My Prose

[Chris]

Well, here's mine. I'll probably post something else on my scheduled prose date. I went for a fantasy-like story set in a rapidly changing forest, I guess the mood I'm trying to create is that of beauty and mystery. If this were to become a book, I guess this would be the prolouge. I'm not too good with naming characters, I tried to make it sound ancient or mystical-ish.

I'm trying to improve everything, so any type of critism is appreciated. Please let me know if i'm being overly-desciptive, just right, or not enough too. Enjoy!

EDIT - edited version -

----------------------------

A barrage of crackles sent shivers through the forest. An ancient forest with a lost, mistaken history far beyond what is known. From nourishing trees, as large as the mountains of today, and earth, richer than dreams, and skies, of brilliant chrome, to a hazy labyrinth of broken spirits. Day and night, from the canopies to the sky, a dense miasmic fog plagued the forest. The poison descended upon the plants, which were forced to adapt. Most animals had left the area or died off, as trees and plants alike gradually withered and suffered. Yet life lived still with a rare rain and simple sunshine. With these thunderous eruptions of cacophony, the abandoned plant life felt a pulse of forgotten fright. It swelled through the veins of the forest as the unbearable seemingly endless sounds continued, originating from below and echoing through the air. There was not an earthquake or an abused apparition looking to cause harm. Even plants, as primitive as they are thought to be, felt the atmosphere change and emotions, though fear at first, began to return. The ground did not shift, the wind did not howl. The plants shrieked at such a volume, so haunting, that a chill would creep up the spine of the sternest fellow. It continued from the morning hours through dusk.

Nightfall. The sky became silent and the haze began to clear; a very seldom change. An uncommon breath of purity fell upon the infected forest. The fog had removed itself as if on command, or even planned, to reveal a dome of stars. A piece of silent music. A sparkling sonata of the darkest universal black and against it, a radiant moon. A mood so depressing yet beautiful, melodic. It spoke to the forest in silent rhyme, and fashioned feelings of love. Memories of lost times rushed into the roots and leaves of the eldest trees. Suppressed emotions began to return. This day was different than all other days preceding it. A transition was taking effect.

A sudden burst of tumultuous anticipation exploded into the hearts of the old trees. Shockwaves emitted from the ground once more, no longer cacophonic, but bearable. Underground, worms felt the change as they were tossed from their tunnels and mixed up in the shifting dirt. Rumbles came from below, but it was not an earthquake. Nature did not create the noise. Anticipation continued, and the wind began to howl in an uncomfortable excitement. A sudden jolt ripped the surface, and emerged a pale white hand. The figure continued to emerge; first by an arm covered up by a dirt-ridden thin brown sleeve. The rest of the body followed, its initial movements more resembling a corpse. The figure had black boots, and a long slightly decayed robe. It balanced itself and wiped off the clumps of dirt and soot off in swift movements. A faded heptagonal emblem on the robe’s back started to brighten in silvery crimson. Magical blazes emanated until quickly darkening the robe to its faded state and burning an indentation into a neighboring tree.

The figure removed his hood and blinked, perplexed at his surroundings. His wrinkled face scrunched up as his mystical purple eyes glared at the surrounding nature and down at the hole he came from. His appearance greatly differed from that of a common man, specifically his face. Although wrinkled, the features were sharp without scars or marks. He was in a state of shock, even more than the nature around him. The world he had left was so altered; it no longer felt like home. He grasped a nearby vine, and let a small strange-looking insect drop into his palm. The insect seemed as perplexed as he did. Wondering where he was, what was happening to him, and why things around him had suddenly changed. It stared down at the veins of the man’s palm attempting to analyze where it may be. He watched it intriguingly, as he had not seen another living creature for so long. The insect buzzed and took to the air leaving the man alone again. Although alone, he was not despairing.

Suddenly, the ground below him collapsed. He fell with it, but grasped a hanging root only a meter or so from the edge of the newly formed chasm. A forgotten feeling of nervousness and shock came over him, much like the jolt of fear the plants received. He was momentarily stunned, but kept a firm hold on the solitary root. His long white hair blew around him as he looked below at the abyss he was responsible for creating. Blackness was the only image; the bottom was not visible. He looked up at the sky and saw rain clouds gathering and fog returning. The man pulled himself onto the edge of the chasm and out of it, looking back down as he rose. As he did, it began to drizzle, and that quickly turned to pouring rain.

He began to sprint through the forest, searching for shelter or another person, or perhaps another survivor like himself. His muddy footprints gleamed in the specks of moonlight. Water swept into them, drowning the nothingness while constructing tiny pools for the worms to crawl. The forest was rapidly becoming a swamp; a rain of this multitude had not fallen in centuries. The heavy rain crowded his vision. He put his arms over his face to try and cover his face; it helped him, even if his thin sleeves had already become soaked. He was not emotionless, far from, but trapped in a state of confusion and disappointment. It felt like a prison; a cage he was condemned to dwell in until a sign of the past presented itself. The prison was reality. When he snapped from his intense meditative state underground, he was overwhelmed by personal peace, and the enjoyment and wanting to emerge from his living tomb to see his family, friends, and the beauty of nature once more. Reality injured his joyous soul. His family and friends had probably died off, and the nature he vied to see again was now a poisoned puddle of what he used to love. The sadness took him to that prison and he could not sense with true emotions the nature that was transforming once again around him.

The leaves caressed his damp robe in his run, which demoted itself to more of a fast-paced walk. He stopped under a large tree, and sat at the trunk. He removed his hood and lightly tossed his head back against the tree. Shaking his head, questions about this existence and of time itself burned his mind. His memory was only that of information, not of images. He began to realize that he had to come to his senses. Senses that he nearly lost in the moments succeeding his awakening. Swells of information intuitively came to him in his comatose, histories of past cultures that had passed over him. He had yet to put it all together. Was it history I felt? The moments walk by me... as time stood there? He agreed with his thoughts, as they gradually began to challenge his usual peaceful nature. Time is snickering at me... my life, my emotions, perceptions, understandings, this universe itself. He thought, thinking of the type of enlightenment he achieved in his meditative state. Control was edging away.

Then the man snapped. His hand quickly brushed the hair from his face. What are these thoughts? Everything I've learned, known! Nothing similar taught! He paused. "AT ALL!" he exclaimed out loud nearly leaping to his feet. His voice, deep in sound and in meaning, echoed and broke the silence of the forest. He realized then that he had woken from a very long sleep. A sleep longer any modern-day man or woman could comprehend. The information that flushed into his mind was history occurring around him, above him, below him, and inside him. Memories came to flesh. This intense meditation had lasted over seventeen millennia. Perhaps the sole survivor of his culture, the first culture, and he realized it. The man was the oldest man on Earth, and in the teachings of his people, he would and should be the leader, but knew he shouldn't impose himself on civilizations of the now. The world passed by and the world arrived again. And as the rain came to its end, he came to a quick understanding that his enlightenment may be complete. The man called Callos (KAY-lose) walked away from the old tree and into the labyrinth of the forest and of the mind...

[Satan]

judging by the ellipsis I'm assuming you are at least thinking of continuing it?

As I said in a similar thread, I'm not great critic. I do enjoy reading these though.

Here's what i saw.

The only problems I saw in it:

I was confused a bit when he first emerged because you used both he and it which I think both refer to the emerging figure.

I actually liked the descriptions. It takes me minute to adjust to that type of thing, but once I did I had no problems, and actually started to like it.

[Chris]

judging by the ellipsis I'm assuming you are at least thinking of continuing it

Yea, I have a bunch of ideas and I want to continue it, but I wanted to post it first to see if it got any interest too.

The only problems I saw in it:

I was confused a bit when he first emerged because you used both he and it which I think both refer to the emerging figure.

Yeah, both he and it meant the same figure. I used them both only cause I thought it would be a little redundant to use He so much, but I suppose it doesn't matter, I'll change that with further editing soon. Thanks for reading!

[Ceraziefish]

Oh man do I dig this. AE has some talented writers!

I really like the last paragraph especially. And I definitely want to read more!

As a stylistic thing, though, I'd say you use a lot of adjectives, sometimes too many in a few places.

I'll have more editing remarks once I read it again in a few hours, but I definitely like this.

[Chris]

Glad to hear you enjoyed it! I'm still deciding on what direction I want to take it in though, there's many many ways this could go.

Hmm, on the adjectives, I somewhat agree, but which parts do you think are overused, the robe maybe? Yes, and any more editing remarks would be great!

[Ceraziefish]

Awright, I'm doin' a super edit on this one. Match the number to the comment below! I put a number after the thing I'm commenting on.

A barrage of crackles sent shivers through the forest. An ancient forest with a lost, mistaken history far beyond what is known. From nourishing trees, as large as the mountains of today, and earth, richer than dreams, and skies, of brilliant chrome, to a hazy labyrinth of broken spirits. Day and night, from the canopies to the sky, a dense fog, with an odor that could be considered miasmic (1), plagued the forest. The poison descended upon the plants, which were forced to adapt. Most animals had left the area or died off, as trees and plants alike gradually withered and suffered. Yet life lived still with a rare rain and simple sunshine. With these thunderous eruptions of cacophony, the abandoned plant life felt a pulse of forgotten fright.(2) It swelled through the veins of the forest as the unbearable sounds continued, originating from below and echoing through the air. Seemingly endless waves of sound shot fright into the scenery.(3) There was not an earthquake or an abused apparition looking to cause harm. Even plants, as primitive as they are thought to be, felt the atmosphere change and emotions, though fear at first, began to return. The ground did not shift, the wind did not howl. The plants shrieked at such a volume, so haunting, that a chill would creep up the spine of the sternest fellow. It continued from the morning hours through dusk.

Nightfall. The sky became silent and the haze began to clear; a very seldom change. An uncommon breath of purity fell upon the infected forest. The fog had removed itself as if on command, or even planned, to reveal a dome of stars. A piece of silent music. A sparkling sonata of the darkest universal black and against it, a radiant moon.(4) A mood so depressing yet beautiful, melodic. It spoke to the forest in silent rhyme, and fashioned feelings of love. Memories of lost times rushed into the roots and leaves of the eldest trees. Suppressed emotions began to return. This day was different than all other days preceding it. A transition was taking effect.

A sudden burst of tumultuous anticipation exploded into the hearts of the old trees. Shockwaves emitted from the ground once more, no longer cacophonic, but bearable. Underground, worms felt the change as they were tossed from their tunnels and mixed up in the shifting dirt. Rumbles came from below, but it was not an earthquake, nature did not create the noise.(5) Anticipation continued, and the wind began to howl in an uncomfortable excitement. A sudden jolt ripped the surface, and emerged a pale white hand. The figure continued to emerge; first by an arm covered up by a dirt-ridden thin brown sleeve.(6) The rest of the body followed, it’s(7) initial movements more resembling a corpse. The figure had black boots, and a long hooded, slightly decayed, faded robe.(8) Strands of his long white hair lie outside of it.(9) It maintained composure and brushed the clumps of dirt and soot off without difficulty. Anyone to witness this would be awed at seeing a figure buried underground emerge and move so swiftly.(10) A faded heptagonal emblem on the robe’s back started to brighten in a silvery crimson color, until quickly darkening to it’s faded state and burned an indentation into a neighboring tree. (11)

The figure removed his hood and blinked, perplexed of(12) his surroundings. His dirty wrinkled face scrunched up as his mystical purple eyes glared at the surrounding nature and down at the ground he emerged from.(13) His appearance greatly differed from that of a common man, more specifically, the look of his face and body.(14) He was in a state of shock, even more than the nature around him. The world he had left was so altered; it no longer felt like home. Looking around, he grasped a nearby vine, and let a small strange-looking insect drop into his palm. The insect seemed as perplexed as he did. Wondering where he was, what was happening to him, and why things around him had suddenly changed, and even what he was doing.(15) It stared down at the veins of the man’s palm attempting to analyze where it may be. He watched it intriguingly, as he had not seen another living creature for so long. The insect buzzed and took to the air leaving the man alone again. Although alone, he was not despairing. (16)

Suddenly, the ground below him collapsed.(17) He fell with it, but grasped a hanging root only a meter or so from the edge of the newly formed chasm. A forgotten feeling of nervousness and shock came over him, much like the jolt of fear the plants received. He was momentarily stunned, but kept a firm hold on the solitary root. His long white hair blew around him as he looked below at the abyss he was responsible for creating. Blackness was the only image; the bottom was not visible. He looked up at the sky and saw rain clouds gathering and fog returning. The man pulled himself onto the edge of the chasm and out of it, looking back down as he rose. As he did, it began to drizzle, and that quickly turned to pouring rain.

He began to sprint through the forest, searching for shelter or another person, or perhaps another survivor like himself. His muddy footprints gleamed in the specs(18) of moonlight. Water swept into them, drowning the nothingness while constructing tiny pools for the worms to crawl. The forest was rapidly becoming a swamp; a rain of this multitude had not fallen in centuries. The heavy rain crowded his vision.(19) He put his arms over his face to try and cover his face; it helped him, even if his thin sleeves had already become soaked. He was not emotionless, far from, but trapped in a state of confusion and disappointment. It felt like a prison; a cage he was condemned to dwell in until a sign of the past presented itself. The prison was reality. When he snapped from his intense meditative state underground, he was overwhelmed by personal peace, and the enjoyment and wanting to emerge from his living tomb to see his family, friends, and the beauty of nature once more. Reality injured his joyous soul. His family and friends had probably died off, and the nature he vied to see again was now a poisoned puddle of what he used to love. The sadness took him to that prison and he could not sense with true emotions the nature that was transforming once again around him.(20)

The leaves caressed his damp robe in his run, which demoted itself to more of a fast-paced walk. He stopped under a large tree, and sat at the trunk. He removed his hood and lightly tossed his head back against the tree. Shaking his head he thought.(21) Questions about this existence and of time itself burned his mind. His memory was only that of information, not of images. He began to realize that he had to come to his senses. Senses that he nearly lost in the moments succeeding his awakening. Swells of information intuitively came to him in his comatose, histories of past cultures that had passed over him. He had yet to put it all together. Was it history I felt? The moments walk by me… as time stood there…? He agreed with his thoughts, as they gradually began to challenge his usual peaceful nature. Time is snickering at me… my life, my emotions, perceptions, understanding, this universe itself. He thought, thinking of the type of enlightenment he achieved in his meditative state. Control was edging away.

Then the man snapped. His hand quickly brushed the hair from his face. What are these thoughts? Everything I've learned, known! Nothing similar taught! He paused. "AT ALL!" he exclaimed out loud nearly leaping to his feet. His voice, deep in voice and in meaning, echoed and broke the silence of the forest. He realized then, that he had woken from a very long sleep.(22) A sleep longer than any other sleep a modern-day man or woman could comprehend.(23) The information that flushed into his mind was history occurring around him, above him, below him, and inside him. Memories came to flesh. This intense meditation had lasted over seventeen millennia. Perhaps the sole survivor of his culture, the first culture, and he realized it. The man was the oldest man on Earth, and in the teachings of his people, he would and should be the leader, but knew he shouldn't impose himself on civilizations of the now. The world passed by and the world arrived again. And as the rain came to it's(24) end, he came to his realization that his enlightenment was complete. The man called Callos (KAY-lose) walked away from the old tree and into the labyrinth of the forest and of the mind...

1. "With an odor that could be considered miasmic," too many words for the middle of a sentence. Makes it awkward. I'd say, "a dense, miasmic fog" or something like that. There's already a lot of commas in that sentence, though, if you can cut down on 'em I think that'd rawk.

2. I really like this sentence.

3. One adjective too many. I'd just say "Endless waves of sound..."

4. This sentence is

5. Consider making this two sentences. Ex: "...but it was not an earthquake. Nature did not create the noise." This just makes it flow better, I think. I don't know exactly what mood you're going for here, but longer sentences with multiple clauses make everything slow down (to the reader), while short sentences with one clause make everything speed up.

6. Too many adjectives. Consider taking one, or two out. It doesn't really matter, at this point, what condition his shirt is in, beyond that it's covered in dirt. You can elaborate on his shirt later if it's important.

7. Should be "its." Its is possessive, It's is a contraction of It is. I know this goes against standard possessive rules, deal with it.

8. Here's another place where there's too many adjectives. I'm not exactly sure what you should do, since they're all important. Perhaps devote a whole sentence to the robe?

9. You just switched to present tense here, and you immediately switch back to past tense.

10. These two sentences are kinda awkward. "It maintained composure and brushed the clumps of dirt and soot off without difficulty. Anyone to witness this would be awed at seeing a figure buried underground emerge and move so swiftly." You've already referred to this dude as "he," (his hair) so why are you referring to him as it now? Also, it's sorta lame to have two ands in that sentence. Perhaps you should say "He maintained composure, brushing the clumps of dirt and soot off without difficulty." Again, just a suggestion. As for the second sentence... The reader is witnessing this, and you shouldn't tell the reader how to feel (not when I'm reading, anyway!). Perhaps go into how strange it is that he's moving so quickly after being underground? I'm not sure here.

11. I love heptagons But how does a symbol on a cloak burn into a tree? Was he leaning on the tree?

12. Usually you're perplexed by or at something, not of it. If that makes any sense.

13. There's a ton of adjectives in here, too. You should at least break it up with a few commas.

14. I'd simplify this sentence a bit. Maybe "The appearance of his face and body greatly differed from that of a common man."

15. "Wondering where he was, what was happening to him, and why things around him had suddenly changed, and even what he was doing." This sentence implies an action (ex: Wondering where he was, he crushed a bug. OR While wondering where he was, Nick jizzed on my sheets) but never completes it (What you have is basically "Wondering where he was and what he was doing," there's no completed action). Does that make sense? You could either add in an action, or just change it to "He wondered where he was, what was happening to him, why things around him had suddenly changed, and even what he was doing." Also there's two ands in this sentence.

16. I'm pretty sure you changed tenses here again, but that's kind of a weird one.

17. Did he move from the first hole? I'm not clear on that.

18. It's spelled "specks," and I'm sure that makes a huge difference to you.

19. Do you mean clouded his vision? Ignore this comment if you didn't.

20. This paragraph is BITCHIN'.

21. You should put in a comma here. "Shaking his head, he thought." Although I think the sentence could be improved even more. It's kind of awkward right now, it makes it seem like you're going to say what he's thinking about in this sentence but then the sentence ends.

22. I know I'm always saying "add commas!" So here's a place where you should remove one.

23. You can assume the reader knows what you're talking about (which is sleep) and just say " A sleep longer than any a modern-day man or woman could comprehend."

24. See #7

So yeah, there you go. It's an awesome story, I'd love to read more. Hopefully this helps.

[Chris]

Hopefully this helps?! Of course it does! I'm extremely appreciative.

11. I love heptagons But how does a symbol on a cloak burn into a tree? Was he leaning on the tree?

16. I'm pretty sure you changed tenses here again, but that's kind of a weird one.

17. Did he move from the first hole? I'm not clear on that.

18. It's spelled "specks," and I'm sure that makes a huge difference to you.

All the corrections of the adjectives and verb tenses are fixed.

11. although it is funny at first, it has HUGE, and I mean HUGE significance later on in the story, but yea, I now call that sentance the "power metal sentance" I changed that whole part to - "Magical blazes emanated until quickly darkening the robe to its faded state and burning an indentation into a neighboring tree."

16. I think that one might be OK, but I'm not totally sure either. Because to me it's like, He was not doing this. (this being - despairing)

17. No he's very close to the first and only hole (so far ), like cause when it collapses, he's on the edge of the chasm (catching the root).

18. it's funny reading it like "specs" though, cause, the moon with sunglasses reminds me of like the moon covering it's eyes from the sun's light :laugh:

[Ceraziefish]

16. I think that one might be OK, but I'm not totally sure either. Because to me it's like, He was not doing this. (this being - despairing)

I think "he did not despair" might work better? I'm not sure.

[Cip]

I enjoyed it, I'm not good with constructive criticism for literary works, more so for music so I'll do my best with this.

Usually I cannot read these type of stories written by people I know because it just is too hard for some reason. Though I think your opening paragraph would draw the reader in a little more, less complicating continuous words and a little more simplicity so that it pulls the reader in gradually.

What you did was still great though because about 3 paragraphs in I had really been drawn into the detail of the story, and my favorite part about it was that I never expected it to end with this man being the oldest man alive, that concept snuck up on me and wasnt predictable, so I liked it.

Overall it was very creative, and pretty trippy

[Bundydoc]

This is a really interesting story line. I really like the idea. Though I don't think that I can give as good advice as CF, I'll give you a few of my thoughts.

A barrage of crackles sent shivers through the forest. An ancient forest with a lost, mistaken history far beyond what is known. From nourishing trees, as large as the mountains of today, and earth, richer than dreams, and skies, of brilliant chrome, to a hazy labyrinth of broken spirits. Day and night, from the canopies to the sky, a dense miasmic fog plagued the forest. The poison descended upon the plants, which were forced to adapt. Most animals had left the area or died off, as trees and plants alike gradually withered and suffered. Yet life lived still with a rare rain and simple sunshine. With these thunderous eruptions of cacophony, the abandoned plant life felt a pulse of forgotten fright. It swelled through the veins of the forest as the unbearable seemingly endless sounds continued, originating from below and echoing through the air. There was not an earthquake or an abused apparition looking to cause harm. Even plants, as primitive as they are thought to be, felt the atmosphere change and emotions, though fear at first, began to return. The ground did not shift, the wind did not howl. The plants shrieked at such a volume, so haunting, that a chill would creep up the spine of the sternest fellow. It continued from the morning hours through dusk.

This paragraph was hard for me to finish. I read it three times before I finally was able to get through it. Once I did, I was captured by the rest of the piece. I think what I had a hard time with is some of the descriptions created confusing sentences.

From nourishing trees, as large as the mountains of today, and earth, richer than dreams, and skies, of brilliant chrome, to a hazy labyrinth of broken spirits.

This needs to either be a description of the forrest or a lead into the fog:

From the nourishing tees, as large as the mountains of today, and earth richer than dreams, to the skies of brilliant chrome and it's labyrinth of broken spirits, the mighty forrest was plagued day and night by a dense miasmic fog.

This is just opinion on flow however. There were a few sentences that needed an extra comma or to be split into two. I loved the idea of this character being from a civilization so long ago. Where do they come from, why are they now awake. I really makes me want to read more.

[Chris]

Hey thanks for the feedback and for reading. I see where you're coming from in that sentance too. Basically what I tried to say was from an amazing forest to a shitty forest.

Like..

From tress like this and earth like this and skies like this to...

I had to split the descriptions or it would be too much of a run on sentance and many many adjectives.

[PMA]

Ok, so finally got around to reading this. I know I'm late and most comments have already been made and such, but I'd still like to give a few comments:

1. Holy hell. That was the most dense writing I've read in forever. I think there were about 15000 adjectives in the whole thing. And I can't quite decide whether I liked it or hated it. I will say one thing about it though, I really like that you didn't just rely on super weighty words. When most people write very descriptive pieces, they feel like they need to be a goddamned Thesaurus and throw out words that no one in their damned mind would use normally. I like that, for the most part, you stuck to what you know... rather than what you thought would make you sound smart.

2. The MAIN problem with this kind of writing (which very much isn't my style to note), is that there is very very very little variance in terms of sentence structure. It almost reminds me of the stories I'd write in 3rd grade: "I walked in the house. Then I walked to the kitchen. Then I jumped up and down and it was fun. Then I..." You get the point. That's not to say I'm comparing your writing to a 3rd grader, it just could use some different sentence structure here and there.

3. Yes, I realize when the man shows up the structure changes like I suggested above... and that the 3 paragraphs before are getting of setting the stage, but it could stand to be a bit more dynamic. As it is right now, its like you were asked to stand in the forest and make a list of what you see, smell, hear, etc. I know that's the point, but the imagery seems a bit lacking (which feels odd to say, since the writing is so thick).

4. "He was in a state of shock, even more than the nature around him." For some reason that sentence cracked me up (in a good way). Probably my favorite line in the whole piece, and I really couldn't tell you why.

5. Most of CF's tense suggestions are right on. Honestly, I know I sound like a broken record with you all.... but random tense shifts can pull a person out of a piece faster than just about anything (other than narration breaks). In a piece like this, its hard for me to go through and tell you what to change... since its a VERY stylized piece and I'm sure alot of it was intentional. Just remember to always read through KEEPING IN MIND your tense as you're reading (although I admit, its hard to catch your own mistakes). Hell, I can't tell if this is supposed to be past or present, 3rd omniscient or some bizarre take on 1st person or WHAT.

6. Overall... it was definitely interesting. Not quite sure where the story is going, but I suppose that's the point. I'd be interested to read more if you ever get around to writing more. Just try not to make the whole piece this wordy. While an endearing quality to an extent, it makes the reading too intimidating to wade through (hence me taking so long to eventually get around to reading it).

[Chris]

Thanks for reading (now i sound like a broken record saying that to every comment xD, but im being truthful). It's 3rd omniscient, no character is telling the story, though that would be quite a twist. I try to keep tense in mind as I write, but sometimes I tend to miss em. Glad to see you liked it, I'm posting Chapter 1 on my "scheduled" prose date, and I minimized adjectives very much too.

[PMA]

:headbang:

Right on man. Keep on keeping on. Writing is good for the bloodflow to the penis, or so I hear.

[Chris]

You hear truth! xD

[LeadingMan]

I'm going to take the opposite stance here of pretty much everyone being that I really enjoyed the descriptions and didn't find them overbearing at all. In fact it's one of the things I criticized your second piece for missing. Haha. Althougt they both share some structure challanges as Nick mentions, and Bundy has it dead on that the two issues bleed into each other, and cause the whole thing to trip every now and again as a result.

Imagine your words like notes. Each has power and sway over the individual piece, and if you intend to cut something short or staccato do it on purpose and with intent. Your adjectives are your chords and together they can help determine the mood so long as they are set to a proper flow. Writing and music have much in common, and when you can tell a story like a song, you hold your readers heart in your hand.

Anyways, I have to say I enjoy this piece much more than your current one. I'm guessing it's because you took more time crafting it, but that's just a shot in the dark.

Hopefully I'll get some time to go more in depth later as I'm at work now and don't have the time to fully respond to TWO of these things. But I dig it.