Monday, January 26, 2009

First Chapter Critique #2

TITLE: Book of the Baba Yaga
GENRE: Middle reader fantasy/adventure
AUTHOR: Blodwyn



Samantha Liffey jumped back, barely avoiding the gaggle of elves, goblins, witches and sprites that tumbled out of the alehouse and into the crisp autumn evening.

“Toadspawn!” cursed a petite, rather plump witch. She steadied her tall, black pointed hat and aimed her wand at Sam. “Look out, young sorceress, lest danger befall you!”

Sam rolled her eyes and pushed past the witch. Oh, how she loathed the Salem Halloween Festival. Grown people dressed as warlocks, wizards, fairies…come on. Next year, her older sister was just going to have to find someone else to drag with her.

And of course Abby had vanished just after they’d gotten through the gates. She’d probably gone off to the fortune-teller’s hut to hear her love forecast, or to the apothecary for some beauty-enhancing potion. Lately her sister’s mind ran on one track: boys. Not that she ever had a date, though. No one talked to the Liffey girls if they could avoid it.

Sam jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and shook her coppery, corkscrew hair out of her eyes. Enough of that. And make the best of it. That’s what Mom would have said. Sam pulled a golden necklace hung with a ruby spider charm out from under her sweater - the last gift Mom had ever given her. It was kinda goth. Maybe it would help her get into the spirit.

“Hi there, little girl, want to look at some toys?” A teenager with purple-streaked black hair waved a doll at her. Sam shook her head and walked on. Little girl? Give me a break. I’m twelve years old. I don’t play with dolls. She stopped at a stall selling witchy clothes and pulled a white, lacy gown off the rack. Now, this was more like it. She twirled, the dress fanning out in front of her.

“How lovely,” said an old woman with a toothless grin. “That color really brings out your dark eyes. Get some cream for those freckles, dearie, and you could look almost pretty!”

Almost pretty? Sam gave the old woman the meanest glare she could muster and stuffed the dress back on the rack. She ducked around the stand as the buzz of voices swirled around her.

Turning the corner, she spotted a bright purple tent at the very back of the festival. Shimmering in the fading sunlight, it stood in sharp contrast to the busy, open stalls surrounding it.

Sam frowned, squinting. It looked abandoned. No one was going in or out. Interesting. Maybe it was some relic of last year's festival. She headed down the row, moving this way and that to avoid the jostling, talkative, mirthful crowd. Her feet kicked up clouds of dust and the scents of kettle corn and mulled mead washed over her in waves.

As she neared the tent, an abrupt stillness fell, just as if someone had hit “mute” on a TV remote. No one laughed, talked, shouted or cried, and no one walked near the tent. In fact, no one even looked at it. It was like the tent wasn’t even really there.

Sam stood in front of the entrance and studied it. Should she go in?

Suddenly, the ground seemed to jerk under her feet, and she stumbled forward, catching herself on the tent flap. An earthquake? In Massachusetts? The pendant around her neck felt warm. Looking down, she saw that it glowed scarlet.

Get out of here. The words came to Sam's mind as clearly as if someone had spoken. Her legs felt like rubber, but she forced them to move back toward the pathway. Turning, she tried to run, but the tent materialized like magic in front of her. Her head began to pound. She moved to the left and then to the right, but the tent moved with her. She twisted this way and that, but everywhere she turned, the tent blocked her path.

"Help! Someone help me!" she yelled around her heart, which seemed to have moved up through her neck and lodged into her throat. She waved her arms, but everyone just kept on walking by. Had she become invisible? "Help! I need help!" she shrieked.

The pendant on her neck grew warmer until it felt hot enough to be on fire, but it didn’t burn her skin. She felt it tug gently against her throat, pulling toward the tent’s entrance.

“Help!” Sam shouted again, twisting inside the chain as the necklace began to pull harder.

“Sam!” Abby called in the distance.

“Abby!” Sam screamed, her voice strangled by the necklace. “Hurry!” She saw her sister dart toward her through the crowd, her long, dark blonde hair streaming behind her. She reached Sam in large strides that were more like leaps. Grabbing Sam around the shoulders, she tried to pull her away from the tent.

“Help!” Sam and Abby screamed together, but the crowd didn’t take any notice of them. The necklace pulled harder and harder at Sam’s neck until the force broke Abby’s grip. Sam fell through the tent flap and into the darkness inside. The pendant dropped back against her chest with a small thud.

“Ouch!” Sam slammed into a table. A candle flickered to life, casting eerie shadows against the walls of the tent. The air felt cold and damp, like the inside of a cave.

“S-Sam?” Abby asked from outside. “A-are you okay?”

“I think so,” said Sam, rubbing her hip. Turning toward the entrance, she yanked at the tent flap but it didn’t budge. “It won’t open, Abby!” What was going on? She heard her sister shouting for help outside.

Sam pounded on the tent flap. “Get me out of here!”

“Sam - no one's answering me, and I can't seem to move away from this tent. It's like I hit a solid wall of air. I’m going to try to pull you out,” said Abby, her voice sounding breathless. “Take my hand, okay?” She reached in through the doorway and Sam grabbed her hand.

Instantly, the pendant came to life, tugging at Sam’s neck until she fell backward, wrenching Abby through the entrance and into the tent. Sam hit the table again and Abby landed on top of her. Pain shot up Sam’s back and the pendant fell, lifeless, against her chest.

“Oh, no,” Abby whispered, standing up and pulling Sam after her.

Sam squinted into the dim light. Now what?

“Hello?” she asked. No answer. She swallowed hard against the dryness of her throat. What was this place?

Abby squeezed her hand as the two girls looked around. Sam’s eyes found a glimmering crystal skull sitting on the table. She bent closer. Inside each of its deep eye sockets sat a brilliant red ruby. Pulling her hand from Abby’s, Sam tapped the skull between its eyes. It felt smooth and cold.

Her breathing slowed. This didn’t seem so scary. In fact it seemed…homelike, familiar. She shook her head from side to side. It felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. She hummed a little under her breath, feeling her shoulders relax. Nothing in this tent could hurt her. She was too powerful, too cunning, too brave…

“I think you’d better leave that alone,” said Abby. Her voice sounded as though it came from far away. Sam looked up. Her sister had her hands clasped in front of her stomach.

Abby has always been a little bit chicken, Sam thought as she ran her finger down the skull’s cheekbone. She’s always liked her magic best faked. But I like my magic to be real.

“I said, stop touching that,” hissed Abby.

Sam pulled her hand away from the skull. No need to make Abby pitch a fit and spoil the mood. She picked up a small blue book that lay next to the skull. Silver spirals covered its surface, and they appeared to be moving. The book began to vibrate. Sam tilted the book toward the candlelight.

“Stop it!” Abby begged. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t know what any of it is!”

Oh, bother. Abby had no spine.

Sam did, though. She opened the book.

"I just want to take a quick look," she said. A brilliant white glow emanated from the pages, causing the shadows on the wall to grow.

Sam’s mouth fell open as words began to form in golden letters on the first page. Book of the Baba Yaga, they read. She leaned closer - smaller letters were forming under the title. By Samantha Liffey.

"What does it say?" asked Abby, her voice sounding fearful. Sam looked up. Just then, a large, hairy red spider dropped from the ceiling onto Abby’s arm. She yelled and brushed it off as Sam dropped the book. The spider scuttled away in the darkness.

Sam heard a rushing sound, like that of a strong wave hitting the beach, and her mind cleared as though a fog had lifted. She pressed a hand to her forehead. What had come over her? Her heart, which had been beating a slow, steady rhythm, began to pick up its pace until it pounded in her ears.

“Let’s get out of this place, now!” Abby clutched Sam’s hand convulsively and pulled her toward the tent flap, but Sam’s foot caught the table leg; she fell and the table overturned. Abby leaped out of the way as the skull crashed to the floor and its eye sockets lit up, flooding the tent with light.

Pushing herself to her knees, Sam crammed her hand over her mouth to block the ferocious scream that threatened to fill the air. She had landed right on a yellowed doll with brown hair that fell to his waist. He had thin, black lines for eyes, a misshapen, crumbling nose and a flattened, crooked mouth. A leather shirt and pants decorated with beads and jewels covered his body. Sam almost stopped breathing as she studied the doll. She caught a faint moldy, musty smell like that of an attic. I know this doll, she thought. But how? With trembling hands she lifted him from the floor.

The doll’s eyes snapped open. He grinned at her.

“Hello, Samantha,” he said. “How good to see you. You’ve kept us waiting for a long, long time.”

15 comments:

  1. I like this, and the creepy doll at the end hooked me enough to want to know what happens next, but there are parts that feel overwritten and keep it from being as strong as it could be. Some suggestions:

    **She steadied her tall, black pointed hat** Just 'pointed' would create the picture you want; you don't need three adjectives.

    **Not that she ever had a date, though.** Delete 'though'.

    **her coppery, corkscrew hair** This is a POV slip; she wouldn't think about her own hair color. You could have the old woman mention it along with the dark eyes and freckles and it wouldn't feel quite so forced. (Maybe she could mention it instead of the eyes; describing both hair and eyes might be too much and the reader probably doesn't care what color her eyes are.)

    **Sam gave the old woman the meanest glare she could muster** Sam glared at the old woman

    The next couple of paragraphs where she discovers the tent aren't as active or clear as they could be. The reader should feel like they are experiencing everything along with Sam, and it doesn't right now.

    Maybe: Sam turned the corner. A bright purple tent stood at the very back of the festival. It shimmered in the fading sunlight, in sharp contrast to the other stalls.

    Sam squinted. No one was going in or out. Interesting. Maybe it was some abandoned relic of last year's festival.

    **She headed down the row, moving this way and that to avoid the jostling, talkative, mirthful crowd.** This sentence could be tighter and pick only one adjective to describe the crowd.

    **Her feet kicked up clouds of dust and the scents of kettle corn and mulled mead washed over her in waves.** I like this description; you can cut 'in waves' though.

    **Sam stood in front of the entrance and studied it. Should she go in?** 'and studied it' isn't needed.

    **the ground seemed to jerk under** the ground jerked under

    Watch out for sentences starting with 'ing' phrases and try to revise as many as you can: **Looking down, she saw** She looked down and saw

    **Her head began to pound.** Her head pounded. ('began to' can almost always be cut)

    **She felt it tug gently** It tugged gently

    **twisting inside the chain as the necklace began to pull harder.** a little unclear, maybe: twisting her neck as the pendant pulled harder

    **She saw her sister dart toward her through the crowd, her long, dark blonde hair streaming behind her.** Her sister darted through the crowd, her long hair streaming behind her. (Sam wouldn't be thinking about hair color at a time like this; work it in somewhere else.)

    **Grabbing Sam around the shoulders, she tried** She grabbed Sam's shoulders and tried

    **She heard her sister shouting for help outside.** "Help!" Abby shouted outside.

    There are other spots that could be tightened and you might want to think about getting to the book and doll a little faster if you can, but I hope this helps.

    Good luck and thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. **Not that she ever had a date, though.** Delete 'though'.

    I'm glad you said that Melinda. That was one of the first things I noticed, too.

    In fact, I agree with almost everything Melinda said.

    This is a good opening scene for your story. I'm concerned, however, by the number of adjectives used.

    Instead of describing with adjectives, put the reader in the scene by making him/her experience it with the character.

    Also, when you tag your dialogue, it's best to use the noun before the verb. It's not a hard-and-fast rule, but it flows better.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I’ve read this before and I still absolutely love it. It’s a great story. It’s well written and I love the characters. Mainly Sam, but I particularly love the ending with the doll. I would definitely read on and I’m sure this would appeal to young boys as well as girls.

    I’m really hooked. I’ll just point out a few areas where it could be tightened though. There are a few sentences that are a little bulky. I’ll try to trim them.

    Firstly, I love the opening.

    Maybe take out a few of the extra words.

    “Toadspawn!” cursed a (Too much description of the witch. I would take out the word petite) petite, rather plump witch. She steadied her (I would just say pointed hat, no need for color.)tall, black pointed hat and aimed her wand at Sam. “Look out, young sorceress, lest danger befall you!”

    Sam rolled her eyes and pushed past the witch. Oh, how she loathed the Salem Halloween Festival. Grown people dressed as warlocks, wizards, fairies…come on. Next year, her older sister would (Delete>>was just going to) have to find someone else to drag along. (Delete>> with her.)

    (Delete>>And of course) (Start here>>Abby had vanished soon (Delete>just) after they’d(Delete> gotten) gone through the gates. She was probably getting her fortune read and hoping to buy some crazy love potion. It would be something to do with boys. (Delete>>She’d probably gone off to the fortune-teller’s hut to hear her love forecast, or to the apothecary for some beauty-enhancing potion.) Lately her sister’s mind ran on one track: boys. Not that she ever had a date, though. No one talked to the Liffey girls if they could avoid it.

    Sam jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and shook her copper (Delete>>coppery, corkscrew) hair out of her eyes. (Enough of what?>>Enough of that. And make the best of it. That’s what Mom would have said. Sam pulled a golden necklace hung with a ruby spider charm out from under her sweater - the last gift Mom had ever given her. It was kinda goth. Maybe it would help her get into the spirit.

    “Hi there, little girl, want to look at some toys?” A teenager with purple (Delete>-streaked black) hair waved a doll at her. Sam shook her head and walked on. Little girl? Give me a break. I’m twelve years old. I don’t play with dolls. She stopped at a stall selling witchy clothes and pulled a white, lacy gown off the rack. Now, this was more like it. She twirled, the dress fanning out in front of her.

    “How lovely,” said an old woman with a toothless grin. “That color really brings out your dark eyes. Get some cream for those freckles, dearie, and you could look almost pretty!”

    Almost pretty? Sam gave the old woman her (Delete>the) meanest squinty eyed glare (Delete>she could muster) and stuffed the dress back on the rack. She ducked around the stand as the buzz of voices swirled around her.

    Turning the corner, she spotted a bright purple tent at the (Don’t need this word>>very) back of the festival. Shimmering in the fading sunlight, it stood in sharp contrast to the busy, open stalls surrounding it.

    Sam frowned, (Delete>.squinting.) It looked abandoned. No one was going in or out. Interesting, she thought. Maybe it was some relic of last year's festival. She zigzagged through (Delete> headed down the row, moving this way and that to avoid) the jostling, (Delete>talkative, mirthful) crowd. Her feet kicked up clouds of dust and the scents of kettle corn and mulled mead washed over her in waves.

    As she neared the tent, an abrupt stillness fell, (These words are not needed and bulk up the story. Delete>>just as if someone had hit “mute” on a TV remote. No one laughed, talked, shouted or cried, and) no one walked near the tent. In fact, no one even looked at it. It was like the tent wasn’t even really there.

    Sam stood in front of the entrance and studied it. Should she go in?

    Suddenly, the ground seemed to jerk under her feet, and she stumbled forward, catching herself on the tent flap. An earthquake? In Massachusetts? The pendant around her neck felt warm. (Delete>>Looking down, she saw that) It seemed to glow a beautiful (Delete> glowed) scarlet.

    Get out of here. The words came to Sam's mind as clearly as if someone had spoken. Her legs felt like rubber, but she forced them to move back toward the pathway. Turning, she tried to run, but the tent materialized like magic in front of her. Her head began to pound. She moved to the left and then to the right, but the tent moved with her. She twisted this way and that, but everywhere she turned, the tent blocked her path.

    "Help! Someone help me!" she yelled(This sounds a little awkward>> around her heart, which seemed to have moved up through her neck and lodged into her throat.) She waved her arms, but everyone (Delete>just) kept (Delete>on) walking by. Had she become invisible? "Help! I need help!" she shrieked.

    The pendant on her neck grew warmer until it felt hot enough to be on fire, but it didn’t burn her skin. She felt it tug gently against her throat, pulling toward the tent’s entrance.

    “Help!” Sam shouted again, (Deletetwisting inside the chain) as the necklace began to pull harder.

    “Sam!” Abby called in the distance.

    “Abby!” Sam screamed, her voice strangled by the necklace. “Hurry!” She saw her sister dart toward her through the crowd, her long,(Delete>>> dark blonde) hair streamed (Delete.ing) behind her. She leaped toward (Delete>reached) Sam (Delete>>in large strides that were more like leaps.) She Grabbed (Delete>ing) Sam around the shoulders, she tried to pull her away from the tent.

    “Help!” Sam and Abby screamed together, but the crowd didn’t take any notice of them. The necklace pulled harder and harder at Sam’s neck until the force broke Abby’s grip. Sam fell through the tent flap and into the darkness inside. The pendant dropped back against her chest with a small thud.

    “Ouch!” Sam slammed into a table. A candle flickered to life, casting eerie shadows against the walls of the tent. The air felt cold and damp, like the inside of a cave.

    “S-Sam?” Abby asked from outside. “A-are you okay?”

    “I think so,” said Sam, rubbing her hip. Turning toward the entrance, she yanked at the tent flap but it didn’t budge. “It won’t open, Abby!” What was going on? She heard her sister shouting for help outside.

    Sam pounded on the tent flap. “Get me out of here!”

    “Sam - no one's answering me, and I can't seem to move away from this tent. It's like I hit a solid wall of air. I’m going to try to pull you out,” said Abby, her voice sounding breathless. “Take my hand, okay?” She reached in through the doorway and Sam grabbed her hand.

    Instantly, the pendant came to life, tugging at Sam’s neck until she fell backward, wrenching Abby through the entrance and into the tent. Sam hit the table again and Abby landed on top of her. Pain shot up Sam’s back and the pendant fell, lifeless, against her chest.

    “Oh, no,” Abby whispered, standing up and pulling Sam after her.

    Sam squinted into the dim light. Now what?

    “Hello?” she asked. No answer. She swallowed hard against the dryness of her throat. What was this place?

    When Abby squeezed her hand, Sam pulled away to look closer at (Delete>> as the two girls looked around. Sam’s eyes found) a glimmering crystal skull sitting on the table. (Delete>She bent closer.) Inside each of its deep eye sockets sat a brilliant red ruby. (Delete>Pulling her hand from Abby’s, Sam) She tapped the skull between its eyes. It felt smooth and cold.

    Her breathing slowed. This didn’t seem so scary. In fact it seemed…homelike, familiar. (I’ve heard that agents don’t like the shaking of a head to clear it>>She shook her head from side to side. It felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls.) She hummed a little under her breath, feeling her shoulders relax. Nothing in this tent could hurt her. She was too powerful, too cunning, too brave…

    “I think you’d better leave that alone,” said Abby. Her voice sounded as though it came from far away. Sam looked up. Her sister held (Delete> had her hands clasped in front of) her stomach.

    Abby has always been a little bit chicken, Sam thought as she ran her finger down the skull’s cheekbone. She’s always liked her magic best faked. But I like my magic to be real.

    “I said, stop touching that,” hissed Abby.

    Sam pulled her hand away from the skull. No need to make Abby pitch a fit and spoil the mood. She picked up a small blue book that lay next to the skull. Silver spirals covered its surface. (Delete>, and t)They appeared to be moving. The book (Delete>The book began to vibrate.) Sam tilted the shaking book toward the candlelight.

    “Stop it!” Abby begged. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t know what any of it is!”

    Oh, bother. Abby had no spine.

    (Delete>Sam did, though. She) Sam fearlessly opened the book.

    "I just want to take a quick look," she said. A brilliant white glow emanated from the pages, causing the shadows on the wall to grow.

    Sam’s mouth fell open as words formed (began to form) in golden letters on the first page. Book of the Baba Yaga, they read. She leaned closer - smaller letters were forming under the title. By Samantha Liffey.

    "What does it say?" asked Abby, her voice sounding fearful. Sam looked up. Just then, a large, hairy red spider dropped from the ceiling onto Abby’s arm. She yelled and brushed it off as Sam dropped the book. The spider scuttled away in the darkness.

    Sam heard a rushing sound, like that of a strong wave hitting the beach, and her mind cleared as though a fog had lifted. She pressed a hand to her forehead. What had come over her? Her heart, which had been beating a slow, steady rhythm, began to pick up its pace until it pounded in her ears.

    “Let’s get out of this place, now!” Abby clutched Sam’s hand convulsively and pulled her toward the tent flap, but Sam’s foot caught the table leg; she fell and the table overturned. Abby leaped out of the way as the skull crashed to the floor. (Delete>and i) Its eye sockets lit up, flooding the tent with light.

    Pushing herself to her knees, Sam screamed (Too wordy Delete>crammed her hand over her mouth to block the ferocious scream that threatened to fill the air.) She (Delete> had) landed (Delete>right) on a yellowed doll with waist length brown hair. (Delete>that fell to his waist.) He had thin, black lines for eyes, a misshapen, crumbling nose and a (Delete>flattened, crooked mouth. A leather shirt and pants decorated with beads and jewels covered his body. Sam almost gasped and (Delete>stopped breathing as she) studied the doll. (Delete>She caught a faint) smelt moldy and musty, like the smell (Delete>like that) of an attic. I know this doll, she thought. But how? With trembling hands she lifted him from the floor.

    The doll’s eyes snapped open. He grinned. (Delete> at her.)

    “Hello, Samantha,” he said. “How good to see you. You’ve kept us waiting for a long, long time.”

    ReplyDelete
  4. I don't have time for a really detailed crit, but I wanted to give a few of my thoughts.

    First of all, the beginning is a bit of a fake hook, IMO. Sam gets thrown out of a alehouse full with elves, goblins etc., and a moment later we understand it's people dressed up. Putting the reader on the wrong foot in the opening can work, especially if it is followed by another twist. IMO, it doesn't work here. I got disappointed, and then had to wait some time till we got to the actual hook, the purple tent.

    If I can make a suggestion (and feel free to ignore!) I'd suggest to start with Sam walking past that tent, and sensing it's silence, strangeness etc. Then let her wander around the festival, but let the memory of the tent linger, as some foreshadowing, before returning to it.

    Once we get inside the tent, it's compelling and a good hook.

    Abby came out of nowhere, by the way. I'd like to see through Sam's eyes that she was around there, somehow.

    Oh, and I saw the talking doll in one of the contests here, and that doll still freaks me out.

    Thanks for sharing!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Sorry, Blodwyn, I added some words in bold, but I didn't realise it wouldn't show up in bold.

    ReplyDelete
  6. A great first chapter, and I would definately read more. I like the idea of the pendant having powers, and I like Sam's voice.

    I agree with many of the comments above, and I would only add a few things.

    The part when they are in the tent bothers me a bit. I feel like it should be intense--correct me if I'm wrong--but it's more comical. Particularly the way that Abby keeps falling down--it was almost like the Keystone Cops in my mind.

    The doll is super creepy. Like I said, I would certainly want to read more. Good job!

    ReplyDelete
  7. I agree with the other comments. I think the idea is a good one that could be developed, but I agree that it's a bit overwritten.

    In particular, you seem to be telling the reader what they should be thinking. It's especially noticable with the several questions Sam, or the narrator, asks, i.e., "Should she go in?" "I know this doll. But how?" etc. I would suggest cutting every one of those questions because the reader is most likely going to be asking those questions as they read.

    I think you could trim at least 20% of the narrative and have a much leaner and stronger story.

    Just my 2 cents worth.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hi Blodwyn,

    I tried posting earlier, but my comments seem to have disappeared. As a disclaimer, I'm not familar with the middle reader genre, so take what comments you find helpful and discard the rest.

    Strong Points: I thought the writing flowed well, and it seemed suitable for the age level you're targeting. Sam does sound like a tweleve-year-old to me (not that I know many of them). I like that you used different senses to help set the scene. You raise some interesting story questions that would keep me reading. If you wanted to creep your readers out, you succeeded! I also like the way that Sam acted as if she was possessed.

    Suggestions for Improvement: To me, the story didn't really start until Sam reached the purple tent. Although the first part of the story raised some interesting character questions (such as why no one spoke to Sam or Abby and what happened to their mother), I think you could cut most, if not all, of it.

    I agree with the previous posters that you could cut some of the adjectives.

    It seemed odd to me that Sam liked the white lacy dress. She doesn't seem interested in boys like her older sister, and judging by the spider pendant, Sam's tastes run more to goth things.

    How big is the area of stillness around the purple tent?

    When the voice speaks in her mind, does it sound like someone different? (For example, does it remind Sam of her mother?)

    I agree with Luc2 that Abby came out of nowhere. I would have thought she was out of earshot. Or are you trying to suggest that the girls have a special link?

    Why didn't the pendant pull both girls into the tent the first time? It seems to be strong enough to do so. And how can it pull backward? Did it shift around to lay on Sam's back?

    Is the candle on the same table as the skull? If so, why didn't Sam see the skull right away?

    How does Sam react when she sees her name on the book?

    Where does the doll come from? How big is it?


    I hope this is helpful. Good luck with your story!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Overall comments:

    Clear setting and world building, and I like how you get right into the action without too much build up. And gotta say that the creepy talking doll is…well…creepy! So a very solid beginning--good job! Sam has a good voice--feisty with just a touch of angst. I would, however, watch your language level if this is a MG book. Words like "apothecary" and "mirthful" might be unfamiliar to them and jar them out of your narrative. Also, most kids aren't going to know what "mulled mead" smells like, so that description would be lost on them.


    Couple of line-by-line comments:

    1) petite, rather plump witch is a contradiction. "Petite" implies small, not short. Perhaps a more apropos description would be "a short, rather plump witch"

    2) a golden necklace hung with a ruby spider charm This implies that the chain is hung by the charm, which I don't think is quite what you meant. Perhaps: a golden chain with a ruby spider charm"

    3) “Hi there, little girl, want to look at some toys?” Not sure if this is intentional or not, but this line comes across as rather stalker-ish and kinda made me think of something a pedophile would say. For an MG novel, I'd definitely recommend rewording this line a bit.

    4) she yelled around her heart, which seemed to have moved up through her neck and lodged into her throat. I get what you're going for, but this sounds awkwardly phrased and physically isn't possible.

    5) During the "pulling into the tent scene," you had solid descriptions of what was happening, but I'd like to also see some of her fear coming through. Not to overdo it, but give us a sense of what's going through Sam's head. Also, during this scene, I couldn't help wondering why neither Sam nor Abby tried to remove the necklace from Sam's neck? Finally, once Same was in the tent, I was surprised that Abby asked if Sam was okay, rather than trying to run after her into the tent to check for herself.

    6) She was too powerful, too cunning, too brave… Feels a bit out of Sam's voice, IMHO. Oh, bother. Abby had no spine. "Bother" always reminds me of Winnie the Pooh and the way he'd say this word whenever anything troublesome happened. Likewise, it doesn't feel like it fits comfortably in Sam's voice either. Also, What had come over her? feels too adult and mature for a twelve year old.

    7) smaller letters were forming under the title -- passive voice. Active voice: smaller letters formed under the title

    8) I'd like to see Sam have a reaction to seeing her name written on the book before the spider comes over. It's got to be a bit of a shock to her, seeing her name on a book she's never seen before and has no memory of ever writing.

    9) Abby clutched Sam’s hand convulsively and pulled her toward the tent flap, but Sam’s foot caught the table leg; she fell and the table overturned. I do it sometimes too, but semicolons are the most abused and misused punctuation mark in writing. This could really be two sentences-- each is complete with its own noun and verb and both are understandable units, so there's no reason they have to stay connected.

    10) Sam crammed her hand over her mouth to block the ferocious scream that threatened to fill the air. Feels like an overworked and melodramatic sentence, IMHO. This is MG, so keep it active, and keep it simple: She shoved a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.


    Hope these comments help. Good luck with your writing!



    Cheers!
    Lori

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  10. "petite, rather plump" doesn't sound right to me - maybe you mean "short, rather plump"

    I loved this: "She’d probably gone off to the fortune-teller’s hut to hear her love forecast, or to the apothecary for some beauty-enhancing potion. Lately her sister’s mind ran on one track: boys. Not that she ever had a date, though. No one talked to the Liffey girls if they could avoid it." My first reaction after reading the last sentence is "why?" - I'm sure that's what you're going for.

    I know what you're trying to say here, but it sounds cliche. I say that because I've read lots of sentences like this. Heck, even I have a sentence like this, "as if someone had hit 'mute' on a TV remote."

    I think you did this well: "Get out of here. The words came to Sam's mind as clearly as if someone had spoken. Her legs felt like rubber, but she forced them to move back toward the pathway. Turning, she tried to run, but the tent materialized like magic in front of her. Her head began to pound. She moved to the left and then to the right, but the tent moved with her. She twisted this way and that, but everywhere she turned, the tent blocked her path."

    "Sam hit the table again and Abby landed on top of her" - did she fall?

    "She was too powerful, too cunning, too brave…" - this doesn't sound like something a modern 12-year-old would say ...

    OK, you had me hooked until this sentence, "But I like my magic to be real." It didn't feel right. If Sam had liked her magic so real, she wouldn't have freaked out about the magically moving tent. I don't like how she says, "No need to make Abby pitch a fit and spoil the mood." I thought I knew what her mood was, but now it doesn't fit the character.

    But other than that ... fantastic ending!

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  11. I think that overall it was very good, but it needs fewer adverbs than what it has now and could be tightened in places.

    You did use "screamed" and "yelled" quite a bit, and I think some of those could be dropped to allow the dialogue to speak for itself.

    Also, when Abby's running towards the tent, I'd tighten it up:

    Abby darted towards her through the crowd, blonde hair streaming behind her. Grabbing Sam around the shoulders, she tried to pull her away from the tent.

    I'd take out "she's always liked her magic best faked" since the surrounding story shows this.

    You have an excellent ending and great imagery. I still would like to see the purple tent brought in sooner, even if she just catches a glimpse of it.

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  12. Well, I'm finally getting around to leaving feedback for you!

    This is the kind of story I would like to curl up and read, for sure. The biggest problem I see with this chapter is overwriting. (I know it well. It has been my friend these many years...)

    Let me try my hand at tightening your first few paragraphs (and do take this with a grain of salt, as it's off the cuff and only one of many opinions!):

    Samantha Liffey jumped back, barely avoiding the gaggle of elves, goblins, witches and sprites that tumbled out of the alehouse and into the crisp autumn evening.

    “Toadspawn!” cursed a petite, rather plump witch. She steadied her tall, black pointed hat and aimed her wand at Sam. “Look out, young sorceress, lest danger befall you!”

    Sam rolled her eyes and pushed past the witch. Oh, how she loathed the Salem Halloween Festival. Grown people dressed as warlocks, wizards, fairies…come on. Next year, her older sister was just going to have to find someone else to drag with her.


    Samantha Liffey jumped back, barely avoiding the gaggle of elves, goblins, witches, and sprites that tumbled out of the alehouse and into the crisp autumn evening.

    "Toadspawn!" The tiny, plump witch steadied her pointed hat and aimed her wand at Sam. "Look out, young sorceress, lest danger befall you!"

    Sam rolled her eyes and pushed past the witch. Next year, Sam's older sister was going to have to find someone else to drag to the Salem Halloween Festival.

    ----
    That's just one example of how your writing can be tightened. Be careful not to overdo the adjectives, or to write long, kinda clunky phrases that could be shortened and strengthened by using less and better words.

    Example:

    She headed down the row, moving this way and that to avoid the jostling, talkative, mirthful crowd.

    I know you want to describe the timbre of the crowd, but we don't need all 3 adjectives. Choose which description captures the predominant tone of the crowd. I think I would choose "jostling."

    When we get inside the tent (which is such a cool concept -- the utter stillness, the pendant pulling her in -- neat stuff!!), the action needs to be even tighter. As it stands, it moves too slowly, with too much detail. I understand where you're going and what you're trying to do -- and I like it! It's just too wordy, too slow. Go back through that scene and pare it down. I think that, once you do, you'll be amazed at the energy. Ultimately, you want your readers to BREATHLESSLY turn the page to chapter 2.

    The doll is uber-creepy. :)

    I love your imagination and this has so much potential. Thanks for being brave and vulnerable!

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  13. Very exciting. I love the atmostphere created by the Salem witch Festival and the foreshadowing that involves. I love her interaction with the setting but do agree with everyone about the overwriting and adjectives. We want to do it right so we overwrite. Guilty too.

    I'd hate to see you take away her interacting with the setting but I agree with everyone that bringing in the tent early would be good. How about she sees a purplish glow from over the market stands and fights with the crowd to see what it is, leaving Abby behind in the fortune teller's hut and thinking she'll only be gone a moment. Or, she sees the hut from imbetween rows and fights with the crowds to go see it. Then there is tension as she interacting with the crowds and hopefully the reader will be curious as to what the purple glow is too. And there would be the tension of leaving her sister behind.

    I think a lot happens in the tent. And sometimes to simplify what is happening makes for stronger writing, so I agree with everyone there too. In the tent there is the force pulling them in, the pendant, the book, the skull, the eerie silence, the hairy spider, the candle flickering to life, the doll. I would include only what is necessary for the story's sake and what will come later and use specific word choice to create the atmosphere and mystery to take the place of some of the magical happenings that maybe aren't needed in this scene and the over writing.

    I also suggest not using similis and metaphors in this kind of scene, unless you have to, as they tend to be more poetical. As others have stated: paring down.

    All that said I love the doll, the setting and how the tent moves, almost forcing Sam into it. Good addition.

    For example, I think the below paragraph is over-dramatized.

    Sam heard a rushing sound, like that of a strong wave hitting the beach, and her mind cleared as though a fog had lifted. She pressed a hand to her forehead. What had come over her? Her heart, which had been beating a slow, steady rhythm, began to pick up its pace until it pounded in her ears.

    You could take out the poetic devices and have a much stronger paragraph. I can't imagine that her heart was beating nice and slow either after everything that had happened so far.

    Excellent premise, promising so much more to happen in the story. So many unanswered questions with the tent and her name being on the book. I think its good that you didn't show Sam asking all these questions of herself. Great job.
    I think kids won't be able to stop turning the pages.

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  14. The first time I read this I got so caught up in the story that I couldn't think of anything to improve. Reading more carefully, I can see some places it could be tightened. But it looks like everyone else has pointed out where.

    I love this opening. It draws me right in. Great voice and tension. Lots of intriguing questions.

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  15. (Yes, I’m chiming in WAAAAAY late. Please forgive.)

    I definitely would read more of this, although I thought it got off to a bit of a slow start. I don’t remember who suggested it, but I like the idea of foreshadowing the tent at the very beginning, in the first graf, and then picking up on the description of the rest of the festival before circling back to the tent.

    I love the description of Sam’s hair, but I wonder if you couldn’t work that in either in dialogue directed at her by someone else (maybe her sister?) or later on. I’m sure that hair will be important to the story because you described it so lovingly, so do try to work it in early…but not quite in the way you did here. That seemed like a POV slip to me.

    Some of the dialogue does seem a bit too “old” for Sam, although that’s easily fixed. However, some 12-year-olds are unnaturally mature, too (the really scary ones), so maybe you should leave Sam’s thoughts and words alone. She’s your character and you know how to portray her best. :-)

    And of course Abby had vanished just after they’d gotten through the gates. What about “And of course Abby vanished as soon as they got through the gates”?

    I suspect the volume of “ing” words represents an attempt to vary sentence structure — always a good thing — but after the first few I found myself wincing every time I ran across one. I’m fairly sure we’re supposed to be creeped out by this chapter, but I’m equally sure you want the story, not the word choices, to accomplish that. ;-) Can you rework some of those sentences to boot the “ing” offenders?

    Sam frowned, squinting. Frowning and squinting often accompany one another. Is there some way to rephrase her expression so it’s not redundant? (I know: nitpicking is my middle name.)

    She headed down the row, moving this way and that to avoid the jostling, talkative, mirthful crowd. I think we’ve discerned the crowd is in high spirits by this point. I’m a big fan of “the power of three,” but this seemed a bit like beating us over the head. ;-)

    Another nit: Her feet kicked up clouds of dust and the scents of kettle corn and mulled mead washed over her in waves. Will middle-grade readers know what those things smell like? Kettle corn, maybe, but mulled mead? How familiar would a 12-year-old be with mead? (Cider at her age, perhaps?)

    It was like the tent wasn’t even really there. I think “really” is an unnecessary adjective, but I could be wrong. :-)

    This is my bias, but I’d watch phrases like “seemed to,” “she felt” and “she saw” or “she looked.” We’re seeing this through Sam’s eyes, so what she sees, senses, smells or feels should come to us as a first-hand impression without the intervention of an authorial voice (which is what “seemed,” “felt,” “looked,” etc. imply). Just a thought.

    There are a lot — a LOT — of exclamation points in here, but I don’t know how you could change that. I’ve been told that exclamation points are the kiss of evil, that one in an entire novel is sufficient (as long as it’s buried deep in the bowels of the manuscript so it can’t get out and readers are too enamored of the story by then to flee in terror), but I write for adults. The “rules” may be different for younger readers.

    All of my comments are minor. I really like this! I’d love to read more of it. There are so many unanswered questions in here that you’ve got to have a compelling story on your hands. (And that doll is just too creepy for words.) :-)

    Good luck with it!

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