Hi all,
Well I seem to churn out stories all the time, and theres been millions of threads, so I am gonna make this one where I post all my stories!
I shall be posting one very soon on WWII, then maybe Napleonic, so look out for posts here!
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Hi all,
Well I seem to churn out stories all the time, and theres been millions of threads, so I am gonna make this one where I post all my stories!
I shall be posting one very soon on WWII, then maybe Napleonic, so look out for posts here!
And would there be a special place for us to comment on the quality? Also, do you want CC1: basic comments, or CC5: hell for a writer?
Comment here: CC3 please.
Sounds great Warluster, we'll all wait withviciously sharpenedwell-rounded pens for comments! Looking forward to the first post.
1496, Southern France.
The earth trembled likes a giant was jumping nearby, the sun was feebly peering from behind the black some whipping the battlefield. Soldiers, men, lay screaming in pain, as one of their limbs were missing from their body.
But no one was going to help.
Potholes made walking hell around the battlefield; some potholes were more like craters though. There were no trees, only the sound of clashing metal, the twinge of bows, and guns. The newest invention around.
The three nations which had decided to start the regrettable, conflict, was England and France, and some Spanish soldiers. The leaders referred to the battle afterwards as a skirmish. Most of the commoners thought that for a while, but when some soldiers were sent home as they had gone insane, some realized.
But guns, the thing which was to change warfare, the thing which killed some 4 million in World War 1 was –
“Bloody useless!” cursed one of the gunners.
“That’s just some wood they salvaged from a barn!” spat the other gunner. There was heaving nearby, and cursing. One looked over; the other 4 gunners were lifting a 25 kg cannonball, with their hands curled underneath the ball, and sweat pouring off their heads.
“Yah bloody weaklings” remarked the Gunner not lifting it.
“Shut up and help us!” panted one, and the other Gunner kneeled down, got the cannonball in his hands and tried to lift.
“Uh well…” his sentence drifted feebly into the smoky air, and one gunner nodded in a understanding way. They then heaved and chucked the ball into the cannon.
One gunner wiped his head,
“Why’d I even join up” he wondered aloud. One gunner brought over a pole with some hard fluff on the end of it, the ram. He looked into the cannon, closed one eye then opened it.
“Hey Jack, did ya ever notice that?” asked the gunner,
“What?” said Jack.
“If you close one eye it looks different to two open!” he exclaimed, a look of wonder on his face. Jack scanned his face, then shook his head.
“Hurry up already will ya” he sighed. The gunner rammed the gunpowder into the cannon, and with one eye closed he looked back into the cannon, and then backed away quickly, away from the cannon. One brought out a lighted match, made sure the rest were out of the way, and lit the fuse, which was quite long. He ran off to where the others were cowering nearby. The fuse finished, and then stopped.
“Must’ve been a dud” observed one, and stood up confidently, sure the danger was gone.
“Get down!” yelled one, but too late. The gun exploded, shooting metal everywhere. Iron cut into the ground. One bit of iron scrapped one gunners arm, and peeled off the skin along his whole arm, the gunner fainted with pain. The cannonball flew backwards, Jack got up and tackled the gunner standing up to the ground. The gunner breathed heavily,
“Thanks Jack” he said, no reply. The gunner looked around, there was Jack lying on the ground, dead, a piece of metal pinning him to the earth, and the blood washed over the dirt. The gunner leaned back, and cried silently. Why him? Why did he join up in the cursed Gunner Battalion? Why here? Was what flashed through the gunners mind, and he fainted.
Note: don't take the criticism too harshly, I'm just trying to help here.
This is a strange sentence because:Quote:
Originally Posted by Warluster
1) It's a fantasy stroy, so why bother talking about giants
2) how big is this giant exactly, how big of a tremble could he cause ?
It's supposed to be a descriptive sentence yet it tells us nothing about the scene, except that there is some trembling, and possibly some giants later in the stroy, who'll probalby be pretty big.
Err, English is not my native language, so perhaps that's why, but i just don't understand this sentence.Quote:
the sun was feebly peering from behind the black some whipping the battlefield.
some ?Quote:
Soldiers, men, lay screaming in pain, as one of their limbs were missing from their body.
Why the though ? I see no juxtaposition or contradiction in this sentence.Quote:
Potholes made walking hell around the battlefield; some potholes were more like craters though.
Trees are a visual impression, why are you comparing it to auditary impressions ?Quote:
There were no trees, only the sound of clashing metal, the twinge of bows, and guns.
Weird place for a comma, some Spanish soldiers do not a nation make.Quote:
The three nations which had decided to start the regrettable, conflict, was England and France, and some Spanish soldiers.
Realised what ? I would also replace thought with accepted hereQuote:
The leaders referred to the battle afterwards as a skirmish. Most of the commoners thought that for a while, but when some soldiers were sent home as they had gone insane, some realized.
Guns don't kill people, peopel kill people :jester:Quote:
But guns, the thing which was to change warfare, the thing which killed some 4 million in World War 1 was –
WWI probably isn't the best example for the use of guns, since there were pretty advanced guns by then, it's like comparing an early bomb to a nuke.
Why do you give all this talk about guns and then start about cannons ? Maybe it's just me that seems that thinks 'handguns' (or rifles, or shotguns, but at least something portable) when someone mentions guns.
As a general rule, avoid writing numbers in your text, make it 'twenty five' instead of '25'.Quote:
25 kg cannonball,
Shouldn't it be 'was breathing' ? breathed sounds weird.Quote:
The gunner breathed heavily,
Your story is definatly better towards the end. Don't neglect to re-read your stories though, the first part felt very unedited.
Thanks for feedback!
With the giants thing, I was saying since giants are pretty big, then use your own mind to imagine one jumping, making the earth tremble,hard.
The some thing was meant to be smoke.
Hmm, I still would have tied it more to to story. What was making the earth tremble ? The cannons ? The thousands of men ? Make it more descriptive as to why the earth was trembling.Quote:
Originally Posted by Warluster
1492 , LondonDover, England.
In one of the smaller Mansions on the edge of London, away from the hustle of it all, lived a rather small family.
There was Cynewulf, a short 15 year old, with quite blond hair. Then there was his brother, Eadgar, who was 21. He was tall and had black hair.
The two boy’s father was Dunstan, who was a rich politician. He aspired to become the Mayor of London one day, or a personal advisor of The King. All he talked about was politics’. Especially at the dining table…
“And he then said ‘I’ve got some chaps to sort you out’” said Dunstan,
“Why Father, you could fine them for that…” said Eadgar, in a interested tone,
“Nay, those other higher up chaps would spare no time to kick me to the bottom” said Dunstan, raising his eyebrows. He then went into a 30 minute lecture, inconveniently to Eadgar, about those ‘Higher Up’ chaps.
Then there was Eadgar and Cynewulf’s mother. Her name was Emma, and she had long black hair, unlike Dunstan who had blonde.
She didn’t work as they made a lot of money from Dunstan. She liked listening to all the doings and goings at Father’s work, and she could sit, listening to Father, for hours on end, something which amazed Eadgar and Cynewulf.
But the family, Dunstan, Emma, Eadgar and Cynewulf Osbearn, were quite rich for those days. They had a small mansion, with 4 maids, 2 chef’s and a butler. And lived their life richly as they could. The mansion was three levels high.
One day, when they were sitting at the dinner table, Dunstan once again speaking about work, strangely (for him) stopped talking about work.
“Anyway, apart from that some exciting news today about those chaps fighting somewhere in Italy” said Dunstan, he was referring to the current war there between Italy and The Holy Roman Empire.
“Our chaps won a bloody good battle, and are all celebrating” (Most in fact were sitting half dead in a hospital) “and are coming back to London for a military parade!” announced Dunstan. Cynewulf looked up from his dinner, and enthusiastically smiled,
“Can we go father?” he asked, quite eager.
“Wy of course…” Dunstan voice seemed to disappear as Emma shot him a warning look, as if it would be dangerous going to a parade.
“Darling” started Emma, speaking to Father, she said it with a tone which meant they’d discussed that matter a million times “You know I detest of military parades, it isn’t good education for the children” she lectured. Dunstan stared at her with his mouth open, food halfway between his mouth and his plate, and then he ate it.
“Of course Emma darling” he said. That’s was something which made Father so easy to like, in those days most husbands treated their wives like inferiors, but not Father, he was different.
Weeks passed, and the time until the parade shortened, Cynewulf was quite excited about it, though Emma said they weren’t going.
“It will be so cool! We actually get to see the soldiers who fought!” said Cynewulf, Eadgar smiled,
“Yeah, its would be pretty fun” commented Eadgar,
“It would be such a cool adventure, trekking over mountains in Italy, dueling with other chaps” said Cynewulf, he seemed to have developed Father’s trait of saying ‘chap’.
Eventually it was the night before the parade, and the family was sitting around the dinner table silently. Absorbing in the change of noise. But Emma spoke,
‘Now Cynewulf, seeing as you want to go the parade so much, I am letting you go” she said in constricted tones, Cynewulf’s face momentarily exploded into a shining happiness, but covered it up soon.
“Thank you Mother: he said in controlled tones.
“On one condition” she added thoughtfully,
“That you go with Eadgar” she told him. He didn’t mind, either did Eadgar. And as soon as they finished dinner Eadgar and Cynewulf raced upstairs to prepare for the next day.
The night flashed past, and sooner then later they were walking into the beating heart of London, people flocked past them, discussing one thing or another. Hundreds of people lurked in the alleys of hovels, homeless and living in poverty. The sun was declaring itself brightly up in the sky.
“Why a wonderful day” observed Eadgar, and Cynewulf murmured in agreement. One thing they didn’t notice though, was how people seemed to clear out of Eadgar’s way. Eadgar wondered on this, was it what he was wearing?
It was, he realized, because he was wearing richer clothes, many took him to be an important Duke or Count. They thought if they said or did anything wrong near him, he’d punish them through law.
Eventually the reached the place where the march was to be, the street was clear of people, and many were flocking onto the bridge. Thousands of people were there. Talking loudly among themselves, Eadgar felt quite relaxed, birds chirping overhead, the babble of people around him, and the sun kindly shining around him, not too hot, not too cold.
And then drums started from afar, and trumpets played. Everyone stopped talking in honor, and slowly the great noise of cheering spread through the crowd. All cheering for the heroic soldiers who had won great victories in Italy, with few casualties it seemed.
Slowly but surely, with the sound of cheering, tumpets and drums proceeding them, the soldiers of the British Army came marching through the streets, all beaming. Cynewulf was watching them intently, observing their armor and weapons. He was still watching the soldiers when he spoke to Eadgar.
“Wow, I always imagined them as Knights in shining armor” said Cynewulf, Eadgar laughed.
“Crossbows finished that up” laughed Eadgar. Cynewulf looked up at him in a searching look,
“NO brother, not crossbows, those things” he said, pointing to one of the strange devices some soldiers walking by were carrying. Eadgar had never seen them,
“And they are…?” he asked Cynewulf.
“Father told me of them, guns they’re called” said Cynewulf, he continued “They’re supposed to fire round metal balls, which can pierce any armor” he said knowledgeably. Eadgar laughed, but not as confident this time, and rubbed Cynewulf’s head,
“jeez you know a lot about war!” he commented, and Cynewulf looked up and smiled warmly.
“Why don’t we meet the soldiers?” asked Eadgar, and Cynewulf hesitated.
“We should really get back before Mother Thinks we signed up or something” said Cynewulf,
“Nay, C’mon, this sort of thing doesn’t happen every day!” said Eadgar Truthfully, and Cynewulf nodded, and followed Eadgar, who was heading for the Church where the soldiers would stop. When they got there, the march was nearly over, and many people were heading back to their filthy, dirty hovels.
But the soldiers were still there, waiting to see if anyone was going to come over. Eadgar made his way through the crowd, leaving Cynewulf to talk with one of the Swordsmen, and found one of the men with the strange devices.
The man wielding the device, looked around, and Eadgar saw he had a handlebar moustache, with grey hair. Eadgar wondered if the war had turned his hair grey. Eadgar nodded respectfully towards him, and shook his hand. The man observed him, scanned him then spoke.
“Harold Hunlaf” the man said.
“Eadgar Osbearn” said Eadgar, Eadgar pointed to the device.
“May I ask what that is?” asked Eadgar, Harold shouldered the weapon a it more, then nodded.
“You may, that is the newest device in the army” Harold said, “It’s a gun, though its really called a Aqrebusier or something” said Harold, his face scrunched into thinking mode.
“Looks pretty useless” commented Eadgar, looking at it from different angles. Harold let out a raspy laugh,
“It sometimes is bloody useless” chuckled Harold,
“It fires round metal balls, which can obliterate any armor, easily” said Harold, pulling from his pocket a little metal ball, “Put this in” he threw it up and caught it “put in gunpowder” he showed him a pouch of powder “and click and the enemies dead, if it fires” said Harold, Eadgar was mightily impressed. Harold though nodded to someone behind Eadgar,
“Good day Officer” said Harold, Eadgar looked around to see a man holding another gun, but smaller.
“Good day young chaps” said the officer, he looked Eadgar up and down.
“Are you, m, joining the gun corps boy?” he asked roughly.
“In fact I am” said Eadgar, but his brain said ‘WHAT!’ he realized what he said, but it was too late.
“Excellent, give me your address and I shall come around some time” said the Officer, who smartly walked away.
“You’ll get used to hating him, anyway, hope to see you at the camp soon!” said Harold, smiling, and he walked away. Eadgar was stunned, he was now part of the army! Cynewulf was tugging at his shirt,
“Let us go home, Mother is probably worried sick that we’ve joined the army” muttered Cynewulf, Edgar said nothing, but obeyed, and they steered their feet towards home. It was a stunned silence, Eadgar nor Cynewulf said nothing the whole way back.
Interesting work Warluster. I very much like the little social details like "said Cynewulf, he seemed to have developed Father’s trait of saying ‘chap’" and "Dunstan voice seemed to disappear as Emma shot him a warning look". You do a great job of bringing in telling details on character and atmosphere, and that adds a lot to the story.
There are two main areas it could be improved.
The first is fairly simple, just corrections to spelling and phrasing -- for example, "the family was sitting around the dinner table silently. Absorbing in the change of noise." The "Absorbing in the change of noise" doesn't work as a separate sentence here, but it works fine as "...around the dinner table silently, absorbing the change of noise."
The second is more difficult to explain. To put it quickly, there's a problem with narrative voice changing abruptly at times. i.e.:
andQuote:
“Our chaps won a bloody good battle, and are all celebrating” (Most in fact were sitting half dead in a hospital) “and are coming back to London for a military parade!”
Although these two would be just fine in some contexts, it's a bit jarring. Much of the story is written in a very nice descriptive style, showing nothing to the reader except what a narrator watching the two boys could see. Breaking into that flow with 1) what soldiers were doing many miles away, or 2) what Eadgar is thinking, makes me wonder exactly who is telling the story and how they are able to jump around so quickly.Quote:
“In fact I am” said Eadgar, but his brain said ‘WHAT!’
A way to solve that is to clearly answer, before you start writing, the question "Who is telling this story, and what can they see?" You can make this storyteller someone who sees and knows everything, but it's almost always a good idea to picture the narrator physically existing somewhere in the scene you're describing, and then write only from that perspective (i.e. if you want to write the parade scene and include Eadgar's thoughts, the narrator needs to move into Eadgar's mind before the parade scene itself).
This is tough work, but it makes stories hold together much better. It's a good sign that I had to take this much space to critique, you're doing great! ~:)
Thanks for the feedback!
Definetly helped, I am going to scrap the last six pages I've done, because it was moire like Eadgar's viewpoint.
I second Tamur's comments. The descriptions and details make this story stand out, but the writing itself could use some polishing. Also, why do all characters bear Saxon names?
Thats what I found when looking for a good name. There are refined versions, Eadgar is supposed to be Edgar. etc.