Tense scene

[allmywires]

Is it eerie enough? Is it obvious that Ezia's rational judgement has been affected by the trees?

(Previously to the scene, their guide through the forest had seemingly disappeared, and Ezia has set out alone to find her.)


It was a cold determination that took her; she felt shamed by this forest, the peculiar affect it had on her that was entirely out of her control. She grabbed her dagger and held it close to her side, creeping as fast as she dared; the trees were obstacles now, roots finding her step where she thought there was soft ground, bark scraping her knuckles as she squeezed between gaps in the trunks. As numb as she was, she felt every scratch like a needle piercing her skin; the silver bark of the trees was hard and dry and brittle, and came away with her skin as she brushed it.

She span around when she heard a sharp intake of breath; she tried to yell for Nives, but her voice was completely gone. Grasping her throat with her free hand, she gasped for air as if drowning; her larynx had become as numb as the rest of her, and she felt the cold chill of fear pour through her veins, sinking in her bones and settling like lead. Desperately, she slashed at the air; her knife stuck in the brittle bark, cracking and snapping and stinging as it fell on her skin like the needles of the spiked coschca plant that grew by the coast.

Suddenly, from a gap between the endless tress, she thought she saw a flickering light. Immediately and without regard for the two men she had left behind, she started to follow it; her arms and hands burned with splinters, her toes numb and useless, tripping on roots, crying out voicelessly. The light grew a little stronger; the trees were thinning, and her whole upper body jumped with relief that she might be nearing the edge of the forest. She ran now, tripping and falling hard once or twice, but when she came to the source of the light she was even deeper in the forest than she had ever been, and what she saw nearly made her fall to her knees.

It was a clearing ringed with a black, oily pool, and the light she had followed came from thousands of glowing insects feeding on fat tuber plants floating on the water. The trees were so tall that they arched above her, their boughs meeting in a lattice, a firm hold that blocked all light. The silvery bark gave the place a weak glow, even colder than the electrum lights, and it was filled with an uproarious, unnerving clicking noise from the hungry insects. There was a breeze blowing from somewhere, and the high boughs of the trees creaked above her. She raised her gaze.

From the tallest trees came thick vines, and from those vines hung people; their legs and arms splayed, heads forward, tongues protruding and glistening in the silvery light. Ezia had heard of this: these were the Dead Trees. Dante had been here once but refused to say anything else of it, and now she could understand why: it was at once the most disturbing and beautiful sight Ezia had ever seen. She stepped into the clearing, and her path closed behind her, and out of a compulsion she could not place, she sheathed her knife and began to climb the nearest tree, the splinters digging sharply into her palm. Desperation filled her, an intoxicating kind of sheer panic, the adrenalin of a do-or-die situation, and she climbed as she had never climbed before, feeling her stiff limbs creak, her muscles start to tear. She knew who it was before she could ever see his face clearly; forcing herself onto the lower branch, she hauled herself along until she was breathing so hard it felt like her ribs would crack, her diaphragm tear clean off. She caught the spinning corpse by the chin. Her father’s empty eyes stared back at her.

His skin was pale and bloodless, slick with the heavy damp that permeated this horrible place, but otherwise he looked no different than Ezia remembered: black hair down to his shoulders, a neat moustache, watery green eyes and a birthspot on his cheek that he always picked at. His tongue poked from between his cracked lips and the whites of his eyes were stained blood-red, but he was still her papiu, as if he had died that very day and the last seventeen years had only been a minute.

Ezia knew what she had to do; her knees failing her, she leapt to the branch that her father hung from. Working her knife out of its sheath with one hand, the other hanging on for dear life, she began hacking at the vine. She sliced her arm more than once in her haste; to steady her grip, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders and felt her muscles rip as she took one more almighty heave at the vine. It made no difference. The trees seemed closer; branches poked her lower back and breasts, leaves brushing her ankles and the air growing heavy and solid, like ice. She was no longer hanging; the trees scraped her, ripped at her clothing and held her up: she closed her ice and plunged her knife into the vine one last time, before her strength failed and a deeper, more sinister darkness engulfed her.

[springs]

I haven't done a crit, because your english and punctuation all work for me. What I did fnd was that there was so much description - it was all really well done, though - that I got a bit buried in it, and failed, maybe, to pick out the key areas. so eg:

Grasping her throat with her free hand, she gasped for air as if drowning; her larynx had become as numb as the rest of her, and she felt the cold chill of fear pour through her veins, sinking in her bones and settling like lead

So, I'm happy with the grasping her throat, and the gasping for air. I think the drowning I've already got with the previous actions? Then we have a numb larynx and a cold chill of fear in her veins, and I'm starting to get overwhelmed in bodily reactions. I think half of these would have a bigger effect in a way?
But, I am notoriously a fan of description-lite, so this is a personal preference, and you may well get very different reactions from others.
I thought it very well written, though, but for me, less would have been more, would have built me up more to the horror of her dad, as it was, I was a bit overwhelmed when I got there.

[Bowler1]

It’s always difficult when a character is on its own to get their feelings across while keeping the pace of the story going. I do think you managed it here and I did like a lot of the descriptions you used. It was for me bordering on being overworked but you still managed to keep me with you which was good. You introduced quite a lot of menace near the end in a very nice way. I’m not a fan of large chunks of descriptive writing but for me, you have pulled it off in the section posted. If however your whole work followed a similar pattern, I would tire of it quickly. Pace of plot is also important. This is the problem with posting small sections, it’s not always easy to get a full picture of you WIP.


There will however be plenty of members that will like what has been posted, it was well written.

[Abernovo]

Hi, amw. This isn't a full crit either. As springs says, your grammar and punctuation seem fine. Like her, I feel it was a little description heavy (and I feel like such a hypocrite for saying so, as I'm a serial offender on description ).

That said, I liked the imagery of the forest and Ezia's journey through it. I've always thought that nature imagery is brilliant for setting tone and, in this case, it heightens the feelings of her being lost and out of control for me. If it was a bit tighter, it might enhance it even further. However, that may just be me and others may disagree. This is only my opinion.

Originally Posted by allmywires

As numb as she was, she felt every scratch like a needle piercing her skin; the silver bark of the trees was hard and dry and brittle, and came away with her skin as she brushed it.

I liked this description a lot. Very real and vivid.

Originally Posted by allmywires

She span around when she heard a sharp intake of breath; she tried to yell for Nives, but her voice was completely gone. Grasping her throat with her free hand, she gasped for air as if drowning; her larynx had become as numb as the rest of her, and she felt the cold chill of fear pour through her veins, sinking in her bones and settling like lead. Desperately, she slashed at the air; her knife stuck in the brittle bark, cracking and snapping and stinging as it fell on her skin like the needles of the spiked coschca plant that grew by the coast.

As with springs, I got a little lost in bodily feelings here. They're all good and well written, but less is more, I feel.

Originally Posted by allmywires

Suddenly, from a gap between the endless tress, she thought she saw a flickering light. Immediately and without regard for the two men she had left behind, she started to follow it;

The dreaded adverbs, or -ly words. Sometimes, they're useful, even necessary, but I read a trick is to remove them from the sentence and see if it works without them. Then, you can choose whether to add them back in. This is a very personal thing though, and some people love them.

Originally Posted by allmywires

The silvery bark gave the place a weak glow, even colder than the electrum lights, and it was filled with an uproarious, unnerving clicking noise from the hungry insects.

Electrum is an alloy of gold and silver (absolutely beautiful, by the way). I take it you mean electric lights here.

All in all, there is a lot to like here. Perhaps you could tighten it up in places with the description, but that's what the editing stage is for, so it's not a great problem. This is definitely interesting and I engaged with Ezia. Please keep on with this. Good luck.

[allmywires]

Thanks guys, I am a terrible offender at being too wordy so I'll try and cut it down.

Originally Posted by Abernovo

Electrum is an alloy of gold and silver (absolutely beautiful, by the way). I take it you mean electric lights here.

Yep, electrum is meant to be their version of electricity but I made a rookie mistake and didn't Google it first to see if it was a real thing...whoops.

[Glen]

I liked this. I liked the pace and energy and the language used. Hope the comments are useful and make sense.

Originally Posted by allmywires

shamed by this forest

I really liked the first para, it set the pace for the rest of the piece, and had some great language.

Originally Posted by allmywires

She span around when she heard a sharp intake of breath

Spun? sharp intake of breath sounded a bit like a cliche.

Originally Posted by allmywires

Grasping her throat with her free hand, she gasped for air as if drowning;

I was confused as to why she was gasping for air here, and then suddenly ok next para. I felt the coscha plant analogy took me out of the story.

Originally Posted by allmywires

she thought she...she might be...nearly made her

These three instances of things nearly but not quite in the one para jumped out at me and made me want things to be more definitive.

Originally Posted by allmywires

at once the most disturbing and beautiful sight

I read it as eerie and unpleasant and wondered why she thought it beautiful. Was it the light that she liked?

Originally Posted by allmywires

out of a compulsion she could not place, she sheathed her knife and began to climb the nearest tree, the splinters digging sharply into her palm. Desperation filled her, an intoxicating kind of sheer panic

I liked this breathy pace, that contains good, evocative description ("intoxicating").

Originally Posted by allmywires

her muscles start to tear

That seemed like quite a lot of injury. Even one torn muscle climbing a tree sounds bad to me.

Originally Posted by allmywires

Her father’s empty eyes stared back at her.

Wow. What a payoff.

Originally Posted by allmywires

black hair down to his shoulders

I wondered at this point how his hair could be down to his shoulders as I had thought "their legs and arms splayed, heads forward" meant they were hung from waist or legs.

Originally Posted by allmywires

His skin was pale and bloodless...

This whole para works well for me - the pace is changed from the climb, now dealing with the shock with nicely worked in memories, it sits like a still moment - then the pace picks up again next para.

[allmywires]

Thanks Glen. The coscha plant is quite an important analogy that's referred to throughout the book, but of course you weren't to know that from this wee scene.

[Scott R. Forshaw]

It was a cold determination that took her; she felt shamed by this forest, the peculiar affect it had on her that was entirely out of her control. She grabbed her dagger and held it close to her side, creeping as fast as she dared; the trees were obstacles now, roots finding her step where she thought there was soft ground, bark scraping her knuckles as she squeezed between gaps in the trunks. As numb as she was, she felt every scratch like a needle piercing her skin; the silver bark of the trees was hard and dry and brittle, and came away with her skin as she brushed it.

She spun around when she heard a sharp intake of breath; she
tried to yell for Nives, but her voice was completely gone. Grasping her throat with her free hand, she gasped for air as if drowning; her larynx had become as numb as the rest of her, and she felt the cold chill of fear pour through her veins, sinking in her bones and settling like lead. Desperately, she slashed at the air; her knife stuck in the brittle bark, cracking and snapping and stinging as it fell on her skin like the needles of the spiked coschca plant that grew by the coast.

From: her knife stuck in the brittle bark... This whole sentence seems to jar with me. It makes sense, but it doesn't seem to flow as well as the previous para. The critical part of my psyche began to question what was cracking and snapping – the knife? Of course I knew it wasn't, but it didn't stop that little rebellious part of my brain from thinking it.

I also wasn't keen with the inclusion of the coschca plant, and felt it pulled me out of the piece, somewhat. I understand that it may be an important, perhaps integral part of the story, but if it's mentioned elsewhere, is it really necessary here?

Suddenly, from a gap between the endless tress, she thought she saw a flickering light. Immediately and without regard for the two menshe had left behind, she started to follow it; her arms and hands burned with splinters, her toes numb and useless, tripping on roots, crying out voicelessly. The light grew a little stronger; the trees were thinning, and her whole upper body jumped with relief that she might be nearing the edge of the forest. She ran now, tripping and falling hard once or twice,
but when she came to the source of the light she was even deeper in the forest than she had ever been, and what she saw nearly made her fall to her knees.

Sorry, my rebellious brain decided to play it's games, again, here. I wasn't aware toes could cry out – even voicelessly...

It was a clearing ringed with a black, oily pool, and the light she had followed came from thousands of glowing insects feeding on fat tuber plants floating on the water. The trees were so tall that they arched above her, their boughs meeting in a lattice, a firm hold that blocked all light. The silvery bark gave the place a weak glow, even colder than the electrum lights, and it was filled with an uproarious, unnerving clicking noise from the hungry insects. There was a breeze blowing from somewhere, and the high boughs of the trees creaked above her. She raised her gaze.

I really like this para; it drew me in and left me wanting more.

From the tallest trees came thick vines, and from those vines hung people; their legs and arms splayed, heads forward, tongues protruding and glistening in the silvery light. Ezia had heard of this: these were the Dead Trees. Dante had been here once but refused to say anything else of it, and now she could understand why: it was at once the most disturbing and beautiful sight Ezia had ever seen. She stepped into the clearing, and her path closed behind her, and out of a compulsion she could not place, she sheathed her knife and began to climb the nearest tree, the splinters digging sharply into her palm. Desperation filled
her, an intoxicating kind of sheer panic, the adrenalin of a do-or-die
situation, and she climbed as she had never climbed before, feeling her stiff limbs creak, 'and,' here? The sentence sounds slightly choppy without it – it could just be personal preference, though. her
muscles start to tear. She knew who it was before she could even? see his face clearly; forcing herself onto the lower branch, she hauled herself along until she was breathing so hard it felt like her ribs would crack, and? her diaphragm tear clean off. She caught the spinning corpse by the chin. Her father’s empty eyes stared back at her.

Even though I found things in this para which jarred slightly, I absolutely loved the imagery, and where it lead me.

I think the only reason I felt the inclusion of 'and' was necessary in those two instances, was in order to complete the sentence. Without its inclusion, I'd expected each one to continue beyond another comma. For example: ...breathing so hard it felt like her ribs would crack, her diaphragm tear clean off, and her her lungs explode through her back. Once again, this could just be down to personal taste.

His skin was pale and bloodless, slick with the heavy damp that permeated this horrible place, but otherwise he looked no different than Ezia remembered: black hair down to his shoulders, a neat moustache, watery green eyes and a birthspot on his cheek that he always picked at. His tongue poked from between his cracked lips and the whites of his eyes were stained blood-red, but he was still her papiu, as if he had died that very day and the last seventeen years had only been a minute.

Excellent! I thoroughly enjoyed this para.

Ezia knew what she had to do; her knees failing her, she leapt to the branch that her father hung from. Working her knife out of its sheath with one hand, the other hanging on for dear life, she began hacking at the vine. She sliced her arm more than once in her haste; to steady her grip, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders and felt her muscles rip as she took one more almighty heave at the vine. It made no difference. The trees seemed closer; branches poked her lower back and breasts, leaves brushing her ankles and the air growing heavy and solid, like ice. She was no longer hanging; the trees scraped her, ripped at her clothing and held her up: she closed her ice and plunged her knife into the vine one last time, before her strength failed and a deeper, more sinister darkness engulfed her.

She closed her ice? Typo?



The piece on a whole is very well written, and flows well; I enjoyed it, and would definitely want to continue reading.

Personally, I enjoyed the detail very much. I don't mind lots of detail, as long as it keeps me captivated – and you managed it with this. More importantly, I didn't find myself becoming bored in the slightest – in fact it was very much the opposite; I was left drooling in anticipation of what would come next.

My verdict is: A strong, well written scene which draws in the reader, tantalises and teases, before it leaves them begging for more – and only requires minimal tweaking. Well done, Sir ... erm ... Madam, maybe? Oops!

[allmywires]

Thanks Scott, that was very helpful. and it's Madam for future reference

[Bowler1]

Well Madam, I did say there would be members that would like your style, I think you found one!

[paradoxical]

Not sharp enough for a tense scene. eg: "It was a cold determination that took her" although short, is long winded. Add more thrust. "Cold determination took her" is more than enough. You don't need to tell us that it was, just that it is.

"Suddenly, from a gap between the endless tress, she thought she saw a flickering light. Immediately and without regard for the two men she had left behind, she started to follow it; her arms and hands burned with splinters, her toes numb and useless, tripping on roots, crying out voicelessly."

Again, needs to be sharper. i.e: "Suddenly a gap in the trees - light flickering in-between? She moved to follow it, her two companions forgotten."

splinters don't burn, your toes don't trip on roots, you do, and what do you mean by crying out voicelessly? Her burning hands, the roots, numb toes? It's unclear.

[springs]

Crying out voicelessly I loved. I could see it, the breath coming up and getting stuck in her throat, the silent fear. I think there is a danger of removing what makes this piece so nice - the evocative description, the closeness of the scene. It does need tightened, i think most critiquers have picked up on that and All my wires has commented that she will be editing on the basis of that feedback.
But I think there is a real danger of changing on an individual style that works on many levels.

[I, Brian]

I read the first two paragraphs but didn't feel any sense of tension, and instead felt bogged done by an over-use of description. There are a ton of verbs that don't really tell us anything, and seem to be being used to compensate for lack of character viewpoint.

Remember, tension in a novel or short story does not come from watching events in a detached manner, but instead from character thoughts and experiences.

In this section, you touch on the character thinking, as if we're inside her head, but we never get to read what she's actually feeling - instead, you're trying to write it like watching a film with periodic "she thought" thrown in as if an after thought that this is supposed to be a story, not a film script.

I'm not trying to be hard or harsh - it's exactly what I was criticised for when I first put a piece up for critique here.

More to the point, the criticisms were right.

I think you have a good back drop for your story - but that to really bring it alive you have to put us in the character's head, and by that, describe what they are feeling.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with writing in Third Person Omniscient instead of Third Person Limited - but even then, omniscient writing develops tension by giving the reader contrasting character thoughts - through that conflict, tension is derived - cf Frank Herbert's Dune to see how this is done brilliantly in the first few chapters.

[RJM Corbet]

Ed McBain's advice on how to create tension is to have a ticking clock/time bomb effect built in.

It's something a natural storyteller instinctively knows, but to me it instantly revealed everything.

I suddenly understand, from just that one observation, what my own work lacks. So now the idea is gestating there in my little brain until the way comes to me to do it, and I know I can't progress without it ...

EDIT: And sorry Almy, I know it's not what you asked, where I seem to agree with the general concensus that at least two adjectives in three are due for the chop?

[allmywires]

Originally Posted by I, Brian

In this section, you touch on the character thinking, as if we're inside her head, but we never get to read what she's actually feeling - instead, you're trying to write it like watching a film with periodic "she thought" thrown in as if an after thought that this is supposed to be a story, not a film script.

The problem is when I write a scene, I want the audience to know exactly what this place is like, and what it should feel like - which is not right, of course, because the audience has to form their own opinions of your world. I just don't want the descriptors to be lacking, but evidently that is not my problem. I'm working on it, but it's hard for me.

Thanks anyway though.