I've been following this story and have enjoyed it immensely so far. The
plot is nice and solid. Your character work is quite good, but you need to
work on your narrative. That part of your work is very weak. Here is some
C&C for you. I hope you will find it a help rather than a hindrance.
 
Don Granberry.






on 4/20/02 10:52 PM, Justin Steven Braveboy-Wagner at jbw@WPI.EDU wrote:

Additional Parts to 'Learning Curve' can be found at:
http://www.wpi.edu/~jbw





-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: LC7A.TXT

Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to
her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. A few others are
mine. The story below is for entertainment purposes only, and not to
be used commercially. ...Obviously.


"Learning Curve"
      Part VII

by:   J. Wagner   (Mako)    jbw@wpi.edu


12,000 BCE

Dusk.

The man heard the wolf's growl, and felt the tension of the animal
to strike, as from the assembly of spear holders another, smaller
framed, form stepped forward, in an ornate mask framed by massive
animal horns, in clothes decorated with strange and enigmatic symbols.
The shaman paused, as if to consider the proper course of action,
before deciding on shaking his staff vigorously. When that failed, he
started to chant in long, run on pseudo-words.

The object of his ire frowned. It sounded like there was actually a
female voice behind that mask, but the language was strange and
incomprehensible, and he could not be sure. Stepping forward, he held
his arms wide; lion skin cloak billowing behind him in the warm breeze
blowing down from the heart of the island. He was a traveler, and a
hunter, far from home. Large hands and great muscles tensed, however,
in case he was not greeted civilly. They, like so many others, would
not stand in the way of the hunt.

"I greet you, in the name of the All Mother," he put forward, in the
northern Zul'ylli dialect, the closest he knew that these people could
understand, "I am..."

"We were warned of you, traveler," the shaman's fist clenched tightly
on the old wooden staff, the many bird feathers imbedded in it shaking
softly from the motion, "This is no place for you."

"My prey is on this island. I will continue the hunt," he tipped his
head to the side, slightly, recounting the number of spear bearers,
and those armed with crude bows.

"You will leave here... or we will force you to leave," the shaman
said, firmly.

The other man's frown deepened into a well-worn scowl, heavy jaw
settling into its seemingly natural position. He was never one for
much negotiation, nor did he care much for those foolish enough to
oppose the hunt. Years before, maybe, there would have been
hesitation, but there was none now. His lips slowly parted, and he
spoke a single word.

No sooner had the word left his mouth, than a great gray wolf, two
hundred pounds of teeth and muscle, leapt forward, covering the
distance in a heartbeat. Before the shaman could bring up any sort of
defense, his throat was in the animal's jaws, his back was on the
ground, and he tasted only blood. The spear wielders turned to the
animal, but only until the first two screamed and fell apart at the
waist, cleaved almost cleanly in half.

 
[The action in this paragraph is not too terribly clear. Who tasted blood?
It cannot be the wolf, because we find out later that the wolf is female. We
also find out that the Shaman is female.  This appears to be a very
confusing shift in POV, but could be nothing more than the injudicious use
of pronouns lacking proper antecedents. In either case, the action is
muddled, forcing the reader to read and re-read the paragraph and even then
the reader is left scratching his head in puzzlement. The wolf comes out as
a surprise to both the reader and the Shaman's party. That is not such a
great sin. It works nicely, but the following shift in POV or pronoun
problem weakens the action.]

The lion cloaked man spun after landing from his jump, a three-foot
long obsidian stone blade in one hand, and the broken neck of another
spearman in his left. Arrows flew, at point blank range, from those
few that kept their wits about them, only to be swatted out of the air
by the dead spearman's corpse, swing like a club against a small swarm
of insects, striking each out of the air without failure or miss.
Readying the next set of bone arrows, however, averted the tribesmen's
attention from another danger.

 
[I would delete "stone" from the phrase "three foot long stone obsidian
blade." Obsidian is not, strictly speaking, a stone. If you mean to let us
know that this is a neolithic culture, we can gather that from the date and
the fact that he is wielding an obsidian blade in lieu of bronze or iron.
Reducing the description by one word would make it read much better. I would
also consider re-ordering as follows: "an obsidian blade three feet long in
one hand..."
 
 NITPICK: Three feet is a bit of a stretch for an obsidian weapon. All such
weapons found to date have been made of wood with obsidian used to form the
cutting edge. Knives made of obsidian up to about six inches in length hold
up quite well, but become fragile in greater lengths.]

Snarling, the wolf set upon them, swatting one aside with its
haunches, before tearing the throat out of another. Its master,
meanwhile, continued his grim massacre, even after the warriors fled
in disarray. In the end, it looked like one would escape... until
something gray and fast ran him down amid a rocky rubble strewn
volcanic bed. Wiping the blood from his stone sword with the furred
hood of one of the slain, the traveler tied his weapon back onto its
place on his belt and left thigh. Features unchanged, he approached
the body of the shaman, and slowly removed the antlered mask.

[Make the above paragraph just a little longer and clarify the action. You
are trying to fit two pounds of story into a half-pound sack.]

Soft features, middle aged, greeted him - it had been a woman.

A foolish woman.

Checking the back of the neck, where the wolf's teeth had not done
much damage, he saw the small black etching in the skin, that of the
coiled serpent and the spear. Standing up, he looked out and over to
the mountain dominating the small island. There was a hint of ash in
the wind. He held out his left hand, and found the rough fur of his
tracker and his only true ally. Scratching behind her ears, the man's
face softened into a small smile.

 
[Again, too much story, not enough WRITING.]

"Soon," he assured her, and himself, "Soon, we shall have our prey."

 
[DO NOT RUN FROM THE WORD SAID! DO NOT RUN FROM IT. Avoiding the word "said"
leads to all kinds of grief, not the least of which is very poor control
over POV. Observe:
 
"Soon," he said to to the wolf, as much to assure himself as her. "Soon, we
shall have our prey."]
 

Walking purposefully through the mist shrouded beachhead, and deeper
inland, he felt the blood in his veins boil and surge. The power
within him was just now breaking the surface, and beginning to emerge.

 
[Delete the commas prior to the "ands" in the two sentences above.]

At his side, as always, Wolf wined, sensing her master's agitation.

 
[Use "whined" as opposed to "wined" in this context.]
 

Eyes narrow, jaw set, the man made his way up the rocky hillside, and
towards the summit of the volcano where his prey had finally settled
on making a last stand.

 
[The sentence above suffers from mixed tenses and a misplaced comma. Here is
one possible way to fix it:
 
"With eyes narrowed and jaw set, the man made his way up the rocky hillside
towards the summit of the volcano, where his prey had finally settled for a
last stand."
 
A better fix would be to re-word it and make two complete sentences of it.
You are dealing with two completely different ideas, each of which warrants
a sentence in its own right.]
 

It was old, now, infirm and weak, but still powerful. Still beyond
powerful. The hunt had begun, years ago, when the prey came through
the tiny village of Amaun, in the Land encircling the Sea. It had
raided, and it had pillaged, for food, for All Mother idols, and most
importantly, for slaves. He had seen it then, fat and spoiled by
centuries of devoted slavery. He had felt it in his mind, and he alone
had thrown off the shackles of the prey.

His sword sharpened on the bodies of his own people, he began the
hunt.

[Starting with "It was old..." through "...he began to hunt." needs to be
reworded from scratch. Way, way too much story jammed in far too little
space. There is enough tale here for two paragraphs running to about six
sentences each. 
 
Watch how you use your pronouns and make certain they have antecedents. I
first took "It was old..." to be addressing the wolf. Something like: "His
prey was old now and much weaker than it had been in the past, but still
powerful." Would work much better than: "It was old, now, infirm and weak,
but...] 
 

It had taken him to the far north, where the snow never melted, and
where the Ice was as Water.

 
[What took him to the far-north? The prey or his hunt for the prey? I assume
it was his hunt that lead him into the cold reaches of Hypoborea, so replace
it with  "His pursuit of it had" or "The hunt had taken..." or something
similar. It lacks an antecedent and thereby causes the reader confusion as
well as hurting the pace of your story.]
 

It had taken him south, where the earth
was not but burning sand. It had taken him over the Deep Water. And,
now, when he sensed that it was ending, either in his death or in his
triumph, a feeling of unease and listlessness came over him.
Regardless of outcome, this was the end... the culmination of his
life.

 
[If you fix the antecedent problem in the paragraph preceding the one above,
starting the above paragraph with the pronoun "it," is not much of a
problem, but I think it would help the mood of this section considerably if
you were to replace the pronoun "it" with something else, such as "Then the
hunt led him southwards, into the burning sands..."]

Pausing, he checked the scent and the trail, and confirmed what his
Wolf was already indicating. Moving off the hillside, and around, he
entered a dark cave.

 
[I suggest replacing "trail" with "tracks" or "spoor." It is too easy to
confuse the reader's inner vision with something like a path than a trail of
tracks left by someone or something. Also, spend a few more words making the
action clearer. It will help the pace of the story rather than detract from
it.]
 

Indecision quickly gave way to focus, in the
hunt, and in survival.

 
[What indecision? When did he start having that problem? You did not tell us
about it. Try something like: He paused only briefly. Indecision..."]

The prey was smart, and no doubt leading him to
a place of its choosing. The cave was indeed dark, but the hunter's
eyes adjusted quickly, and his other senses were more than powerful
enough to compensate. Sweeping his large lion skin cloak off to the
side, he advanced through the maze of high cavern walls and jagged
crevasses. He was so close now, closer than he'd been in years; the
taste in his mouth was almost identifiable.

 
[Hmm, fear most often tastes like brass. Granted, this bloke would know
nothing of brass, but your readers do. I would go ahead  and use "the brassy
taste of fear..." and be done with it. This helps the reader identify with
this rather too grim and ruthless hunter. Remember, your audience just
witnessed him kill a sizeable group of people with only a modicum of
provocation. They need something to help them identify with this cat. Right
now, he is entirely too cold and calculating.
 
On another note, crevasses are deep cracks in the ground and our hunter does
not appear to be carrying a source of light.]
 

Wolf started to snarl, as she led him into a vast chamber, the ceiling
invisible in the darkness. High above, as it started to slant inwards,
strange runes, the size of men, perhaps painted, or imbedded, in the
rock began to glow.

 
[Very clumsy sentence here. I suggest re-wording it altogether.]
 

It was warm, too - musky, like a tepid swamp, or
some reptile's lair. The hunter snorted at the smell. It was foul, and
possessed of an alien quality unable to accurately describe. Below, at
his feet, and all around him, the world started to shimmer, and it
took a moment for the hunter to realize what it was.

The cavern was full of springs...

 
["Crom!" he cried out at what he saw before him. "It's full of springs!"]

***

 
This is all I have time for at the moment. I'll do some more C&C tomorrow.
 
Don.

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