient, camera, multiple persons' and different single person's POV. This destroys immersion in the text and creates distance. I'd recommend to rewrite the chapter entirely from Damien's POV.
Author intrusion & info dump--there were a couple of places where it was clearly the author telling the reader things the then POV characters had no reason to think about; I suggest either give the POV character a reason to think of these matters or delete them in this chapter
Fragments--the occasional fragment is OK, but normally sentences need subject and verb in order to stand alone
Switching subjects in the same sentence--in my view you overuse a construction where 2 sentences with different subjects are strung together: Something like this: "A doing x, B did y." Whether grammatically correct or not this reads oddly. Why not say e.g. "A did x. B did y." Or, if there really is a connection, clarify the nature of the connection e.g. causal: "Because A did x, B did y."
Finally, on a purely formal note the empty lines between paragraphs looked odd to me, the chapter looks less consistent that way and one has to do a lot of scrolling to read--reconsider?

Setting: I thought you did a really nice job with the setting, night, snow, cold, streets and streetlighting, the house and wall--nice detail and mood.--What did not come across was that according to your blurb it's a harsh, cruel, northern land bound by ice for half the year? Nowhere did I get the impression that the weather is particularly harsh (it felt like normal winter with only a little snow) or that the characters are particularly prepared for or used to it (no special clothing for instance). You may want to work on that a little more? Just a thought...Avalla for me sounds too much like Avalon, reconsider?

Characterization: The POV wavering meant that I didn't really get to know one character. None of them moved me in particular as you did not really give the reader a reason to feel with them. They were on no important errand (that I knew of), were in no particular danger (that I knew of, at least not until the very end), in fact as thieves they did something I disapprove of, secretly stealing someone's hard-earned property (for all I know). Your character Damien may be really hot--a hero I can admire? an underdog I can pity and root for?--but please show me.
The best way to do that is to get really deep into the character's head-third person deep POV.
Then give the character a flaw/handicap and an overwhelming need that motivates him. He has no choice but to steal from this guy the mortgage documents tonight or tomorrow granny will be mercilessly evicted and freeze to death on the road. He needs money to feed himself and the seven orphans he cares for. You get the idea. Furthermore doing this must cost him. Make him risk losing his toes in the cold. Make him face something like third strike with life imprisonment if he gets caught.
Also please show us what he has already lost/given up to become a thief. (Here I must thank you on a personal note. The same suggestion was made to me by a fellow reviewer about my own story's first chapter, but I didn't really 'get' why she couldn't feel with my character until I observed the same 'flaw'' just now in your writing. So I finally understood how this suggestion can be implemented to fix my own writing, and hope it will help you, too.) Maybe he comes from a religious/respectable background and because he became a thief he ...will go to hell? none of his former friends will acknowledge him? he is disgusted with himself and feels he deserves no better life? In other terms work more of the character's background in.
I found also the 'voices' too similar. Good job on apppearances, though.
Finally, 'Damien' made me think immediately of the devil's spawn--reconsider the name?

Grammar: Sentence fragments and subject switching, as I said under "Style"

Just My Personal Opinion: I think this might be a good way to introduce the first of your two main characters, just needs more work. The good news--the issues are really easy to fix, the bad--I have to give a realistic rating *sniff*, but if you chose to revise I'll gladly re-rate the next version if you'd' like me to. Good draft!

Keep on writing!
Love
Nok

IN-LINE REVIEW




Bells rang all across the city which city? can you be more specific? tolling the hourwhat hour? can you be more specific? . Snow falling, gas street lamps lit white islands of safety and security on every corner of Miller’s Road. The snow gleaming with the light, the very air seemed aglow with it Fragment--rephrase?.



Four pairs of eyes appearedwhat POV is this, omniscient? camera? in that darkness just beyond the edge of the shine of? one of the street lamps. Looking this way and that, seeing no one POV slip into 4 heads??, they became four heads, four bodies, and eight arms and eight legs as they slunk into the light. Their legs bowed, backs bent, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble, they huddled beneath the lamp post.



They were not far from the Towers here. They could see the western gate of that walled, city-within-a-city from where they stood beneath the lamp. And they were deep within Green Bows. And along Miller’s Road, the duchy’s largest street no lessFragment--rephrase?. The hour late, if anyone were to appear out of the darkness now it would mean troubleAwkward--rephrase?. Soldiers or locals, it would make no difference. No one but thieves were ever out after midnight. Not in AvallaFragment--rephrase?. No one else but spies and assassinsFragment--rephrase?.



“Quick, which way?” asked the tallestthe tallest...what?. Called Sticks, he was tall and gangly. His voice deep like a man’s, it nevertheless carried the half worried, half exhilarated tone of a fifteen-year-old who was about business he knew to be dangeroussounds like author intrusion to me?.



“Follow me,” said another another...what?. Shorter, he was of average height for his fourteen years of age and his voice held none of the worry of Sticks’sounds like author intrusion to me?. Confidently he straightened up and beckoned to his comrades. The others following, he led them to the thin strip of darkness which occupied the middle of the broad street. Taking to it, they jogged single-file down its narrow breadth.



He name this POV character? had spied out this place earlier in the week. Using the excuse of needing to purchase flour for his mother, who was too ill to make the trip herself, from one of the many millers who made the street their home he had taken a walk around the nearby neighborhoodslong sentence / infodump. Late in the afternoon, the sun had set before he had left and a gang of local thieves had caught him in a side street. He was not from the area, he had told them, and had become lost. For a modest—what they called modest—fee they took him back to the main street and pointed him towards home. He had found what he was looking for, however, and was now leading the others back there.sounds like a slip out of POV--he would think about the name/object moree specifically in my view



Deep brown eyes swiveling POV slip--he can't see his eyes from one side of the street to the other, the boy POV slip, he thinks of himself as "I"-->this becomes either "name" or "he" never stopped searching for trouble. Presently they came to the streetwouldn't he be more specific?. Turning, he led them into its shadows. At the end he halted, taking refuge behind a stack of old crates. Crouching, he turned to the others.



“The house is the third on the right, just down there,” he whispered. Listening for a moment, he stepped back into the street and approached the house as quietly as he could. The home of a prosperous merchant, it was surrounded by a ten foot high wall, not unlike those found in that area of the city called the Banks sounds like author intrusion to me?. However, where the houses in the Banks had smooth, flat walls topped with steel or cast iron spikes to deter intruders, this one had no such added precautions. Roughly built, it the house? was easy to scale and in less time than it took to talk aboutauthor intrusion all four of them had dropped into the yard beyond.



Crouching low, they all listened once more. Looking to the one who had led them thus far Sticks whispered, “D-Man? Your call.”



No sound had greeted them as they had fallen into the soft snow. No alarm had been raised. And no dogs had started to bark. That was a good sign.



Pointing to the two smaller boys, the one called POV slip D-Man said, his voice just as soft as the other’s, “Chimney, north corner.” The two nodded and dashed away. As it was a very cold nightPOV slip, the two left edged closer to one another to wait.



It was several minutes before the house’s rear door was opened. Too large to use the chimney themselves POV slip into 2 heads, Sticks and the D-Man were blowing on their hands and rubbing their chests furiously when they ran inside. Breathing heavily, they listened as the others informed them of the situation.



“Husband and wife, sound asleep in bed,” said the younger of the pair, who was called Feather for his small sizeauthor intrusion. He spoke in a soft voice, barely even a whisper. “House is ours.”



“Good,” said Sticks, his voice just as soft.



“Anyone else we should know about?” asked D-Man.



Twitch grinned. Two years older than Feather, he possessed a strange twitch in his right cheekauthor intrusion. “Yeah, there’s this girl. Really pretty. I’d like to get into bed with her.”



Sticks rolled his eyes but smiled nevertheless. Twitch had only recently discovered girls and couldn’t seem to get enough of themauthor intrusion. “Maybe later,” he said.



“Aw, Sticks! You never let me have any fun.”



Sticks laughed despite himself slip into Sticks' POV. “That’s my job. Now, come on, we’ve all got work to do.”



Smiling, the leader of their little gang sounds like author intrusion to me? led them all into the house. Working primarily by touch, they crept through the pitch black hallways, extending every available sense to aid them in their work. They had done this a hundred times if they had done it once, each of them knew their roles and just how much noise they could make without waking their sleeping mark.omniscient / author intrusion One hand on Twitch’s shoulder, the boy called D-Man followed the others while, single-handedly, he pulled out and opened a burlap sack. Emerging into what they discovered to be a large room, Sticks pulled several candles from a pocket. The chimney’s fireplace here, he found a still warm coal with which to light them. Passing out the candles, they all got to work relieving the house of its valuables.

I'll stop commenting on POV slips & author intrusion, I think you've got the idea

Twitch kept looking towards the hall and the staircase they had passed there. “You know,” said Sticks, “if you do really well tonight Twitch, I just might introduce you to some of the ladies down in South Gardens.”



The boy’s eyes widening, Sticks almost betrayed them with his laugh. Twitch staring at him he saidThe switch of subject ibside each of these 2 sentences sounds awkward to me-rephrase?, “What? You mean it? You’ll really take me!”



“Sure, next time I go,” said the still laughing Sticks. Their voices low, it was evident to the other two in the room that they were having trouble containing themselves to a bare whisper. “And, if you ask nicely,” Sticks continued, “Damien might even introduce you to that girl of his that he’s always going to see. Won’t you D-Man?”



“I most certainly will not,” said Damien, from his chosen place before a bookshelf. Pulling down a book he flipped its pages briefly before replacing it on the shelf. Then, smiling sadly, he glanced over his shoulder at Twitch. “You wouldn’t like her. She’s ugly and much too old for you.”



Again Sticks, this time accompanied by Feather, had to stifle his laughter. Twitch scowled. “You guys are no fun. I’m gonna go look in on my princess.”



“Your princess?” asked Sticks and Damien together. Shaking his head, Damien went back to perusing the bookshelf. Twitch already disappearing down the hallway, Sticks whispered after him, “Be a good little peeping tom now and don’t wake her up!”



Presently they moved out of the room. Sticks going to the parlor and Feather to the sitting room, Damien entered their mark’s study. More books here, he gave them only a cursory glance before proceeding to the desk. Hoping to find a secret panel or some other hidden spot he began to open the drawers one by one.



D-Man, the title he had been given when Sticks had found him, it designated him as the most learned man of their gang. Therefore, anything that did not directly involve picking locks, sneaking into homes and businesses and relieving them of their valuables, was his responsibility. Day Man, it meant. The one who takes care of the daylight affairs of the gang.



There came a noise from the hallway. Rather loud, it sounded to Damien like someone had jumped and landed hard, or maybe been thrown into a wall. Pausing in his work he went to investigate.



A step into the hall, Damien jumped back as Twitch ran past him. Looking back the way the boy had come he heard that sound all denizens of the night fear.



“Thief! Thief!” roared the master of the house. “You dirty, rotten—”



Damien’s eyes widening, he stopped listening and started moving. Running down the hall, he glanced into every door he passed, looking for the others. Upstairs he could hear a girl crying, her father cursing as he stumbled about in the dark. Where were they? Where could Sticks and Feather be? Had they fled already? He knew Twitch had.



Finding the last room to be empty, the one they had started in, he hurried back towards the door they had entered by. It stood open, the heat rushing out while the cold and snow blew in. The mark was on the stairs, his heavy feet booming as he all but leapt down them. Breaking into a run Damien passed the stairs, catching a glimpse of the fat merchant out of the corner of his eye. Tall and heavy, the man looked like he could crush Damien with but a single hand.



Twitch was there, suddenly darting out in front of him. A yell escaping his lips, Damien jumped to the side of the hall just in time. The boy running too, they sprinted for the door.



Outside, across the small yard, up, over the wall, down the street. Go, go, go. Their feet pounded against the hard packed snow and ice. “What the hell did you do?” Damien shouted, coming astride the boy meaning unclear, is he crouching over him?.



“Nothin’! I didn’t do nothin’!”



“Oh yeah? Then why are we running?”



“Stop! Thief! Thief! Stop them! Somebody stop them!”



“Don’t know about you Twitch,” said Damien, sparing a quick glance for the boy. “But does that sound like nothing to you?”



“I didn’t do nothin’!” Twitch shouted again. “Really. I didn’t do nothin’.”



Damien shook his head. “Well, we’ll just let you be the one to explain to Sticks why this mark just decided to start shouting thief. Seriously, what the hell did you do?”



“Don’t you think we have bigger problems to worry about right now than that?”



“Bigger problems? Like what?”



“Oh, maybe like the guards chasin’ us.”



“What?!”



Glancing over his shoulder Damien saw five men following them. Clubs in hand, the black tower of the Avallan guard plain on their chests as they passed a street lamp, their spiked shoes ate up the snow like it wasn’t even there. The fat merchant nowhere to be seen, Damien could hear his cries fading into the distance. “Aw, shit,” he said.



“You can say that again,” said Twitch.



Having slowed a little as the merchant’s cries faded, Damien now began to pick up the pace again. “Step on it Twitch,” he shouted as the boy started to fall behind. “And stay close. This may get real dicey, real quick.”



Behind them the guards too began to pick up their speed. Lowering their heads, they shifted from the loping, long distance stride they’d been sustaining and shifted into a full out sprint. His heart pounding, Damien skidded as he turned left onto another broad street. Grabbing Twitch to keep him from falling, he pushed the boy ahead of him. The street leading straight on all the way to its forked end, the two ran as fast as they could down into the Meridian.
50
50
Review of Prologue  
Review by Nok2
In affiliation with WDC Frontliners Group  
Rated: E | (4.5)
Thanks for sending me the link to the prologue. I enjoyed reading this, too. It felt a bit post Voldemort-Harry-Potterish, in a good way. You have a lot of imagination and have clearly invested a lot of time and effort in your 'world-building' and it shows in that it feels believable and real. Way to go.
Keep writing!
love

Nok
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