02-08-2013, 03:48 PM
Thanks for the contiuing support Serge
Todd - wow! Thank you for all of your input. Ok, between your notes and Serge's thoughts, it looks like I need to do a major re-write.
I spotted your reply late last night and have got up an hour earlier to make a start on this. (Back to my old habits instead of trying to write at the weekends - thanks for this as well, I needed to get out of the rut I’ve been in for some time).
Couple of questions: You do not think that straying too far away from the physical aspects, this early in the dialog will be confusing? (A bit like the individual characters of the children are initially set in normal settings before they go through the wardrobe). I had set this out as a sort of intro to draw people into a picture (with a few hits on the hearts strings I hoped) and just a small amount of personification of the beach. It was my intent to then launch into the Narnia type experience from the initial first view from the description of a physical beach. You obviously think I should go for it from the outset and depart from this concept. (I'm going to be getting on with this immediately and not wait on an answer as such - I'm just post explaining the text above a bit more before I change it for comparison purposes on the edit). As it stands at the moment each of the parts of this series introduces another character in / area of her life and her persona and life story is slowly disclosed throughout. Also this was only meant to be a short story style piece. I'm concerned that if I expand too many details in my intro it will end up as a book. (The other sections get progressively longer already). I'm not saying a longer version is the wrong idea...just putting it out there as a point.
(I am highly excited that you would use CS Lewis Narnia series as a reference point to discuss this in context with. If I had to choose someone I would most like to be compared to or capable of emulating...I know you did no such thing but even a mention on the same page is enough for now).
Thank you so much to both Serge and Todd for all the notes you have given me. Off to work work now...just wanted to show my gratitude on the thread before i go AJ
Ok here is a start to an edit. (If anyone is watching yes i've changed the post from what I put up earlier...I'm really struggling with this edit...hated the first effort).
I wanted to post what i've done before I do any further work, to get some feed back on the changes made / tone taken. I'm not sure I haven't lost something in how I've handled this.
Be intersted to hear some quick thoughts. I've introduced a couple of the other characters into the text and tried to fill out with some images.
Thanks for the help AJ.
The Beach.
Before a wave breaks upon the shore, she sags, resigned in her defeat. From above, high blue shines his benevolence down upon her and behind her the cliff face offers her a shady sanctuary, whilst her sisters sing uplifting songs on either side of her. Self revile is written in stark, scrawling etch marks across her flanks, upon her breast, scars bare an open witness to her regret. Oily ooze collects in the gutters made by those who have defiled her. Lifeless and listless she lies abandoned. Chafing against the boundaries she is forced to exist within and her own limitations. In the gutters of her condition, a miniature representation of her existence is played out, as grains of sand float across the oily expanse, like the crusted tears of a turtle, they collect and bind together in a gritty conglomerate caught in the cross wind of a recession, swirling in eddies and whirlpools of random chance, before they make a bid for their final goal and strike out for the other shore. From the depths within, countless tears well up. Pushing past a countless multitude individual sand grains, and making tract of confessional disclosure to her condition. First a trickle, then a stream – a constant flow. Drawn by a force unseen. Running over her defilement, down her face and sides, filling the scars left by sharp implements and boots, colouring her pale and drawn complexion - a dark blush, of a passionate outpouring that cannot not be held in. Running over, running down; cutting a swath across all that has eaten and covered her beauty. Like a breach in a dam it will not be contained and in gathering assertiveness, the tide of tears smoothes a path through the debris and leads her thoughts back to the desire of her heart. In the last rays of the evening light, pools collect and reflect a secret identity, seen through the mirror which high blue holds to her face, her reflection glimmers and shines with a beauty that surpasses all that she currently could be. Deep reservoirs of a promise of hiddeness yet to be discovered. Her check is brushed and caressed by a soft word carried on the wind. She responds.
Todd - wow! Thank you for all of your input. Ok, between your notes and Serge's thoughts, it looks like I need to do a major re-write.
I spotted your reply late last night and have got up an hour earlier to make a start on this. (Back to my old habits instead of trying to write at the weekends - thanks for this as well, I needed to get out of the rut I’ve been in for some time).
Couple of questions: You do not think that straying too far away from the physical aspects, this early in the dialog will be confusing? (A bit like the individual characters of the children are initially set in normal settings before they go through the wardrobe). I had set this out as a sort of intro to draw people into a picture (with a few hits on the hearts strings I hoped) and just a small amount of personification of the beach. It was my intent to then launch into the Narnia type experience from the initial first view from the description of a physical beach. You obviously think I should go for it from the outset and depart from this concept. (I'm going to be getting on with this immediately and not wait on an answer as such - I'm just post explaining the text above a bit more before I change it for comparison purposes on the edit). As it stands at the moment each of the parts of this series introduces another character in / area of her life and her persona and life story is slowly disclosed throughout. Also this was only meant to be a short story style piece. I'm concerned that if I expand too many details in my intro it will end up as a book. (The other sections get progressively longer already). I'm not saying a longer version is the wrong idea...just putting it out there as a point.
(I am highly excited that you would use CS Lewis Narnia series as a reference point to discuss this in context with. If I had to choose someone I would most like to be compared to or capable of emulating...I know you did no such thing but even a mention on the same page is enough for now).
Thank you so much to both Serge and Todd for all the notes you have given me. Off to work work now...just wanted to show my gratitude on the thread before i go AJ
Ok here is a start to an edit. (If anyone is watching yes i've changed the post from what I put up earlier...I'm really struggling with this edit...hated the first effort).
I wanted to post what i've done before I do any further work, to get some feed back on the changes made / tone taken. I'm not sure I haven't lost something in how I've handled this.
Be intersted to hear some quick thoughts. I've introduced a couple of the other characters into the text and tried to fill out with some images.
Thanks for the help AJ.
The Beach.
Before a wave breaks upon the shore, she sags, resigned in her defeat. From above, high blue shines his benevolence down upon her and behind her the cliff face offers her a shady sanctuary, whilst her sisters sing uplifting songs on either side of her. Self revile is written in stark, scrawling etch marks across her flanks, upon her breast, scars bare an open witness to her regret. Oily ooze collects in the gutters made by those who have defiled her. Lifeless and listless she lies abandoned. Chafing against the boundaries she is forced to exist within and her own limitations. In the gutters of her condition, a miniature representation of her existence is played out, as grains of sand float across the oily expanse, like the crusted tears of a turtle, they collect and bind together in a gritty conglomerate caught in the cross wind of a recession, swirling in eddies and whirlpools of random chance, before they make a bid for their final goal and strike out for the other shore. From the depths within, countless tears well up. Pushing past a countless multitude individual sand grains, and making tract of confessional disclosure to her condition. First a trickle, then a stream – a constant flow. Drawn by a force unseen. Running over her defilement, down her face and sides, filling the scars left by sharp implements and boots, colouring her pale and drawn complexion - a dark blush, of a passionate outpouring that cannot not be held in. Running over, running down; cutting a swath across all that has eaten and covered her beauty. Like a breach in a dam it will not be contained and in gathering assertiveness, the tide of tears smoothes a path through the debris and leads her thoughts back to the desire of her heart. In the last rays of the evening light, pools collect and reflect a secret identity, seen through the mirror which high blue holds to her face, her reflection glimmers and shines with a beauty that surpasses all that she currently could be. Deep reservoirs of a promise of hiddeness yet to be discovered. Her check is brushed and caressed by a soft word carried on the wind. She responds.