Excerpt Critique

[Daeus]

Hey ya gents and gentresses (ha! I created a word. *Deep satisfaction*),

I’d like a critique. I’ll have it will done thank you.

So what’s going on is I’m writing a novel. (Surprise?) I’m only in the early parts though and I figured it would be a good idea to get some input on my writing now so I can try to avoid any major flaws in the rest of my writing. So, if you would be so kind as to oblige, well that would be just jolly.

I’ve got one excerpt here and I’m going to post another one soon. I have purposely not edited them before putting them up on here. Fire away!

Through the streets of London meandered a lone man. He was of a commanding appearance, tall, young, with an look of keen discernment blatant upon his physiognomy. His thick winter coat was drenched with the freezing rain but he seemed not to care. He plodded carelessly through the torrents which sent all his countrymen in doors, heedless of the chill. His mind was evidently far from the world around him. It was wrestling with great forces within. He seemed not to mind the way he went, but ever, as by some attractant force, he drew nearer and nearer to his destination.

At last he came upon it, though evidently with no great contentment at the arrival. He looked coldly at the stone architecture of high but spiritless appearance. Around the perimeter of the premise stretched a blank green hedge, a beacon of formality. This was not as much a sign as if the establishment had written their name and purpose in letters as large as a man’s hand, indeed more clear for the illiterate. It was a custom along that street, and yet not a recognized custom, to mark each building with its own biological sign. At one shop, rose bushes bordered the entrance, now bare, but in the summer fair and inviting asking the busy traveler to stop and peek at the wares. One pear tree could be found along that road, and it belonged to none other than a retired country gentleman fond of eating the fruits of his labor. Still at the local tavern there was no greater flora than a patch of weeds as if to say, ”Come on in friend, we have no need of introduction.”

The hedge before which the man stood spoke much. It spoke that the establishment was of a high standing and yet its grandeur was not of wealth or pomp, but of daunting power. It spoke moreover that the establishment was an island, a base from which many tasks were commanded, many things looked into, but which itself was nobody’s business but its own.

In the deep recesses of his mind, the man turned from considering these things to the greater issue at hand. It laid heavily upon him. He remained there for some time pondering and pondering. At last with less of resolution than determination, he trod up the stone pathway that led to the door. Meeting that barrier, he mustered all his strength and opened it. For sometime he remained inside.

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[Kate Flournoy]

First, let me say I really liked it how you took a Dickensian twist to the street and identified each house or building by its shrubbery. That was so cool.

Most of what I have to criticize (that’s such a harsh word) has to do with style. Now. The butchery.

I had a lot of the problems I’m seeing here when I started out, so I was able to recognize them.
1: Generally, it’s not a good idea to start too many sentences in a row with the subject. He did this. He did that. His something or other.
It ends up sounding choppy, static, and a little blunt in an unpleasant sort of way. Try some other sentence structures.
2: I notice you use a lot of big words. That’s not a problem in itself. I would be the absolute last person in the world to pick on someone for using big words. But often the big words (physiognomy for instance) come in the middle of a sentence filled with plain, everyday words, and give the reader a shock and a sense of stilted, strained drama stretched too thin over too much that’s not particularly dramatic. If you’re going to use big words, you should make sure to use them strategically. Also, your MC’s emotions are given in such high and noble words that I found it difficult to even understand what emotion he was experiencing, much less feel it with him.
Tied to this discussion is 3: You tend to throw in poetic, flowery style randomly. Your style consists of a strange mixture of the commonplace and dramatic, making it difficult for the reader to concentrate on the story.
4: your descriptions were a little vague. They were good descriptions, but VERY general, and I wasn’t getting much more than a flat grey sense of how things were. Try throwing in a few details.

And try to forgive me for picking your lovely piece to pieces. Good luck. This shows promise.

INFP. kateeverythingwriting.wordpress.com

[Daeus]

Thanks Kate, that was very helpful. Hopefully my other excerpt will help you see what problems I have everywhere and which are just sporadic. Do you think two is enough, or should I add another one?

Point four especially hit me as being true. Point one is definitely a problem for me, but I think that is partially a reaction to how I used to never use a subject opener more than once in a row (which is ridiculous and can actually make things sound worse.) But I’ll try to work on that for sure.

As for my character, yeah, I see what you’re saying, but I think at least half of the problem is that I’ve thrown him in here completely out of context. He actually first appeared in the chapter before this and you see him later in this chapter too.

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