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SunshineOrange
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 Posted: Thu Aug 28, 2008 11:05 pm Post subject: Future Final; Chapter One - Part One. |
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London, England - 2022
Our streets are dark, even at dawn, with the shadows of death and defeat. What once used to be a thriving city now stands bare, terrorised and alone, just as those who live amongst its haunted suburbs.
They call themselves, The Night; that is after all, their ultimate weapon. Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die. Politics and economy struggle to continue with rising mobs of anarchists and all law and order has been overturned to them. London, as we once know it, has been abandoned by her once reliable neighbours.
Welcome to the end.
London, England - 2015
“Your methods of rationalising with these… terrorists can go on no longer! In your position as Prime Minister, I plead with you to think of those that you stand for!”
General Gillman had planted his hands firmly upon the edge of the desk in the throws of his speech. The wood gave a low creaking whine of protest as his thick fingers gripped with fury. Beads of sweat had begun to form upon his ever lengthening brow and his uniform was slightly askew.
“General, I think you do not understand the position that I am in at the moment. Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. What would I look like if I fought against my own party? The situation is being handled and if you object, then you are free to withdraw the whole of your Territorial Army. By all means, do what is best for your troops.” This was the reply of the Prime Minister, who was seated behind the desk that was whining still. His voice remained at a steady calm tone, although his eyes were strained and time had left its mark across his worn face.
“This is outrageous! I will not allow my troops to follow orders from a leader who does not do his duty. From now on, may you fight without Her Majesty’s Territorial Armed Forces,” Gillman’s once booming voice had now lost its edge and his eyes were wearily staring down at the Prime Minister.
He had lost his mind.
----
“Reports that the Armed Forces have backed out of Government’s new negotiations with terrorists have yet to be confirmed, as rumours have began to escalate--“
The images of General Gillman died from the screen into a black abyss, followed by a static crackle.
“C’mon man, you don’t wanna be watching that crap.” Gretchen remarked, almost in a gentle tone, as she crossed her arms and let her back rest against one of the rooms crème coloured walls. A pair of dungarees were slung about her waist, paint splattered over the stomach of an old shirt beneath them. Flakes of maroon paint clung to strands of her silk blonde hair, which was held back loosely in a clip. The paint looked oddly like blood.
Malcolm looked away from the silence of the TV screen, a crease forming on his forehead as he frowned. A paintbrush dripped maroon paint onto the sheet covered floor as he stood from the small stool he had placed himself upon.
“Makes you wonder what kind of negotiations they’re making, huh?” He quipped, the corner of his lips turning up ever so slightly in the form of a sardonic smile. “Let’s just hope the rumours aren’t true.”
Gretchen winced ever so and studied him a second. His streak of mahogany brown hair hung around his grey eyes shaggily, while his face looked younger than his twenty three years. Yet only a year of being in the police squad had turned his smile sour, and bitterness fogged his eyes when they spoke of the new acts of terrorism. She reached out and touched his arm gently, making him turn and look at her properly, his smile turning to that of a caring nature. He took her hand and drew her up close to his chest, his arms sliding around his waist loosely and he swept away strands of paint stained hair from her face.
“Forget about them. Today, it’s us.” Gretchen’s smile touched her eyes as she let her cheek rest against Malcolm’s chest, but she soon felt him slipping away from their embrace as he walked to turn the TV on once more. Sightings of gangs and Government claims blared from the set and Gretchen felt her eyes grow hot.
“I’m sorry. I gotta keep an eye on everything,” and with that, Malcolm was once again absorbed into the TV set, the images reflecting in his owl-like eyes, which now seemed dead. Obsessed. |
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scasha
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| Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 12:05 am Post subject: Re: Future Final; Chapter One - Part One. |
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Hey Sunshine!
Here's my crit key:
Red = Comments
Bold = Words I've inserted that I think work better
Blue = If I don't feel like using red
Let's do this thing!
| SunshineOrange wrote: |
London, England - 2022
Our streets are dark, even at dawn, with the shadows of death and defeat. What once used to be a thriving city now stands bare, terrorised and alone, just as those who live amongst its haunted suburbs.
They call themselves, The Night; that is Insert comma after all, their ultimate weapon. Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die This sentence was extremley confusing. I didn't know what you were trying to say. Please try to reword it . Politics and economy struggle to continue with rising mobs of anarchists. Law and order no longer exists and all law and order has been overturned to them. London, as we once knew Watch out for your tenses it, has been abandoned by her once reliable neighbours.
Welcome to the end. I loved this line!
London, England - 2015
“Your methods of rationalising with these… terrorists can go on no longer! In your position as Prime Minister, I plead with you to think of those that you stand for!”
General Gillman had planted his hands firmly upon the edge of the desk in the throws of his speech. The wood gave a low creaking whine of protest as his thick fingers gripped the edge with fury. Beads of sweat had begun to form upon his ever lengthening brow, and his uniform was slightly askew.
“General, I think you do not understand the position that I am in at the moment. Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. How would What would I look like if I fought against my own party? The situation is being handled and if you object, then you are free to withdraw the whole of your Territorial Army. By all means, do what is best for your troops,” the Prime Minister replied, sitting behind his desk. This was the reply of the Prime Minister, who was seated behind the desk that was whining still. His voice remainedsteady and calm at a steady calm tone, although his eyes were strained and time had left its mark across his worn face worn.
“This is outrageous! I will not allow my troops to follow orders from a leader who does not do his duty. From now on, may you can fight without Her Majesty’s Territorial Armed Forces,” Gillman’s once booming voice had now lost its edge and his eyes were wearily staring down at the Prime Minister.
He had lost his mind. The prime minister or the General? Be more specific
----
“Reports that the Armed Forces have backed out of Government’s new negotiations with terrorists have yet to be confirmed, as tensions rumours have began to escalate--“ Tensions escalate, rumors ignite, be sure that your wording fits together
The images of General Gillman died from the screen into a black abyss, followed by a static crackle.
“C’mon man, you don’t wanna be watching that crap.” Gretchen remarked, almost in a gentle tone, as she crossed her arms and let her back rest against one of the rooms crème coloured walls. A pair of dungarees were slung about her waist, paint splattered over the stomach of an old shirt beneath them. Flakes of maroon paint clung to strands of her silk blonde hair, which was held back loosely in a clip. The paint looked oddly like blood. This last sentence felt a bit out of place. I scratched it
Malcolm looked away from the silence of the TV screen, a crease forming on his forehead as he frowned. A paintbrush dripped maroon paint onto the sheet covered floor as he stood from the small stool he had sat on had placed himself upon.
“Makes you wonder what kind of negotiations they’re making, huh?” He said quipped, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly in the form of a sardonic smile. “Let’s just hope the rumours aren’t true.”
Gretchen winced ever so and then nodded, studying him studied him a second. His streak of mahogany brown hair hung around his grey eyes shaggily. His face looked younger than his twenty three years. Yet only a year of being in the police squad had turned his smile sour, and bitterness fogged his eyes when he they spoke of the new acts of terrorism. She reached out and touched his arm gently, making him turn and look at her properly, his smile turning to that of a caring nature. He took her hand and drew her up close to his chest, his arms sliding around his waist loosely.He swept away strands of paint stained hair from her face.
“Forget about them. Today, it’s us.” Gretchen’s smile touched her eyes as she let her cheek rest against Malcolm’s chest, but she soon felt him slipping away from their embrace. He walked to turn the TV on once more. This felt a bit too abrupt of a transition from hugging her, to watching TV. Add in a few more sentences to smooth the transition Sightings of gangs and Government claims blared from the set and Gretchen felt her eyes grow hot.
“I’m sorry. I gotta keep an eye on everything,” and with that, Malcolm was once again absorbed into the TV set, the images reflecting in his owl-like eyes, which now seemed dead. Obsessed. |
I liked it! It's a very interesting idea. I liked your descriptions and your general prose.
The Good:
Your descriptions and characterisations.
Stuff that could use a little work:
Overload: Your sentences can be a bit awkward and lengthy. You have a lot of unnecessary words floating around that I tried to cut out. Just try not to be too wordy. Give the readers just as much information as they'll need
Action Please: I was a bit confused throughout the whole thing to say the least. I would rather hear about these terrorist runins than just have you tell us it's all over the news and all over the city. Give us a bit more information, so you don't sound like you're repeating yourself and keep us less in the dark as to what's going on.
Wait, Why?: Watch out for abruptness. Make sure all your characters actions are justified by their personalities. I would like to see a bit more of the general's feelings throughout the piece.
Other than that, keep up the good work. PM me if you have any questions! |
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RowanHowler
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| Posted: Mon Sep 01, 2008 5:53 pm Post subject: |
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Hello,
The first section was very intense. It set the scene well and gave the story instant atmosphere. in other words, I liked it  . Aside from that, I was interested but also confused. I think perhaps the setting could be given more explanation time, and character could be given more attention. The endings tarted to delve into character more, and that's when i truly became interested. Part of the confusion is probably due to the short sectioning, which gives it a choppy feel. I'd try to lengthen and describe more, but overall I like the idea you have going here. It sounds like chaos, and there is nothing more interesting than that.
suggestions-
What once used to be a thriving city - What used to be a thriving city either "once was" or "used to be"
terrorised and alone- terrorized and alone (this might be a different spelling from American English to British English, though.
Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die.- this doesn't make sense to me. The confusion starts at "to watch over". Maybe "so that one by one", but do you mean they kill at night and just bide their time in the day? i think this could be worded more clearly.
In your position as Prime Minister, I plead with you to think of those that you stand for!”- You're the Prime Minister! Think of those that you stand for!”
Beads of sweat had begun to form upon his ever lengthening brow- how can a brow lengthen? That sounds to me like he's mutating.
who was seated behind the desk that was whining still. His voice remained at a steady calm tone- who was seated behind the still-whining desk. His voice remained at a steady, calm tone
were wearily staring down at the Prime Minister.- were staring wearily down at the Prime Minister.- I would suggest taking this a step forward and relying on verb strength instead of adverb.
He had lost his mind.- I don't think it is clear here, who is supposed to have lost their mind. And is the character actually supposed to have gone insane, or is that only the opinion of the other character? |
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Azila
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 5:41 pm Post subject: |
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Hi!
Sorry if I repeat anything other reveiwers have said...
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| London, as we once know it, has been abandoned by her once reliable neighbours. |
Shouldn't that be "knew?"
| Quote: |
| “General, I think you do not understand the position that I am in at the moment. Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. What would I look like if I fought against my own party? The situation is being handled and if you object, then you are free to withdraw the whole of your Territorial Army. By all means, do what is best for your troops.” This was the reply of the Prime Minister, who was seated behind the desk that was whining still. |
Why don't you tell s sooner who is saying this? Say something like "General," replied the Prime Minister," I think you do not... (etc.)" That way we won't be left wondering. ^_~
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| His voice remained at a steady calm tone, although his eyes were strained and time had left its mark across his worn face. |
There should be a comma after "steady."
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| “C’mon man, you don’t wanna be watching that crap.” Gretchen remarked, almost in a gentle tone, as she crossed her arms and let her back rest against one of the rooms crème coloured walls. |
The period before "Gretchen" should be a comma.
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| Flakes of maroon paint clung to strands of her silk blonde hair, which was held back loosely in a clip. |
Shouldn't that be "silky?"
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Malcolm looked away from the silence of the TV screen, a crease forming on his forehead as he frowned. |
"As he frowned" isn't needed, because the fact that a crease is forming on his forehead implies that he's frowning.
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| A paintbrush dripped maroon paint onto the sheet covered floor as he stood from the small stool he had placed himself upon. |
I think that should be "sheet-covered."
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“Makes you wonder what kind of negotiations they’re making, huh?” He quipped, the corner of his lips turning up ever so slightly in the form of a sardonic smile. |
"He" should be lowercase. 
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| Gretchen winced ever so and studied him a second. |
"Ever so?" ^_~ I think you mean "ever so slightly," or some such thing.
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| Yet only a year of being in the police squad had turned his smile sour, and bitterness fogged his eyes when they spoke of the new acts of terrorism. |
The "yet" here is unneeded, because you're not contradicting yourself. So delete it.
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| He took her hand and drew her up close to his chest, his arms sliding around his waist loosely and he swept away strands of paint stained hair from her face. |
This doesn't make sense... who's putting who's arms around who's waist? 
___________________________________________
Overall, I'm going to have to repeat what others have said, I'm afraid. At this point, your style is awkward -- and many times I've had to read a sentence over and over before it makes sense. I strongly suggest you read your work out loud, thinking about the flow and rhythm of it all so that it sounds natural. You're a poet, aren't you? I seem to remember seeing your work in the poetry forums. If I remember correctly, and you DO write poetry: think of bringing some of that attention to rhythm into your prose. It will help.
Also, the plot seems a little bit choppy, because you jump around to different stories... but I almost think that's a good thing, for the beginning anyway, because it gives us a chance to get acquainted with a bunch of different characters and situations.
Well, that's about all I've got to say. I hope it helps!
Please pm me if I was unclear or anything. 
~Azila~ |
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chocoholic
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| Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2008 11:08 pm Post subject: |
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Well, here's my critique, as promised! I don't know how good it'll be, but I'll try. And I haven't read the other reviews, so I apologise if I repeat anything.
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London, England - 2022
Our streets are dark, even at dawn, with the shadows of death and defeat. What once used to be a thriving city now stands bare, terrorised and alone, just as those who live amongst its haunted suburbs. |
Already I'm scared because this is less than twenty years away. I like how you said 'Our' instead of something else. It gives the story a different depth.
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| They call themselves, The Night; that is after all, their ultimate weapon. |
I think this would read better as, They call themselves The Night. It is, after all, their ultimate weapon.
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| Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die. |
This sentence doesn't really make much sense. I think you should replace 'that' with 'while'.
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| Welcome to the end. |
That's really, really cool.
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| London, England - 2015 |
Even closer, even scarier!
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| “Your methods of rationalising with these… terrorists can go on no longer! |
What methods? You never tell us what these are in this chapter. I'd like to know.
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| I think you do not understand the position that I am in at the moment. |
This sentence sounds weird. I'd re-write it to something like, I do not think you understand the position I am in at the moment.
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| Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. |
But isn't he the PM? If they've voted him out, surely he wouldn't be the Prime Minister anymore?
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| This was the reply of the Prime Minister |
I really don't think you need to say this.
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| He had lost his mind. |
Who did? I'm not sure whether you're talking about the PM or the General.
Overall, I really liked this, and I don't usually like lot of this type of stuff. Have you read Bloodtide by Melvin Burgess? This reminded me of that a lot.
Usually I would say that the telling instead of showing is bad, but I really think it worked for this story.
Drop me a line when you post the next part! |
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Rubric
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| Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2008 1:44 pm Post subject: |
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Hah, you're the first to ask for a review, so I'm duty bound to respond, but this seems to have been gone over pretty thoroughly! Most of what I'm going to say is a reiteration of what has alrady been picked up.
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| They call themselves, The Night; that is after all, their ultimate weapon. Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die. |
They actually call themselves "The Night"?, surely they're more creative than that. Also lose that first comma, there's no need for it. The semicolon should be a comma and if you're going to have that second comma it needs to bave abuddy before "after".
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| Politics and economy |
Politics and economics, or, Politics and the economy.
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| In your position as Prime Minister |
He should refer to his own rank, not the prime ministers. Ie, listen to me, im a general.
gripped *it* with fury
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| Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. |
Parliament has voted against me, ten to one.
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| who was seated behind the desk that was whining still |
who was seated behind the still-whining desk
seldom do these words go together, but it could work
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| He had lost his mind. |
I know everyone thinks you need to change this, to make it more specific and clear; but I love it precisely because it's ambiguous. Who indeed has lost their mind? The idea that the reader doesn't know who to trust is awesome. of course if this is not what you intended you may wish to change it as advised earlier.
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| as rumours have began to escalate |
it has already been noted that rumours do not escalate
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| Flakes of maroon paint clung to strands of her silk blonde hair, which was held back loosely in a clip. The paint looked oddly like blood. |
lose the sentence and call the paint "bloody maroon"
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| while his face looked younger than his twenty three years |
personally I prefer "its twenty three years" as the years should refer to his face, rather than to him.
repeating the colour isn't wise, if you took my earlier advise you could describe it as "bloody paint" here, just to add to the imagery.
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| making him turn and look at her properly |
if you replace the word "making" with "causing" it sounds less aggressive.
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| Gretchen felt her eyes grow |
I guess there could be tears, but if you want anger, it should be cheeks growing hot.
owlish eyes
Hope this helped  |
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Reason Invalid
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| Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2008 11:08 pm Post subject: |
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Since you have gotten quite a few grammatical reviews already, I guess I'll be brief and talk about the story itself:
I feel that the first section needs to be slightly longer. Two paragraphs and a sentence, in my opinion, isn't quite enough to convey the doom you are trying to convey. Perhaps even more descriptive language and this and that would enhance the atmosphere you want to set up. You want to thrill your reader so that they want to see how London became what you described when you jump back in time. Also, if possible, I think you should try to 'show' more than 'telling'. It's nice to know about 'The Night', but what do they do? What are they like when they're doing what they're supposed to do? Show us an example!
The second section is pretty alright, asides from the grammatic and syntax problems pointed out. However, it feels slightly generic. Thus, I'd suggest you to add more depth to the characters or be more atmospheric in writing.
I guess that's all. It's still kind of sort to judge. Keep at it! |
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mysteriousbystander
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| Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 3:36 am Post subject: |
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London, England - 2022
Our streets are dark, even at dawn, with the shadows of death and defeat. What once used to be a thriving city now stands bare, terrorised and alone, just as those who live amongst its haunted suburbs. Sounds interesting...
They call themselves, The Night; that is after all, their ultimate weapon. Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die. Politics and economy struggle to continue with rising mobs of anarchists and all law and order has been overturned to them. London, as we once know it, has been abandoned by her once reliable neighbours.
Welcome to the end.
London, England - 2015
“Your methods of rationalising with these… terrorists can go on no longer! In your position as Prime Minister, I plead with you to think of those that you stand for!”
General Gillman had planted his hands firmly upon the edge of the desk in the throws of his speech. The wood gave a low creaking whine of protest as his thick fingers gripped with fury. Beads of sweat had begun to form upon his ever lengthening brow and his uniform was slightly askew.
“General, I think you do not understand the position that I am in at the moment. Those at Parliament have voted me out, ten to one. What would I look like if I fought against my own party? The situation is being handled and if you object, then you are free to withdraw the whole of your Territorial Army. By all means, do what is best for your troops.” This was the reply of the Prime Minister, "This was the reply" sounded a bit off, to me. who was seated behind the desk that was whining still. His voice remained at a steady calm tone, although his eyes were strained and time had left its mark across his worn face.
“This is outrageous! I will not allow my troops to follow orders from a leader who does not do his duty. From now on, may you fight without Her Majesty’s Territorial Armed Forces,” Gillman’s once booming voice had now lost its edge and his eyes were wearily staring down at the Prime Minister.
He had lost his mind.
----
“Reports that the Armed Forces have backed out of Government’s new negotiations with terrorists have yet to be confirmed, as rumours have began to escalate--“
The images of General Gillman died from the screen into a black abyss, followed by a static crackle.
“C’mon man, you don’t wanna be watching that crap.” Gretchen remarked, almost in a gentle tone, as she crossed her arms and let her back rest against one of the rooms crème coloured walls. A pair of dungarees were slung about her waist, paint splattered over the stomach of an old shirt beneath them. Flakes of maroon paint clung to strands of her silk blonde hair, which was held back loosely in a clip. The paint looked oddly like blood. I like your descriptions.
Malcolm looked away from the silence of the TV screen, a crease forming on his forehead as he frowned. A paintbrush dripped maroon paint onto the sheet covered floor as he stood from the small stool he had placed himself upon.
“Makes you wonder what kind of negotiations they’re making, huh?” He quipped, the corner of his lips turning up ever so slightly in the form of a sardonic smile. “Let’s just hope the rumours aren’t true.”
Gretchen winced ever so and studied him a second. His streak of mahogany brown hair hung around his grey eyes shaggily, while his face looked younger than his twenty three years. Yet only a year of being in the police squad had turned his smile sour, and bitterness fogged his eyes when they spoke of the new acts of terrorism. She reached out and touched his arm gently, making him turn and look at her properly, his smile turning to that of a caring nature. He took her hand and drew her up close to his chest, his arms sliding around his waist loosely and he swept away strands of paint stained hair from her face.
“Forget about them. Today, it’s us.” Gretchen’s smile touched her eyes as she let her cheek rest against Malcolm’s chest, but she soon felt him slipping away from their embrace as he walked to turn the TV on once more. Sightings of gangs and Government claims blared from the set and Gretchen felt her eyes grow hot.
“I’m sorry. I gotta keep an eye on everything,” and with that, Malcolm was once again absorbed into the TV set, the images reflecting in his owl-like eyes, which now seemed dead. Obsessed.
I like it so far... especially your style of writing, the way you describe things. Keep writing. =)
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PenguinAttack
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| Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 9:41 am Post subject: |
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Hola, dear.
They call themselves, The Night; < No comma before “The”
Terrorists, thugs, thieves and murderers joined to an elite force, to watch over the days that one by one, we all die. < That one by one we all die? Even that one by one? ... This confuses me greatly, I know what you’re saying, but it’s not translating in your text.
“...who was seated behind the desk that was whining still.” < “Who was seated behind the whining desk” would be more concise and sound a little better.
I really like this, LizzyG. I’m looking forward to reading more, I’m sorry this is a bit of a useless crit. I think that the scenes are a little short but you’ve got a great handle on the characterisation of the thing. Nice work.
*hearts* Le Penguin. |
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