Drudgery

[jackofallgeeks]

He sat himself at the table, his muscles groaning in relief, as she buisied herself at the fire. A large pot was hung over the flames, boilling a milky-colored stew. It was probably goat again. The rain beat against the windows as she dished out the stew, her ladle clinking dully, first against the pot and then against each of the stone-work bowls. "The wooden shingles leak over in the corner." She said flatly, motioning with her head. "You'll need to fix them." 'When we have the money' was left implied. She placed the heavy-smelling bowl infront of him and then took her own seat. The iron spoon, smooth and bent by years of use, slid familiarly into his hand. He would tell her about the oxen tomorrow.

Comments

Looks good yo...

[serenabuny.livejournal.com]

Watch in your writing for repetitions. Like "stew". We know what it is now, so develope its image as a stew by using others descripters. Watch out for using "was" too much. It clutters up the writing and slows down the pace. Cut out other clutter words that aren't necessary unless being used style-wise and watch for empty qualifiers like "really" and "very". Not that you used any of those, but keep an eye out for them. And use strong verbs "motioning with her head"-> "jerking her head towards the corner". With this you could cut out " over in the corner." And when you say "wooden shingles" in this same sentence, it implies that some of the shingles are made of other materials, and only the wooden ones leak. Is this what you're trying to say? They must be living in a run down house that used to be nice if they have wooden shingles. Most poor people would use thatching because wood's expensive... Keep up the writing! Love and huggles!...

[nif.livejournal.com]

Ok, Andrew, I'm digging the scenes you've got going on. And I know you didn't ask for my advice or anything, so if you don't want it just stop reading here. If you're still with me, then I give the warning that I'm a very blunt critic, because the world is a very blunt critic and its only fair. Anyhow, now that you're scared and all, I will point out the good things I see, I'm going to stay focused on the Drudgery one since thats what sparked such a debate with you and Claire.

First off, I liked it and this is why: it was descriptive- the audience wasn't left floating in space, it had something ordinary the reader could identify with, and it hinted that there was more going on in the scene than first realized. However, that something was never really brought out. Just as the reader was enticed into the message beneath the surface you ended it.

The language was good, but it seemed a bit forced as if you sat and thought about the descriptors for a while. Some of it doesn't flow, and when details don't flow, it creates a "bump" in the reading and takes away from the point of using all that imagery. I don't know if you realize it, but you're describing only from a narrative standpoint, not as the characters are viewing things. This alienates the reader from the character. If the characters are only supposed to be allegorical symbols, thats fine, but if you want them to be *people* then you need to get the reader inside their heads.

Alright. So. To illustrate, this is how I would have done the scene if I had written it. Its not to say that my style is better than yours, but its just to give you a different take on it. Maybe you can identify an aspect that you'd like to incorporate, or one you'd like to stay away from. I dunno. I'm trying to help. Here goes.

Drudgery de la Nif

There was a drip in the corner of the room. The rain water had snaked its way through the meager wooden shingles, invading the little insular world.

There were days he thought the workload would get the best of him and he'd be left with nothing. With not even this rough hewn eating table he'd built with his own hands.

His muscles protested the shift as he sat down heavily, palms flat against the fire-warmed wood. He tried to focus only on the crackle of the fire and the gentle liquid sounds of stew being stirred. It was goat as it always was these days. The leak seemed to tap louder now as the droplets spattered on the hard packed floor.

She had seen the weariness on his face and knew as well as he that the storm had caused problems today. She wondered if the oxen were alright, but found she couldn't bring herself to really care. The ladle tapped against the cold stone of the bowls, mimicking with precision that ever present leak.

He twitched as he heard it but said nothing and she laid the bowl on the oversized table. She sat carefully across from him, and stared at her own bowl. They were quiet, the rain unobtrusive except for the tiny insidious drops that worked their way in.

"The wooden shingles leak over in the corner." It was a sharp statement, and unnecessary. "You'll need to fix them." She hadn't touched her stew.

He closed his eyes, shoving a spoonful of burning liquid into his mouth, and listened as the rain ate away at his home.

He would tell her about the oxen tomorrow.