To skip directly to the material and critique, scroll down to the star divider line. If you'd like to know how I break down a critique, and what I'm looking for, keep reading:
To help the authors as much as possible, I've critiqued their full first chapter, however I'm only sharing the first 500 words as these can get quite long.
When critiquing a first chapter, (especially the first 500 words), I'm always searching for these pieces of information. A great book can include all of them right up front. Sometimes one or two need to take longer. But in the first page, or two at most, I should see at least three of these:
- Who is the focus of the story?
- Where are they?
- When is it (i.e. what era--is it today? two hundred years ago? not sure?)
- What are they doing?
- Why are they doing it
And in the first chapter, if not the first 500 words, I want to know what the character's initial goal is. That goal will likely change as they learn more about the situation they're falling into. However, right up front, the character always needs to want something--desperately. And the author needs to communicate to me what that is, and why they might not get it, as quickly as possible. Because that's what tells me why I should care about this story.
I'm looking for technical expertise--does the author know how to set up a scene? Do they understand backstory and when to include it (and perhaps more importantly, when not to). Is their writing tight and polished, or are there a lot of unnecessary words? Is the author falling into purple prose (over-writing in an attempt to sound good, but actually creating a sense of melodrama which will turn many readers off).
Beyond that, I'm looking at how I respond as a reader. Am I intrigued? Do I care? Do I want to keep reading?
So, with all those elements in mind, here we go...
********************
ORIGINAL MATERIAL
Patience has never been been my virtue.
Somehow, I manage to resign myself to boredom and listen to voices
in passing, flies hovering over
fish rotting in crates of crushed ice, screaming hawkers desperate to make a few copper
coins.
It isn’t like I have much to do besides wait. Might as well pass
time. I turn my head and concentrate.
Patterns in footsteps, the direction of a scurrying mouse, the friction
of clothing rubbing against skin, the sound of sweat as it beads along
hairlines.
The hours drag by at snail speed, or at least it feels that way,
until I hear the clip-clop of iron
hitting the ground.
Soldiers on horseback are galloping beneath the market gate. Finally. They look at the stalls, ready to stop the sale of contraband goods.
Their bays are small, but swift; they handle long marches and are quicker in
battle than larger horses. So perfectly under command, their riders have little
use for reins.
Only the best for Zhu military.
I hone in on the conversation between the two men in the lead. I can’t look at
their faces as they speak, because they’re riding down the street ahead of me,
but I can block out ambient noises
and single out their voices, even with the din of the market.
“They are saying in town that Silent Raven is causing trouble
again,” the lieutenant says.
“Put your mind at ease,” General Sheng says. “We’ve disbanded the
Yellow Turbans. Repelled the Boxers. Tamed the White Lotus Bandits. It’s only one
girl in a mask who flashes an indestructible blade, as they say. I can’t swear
as to the sword—I’ve never seen it. But Silent Raven bleeds like every other
criminal we’ve eliminated.”
“General, she terrorized our outpost in Tai’an City. Raided the
camps, robbed the payroll, and freed the prisoners. A soldier who escaped
claims she immobilized the men with a single syllable and a point of her
finger. Somehow, the raven has learned Taoist spells. She knows the magical
arts.”
“Are you an owl, lieutenant?” General Sheng says. “Unable to see
beyond the end of your own crooked nose? The girl must have a place where she
eats and sleeps. When she’s not attacking or spying. We’ll trail the raven back
to her nest, burst in on her while she’s resting, and catch her.”
If you can. I smile beneath my mask. It’s cute when
people try to sound dangerous.
Standing on the edge of a tavern, a mane of black flies out
behind me. It matches the color of my robe, which flaps in the breeze like a flag of victory. The Sword of Integrity is strapped to my
back, a heavy but comforting weight.
I take a flying leap from one pagoda-style roof to the next, my feet
moving soundlessly on the brown-tiled eaves. No one sees me. No one thinks to
look up. Not a soul in this heat. At high noon, the air is hot enough to ignite
dust. The oppressive sun pours out its brilliant oranges and reds over my inky
hair, which enshrouds my face and most of my body. It lies poker straight, yet
it moves like tall reeds of grass with the wind blowing gently.
CRITIQUE (My words in
red font):
Patience has never been been my virtue.
Somehow, I manage to resign myself to boredom and listen to voices
in passing, flies hovering over
fish rotting in crates of crushed ice, screaming hawkers desperate to make a few copper
coins.
Your descriptiveness here is great. But we’re missing the framework
to place these evocative images, so they happen in a vacuum. Start wide and
then bring these into focus. It could be as easy as “wandering down the dirt
street”, or “slipping between people in the marketplace”—just something to
gives us the wider setting.
It isn’t like I have much to do besides wait. Might as well pass
time. I turn my head and concentrate.
Patterns in footsteps, the direction of a scurrying mouse, the friction
of clothing rubbing against skin, the sound of sweat as it beads along
hairlines.
I gather you’re trying to create the impression of the narrative
character logging extraordinary sensory details (i.e. greater hearing than we
have). Which is great character and world-building. However, the transition
between internal narration and listing the stimulus is jarring. You need to
indicate to the reader, in a way that suits your voice, that you’re switching
from thought to sensation.
The hours drag by at snail speed, or at least it feels that way,
until I hear the clip-clop of iron
hitting the ground.
Soldiers on horseback are galloping beneath the market gate.
Very nit-picky line-editing
note, because your writing is strong enough that it’s worth going to this
level: The was/are *ing construction is passive. Instead of “are galloping”,
just use “gallop”. If you do this everywhere in your manuscript you not only
lower your wordcount, but make your prose more active, and thus more
compelling.
Finally. They look at the stalls, ready to stop the sale of contraband goods.
Their bays are small, but swift; they handle long marches and are quicker in
battle than larger horses. So perfectly under command, their riders have little
use for reins.
Only the best for Zhu military.
Great world-building.
I hone in on the conversation between the two men in the lead. I can’t look at
their faces as they speak, because they’re riding down the street ahead of me,
but I can block out ambient noises
and single out their voices, even with the din of the market.
Great character-building!
“They are saying in town that Silent Raven is causing trouble
again,” the lieutenant says.
“Put your mind at ease,” General Sheng says. “We’ve disbanded the
Yellow Turbans. Repelled the Boxers. Tamed the White Lotus Bandits. It’s only one
girl in a mask who flashes an indestructible blade, as they say.
This is the first sentence that doesn’t ring authentic to me “just
one girl with an indestructible blade”, then ending with “as they say”, when
clearly both have heard these stories.
First, true soldiers don’t laugh off that kind of weapon if it’s
real. He can demonstrate bravado, even stupidity. But the phrasing feels off.
Seems more realistic that he would poo-poo the rumors as superstition or
wishful thinking—mock the people for being scared of a little girl.
Secondly, “as they say” means “we both know this, but the author
wants to tell it to the reader, so I’m going to tell it to you.” Strike it.
When people talk about things they both know, they don’t say things like this.
They just talk about it. Use internal narration to fill in any blanks the
soldiers imply because they are both clued in.
I can’t swear as to the sword—I’ve
never seen it. But Silent Raven bleeds like every other criminal we’ve
eliminated.”
“General, she terrorized our outpost in Tai’an City. Raided the
camps, robbed the payroll, and freed the prisoners. A soldier who escaped
claims she immobilized the men with a single syllable and a point of her
finger. Somehow, the raven has learned Taoist spells. She knows the magical
arts.”
This is great world-building and I’m definitely intrigued. But
there’s a clunkiness to this because you’re using two people who know the
information to tell each other the information.
Find a way to make it more organic. “Such and such claimed she did
X.” “Oh? Well, I heard this-and-that say she did Y, so which is true?”
“Probably neither.” “Maybe both?” “Doesn’t matter—if I find her, she bleeds
just like the rest of them.”
Trust your reader to read between the lines (no pun intended)
“Are you an owl, lieutenant?” General Sheng says. “Unable to see
beyond the end of your own crooked nose? The girl must have a place where she
eats and sleeps. When she’s not attacking or spying. We’ll trail the raven back
to her nest, burst in on her while she’s resting, and catch her.”
Must say, it’s very convenient that she happens to be here to hear
this conversation. Maybe set it up in such a way that she has learned a
specific general or someone of importance has a messenger waiting here for the
soldiers, to fill them in, and that’s why she’s waiting—to hear what the
message is. It shows her strategic thoughtfulness—and gives them an organic
reason to discuss this. Otherwise, why didn’t they have this conversation
before they reached the place they know she is? Strategically, they’re a bit
dim—which makes them weak adversaries, which minimizes the power implied to
her.
If you can. I smile beneath my mask. It’s cute when
people try to sound dangerous.
The irony is, she’s mocking them for doing exactly what she’s just
done.
Standing on the edge of a tavern, a mane of black flies out
behind me.
This doesn’t make sense. I had to re-read it three times. I’m still
not sure if it’s real or metaphor.
It matches the color of my robe, which flaps in the breeze like a flag of victory. The Sword of Integrity is strapped to my
back, a heavy but comforting weight.
I take a flying leap from one pagoda-style roof to the next, my feet
moving soundlessly on the brown-tiled eaves.
No one sees me. No one thinks to look up. Not a soul in this heat.
At high noon, the air is hot enough to ignite dust. The oppressive sun pours
out its brilliant oranges and reds over my inky hair, which enshrouds my face
and most of my body. It lies poker straight, yet it moves like tall reeds of
grass with the wind blowing gently.
Excellent setting details. Watch out for getting too purple in your
prose. The last two sentences (especially the “enshrouds” sentence) read a
little melodramatic, rather than dramatic. Go stark over excessively
descriptive. It’ll work better for the type of character you’ve built.
SUMMARY:
You’re a good writer. You understand pacing, setting, and building
anticipation to a coming event. I foresee her ambushing the soldiers in some
way, to gather information or resources for whatever goal she’s given herself.
My only real quibble here is that it feels like you’re trying too
hard to make the voice unique. In actuality, you’ve got what sounds to me like
a unique setting, and definitely a unique main character. You don’t need to
give her such a staccato (yet also flowery?) way of expressing herself. In
fact, I’d go so far as to say the technique you’re using is getting in the way
of the reader falling into the story—and a very good story it’s already shaping
up to be.
Pull back on the purple prose. Let her use full sentences when
she’s describing the sensory details. Don’t put in any barriers in the way of
the reader, and then we’ll get the full promise that’s here: A very intriguing
protagonist in a new and different world from standard fare.
Well done. Good luck!