John Noble (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jackofallgeeks) wrote2004-02-11 10:02 pm
jackofallgeeks) wrote2004-02-11 10:02 pm
The Ascension: It Begins
Finally got some writing done. This afternoon I only had that first paragraph and an idea on where I want it to go. Now, well... I think maybe I can start going somewhere with this! This is the novel I want to write -- God willing, maybe I will.
The Ascension: It Begins
The latch popped as he slammed his shoulder into the steel door, a hollow boom echoing back down the stairwell as he launched outside onto the roof, the soles of his sneakers sliding over the rain-wet gravel. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth into his stubbly brown goatee and his dirty-blonde bangs hung down over his piercing blue eyes, already drenched by the downpour of the storm-torn night. He brushed his dripping bangs out of his face and searched the roof as sounds rumbled up from the open doorway behind him. The Operatives were closing in now, and they would have him if he didn't move.
He staggered across the rooftop, clutching a hand over his cramped side, his hooded sweatshirt heavy with rain, and the gravel crunched wetly under his footfalls. The sapphire teardrop pendant he wore around his neck bounced off his chest in an off-beat rhythm. His legs were leaden long before he got to the large, dark, blocky air-conditioning unit only a dozen feet from the door. He pulled himself around to its back side, away from the stairwell, and slid down to the ground, trying to catch his breath and take in the rooftop all at once.
Several other air-conditioning units stood at odd intervals around the rooftop, ducts and pipes sinking into the roof and steamy vapor rising into the churning mass of purple and grey above the roof. The rain poured down, pooling beneath the gravel on the roof, and running in icy rivulets down his neck and along his spine. The sparse noises of traffic rose up from the streets far below.
Just on the other side of the roof, a ladder clung to the edge of the building, scrapping metallically against the brick siding in the sharp wind. It dipped down between two buildings; if he got to it he could climb into the alley below and escape his pursuers on the ground of the city.
He stood up, and was just about to leave his spot behind the air-conditioning unit when three figures appeared out of the stairwell.
The first one on the left was tall and pale, his circular glasses flashing blue in the odd light of the night. His head was completely bald, and he had a neatly-cropped black beard around his mouth. A haughty smirk seemed perpetually on his face, and he stood there, his white lab coat blowing in the wind, as though he owned the place. He probably did.
The second one, standing on the right, was clean-shaven and short – he seemed shorter due to his stoutness, and shorter still because of his hunched-over manner. He held his arms away from his body like a bear might, if a bear were dressed in a back sweater and heavy brown cargo pants. A dark grey visor obscured his eyes, which itself was obscured by his shaggy, wildly-blown brown hair. He wore a pair of bulky-looking metal boots with chromed struts. His visored gaze swept the rooftop from side to side, like an animal on the scent of his prey.
The third man stood behind the other two, like a large, ominous shadow. His charcoal Armani suit matched his dark skin; he looked as though he’d been carved from a single block of obsidian. His head, too, was completely bald, and his rock-like jaw was clean-shaven. A pair of black sunglasses completed his visage, streaks of purple lightning reflecting back periodically. His thick arms were held loosely at his side, and he clutched his hands at his waist, looking as though he had just entered a negotiations meeting with a rival company.
The Ascension: It Begins
The latch popped as he slammed his shoulder into the steel door, a hollow boom echoing back down the stairwell as he launched outside onto the roof, the soles of his sneakers sliding over the rain-wet gravel. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth into his stubbly brown goatee and his dirty-blonde bangs hung down over his piercing blue eyes, already drenched by the downpour of the storm-torn night. He brushed his dripping bangs out of his face and searched the roof as sounds rumbled up from the open doorway behind him. The Operatives were closing in now, and they would have him if he didn't move.
He staggered across the rooftop, clutching a hand over his cramped side, his hooded sweatshirt heavy with rain, and the gravel crunched wetly under his footfalls. The sapphire teardrop pendant he wore around his neck bounced off his chest in an off-beat rhythm. His legs were leaden long before he got to the large, dark, blocky air-conditioning unit only a dozen feet from the door. He pulled himself around to its back side, away from the stairwell, and slid down to the ground, trying to catch his breath and take in the rooftop all at once.
Several other air-conditioning units stood at odd intervals around the rooftop, ducts and pipes sinking into the roof and steamy vapor rising into the churning mass of purple and grey above the roof. The rain poured down, pooling beneath the gravel on the roof, and running in icy rivulets down his neck and along his spine. The sparse noises of traffic rose up from the streets far below.
Just on the other side of the roof, a ladder clung to the edge of the building, scrapping metallically against the brick siding in the sharp wind. It dipped down between two buildings; if he got to it he could climb into the alley below and escape his pursuers on the ground of the city.
He stood up, and was just about to leave his spot behind the air-conditioning unit when three figures appeared out of the stairwell.
The first one on the left was tall and pale, his circular glasses flashing blue in the odd light of the night. His head was completely bald, and he had a neatly-cropped black beard around his mouth. A haughty smirk seemed perpetually on his face, and he stood there, his white lab coat blowing in the wind, as though he owned the place. He probably did.
The second one, standing on the right, was clean-shaven and short – he seemed shorter due to his stoutness, and shorter still because of his hunched-over manner. He held his arms away from his body like a bear might, if a bear were dressed in a back sweater and heavy brown cargo pants. A dark grey visor obscured his eyes, which itself was obscured by his shaggy, wildly-blown brown hair. He wore a pair of bulky-looking metal boots with chromed struts. His visored gaze swept the rooftop from side to side, like an animal on the scent of his prey.
The third man stood behind the other two, like a large, ominous shadow. His charcoal Armani suit matched his dark skin; he looked as though he’d been carved from a single block of obsidian. His head, too, was completely bald, and his rock-like jaw was clean-shaven. A pair of black sunglasses completed his visage, streaks of purple lightning reflecting back periodically. His thick arms were held loosely at his side, and he clutched his hands at his waist, looking as though he had just entered a negotiations meeting with a rival company.
#2 Feedback ^^;
But 'footfalls.' I love that. I didn't even know that was a word. It's lovely. A very nice choice! I'm going to have to use that word some time myself, now that I know it even exists. ;)
He staggered across the rooftop, clutching a hand over his cramped side, his hooded sweatshirt heavy with rain, and the gravel crunched wetly under his footfalls.
Perhaps show us more. "He staggered across the rooftop, clutching a hand over his side, and wincing at the sharp pain that shot along his ribs." And what about the hooded sweatshirt? It's heavy with rain? Make us FEEL it is. Show us! Compare the weight to something... The weight of it is like what? Give us a fresh, new comparison.
Being concise is important, but so is showing over telling. ;) Always remember that nobody can look into your head and see the movie play out as you do; you really do need to put it down as concrete and simple as possible to push the same movie in their heads as in yours (and don't worry, I can have a lot of trouble with this too.)
The sapphire teardrop pendant around his neck bounced off his chest in an off-beat rhythm.
With the concise thing in mind again, I took out "he wore" because why put it in? You can remove it and still have the same exact image in the reader's mind. It'd be redundant like 'stubbly goatee.' They are subtle differences, but think of it in this way: saying "His shirt" over "the shirt that he wore."
The 'off-beat rhythm' thing also bothers me. It's telling us instead of showing us. Also the fact that's it's bouncing. If the man is staggering, exactly how much can the pendant really 'bounce'? If he were running, I might believe it. But staggering? No.
His legs were leaden long before he got to the large, dark, blocky air-conditioning unit only a dozen feet from the door.
Leaden... long? Alliteration is like rhyme in poetry.. if you can write it and use it; that's excellent... but if you FORCE it, it sounds terrible. Wait.. maybe you mean were tired long before he got there.. okay. We need to come up with some way to prevent readers to get mixed up... we need some clarity. You could simply reverse it, or just rewrite it.. I'm not sure 'leaden' can work well... And I don't know if you need to tell us how far the thing is from the door unless this has some significance. Rewriting it, I'd say:
"Long before he got to the large, blocky air-conditioning hidden in shadows, his legs had become heavier with each step; he could no longer lift them, only shuffle along the ground."
The next sentence I think could be more effective if you use stronger verbs and connect it more... You put:
He pulled himself around to its back side, away from the stairwell, and slid down to the ground, trying to catch his breath and take in the rooftop all at once.
I'd say:
"He pulled himself around to its back side as he slid down to the ground, out of sight of the stairwell and gasping to catch his breath."
'Trying to' weakens the verb. Make him gasp. Or wheeze. Cough. Choke. Word choice is very important, ESPECIALLY verbs. And is he trying to watch the rooftop all at the same time? I cut it out because I think he seems a bit more focused with taking care of himself and getting out of sight... Focus on him settling down, then have him look out.. I think it's simply too much to digest all at once.
I hope you've been finding my feedback useful... remember that if someone suggests something you feel is wrong, don't be afraid to stick to your guns. :) I'll critique more of it if you'd like, just let me know. ^_^;;
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I tried thinking of a way to show you his cramp without telling you it. I think your way might work. I also should do something more with the sweatshirt than say it was 'heavy with rain.'
True about the 'he wore' part -- unnecessary, and the sentence does sound a lot better without it. The off-beat bounce, though, is more a flaw in my describing his movement. Yes, he's staggering -- presumably, he's been running for some time -- but he's doing it quickly. He has at least three men running after him, he needs to move. It's more of a loping run, I suppose -- he's trying to run, but his body is failing on him. Hence the off-beat bounce.
Ha! What did you expect 'leaden long' was supposed to mean? No, it's 'long before,' which I suppose I should move to the beginning of the sentence. And maybe instead of his legs being leaden they should be brittle... He's not shuffling though -- that implies slow, and slow will get him killed.
Good point on the gasping, too. I'll use that. He is in a hurry, but I suppose he might sit and then examine the rooftop... He's looking for an escape, though, and the more time he wastes the less likely he'll get out. Maybe he won't slide to the ground...
Yes, very useful. And don't worry, I'm a stubborn bastard -- I'll stick to my guns plenty hard enough. And yes, please keep giving feedback. I'll be posting the next part of this soon enough.
Re:
Wetly may indeed be a word (and www.m-w.com does have it), but I still object to it being used. It just doesn't sound appropriate. Gravel crunches. It crunches whether or not its dry or wet. And to say it crunches 'wetly' just sounds silly. What difference does the crunching sound make whether it's wet or not?
Unless the chain/jewel has its own life force, I would think it's physically impossible for it to have its own beat, and for it to be out of sync with his movements (though I'm not a science major, so I'd have no clue, but even if you ran with something on, it would move steadily, not zig-zag or anything crazy.)
If he's not shuffling, but he's staggering and supposed to be running but his legs are failing... well then, uhm... I don't know if there's a good verb for that one. Stumbled? Stagger seems like a slow movement.. He can run with a limp - I'll believe that.. but stagger?
lol... beware my feedback. I'm terribly nit-pisky at words. It's not just in writing.. it's also when I talk to people. I also use it often when I write literary papers or think up topics for them.. I think it might be the training in poetry where every word better be worth a million bucks to be on the page and NEED to be there...