[springs]

Originally Posted by Tecdavid

Hi tecdavid; I'm sure you'll get loads of feedback and each might say something different! Anyway, here goes

A Trudge beneath the Tower

The downward, dimming trek into the Vaults of Memoire was an eerie one. A darkness, thick, musty and dust-strewn, greedily devoured all light and vision. Only with a small sphere of flame, flickering warmly in his hand, could Erril see, and even then the murk was hesitant to part. This darkness was as thick as fog, and deep as void.
Okay evocative setting, nice and visual. thick as fog is a bit of a cliche, but followed by a non cliche, so this may be deliberate.
This hall, which led to the Vaults’ many chambers, jutted crudely and jaggedly at every pace, rocky and time-withered. It was like walking within a branch, gnarled, twisted and rotted. A fetid, crumbling rock paved the forgotten walls, as it did the floor, cracked like a quake-struck mosaic, and while the Tower’s higher floors boasted gold and jewel, here had only dirt. This place truly was cast aside by the Prodigies, buried and forsaken. For ages it had festered, and what rose from its rot was an ambience of silent madness. It filled Erril’s nose like a sickly smog.
Too much description for me, but some of it is very good. I think you need to decided which are the key descriptors, keep them. At the moment my head's a little full reading this.
The dead air grew colder and colder as Erril walked. A faint, nearly unnoticeable breeze trickled through the hall like a sigh, and with every gust that touched Erril’s ears, he swore he heard distant, despairing screams, and hollow cackling. Whenever the breeze fell, the gentle crackling of his summoned flame was again his only company, besides his crunching steps across the brown, broken floor. Better but still a lot of description.

The hallway descended deeper, seeming more like a chute to the deepest crypt with every step, and more like an icehouse with every breeze. The surroundings grew ever more ragged, as if they themselves wished not to be remembered. Their very look pleaded him, Get out. Leave us. Take that light away! The walls, streaked with a black ooze, looked to be wailing.

I felt the excerpt was leading me, this is dangerous! this is dark! and read a little bit cliched.

The Sugar-Swathed Wares of Formicko's Flippantry

An endless, wavering ocean of colours swept across the walls as if a madman did the decorating. The halls, tables and counters were laden with countless gadgets, massive and miniscule, that vouched for the place’s total lack of sanity.I like this better it's livelier, it's more colourful and I can use my own imagination to imagine the gadgets etc. I'd change the that vouced to which vouched, but that's probably academic.

Spires of candyfloss, wrapped around poles of rainbow rock-candy like a helter-skelter, sat in jars fit for giants as they stretched from the floor to the height of the ceiling.
the imagery is good but going a little over the top for me.
A river of ice-cream snaked and meandered across the shop, amidst a marzipan countryside. A lever could be pulled which would release a hail of sweets into the river’s flow, from which children could fill a bowl.My 11 year old's heaven.

A massive golden tube, shaped like a Swiss Horn, hung from a wall and belched ludicrously large bubbles which drifted playfully throughout the shop, and within each was a generously large gobstopper, kept afloat by goodness-knows-what. A sign on a pillar read: “Find a Golden Gobstopper and take it to the counter to claim your prize!”

Another division housed a matinee stage, where a cast of chocolate and marshmallow figurines were made to act and dance by long strawberry laces, like puppeteers’ strings. Kids would humorously use lollipops they’d bought to pick swordfights with ones looking like knights and lancers.
I've got the picture by now, and probably didn't need this para.
Oswin appeared much like an eager child himself as he led the two into the store, their eyes fixed on the sugar-coated dreamscape before them. Children darted by them, hoping to catch the next gobstopper drifting their way. Erril ducked to avoid a cheering matinee doll rocket through the air on a pouch which streamed a rainbow of sherbet. Onlookers stuck out their tongues to taste, as though it were snowflakes. It reminded Erril of the Resplendist’s feathergale, and how drastically the two shops contrasted.

‘Help yourselves, folks. Treat’s on me.’ Shouted Oswin as he wandered off to explore the dream-factory. There didn’t seem to be much limit to his offer, as he pretty much filled his arms with things from every jar and bowl on display!Treat's on me," shouted Oswin,


If you happened to like them, and would like to see a little more, you can find a third snippet, as well as the first two chapters and blurb, on my blog.

Thaks again for taking a peek.

Overall I preferred the second excerpt; I thought it was livelier and more original. I find your style a little too descriptive, but the writing is tight and flows well. But, I am really new to all this, so please don't think I know much. Overall nice and interesting.