Chapter 1, Part 1

[Dash]

Hi, here is the first part of my chapter 1 (20 years before the exciting prologue), The Hunter as a little boy.

I had a comment on my web site that I don't really understand, about confusing PoV's and stuff: Chapter 1, Part 1 | Skip The Budgie

Just wondering if you chaps had any comments?

"...our land, our country. We will not go forward into this night as slaves - no - we will challenge our foes as warriors! When they look back upon this day they will remember us: the few who died to save the lives of many."

The brave Captain stood valiantly before his loyal troops and concluded his final speech. It had been a grand demonstration of righteous rhetoric and a glorious call to arms, rousing the rabble from their disconsolate slumber and preparing them for the last big push. It was make or break time. The Captain surveyed the sorry scene before him and slowly raised his right fist.

"Onwards men!" He shouted. "On to VICTORY!"

Holding his arms outstretched, the little boy leapt off the old tree stump with a whoop and took off, sprinting furiously around the small garden as fast as his legs would carry him. Charging through the apple trees, he swooped and climbed, narrowly avoiding a direct collision with a tree here, making a daring sideways dive over the pond there and causing little flashes of gold to disappear into the pondweed.

"Red Leader to Red Five! Cover me! Bogies on your six!" He called, excitedly commanding his wingmen to follow and laughing with delight at the tiny people like so many ants in a model village far, far below. Thomas, the fat tabby cat barely escaped when the little boy descended upon him, guns blazing. The cat nonchalantly retired to a safe distance, resuming his bath with a wary, suspicious eye on the hyperactive child. The boy never seemed to get tired of this game, no matter how disdainful the cat tried to be.

"Come on lads! Let's bag us a Big Cat!" The little boy pulled on his Big Boots and wedged The Exploring Hat onto his tousled light blonde hair. He ventured cautiously into the thorny hedgerow hunting for Monsters with only his trusty pocket knife for protection.

"Steady boys, steady" He whispered, freezing and making a complicated gesture with his raised hand. There was a rustling in the bushes followed by a sudden blur of fur. Today Thomas had spotted the little boy well in advance and now he watched the Great Adventurer from the old cherry tree with an air of detached interest, safely out of reach. The little boy grinned and scratched his head.

Moments later the Dreaded Pirate Blackbeard scuppered a hundred wealthy merchant ships, saving a grateful maiden or two on the way and showing a little mercy to his enemies, but not so much that he risked losing the respect of his men. The dreaded pirate cheerfully persuaded Thomas to come down from the tree once the world was safe again and they had both been called inside for supper.

In the house nearby, net curtains twitched and shuddered.

A powerful wave of nervous energy suddenly overcame the boy and he turned quickly, eyes wide and questioning, but saw nothing. The movement in the curtains was not unusual - the old man often watched him playing - but the feeling was not often so negative and overpowering as this. Today it was different somehow. More oppressive, like a thick blanket of darkness beginning to smother him. In recent days the boy's innate ability to see beyond the obvious had shown him real darkness in the village and as a result his play had become more intense, more desperately carefree. Nobody who met him really understood why he behaved like this, he seemed to be surrounded by The Shadow, something terrible they could not explain and yet he always seemed happy.

The Shadow was getting stronger. The little boy knew it, the neighbours knew it. The other children at school knew it, although only he saw it as a physical entity. For most it was just an uncomfortable feeling when they encountered him. They told themselves that it was all nonsense, nobody cared about some Perfect Little Boy having Perfect Little Adventures in his Perfect Little World. Certainly they pretended for the show of it, but people cared only about themselves, only about how this strange little boy affected the way they felt. They resented his obvious happiness when he should have been miserable. Oh the poor thing, what with his daddy gone and his mother struggling so, they would whisper, while forbidding their own children to approach the boy. Yes, his fancies are all well and good, but where does it lead, I ask you?

Despite all this, as in most small communities, they would publicly make great claims to care about truth and honesty, even a truth observed from behind dusty net curtains by a grumpy old man who lived next door, a man who had not been allowed to do anything at all when HE was a little boy. A man for whom 'Truth' was beyond imagining but today, today when the Truth came to visit this particular little boy there was nothing anybody could do to save him.

[ctg]

Originally Posted by Dash

"...our land, our country. We will not go forward into this night as slaves - no - we will challenge our foes as warriors! When they look back upon this day they will remember us: the few who died to save the lives of many."

The brave Captain stood valiantly before his loyal troops and concluded his final speech. It had been a grand demonstration of righteous rhetoric and a glorious call to arms, rousing the rabble from their disconsolate slumber and preparing them for the last big push. It was make or break time. The Captain surveyed the sorry scene before him and slowly raised his right fist.

There's nothing here that's especially wrong, although it does feel as I've seen it before. Probably this particular scene has been used too many times in the films.

The only criticism here is the way he slowly raises his fist, when I think he should punch it in the air.

"Onwards men!" He shouted. "On to VICTORY!"

Holding his arms outstretched, the little boy leapt off the old tree stump with a whoop and took off, sprinting furiously around the small garden as fast as his legs would carry him. Charging through the apple trees, he swooped and climbed, narrowly avoiding a direct collision with a tree here, making a daring sideways dive over the pond there and causing little flashes of gold to disappear into the pondweed.

This is the bit that they're calling head-hopping, where you go from Captain to young boy. The way they want to see you going is to stick with one character and use it to to narrate your story.

"Red Leader to Red Five! Cover me! Bogies on your six!" He called, excitedly commanding his wingmen to follow and laughing with delight at the tiny people like so many ants in a model village far, far below. Thomas, the fat tabby cat barely escaped when the little boy descended upon him, guns blazing. The cat nonchalantly retired to a safe distance, resuming his bath with a wary, suspicious eye on the hyperactive child. The boy never seemed to get tired of this game, no matter how disdainful the cat tried to be.

"Come on lads! Let's bag us a Big Cat!" The little boy pulled on his Big Boots and wedged The Exploring Hat onto his tousled light blonde hair. He ventured cautiously into the thorny hedgerow hunting for Monsters with only his trusty pocket knife for protection.

"Steady boys, steady" He whispered, freezing and making a complicated gesture with his raised hand. There was a rustling in the bushes followed by a sudden blur of fur. Today Thomas had spotted the little boy well in advance and now he watched the Great Adventurer from the old cherry tree with an air of detached interest, safely out of reach. The little boy grinned and scratched his head.

Moments later the Dreaded Pirate Blackbeard scuppered a hundred wealthy merchant ships, saving a grateful maiden or two on the way and showing a little mercy to his enemies, but not so much that he risked losing the respect of his men. The dreaded pirate cheerfully persuaded Thomas to come down from the tree once the world was safe again and they had both been called inside for supper.[/quote]

Right, the people that reads your story want to obviously read one character head, and you again, do a slight case of head-hopping in the end. What I would suggest you to do is to rewrite the whole chapter, and when you do so, try to pain one picture from one narrators POV.

In the house nearby, net curtains twitched and shuddered.

A powerful wave of nervous energy suddenly overcame the boy and he turned quickly, eyes wide and questioning, but saw nothing. The movement in the curtains was not unusual - the old man often watched him playing - but the feeling was not often so negative and overpowering as this. Today it was different somehow. More oppressive, like a thick blanket of darkness beginning to smother him. In recent days the boy's innate ability to see beyond the obvious had shown him real darkness in the village and as a result his play had become more intense, more desperately carefree. Nobody who met him really understood why he behaved like this, he seemed to be surrounded by The Shadow, something terrible they could not explain and yet he always seemed happy.

The Shadow was getting stronger. The little boy knew it, the neighbours knew it. The other children at school knew it, although only he saw it as a physical entity. For most it was just an uncomfortable feeling when they encountered him. They told themselves that it was all nonsense, nobody cared about some Perfect Little Boy having Perfect Little Adventures in his Perfect Little World. Certainly they pretended for the show of it, but people cared only about themselves, only about how this strange little boy affected the way they felt. They resented his obvious happiness when he should have been miserable. Oh the poor thing, what with his daddy gone and his mother struggling so, they would whisper, while forbidding their own children to approach the boy. Yes, his fancies are all well and good, but where does it lead, I ask you?

Despite all this, as in most small communities, they would publicly make great claims to care about truth and honesty, even a truth observed from behind dusty net curtains by a grumpy old man who lived next door, a man who had not been allowed to do anything at all when HE was a little boy. A man for whom 'Truth' was beyond imagining but today, today when the Truth came to visit this particular little boy there was nothing anybody could do to save him.

Here you waver between the heads as you use OMNISCIENT NARRATOR to do the narrative. This is what puts off your readers.

[The Judge]

I haven't gone to your website, Dash, but I think the first problem may be that people aren't realising that the beginning speech is in fact in the boy's imagination - they are taking it as a real speech by a real man, and they are then becoming confused when you swoop into the boy's POV. I'm not holding myself out as being cleverer than they are in this, since I too read it that way to begin with, and only clicked when you started talking about the cat - the line about the Red Leader I also took at face value, which confused me again. In case this is a problem for others, and not just me and ctg, it might be helpful if you make it clear that he is doing a Walter Mitty as soon as possible. Instead of having the boy leap off the tree stump -- since it is entirely possible he has watched some kind of real scene of heroism from there -- have him first take off his Brave Captain Hat and replace it with his Fighter Ace Hat, or something of that kind.

You then do lurch into a change of POV when you show us the boy from the cat's viewpoint, in two separate sections. I can see why they are there, but I'm not sure they work. However, I am far from an expert on POV, so it may be that others will think differently on that point. However, you then, as ctg says, definitely go into omniscient narrator, so as to get into the heads of the neighbour, the other villagers, the other children etc, and relating things which the boy himself could not know. This again does seem disruptive to me and I'm usually very laid back about these things. I think one way to help reduce the unsettling feeling it creates is perhaps to put an asterisk or two after the paragraph ending 'supper', as this will show that there is a change of POV. Even then, I think those last 3 paragraphs need to be rethought a little. With luck someone who knows more about this than I do may come and help you out on that point.

Speaking of those last 3 paras, I'm not sure if the problem simply is the odd POV. Re-reading them I'm still left uncertain as to what is happening, but not in a way as to make me eager to read on and find out. It isn't suspense I'm feeling, so much as obfuscation.

I'm a nit-picky critiquer. On that score, there are a few issues.

You are getting your punctuation wrong with your dialogue attribution. There are posts on this in The Toolbox, a sticky at the top of Aspiring Writers, which I suggest you read, but basically in the line "Steady boys, steady" He whispered there should be a comma after 'steady' and the 'he' should start with a lower case 'h', so ' "Steady boys, steady," he whispered.' Where you have a question mark or an exclamation mark at the end of the dialogue, as in "Onwards men!" He shouted. again it should be followed by 'he' not 'He'.

You're a little careless sometimes with your other punctuation. For instance, Nobody who met him really understood why he behaved like this, he seemed to be surrounded by The Shadow requires at least a semi-colon in place of the comma after 'this' and The little boy knew it, the neighbours knew it. The other children at school knew it, although only he saw it as a physical entity either you need to make it all one long sentence, or two sentences breaking it before 'although', or 4 separate sentences - at present it is unbalanced and the last subclause bears no relation to the other children alone. Also, you omit commas sometimes, eg a daring sideways dive over the pond there and causing little flashes of gold needs a comma after 'there' to balance the sentence; and Thomas, the fat tabby cat barely escaped needs one after 'cat' to complete the subclause.

Quickly reading I didn't see there was a mention of the boy's age, but I'm seeing him as being under the age of 10 in view of his acting out his imagination in this way. That being the case I have grave difficulty believing he would come out with words and phrases like 'righteous rhetoric' and 'disconsolate slumber' when he is make-believing. Have you thought about his vocabulary at all? If he were relating a real scene of this kind to a friend (if he had one) would he use those words?

Incidentally, I'm assuming that you know that neither 'righteous' nor 'disconsolate' are correct adjectives for the situation, and that this is the boy's ignorance not yours. The cliched phrases and the excessive alliteration which appear I'm also (perhaps charitably) assuming are there because this kind of thing appeals to the boy. Just make sure you leave the worst excesses behind when you go further out from his POV.

Also, I'd suggest avoiding homophones wherever possible so a sudden blur of fur needs to be re-thought.

A couple of odd words. Cats wash, they don't have a 'bath'. When possible avoid using 'now' and 'this' when writing in the past tense, and definitely manage without 'today' - the latter in particular can cause confusion.

Finally, the imagery in at the tiny people like so many ants in a model village far, far below shouldn't this be 'at the ants like tiny people in a model village' or simply 'at the tiny people like ants' omitting the rest? Or do you mean 'at the tiny people far, far below, like ants in a model village'?

Hope this helps a little

[Dash]

@ctg Right...

So the point is that the little boy is playing in the garden and he is all the characters, ie. playing at being a captain, a pirate and an adventurer. Is it that hard to grasp?

I have no idea how I can change the end of the scene as I think the omniscient part is important.

Thanks for the feedback, I'll have to really focus on this PoV thing I think!

[Dash]

@The Judge, thanks for the nitpicking! All good points!

I hadn't realised that you should use lower case after exclamation marks in dialogue.

Will look at the other points you've made too. I was trying to be a little cryptic with the play acting, but I suspect it's the trap of me knowing what is going on and not making it clear enough.

[Dash]

Quickly reading I didn't see there was a mention of the boy's age, but I'm seeing him as being under the age of 10 in view of his acting out his imagination in this way.

Yes he is seven, the age is mentioned later in the chapter (a few more thousand words later!).

That being the case I have grave difficulty believing he would come out with words and phrases like 'righteous rhetoric' and 'disconsolate slumber' when he is make-believing. Have you thought about his vocabulary at all? If he were relating a real scene of this kind to a friend (if he had one) would he use those words?

No- I hadn't gone too far into thinking about his vocabulary except where he is speaking. I had thought that the narrative text was immune. I guess I'm not fully up on PoV yet...

[The Judge]

Originally Posted by Dash

No- I hadn't gone too far into thinking about his vocabulary except where he is speaking. I had thought that the narrative text was immune. I guess I'm not fully up on PoV yet...

To be honest, this is a point I have asked before on here and no one has ever responded! My opinion, for what it's worth, is that in a close POV you should only use that character's vocab, but that you can be a little more relaxed if you are further away - a difference between looking though their eyes for the latter and eavesdropping on their mind for the former. Here, though, it is more than simply narrative text, as this is (in a sense) what the boy is thinking/saying to himself, which is why I thought it should be his words. Having said that, I can appreciate why you want that grandiloquent language and it is amusing once you get the joke**. Wait and see if anyone else raises it as a concern.

** a downside is, before I got the joke -- and bearing in mind this is the first chapter (I must have missed your prologue) -- I had grave reservations about your writing skills!!

[Dash]

Here, though, it is more than simply narrative text, as this is (in a sense) what the boy is thinking/saying to himself, which is why I thought it should be his words. Having said that, I can appreciate why you want that grandiloquent language and it is amusing once you get the joke**. Wait and see if anyone else raises it as a concern."

Thanks, I must admit I was surprised to see the comments about it being confusing - it does not seem so to me at all, but that is what these critiques are for, I guess! I have incorporated the punctuation comments into the published post, the other things will have to become part of the re-write when I get past the first draft. The thing that gave me pause was the woman on my web site saying it is 'bad writing'. I know I'm a good writer (in terms of prose in general), but there is always a lot to learn!!!!

Re: the 'everybody knew it' sentence, I was thinking of changing it to:

The Shadow was getting stronger, the little boy could feel it. The neighbours had noticed it. The other children at school, too. But only he saw it as a physical entity, for most it was just an uncomfortable feeling when they encountered him.

In terms of this all not making sense, it does become clearer (I hope!) as the chapter goes on, but I don't want to give too much away at this stage of the story: The boy 'suffers' from strong projection synesthaesia, which filters into his experience of the world, heightened at times of stress and with some beneficial side effects, leading to a blurring in his mind between reality and fantasy.

What I was hoping to convey, now that I think about it critically, was the idea that he senses something Bad (The Shadow) and he uses fantasy/play to keep The Shadow at bay.

PS: 'blur of fur' is not strictly a homophone, but I presume you are referring to the fact the words are rhyming?

[The Judge]

Originally Posted by Dash

In terms of this all not making sense, it does become clearer (I hope!) as the chapter goes on, but I don't want to give too much away at this stage of the story: The boy 'suffers' from strong projection synesthaesia, which filters into his experience of the world, heightened at times of stress and with some beneficial side effects, leading to a blurring in his mind between reality and fantasy.

That does sound interesting, and I agree you don't want to show your hand too quickly. I think there is a middle path, though. Use the voice and the plain words you're using here to describe things to me, instead of that know-all omniscient narrator, and see if that helps.

What I was hoping to convey, now that I think about it critically, was the idea that he senses something Bad (The Shadow) and he uses fantasy/play to keep The Shadow at bay.

That certainly didn't come over to me, I have to confess. It might be worth showing that somehow in his POV scene before you go omniscient, using his voice.

PS: 'blur of fur' is not strictly a homophone, but I presume you are referring to the fact the words are rhyming?

Do you know, after I'd posted I thought that's the wrong flaming word, but I was too lazy to edit and correct it. Typical! Anyway, avoid homophones as well as rhymes!

By the way, your intended sentence: The Shadow was getting stronger, the little boy could feel it. The neighbours had noticed it. The other children at school, too. But only he saw it as a physical entity, for most it was just an uncomfortable feeling when they encountered him.
Again, I'd query the punctuation - at least a semi-colon after 'entity' I think. If you read it aloud there's a longer pause than you would give to a comma. I know this is in omniscient narrator, but I didn't like the use of the word 'Shadow' for what the boy feels since he wouldn't know it by that name. Although you used the word in the original version, because you gave everyone's else's reaction to it first it wasn't so jarring. And if I'm being very pernickity, I'd advise against the 'The neighbours had noticed it' line - both for alliteration and rhythm. Actually, there's an irregularity about the rhythm of the whole para which I find unsettling. But that's probably just me.

[Dash]

Thanks Judge (and CTG), you've given me a lot to think about! I think I have some ideas how I can focus on the one PoV, will draft a rewrite and see what happens!

[TheEndIsNigh]

J:

Interestingly enough I had no problem with the opening lines and the boy (for what it's worth )

I picked up on it as soon as he jumped of the log.

I'm wondering if this is because I was that boy in my younger years before the time of television; when we had to amuse ourselves with cardboard boxes, table leg machine guns and birds for aircraft to shoot at.

Is this a gender thing do you think.

I would suggest that for a seven year old the tone and language is a bit too adult though. It was more like

"Come on men let's get 'em" in my day.

I don't remember the Gettysburg's Address or Henry V and his fighting them on the beeches speech at that age.

[The Judge]

Originally Posted by TheEndIsNigh

I'm wondering if this is because I was that boy in my younger years before the time of television; when we had to amuse ourselves with cardboard boxes, table leg machine guns and birds for aircraft to shoot at.

The had aircraft when you were a boy?

As to whether it's a gender thing, I dunno. Perhaps we ought to have a poll. 'Who was confused by the opening of Dash's Chapter 1?'! It does seem there is a risk of it happening though, which is why perhaps a word or two to make it clear might not go amiss.

By the way, Dash, I went and had a look at your link to see that woman's comments and I think you're perhaps misinterpreting her 'bad writing' remark. As I understand it, she's making the same point I was when I said I'd initially had doubts about your writing skills. The grandiose language you use for the boy's make-believing is cliched and overblown and the whole 'scene' of those first two paras is, let's face it, cheesy. Which is the point, of course, because the little boy is having a ball and he is thinking in these cliched cheesy terms. Unfortunately, there are people who put their work on the web (and, even more unfortunately on this site from time to time) who write at this level and who wouldn't intend it to be ironic. So, my (and presumably, her) first thoughts were here comes another one! That image is dispelled, of course, once we get into it.


PS TEiN, dear friend, Henry fought them in the breaches (and possibly breeches - I'm not au fait with 15th century menswear...) and the Gettysburgs' address is c/o National Cemetery, Pennsylvania if you still need it.

[Dash]

"I don't remember the Gettysburg's Address or Henry V and his fighting them on the beeches speech at that age. "

Really? I was a real one for make-believe and I used to make up the grandest speeches! Mostly stolen from the A-Team, mind you...

[Dash]

Okay so I've attempted a re-write, trying to focus on language and the boy's PoV - the only place where I had real trouble was the very end, which is still omniscient, but I want to stress the importance of the old man at this stage (all to be revealed very soon in the chapter).

'...our land, our country. We won't go into the night like slaves - no - we will fight our enemies like warriors! When they look back on today they will remember us: the few who died to save the lives of many.'

The Captain drew himself up before his loyal troops as he finished speaking. It had been a good speech, a glorious call to arms, rousing the rabble from their sadness and preparing them for the last big push. It was make or break time. The brave Captain surveyed the scene before him and slowly raised his right fist.

'Onwards men!' he shouted, punching the air in time with the words. 'On to VICTORY!'

Holding his arms outstretched, the little boy leapt off the old tree stump with a whoop and took off, now the world-renowned Fighter Ace, Red Leader, sprinting furiously around the small garden as fast as his legs would carry him. Charging through the apple trees, he swooped and climbed, narrowly avoiding a direct collision with a tree here, making a daring sideways dive over the pond there, and causing little flashes of gold to disappear into the pondweed.

'Red Leader to Red Five! Cover me! Bogies on your six!' he called, excitedly commanding his wingmen to follow and laughing with delight at the tiny people far, far below, like ants in a model village. Thomas, the fat tabby cat, barely escaped when the little boy descended upon him, guns blazing. He chased the cat, who retreated to a safe distance in the bushes with barely a backward glance, resuming his washing with a wary, suspicious eye on the hyperactive child. The boy laughed and taunted the animal. He never got tired of this game, no matter how disdainful the cat tried to be.

'Come on lads! Let's bag us a Big Cat!' The little boy pulled on his Big Boots and wedged The Exploring Hat onto his tousled light blonde hair. He ventured cautiously into the thorny hedgerow hunting for Monsters with only his trusty pocket knife for protection.

'Steady boys, steady,' he whispered, freezing and making a complicated gesture with his raised hand. There was a rustling in the bushes and a streak of orange-brown fur. He had been too slow, Thomas had spotted him well in advance and now sat well out of reach in the old cherry tree, staring back at the Great Adventurer with an air of detached interest. The little boy grinned up at him and scratched his head.

Moments later the Dreaded Pirate Blackbeard scuppered a hundred wealthy merchant ships, saving a grateful maiden or two on the way and showing a little mercy to his enemies, but not so much that he risked losing the respect of his men. The dreaded pirate cheerfully persuaded Thomas to come down from the tree once the world was safe again and they had both been called inside for supper.

In the house nearby, net curtains twitched and shuddered.

A powerful wave of nervous energy suddenly overcame the boy and he turned quickly, eyes wide and questioning, but saw nothing. The movement in the curtains was not unusual - he knew the old man often watched him playing - but the sensation of being watched was not normally so negative and overpowering as this. It felt different, more oppressive, like a thick blanket of darkness beginning to smother him. He called it 'The Shadow', an ever-present sense of impending doom he had known for as long as he could remember. As long as he kept playing make-believe the Shadow remained on the edges, but in recent days the behaviour of the other people in the village had changed towards him, and the little boy was beginning to suspect that they had noticed it too. As a result his play had become more intense, more desperately carefree.

While running errands for his mother, it was becoming increasing difficult to ignore the whispers that followed him; Oh the poor thing, what with his daddy gone and his mother struggling so... Yes - the Shadow was getting stronger, but only he saw it as a physical entity, a clawing darkness threatening to smother his very soul. The others reacted as if they saw something rotten in him, as if he were the carrier, the devil child. He noted the fear in their eyes, the involuntary shudder, the way they clutched their own children close, shielding them from him as if he would kill them with a glance. He was no longer allowed to play with any of the other children. Even at school they had begun to give him a wide birth, so on he played, his imagination keeping him free when the world was trying to imprison him.

Yes, his fancies are all well and good, but where does it lead, I ask you? The words haunted him daily. It was not his fault that The Shadow was here, but it was definitely here for him. He did not understand the hypocrisy of the adults, how they could make great claims to care about truth and honesty, pitying him one moment and avoiding him the next.

The old man knew about truth.

Even a truth observed from behind dusty net curtains by a grumpy old man who lived next door, a man who had not been allowed to do anything at all when HE was a little boy. A man for whom 'Truth' was beyond imagining, but his help would come too late.

When the Truth came to visit this little boy there was nothing anybody could do to save him.

[TheDustyZebra]

Well, I didn't have any trouble understanding what was going on, if that helps! But I did things like that when I was a kid, including making speeches to chickens that sounded like a hardboiled detective novel, and I once wrote a story about those exploits, too! So I may not be the best person to judge it.