White Walls of Duat

[Nickler]

i'm a little stuck and i thought i needed some criticizm from poeple that don't realy know me and arent necesarily just trying to be nice.
I would realy appreciate any critisism good or bad so please let loose.

The White Walls of Duat
Yet again the sun rose over the bleached walls of Duat and shattered into a shimmering kaleidoscope as it reflected off the heavily tinted, well cleaned plate glass of the business district. As the light slowly filtered into the streets, in the manner that light slowly works its way into a canyon, people became visible. The town was now alive, at least slightly more so now than before. The people moved in a robotic order, each had his or her own task and nothing was going to distract them. Nobody cared where the person next to them was going or what they did there, they didn’t even truly know what they did themselves. They simply did it.

The city was a mathematical Masterpiece. Down the center of the city ran a river creating two equal halves. On one side of the river sat hundreds of identical white houses each with an identical white fence. On the other side of the river stood several identical skyscrapers each reaching 146 floors, except for the circular tower at the center of the town, which stood slightly above the rest, with 147 floors, as if it was overseeing the rest of the town. Every road intersected at exact ninety-degree angles. Even nature was forced to these unimaginative mathematical standards. Every tree was kept the same height with the same sized trunk, and if someone were to stop their mysterious task long enough to count the leaves they would find exactly 52,438. Of course no one cared about the number of leaves. These people seemed to have lost care and curiosity.

“They’re out, time to work,” I was startled from my thoughts and quickly became part of the chaotic mob massing around the black door. It was slow going for everyone to try and force through the small door at one time. Finally I wedged myself out of the door and came into bright Duat. I glanced back at the contrast of the black door against the white wall, and saw that it was no longer as drastic as it had been when I started working here. The walls were losing their luster.

Through the corner of my eye I saw a glimpse inside one of the skyscrapers. An entire floor was divided into small cramped rooms. In each of these rooms sat one person staring blankly at a bright blinking screen of blue nothingness.
This was supposed to be a utopia for these people. They were given a life free from suffering, and all other evils, but they were entirely dependent on others to control their lives. The overseers in the spire decided where they went, what they did, how and when they did it. Then there were the others like me who took care that they had food that there houses and offices were cleaned and that they never really had to do any physical labor. They never really had to do anything. They didn’t care.


thats not all but i'm working on it thanks for reading and please tell me what you think or any new ideas don't hold back to just grammar.

[knivesout]

I'll ignore grammar/spelling issues right now - these are minor and I suspect a round of revision will handle them

This is a very interesting opening. The first two paragraphs paint a very vivid and detailed picture of the city of Duat. However, once you introduce the narrator's character there seems to be a sudden falling-off in detail. The nature of the two kinds of inhabitants in the city seems very off-hand, considering that you have just been operating at the level of detail where you inform us that every tree in Duat has the same number of leaves - and the number thereof as well! ( I loved that touch!) I'd like to see that same richness of detail (or at least nearly as much) in the description of the labourers - what sort of jobs do they do, what kind of workplaces do they have and so on, and the same for the non-workers. And the dwelling place in which the narrator is at the beginning, the streets he wlaks out into and so forth.

There seems to be a very vivid vision behind this story - now you're just going to have knuckle up and take it through in its fullness! Basically, I think you've set the imaginative bar quite high in the opening, which is why you may be feeling stuck. At this stage, I'd say just layer detail upon detail and then go back and prune the excess away when you are done. Have fun conjuring up your imaginary world!

Well, these are just my opnions, and they may be coloured by the fact that I am rather addicted to imaginary cities and am greedy to see more of this one!The name Duat is itself intriguing - it is the Egyptian underworld , if I recall right. A most interesting association!

[I, Brian]

The first sentence reads too long - I would highly recommend breaking it up into 2:

"Yet again the sun rose over the bleached walls of Duat. It shattered into a shimmering kaleidoscope as it reflected off the heavily tinted, well cleaned plate glass of the business district."

The following sentence also seems a bit weak:

"The town was now alive, at least slightly more so now than before."

So perhaps you can tighten up the first paragraph a little, to help form a stronger opening.

The switch of narrative voice does jar - you seem a little uncertain as to what to describe from the personal angle: you focus on a doorway, but repeat the word "door" a too often, then "glimpse" inside a skyscraper, before really moving into the meat of the final paragraph, which is to describe this place as a utopia/dystopia.

Hm...in fact, I would actually recommend you remove this following section entirely:

“They’re out, time to work,” I was startled from my thoughts and quickly became part of the chaotic mob massing around the black door. It was slow going for everyone to try and force through the small door at one time. Finally I wedged myself out of the door and came into bright Duat. I glanced back at the contrast of the black door against the white wall, and saw that it was no longer as drastic as it had been when I started working here. The walls were losing their luster.

Through the corner of my eye I saw a glimpse inside one of the skyscrapers. An entire floor was divided into small cramped rooms. In each of these rooms sat one person staring blankly at a bright blinking screen of blue nothingness."

With the slight edit of the first paragraph, yours would read like this:

The sun rose over the bleached walls of Duat. Yet again it shattered into a shimmering kaleidoscope as it reflected off the heavily tinted, well cleaned plate glass of the business district. As the light slowly filtered into the streets, in the manner that light slowly works its way into a canyon, people became visible. They moved in a robotic order, each had his or her own task and nothing was going to distract them. Nobody cared where the person next to them was going or what they did there, they didn’t even truly know what they did themselves. They simply did it.

The city was a mathematical Masterpiece. Down the center of the city ran a river creating two equal halves. On one side of the river sat hundreds of identical white houses each with an identical white fence. On the other side of the river stood several identical skyscrapers each reaching 146 floors, except for the circular tower at the center of the town, which stood slightly above the rest, with 147 floors, as if it was overseeing the rest of the town. Every road intersected at exact ninety-degree angles. Even nature was forced to these unimaginative mathematical standards. Every tree was kept the same height with the same sized trunk, and if someone were to stop their mysterious task long enough to count the leaves they would find exactly 52,438. Of course no one cared about the number of leaves. These people seemed to have lost care and curiosity.

This was supposed to be a utopia for these people. They were given a life free from suffering, and all other evils, but they were entirely dependent on others to control their lives. The overseers in the spire decided where they went, what they did, how and when they did it. Then there were the others like me who took care that they had food that there houses and offices were cleaned and that they never really had to do any physical labor. They never really had to do anything. They didn’t care.

Overall, though, I think this sounds like a very interesting project, and you've made a good start. The only issue really seems to be a matter of editing, rather than any clear conceptual or stylistic problems. In other words, good work!

[Nickler]

Thanks to both of you very much

You're right about the character thing it sucks and for somereason that was realy hard for me. Usualy it is my strongest area.

For some reason i felt like i had to introduce him right there, but now i realize that i dont even realy need it, at least not there. I'll think of something thanks.

oh and Duat is the egyption underworld or at lest the path of hardships on the way to paradise as i understood it. That't why i chose it because it is not quite paradise. I'm realy suprised anyone got that but me I'm a little obbsesed with greek and egyptian myth and religion

Thanks again

[I, Brian]

There's nothing wrong in being obsessed by Ancient Myth - and a little closer to the Romano-Greek side and I might have got the obscure references.

Overall, though, an interesting project, and your level of writing seems pretty accomplished - just a little ditorial polish required, perhaps.

[Nickler]

here's a revision

The White Walls of Duat

Yet again the sun rose over the bleached walls of Duat and shattered into a shimmering kaleidoscope as it reflected off the heavily tinted, well cleaned plate glass of the business district. As the light slowly filtered into the streets, in the manner that light slowly works its way into a canyon, people became visible. The town was now alive, at least slightly more so now than before. The people moved in a robotic order, each had his or her own task and nothing was going to distract them. Nobody cared where the person next to them was going or what they did there, they didn’t even truly know what they did themselves. They simply did it.

The city was a mathematical Masterpiece. Down the center of the city ran a river creating two equal halves. On one side of the river sat hundreds of identical white houses each with an identical white fence. On the other side of the river stood several identical skyscrapers each reaching 146 floors, except for the circular tower at the center of the town, which stood slightly above the rest, with 147 floors, as if it was overseeing the rest of the town. Every road intersected at exact ninety-degree angles. Even nature was forced to these unimaginative mathematical standards. Every tree was kept the same height with the same sized trunk, and if someone were to stop their mysterious task long enough to count the leaves they would find exactly 52,438. Of course no one cared about the number of leaves. These people seemed to have lost care and curiosity.

“Boy, awake,” the rough voice startled me back into the darkness of my home that was such a contrast to the beautiful brightness of Duat. This dusty chamber was the sleeping quarters and was located within the white walls, but strangely here the stone walls were a light earth brown. Beds lined the walls, some were tidily made others were a tangled mass of linens, and some were even still occupied. Today was the day that I would begin working in the city itself.

The gravely voice that had awakened me came from Burrich the man who was to be instructing me on the workings of Duat. He was a tall muscular man. His long graying hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and he always seemed to have the shadow of a beard, making him seem rough around the edges. I was excited to begin work and followed him like a puppy.

Our first stop was at the dinning hall. This room was always so full of life. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchens, and my ears were overwhelmed by the storm of voices accented by the occasional flurry of laughter. I gathered my food and spotted an open seat at the back of the room. I never seemed to fit in with the others. At the time I thought it was just that I was younger, but as I aged I never quite found my place. As I walked towards my secluded place at the table I overheard mall bits of conversation. It seemed that whether they were bitter or light hearted the conversations always centered on complaints about the work done in town. They repeatedly compared it to slavery, but in my excited state I could see absolutely no reason for these complaints. I sat and quickly began to inhale my breakfast.

“Excited,” Burrich said, not as a question but as a statement therefore cutting off any possible conversation. I looked at him dumbly and watched him seat himself across from me. I realized he did not expect any response so I went back to eating. I ate slower now and thought about this man I was to work with. I thought of how little I knew of him, and how much I was expected to learn from him.

After breakfast I eagerly followed Burrich to the black doors...
ther will be more of course but i am stuck again

[knivesout]

This definitely takes the story forward faster, and handles some of the points mentioned in the last round. It feels more like there is a plot developing, and we are learning a bit about the narrator and a possible confliect he faces quite early on. The only thing I'd comment on is maybe a bit abstract - there is a certain tone in the opening paragraphs which is very broad and assured. When you move in to the viewpoint of the main character, it suddenly becomes much more subjective. I think you need to somehow signal the shift in viewpoint from what seems like an omniscient narrator at first to the first person narrative that follows. Just a thought, though, see if it makes any sense to you.


Get unstuck soon!

[I, Brian]

That's a good point - continuity of voice.

[Nickler]

here's some more i decided might be worthy of being added please critique, not much though

After breakfast I eagerly followed Burrich to the black door. He grabbed a cart stocked with cleaning equipment and told me to open the small door. It was only about six feet tall and three feet across. My heart beat fast as I turned the brass handle and the door swung silently forward. For a split second I was disappointed at how anticlimactic the door had been, but as the door swung forward the sun broke over its black rim and pierced into my gaping pupils. I loved it.

“Bright,” grumbled Burrich as he angrily rubbed as his eyes. I could barely even close my eyes long enough top blink, much less rub at them. I had to absorb this vivid, colorful exciting landscape before it drifted away like the particles of dust that riddled my bleak home. I was afraid I would disappear as all of my dreams of this place had. It did. My pupils adjusted to the invading light and what had begun as vivid streaks of green, red and blue became a world of perfect detail. The identical trees surrounding the town created a cage of conformity that scared me. I wanted to escape, back to the narrow dark chambers I called home. At least there, surrounded by stone, I was free. I turned to run, but Burrich was there with his cart. There was no way I could slip past him in the narrow doorframe.

“The light hurts. You’ll get used to it.” He didn’t understand at all. He had never had this feeling, and none of the other workers had either.

I managed to calm myself and followed Burrich to our first job.

[Nickler]

I have finished it, but it is too ong to post here and i'm not sure how else to do it

sorry

[aftermath]

Well, holy ****. thats great. I didn't notice spelling or grammar, because I can't spell myself. But, there are some parts, like when he wakes up, that it changes. I know the other two said something along hte same thing. I comprenesion of this types of things isn't the greatest. But I like first few paragraphs a lot. Great.

Actually, ignore what I said about the part when he wakes up. It still changes but they way it does is that it almost flows perfectly.

Also, I wouldn't mind reading the rest of it. Could you email it to me?

[knivesout]

Good going, I think!


Just one question - wht was the door anti-climactic? It isn't really made very clear.

[Lacedaemonian]

The story reads great. The advice you received was great. The result great. It takes a big man to take criticism and work with it like you did Nickler. I am not entirely sure I could take it. The story did read much better with simple editing, and you lost non of your content or ideas. I'm not sure that I would start emailing my book to anybody if I was you. That is my tip. I will consider using these forums for discussion of thoughts and editing in future. The introduction of a mythological under current is a necessity for the success of any sci fi novel as otherwise you just punish the reader with a disjointed stream of dull mathematical possibilities. The success of the Matrix being my point exactly. A good sci fi novel also has to beg big questions about humanity/society with current political themes exasperated in metaphors. These ideas also have to be original and novel. Basically you have to be a genius. But I hate sci fi, so what do I know???

[Hypes]

Lacedaemonian, why do you keep bringing up movies, I wonder? A good SF novel does not need undercurrents of social commentary to be succesful. Just have a look at space opera, or many of the other sub-genrès which are wildly successful.

Also, I thought you found gods to be a trite addition to any book - why would should there be undercurrents of mythology then?

And disproving your entire post in the last sentence is a bit of a waste, isn't it. It's like opening a sentence with: I don't know, but...

Sorry, but I'm tired and a bit grumpy.

[Lacedaemonian]

I was simply letting Nickler know that my points were to be taken with a pinch of salt, as I was not that well versed in SF. I was not 'disproving' any of my points, and was certainly not suggesting he include any physical god or a likeness. I am not familiar with space opera, but it sounds crap. I was simply congratualting Nickler on the piece, and projecting my vision of what makes a good SF work. I see nothing wrong with admitting my shortcomings, it allows Nickler to evaluate my views accurately. However, I felt the need to pass on my opinion.... damn the concept of forum!! Sleep deprivation is a bugger, I forgive your acid tongue, but accept that I should not have drawn on the movies to shape my views on this post. I just love stories in all their forms.