Firstly, merry christmas to those who celebrate! I’m working through rewrites, and decided to change up the opening. How is it? Any weird words, phrases, or grammar? How is character work and how is setting?
EDIT: Here is a 2nd version, I wonder if it’s going in the right direction. Original version below.
——
REVISED
The world was quiet at this hour; her mind was not. Nina was high enough that the forest floor below faded into black nothingness. The horizon was a deep, dark bruise underlined in a pastel sweep of scattered clouds. There wasn’t enough light to work yet.
She shut her eyes and waited for the darkness behind her lids to turn gold. Then, she set her carving knife against a piece of wood the width of three fingers, the length of her hand. The rhythm of the blade hummed through her forearms as she carved to keep her memories at bay. Maybe she shouldn’t have picked this shape, but it was the only thing she could envision. Each curl of pale wood had an earthy, pleasant scent that reminded her of sweetened black tea. Cool shavings gathered along her wrists.
The rounded head of a barn owl took shape. Its visage angled like a creased leaf cut into the shape of a heart. Its body faced west while its head turned to her. No eyes yet, save for two dents where the tip of her knife had pricked in for reference. She wanted them to be round and innocent. Not sharp like hers.
For a moment, it was only wood, harmless in her hands. The world below woke up in a ballad of murmured conversation, bright thrusts of laughter, the clink of shifting armor, a horse’s restless snort. Soldiers gathered for morning briefing in the clearing of packed earth a few stone throws from her tree.
The melody faded beneath the pounding in her skull. The scent of fresh wood soured to sulfur. Her vision blurred; the light of morning bled into a mottled, furious orange.
She was back on her last mission for the Syndicate.
* * *
A suffocating orange haze hung over blackened ground. The village was reduced to a skeletal ruin. Her chest spasmed from sickly sweet sulfur; she coughed into a grimy fist, lungs burning.
——
ORIGINAL
The world was quiet at this hour; her mind was not. Nina’s forearms protested as rough bark gripped her callouses. One more push. She shoved the toe of her boot in a knot on the trunk, took a deep breath. In one fluid motion, her arms pulled her up, she hauled her leg over the thick oak, and balanced with both hands against the branch. Her aching lungs relearned their resting rhythm. Insects chittered, early birds whistled and warbled, and the breeze teased the leaves in a shy rustle.
She was high enough that the forest floor below faded into nothingness. The horizon was a deep, dark bruise underlined in a pastel sweep of scattered clouds. With a heavy sigh, Nina rested her head back against the trunk, the bark pressing gently into her spine. She reached into the pocket of her trousers, wrapping her hand around a smooth chunk of wood the width of three fingers and the length of her hand. Her other fingers sought the carving knife from the sheath on her belt and held both items in her lap. There wasn’t enough light to work yet.
Nina shut her eyes and waited for the darkness behind her lids to turn gold. When she opened them, tired stars winked out against the onslaught of sunrise. Then she set her knife against the wood. All it had was the rounded head of a barn owl. The two flattened sides of its visage angled like a creased leaf cut into the shape of a heart. Its body faced west while its head turned to her. No eyes yet, save for two dents where the tip of her knife had pricked in for reference. She wanted them to be round and innocent. Not sharp like hers.
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The second sentence threw me off. Are there callouses on her forearms? I know what you meant but the wording and imagery are awkward.
Most importantly, the wording was dense and hard to read. You switch between active and passive voice, "she shoved" & "her arms pulled." There's a lot of unnecessary verbiage. It reads like a poem and you're clearly a good writer but I got lost and didn't know what was going on by the end.
I learned that less is more in writing. One of your main goals in revision should be cutting out superfluous content. Know exactly what you want to say and say it in a clear and cogent way.
I don't know what the main idea of your intro is. My best guess is the character climbs a really tall tree to finish a carving of an owl. Why is she doing this? What's the point? What's her motivation?
Character development should drive the narrative. The reader relates to the character. It's what sucks us in to a really good book. Introduce your readers to Nina. Make her a real person. Tells us why she's doing what she's doing. Why is it important to her. Why should it be important to us?
Think of writing this way: your readers have a very limited attention span and you have a very small window to grab their attention. The intro should do that in a simple and compelling way. You lost me at the second sentence.
I don't know if this helps but I think you have the makings of a good story. Start with the bones of your story. Why is it a good story? Why should we relate to Nina and care about her? Keep the wording short and simple at first. Add the metaphors and imagery after you've established a solid story outline.
I'm excited to read your revisions.
Thank you! Yes, I have to edit it more and “prune my darlings”. My major struggle was point of entry for the chapter. It’s interesting you say it sounded poetic. I always find that I have to do an editing pass to simplify things. I come from a background of poetry and songwriting so it’s been a learning curve translating my thoughts into prose.
Great tips, I’ll keep working at it!
The revision reads much better. The setting is clearer but maybe tell us exactly where she's at in the first sentence. Is she in a tree or sitting on a rocky bluff overlooking the encampment. I'd like to put myself in her shoes and I need a little more detail about her surroundings. Personally, and it's just my opinion, I think it's more realistic if she's sitting on some high ground and not in a tree unless her character has a reason for climbing trees. Again just my opinion. But again the revision is much better. Keep it up!
You want honesty? Really?
I didn’t make it past the first paragraph and that was a slog. Nothing made me care. At all. She’s climbing a tree ok.
The bark callouses bit was also kind of gross.
Nothing is happening and I already hate the character. Some of your similes are weird too.
Thank you for the feedback. I’m still looking for the best point of entry for the first chapter. Looks like this might not be it. I originally had it much later, but wondered if this part would be something that worked for readers.
Might it be better if I just skip to the carving?
I would definitely start with some meaningful action.
Setting is great. Description is good. I was intrigued by the first line and read to the end, but I still hadn't learned anything about why her mind is never calm. Could you add a touch more info about the character at the start of the second paragraph?
I think I might stream line the first paragraph to a few lines and get to that faster. Originally, I started with her carving, and the carving triggered a memory that also dealt with the bird. She’s an ex-assassin who escaped her organization to join the other side. If you’re interested, here’s the next chunk:
The rhythm of the blade hummed through her forearms. Maybe she shouldn’t have picked this shape, but it was the only thing she could envision. Each curl of pale wood had an earthy, pleasant scent that reminded her of sweetened black tea. Cool shavings gathered along her wrists. For a moment, it was only wood, harmless in her hands. The world below woke up in a ballad of murmured conversation, bright thrusts of laughter, the clink of shifting armor, a horse’s restless snort. The Guard gathered for morning briefing in the clearing of packed earth a few stone throws from her tree.
The melody faded beneath the pounding in her skull. The scent of fresh wood soured to sulfur. Her vision blurred; the light of morning bled into a mottled, furious orange.
She was back on her last mission for the Syndicate.
A suffocating orange haze hung over blackened ground. The village was reduced to a skeletal ruin. Her chest spasmed from sickly sweet sulfur; she coughed into a grimy fist, lungs burning. A hooded figure stepped through the wreckage—her handler, Mirage. The woman stooped and picked up the scorched carving.
“How fitting.” The lilt in her tone, so casual, as if the obliteration of an entire village was just another job. Mirage threw it back at her feet, agitating a puff of grey. Nina’s heart sank with the bird, into the pile of dark ash. Her heartbeat fluttered violently in her ears. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”
Nausea slithered up her throat. Sharp, quick gasps struggled to enter her lungs.
Mirage’s eyes narrowed, bright as polished bronze against the fire behind Nina. Her smile fell. “Let’s go, Little Bird.”
Nina wanted to fight, scream, run—anything. But her body wouldn’t obey. She couldn’t leave this place. If she did, then the destruction was real. And she couldn’t take it back. Her handler’s fingers clawed into her arm: “Remember your place.”
The phrase cracked through her like a whip. Her body obeyed, muscles locking into rigid poise. Her vision tunneled. The world twisted as light and shadow swallowed fire into smoke.
The last thing she saw was the burnt wooden bird.
Her locked fingers suddenly spasmed. The knife bit a chunk of the wing and flattened it. Uneven now. Her lips pressed tight as she set the blade against the other side, as if balance could erase the flaw.
“It’s a little lopsided, don’t you think?” A voice called from the branches below. Her pulse flattened, her muscles coiled, ready to climb, to jump and escape. The blade froze against the wood.
I really like this!!! If you could get to this point a little faster somehow it would be awesome!!
Sweet, thank you! Yeah, I was struggling with the opening specifically. I think I have a good direction now!
I apologize if I came off as pedantic. Writing is hard but criticizing it is easy. I like your character's history and I think it'd be cool to tie that in to her contemporary situation at the start. Good luck!
Not at all! Your thoughts really help. I’ve got thick enough skin, no worries.
If you’re willing, I made an update in the post. Is it going in a better direction?