posted
This is a new fantasy piece I just got finished roughing in. How does the intro feel?
They had all come to dream. Twelve drunken lords and ladies filed into the room, chattering and giggling. Sebastapol sat behind the curtain. Fighting the orb, he closed his eyes, but it still cast his reflection. His handsome face, after three hundred years, showed the first wrinkles around his eyes. His magic was fading. He heard his assistant ushering the high-flown audience to their sofas. Sebastapol grasped the dream orb that his knuckles burned to clutch, opened the curtain, and stepped into the center of the room. Swirling ribbons of electric thread spidered out from the orb. He raised the orb and sent the audience into their dreams. Their bodies writhed in orgiastic oblivion.
*Edited for typo*
[This message has been edited by Bent Tree (edited April 15, 2008).]
And "fighting the orb" is maybe a little out of place and confusing...I dont think we know there is an orb, or have any idea why he'd be fighting it, and it doesnt show up again till right at the end.
quote:They had all come to dream. (Awesome first line)Twelve drunken lords and ladies filed into the room, chattering and giggling. Sebastapol (I had to stop reading and sound this out. It's risky to use a name like this)sat behind the curtain. Fighting the orb, he closed his eyes, but it still cast his reflection. (How did he know if he closed his eyes? Everything comes from character)His handsome face, after three hundred years, showed the first wrinkles around his eyes. His magic was fading. He heard (If you're in his POV, then you don't need this words. Everything comes from character, I know "he heard)his assistant ushering the high-flown audience to their sofas. Sebastapol grasped the dream orb that his knuckles burned to clutch,(I'm not sure what you mean. Did the orb burn his knuckles, or did he really want to touch it?) opened the curtain, and stepped into the center of the room. Swirling ribbons of electric thread spidered out from the orb. He raised the orb and sent the audience into their dreams. Their bodies writhed in orgiastic oblivion.
I like this.
I am wondering what the room looks like, and I'm not quite sure what my setting is. I think this is a medieval fantasy setting, but lords and ladies exist today as well.
So, to your question: The into feels intriguing, if a bit confusing.
posted
It felt good to me. The drunken, chattering and giggling, gave me the sense of royalty going to their little parties and being all caught up in only themselves.
I did stumble on the name Sebastapol. The fighting the orb line was also abrupt to me. As far as the knuckles burned to clutch, I took burned as were eager, or yearned.
posted
I like the opening--it's definitely intriguing, but thought it could be a little sharper. For me, the name "Sebastapol" is a big hiccup, mostly because there's a town near here by that name.
They had all come to dream. Twelve drunken lords and ladies filed into the room, chattering and giggling. Sebastapol sat behind the curtain. Fighting the orb, he closed his eyes, but it still cast his reflection. His handsome face, after three hundred years, showed the first wrinkles around his eyes. His magic was fading.I had a hard time figuring out what you mean by the previous three lines. I'm not sure how he's fighting the orb exactly. Does he feel it in his mind? Is the orb suppressing his actions, or is it somehow making him age faster? "It still cast his reflection"--on its surface or in his mind's eye, since he's already closed his eyes, and if in his mind's eye, why might it not let him see the people coming in? For that matter, how does he see what happens next? This moment seems pretty critical to your set up--I think you have enough of a hook here that you could afford to spend a few more words to clarify this and how the orb is fighting him. For all I know it would be flying around battering him. He heard his assistant ushering the high-flown audience not sure what" high flown} means to their sofas. Sebastapol grasped the dream orb that his knuckles burned to clutch This felt overwritten to me. How does one's knuckles clutch anything to begin with, and to have them burn to clutch just seems like an overwritten cliche., opened the curtain, and stepped into the center of the room. Swirling ribbons of electric thread spidered out from the orb. He raised the orb and sent the audience into their dreams. I wasn't clear here. Had he opened his eyes already? How is he seeing this? Again, I think you can afford to slow down. The scene you are presenting is unusual enough--I would read on even without knowing yet what effect the orb has. Their bodies writhed in orgiastic oblivion.I'm waffling on the last two words. It feels overwritten to me, and somewhat meaningless, except that it sounds dramatic. But there's a certain amount of poetic license, I suppose. Ultimately, I'm not sure what to make of it.
posted
Thank you all for the comments. In this world, the magic users have the powers to cast druglike dreams. It is a source of income, and they do it for the elite. The society of casters has a dark side however. Don't want to reveal too much.
posted
I like the concept of the story and the images, but I think it's flickering between omniscient and 3rd person limited POV.
Maybe MC can achieve out-of-body experiences and this is a kind of 3rd person limited that's authentic in this world; but that might be a hard trick to pull off and probably needs to be clear from the start.
Hope this helps, Pat
[This message has been edited by TaleSpinner (edited April 15, 2008).]
posted
Thank you very much for your offer. I think I will hold off on sending this out until the final draft is ready. Since it is such a long piece, I don't want to hurt any more eyes than nescessary. If it is ok I will send it to you then.
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