Do you know what a leitmotif is?

[Klaus]

Quick suggestion: switch "my ex-girlfriend" and "Chelsea" around. The first sentence gets less clunky, and you have a breather to explain who Chelsea is.

 

[Mark]

(. . .) consciously authorial (. . .)

A tricky mode that often feels clumsy. Even Raymond Chandler, who was a master, had to employ the device of his antagonist being a tough guy, and thus less introspective than most people would normally be (harder to pull off in a contemporary piece given how in touch everyone prfesses to be). You might be on the right track in using present tense as it gives you some leeway toward engendering surprises. Good luck.

Quick suggestion: switch "my ex-girlfriend" and "Chelsea" around. The first sentence gets less clunky, and you have a breather to explain who Chelsea is.

That might help though a full rewrite of the opening sentences might be better yet.

 

[john112364]

When is the rest coming out? I'm still trying to figure this out. And the leitmotif wasn't really that big a deal. It's not like I said "Hey! I don't recognise this word! Stupid book. I'm not going to read this crap!" I kept on reading. If the word matters than I'll look it up later. But it in no way prevented me from enjoying the rest of the excerpt. I was really getting into it. Did I understand everything that was going on? No, but I was getting more and more of the picture as you went on. I'm no literary critic, but I am a reader of Fantasy & SciFi, and as a reader I wanted to read more. You're doing fine. Don't overthink it dude.

 

[Wild Gazebo]

"Leitmotif" is terribly off register in the example you gave.

As well, don't inform the audience about character's history, motivation, or situation: Let the character's actions, words, and silence tell the story (show don't tell).

Don't be afraid of cultural reference in a modern story: go ahead and list the actual program that is playing.

I suggest you read some Raymond Carver: not to copy, mimic, or aspire toward; but, simply to observe how a minimalist approach to writing can tighten emotion, meaning, and clarity.

Good luck!!

 

[Desdichado]

Wickett a word of advice: don't pay much attention to all this armchair criticism you've got here.

This is the first sentence. Any talk of what it does or doesn't do is pretty meaningless without context.

 

[Desdichado]

I said expose. Bullgrit extrapolated a personal connotative interpretation of what I actually wrote, based upon what he thought I was implying. Which is fine, everyone does that on occasion. God knows I have. But then you also made an assumption about what I was actually saying based upon a faulty interpolation of what I actually said. You accepted his interpretation of my intent, as a third party, versus my intent. (I've done that too. I try to avoid it but I've certainly done it.) So let me clarify my actual meaning.

*blink, blink*

Actually, I made absolutely no assumptions whatsoever. In fact, I wasn't even responding to you at all; I was responding to Bullgrit.

 

[Sir Brennen]

RW,

You asked for a little Simon, so I hope you take this in the spirit of anonymous internet criticism in which it is given.

A few thoughts I had reading the longer excerpt:

First, the great first sentence debate. You gave a very lengthy explanation in a previous post about how the literal leitmotif for the character of Capt. Jonathan Bluff is also literally the leitmotif of Jaime, the narrator. But it isn't. Does the music blare out every time he enters a meeting at work? Or gets mad after opening the cable bill? No. It's still just the theme music for his character. However, the narrator might *feel* like it's literally his (Jaime's) leitmotif, which is different than it actually being, (Saying it's "his" in the sense that it's his character's and the character and its associations belong to him is splitting hairs.) It still exists in the realm of the poetic, and therefore conflicts with the overtly factual, removed tone of "my ex-girlfriend" in the latter half of the sentence.

I might have done something like: "Captain Bluff's leitmotif - my leitmotif, as it drags me onto the stage of consciousness - wails out of Chelsea's TV. She always watches this sh*t in surround sound". I will say, the lack of poetry in the second sentence is an *effective* use of tonal contrast to underscore the character's feelings.

As for the "ex-girlfriend" part, that information can wait, even if it's just a couple of pages later. Maybe a moment when he's looking in the bathroom mirror and wonders why he's sleeping over at his ex-girlfriend's the night before her wedding, giving us more info on his state of mind. You're writing a novel. You can take your time in doling out info to the reader. As one of my writing instructors once said, you have to allow yourself "a sense of play" when writing, especially with a longer work. You do provide other small details without being to authorial to let us know what's going on: mentioning the rehearsal, the fiancé. All spread out a bit and letting the reader piece it together from a more "natural" train of narrator thought.

Second, do you realize how much of that section you gave us is devoted to what's going on in an animated show the characters are watching rather than what's going on with the characters themselves? A lot. A whole lot. Made me want to put on my "Don't tell me about your character!" T-shirt. Plus, there's a tone issue: first the narrator calls what's on the TV "sh*t", then goes on to describe everything in exacting detail. He's obviously somewhat uninterested, then even uncomfortable watching it. Why is he then so invested in explaining, even "in his head", what's going on to the reader? He's not. It's you, the author, that wants to describe everything going on in the show. Is it really relevant? We only need Jaime to give us his synopsis of each scene, preferably colored by his current state of mind. And more importantly, keep giving us information about how he and Chelsea are reacting to what's happening.

Also somewhat distracting was Jaime describing the action on the screen in the first person. Yes, I know when people talk about what their characters have done in a game, they often use "I", but sometimes the natural way of speaking can make for lousy story-telling on paper. There's added awkwardness with phrases like "the real me", "back on screen", etc. since he's also describing what's going on in the living room. He's watching a show recreating the exploits of a character he plays, not himself. In fact, since the machinima is created by someone else, narrative control is no longer his. It's perfectly fine (and less confusing) for Jaime to refer to Captain Bluff as "him" while passively watching. (I realize that perhaps you might be planning on playing with issues of separation of identity - is the character you create and play "you"? If you are going down that road, saving Jaime's reference to Bluff as "I" for when that separation starts to blur might be more effective.)

If the exact events of the machinima are important to the story, you might reconsider the method in which this additional narrative is conveyed. Having Jaime watch and simply tell us what's going on in each episode would get quite tedious. Perhaps giving each chapter a prologue consisting of the only Fleet action Jaime described, but done in third person, or first person, where the "I" is actually Captain Bluff. Imagine starting that first chapter off that way, telling us all the action in the Fleet story first, *then* revealing that it's all some sort of video piece based on a game he plays. Also, opportunities for juxtaposition of events for effect open themselves up.

Lastly, tied to the second point, I don't have much of a sense of place. Take time to give us more detail about the real world, too. For example, "I’ve carved out a nice warm patch on the living room floor". Nice word choice. But since he didn't literally carve a spot out of the floor itself, I'm getting the impression that there's enough stuff on the floor that he had to make a space to sleep. Is Chelsea a slob? Is it the remnants of a party, or the sleeping bags and blankets of other house guests? Where they up all night drinking together? The details can be informative about the characters or situation, or throw-away. Just let us look around a bit. Slow down. Have a sense of play. The other bits of real-world character description you do have are actually pretty solid. I just wish there was more of it.

 

[Wild Gazebo]

I just want to mention that by no means did I wish to disparage you as a writer.

I sometimes assume everbody has had very similar experiences: A very poor assumtion to make. So, that being said, great work!

I hope you are haveing fun, and success, with your writing.

 

[RangerWickett]

RW,

You asked for a little Simon, so I hope you take this in the spirit of anonymous internet criticism in which it is given.

Hehe. Will do. Thank you for the advice.

First, the great first sentence debate. You gave a very lengthy explanation in a previous post about how the literal leitmotif for the character of Capt. Jonathan Bluff is also literally the leitmotif of Jaime, the narrator. But it isn't. Does the music blare out every time he enters a meeting at work? Or gets mad after opening the cable bill? No. It's still just the theme music for his character. However, the narrator might *feel* like it's literally his (Jaime's) leitmotif, which is different than it actually being, (Saying it's "his" in the sense that it's his character's and the character and its associations belong to him is splitting hairs.) It still exists in the realm of the poetic, and therefore conflicts with the overtly factual, removed tone of "my ex-girlfriend" in the latter half of the sentence.

At the risk of sounding defensive, I acknowledge the critique but have decided it's best to keep it as is. The narrator sees his character as basically another facet of himself.

What I reveal over the rest of the first chapter is that he has quit playing this game because he thinks time traveling Nazis are cheesy. (It's a cross-over event between two games published by the same studio.) The real-world plot involves him going to a politically unstable nation to rescue a friend in trouble, and he receives help from a local woman who plays the World War II Ages game. During this, one of the personal issues Jaime deals is that he regrets his decision to quit. He feels like he's left something unfinished.

The desire to accomplish his in-game goals becomes a key motivation that influences his real-world actions. And since his guide still plays the game (and because he's attracted to her), he gets drawn back into playing. The events of the in-game fantastical adventure alternately drive and are a reflection of the out-of-game journey Jaime's on.

So I want the opening line to have both a bit of a poetry, and a bit of crassness. (Though in this case, 'this sh*t' is used not as an insult, but just a generic term for 'stuff.')

As for the "ex-girlfriend" part, that information can wait, even if it's just a couple of pages later.

Agreed.

Second, do you realize how much of that section you gave us is devoted to what's going on in an animated show the characters are watching rather than what's going on with the characters themselves? ... We only need Jaime to give us his synopsis of each scene, preferably colored by his current state of mind.

The in-game action is integral to the plot and to Jaime's identity as a character. However, if you were reading the opening as 'an animated show the characters are watching,' I obviously wasn't doing my job as well as I'd hoped. I want you to read it as an action scene that establishes one of the main conflicts in the novel, and acts as the motivating moment that starts Jaime's personal story.

I dunno, maybe I should have included the rest of the first chapter, which has the movement from in-game to out-of-game events. Or maybe I spend too much time on the game, though you yourself did say I should enjoy a 'sense of play.'

If the exact events of the machinima are important to the story, you might reconsider the method in which this additional narrative is conveyed. Having Jaime watch and simply tell us what's going on in each episode would get quite tedious.

It ends up being a mix. Sometimes he's watching events, but narrating it as his personal history, because as far as he's concerned these events did happen to him. (Clarification: He's not crazy or anything; he's clearly aware it's a game, but it's a game he spends a lot of time playing.) Sometimes he's playing in the present. Occasionally he watches video starring other characters. I'm a little worried that you use the word 'tedious' to describe what in my mind were supposed to be fun action scenes.

Lastly, tied to the second point, I don't have much of a sense of place. Take time to give us more detail about the real world, too.

Fair enough. Some of that comes later in the first chapter. It's always a challenge to figure out what gets priority at the start of a story.

Again, thank you for the critique. It's helpful, not just to find stuff that needs fixing, but to give me an opportunity to reconsider what I wrote so I can figure out what was a conscious choice, and what parts I wrote without giving them much thought.

 

[Sir Brennen]

I'm a little worried that you use the word 'tedious' to describe what in my mind were supposed to be fun action scenes.

Oh, I wasn't referring to the scenes themselves as "tedious". They're fine and you're obviously enjoying writing them.

I was referring to the *method* of delivering the in-game scenes, if they were going to be similar to what was done in the sample you gave - having him passively watch the episodes intercutting with full blown descriptive game action and static real-world reactions. Even if he's actually playing the game at times, it's still someone sitting there, telling us what's going on in a game he's playing. As mentioned before, show, don't tell. Action before dialogue, dialogue before thought.

I also don't know if I'd want to have the equivalent experience of having a Tom Clancy novel open next to a John Carter on Mars book on the table, reading a few paragraphs in one then switching to the other for a few paragraphs, then back again. Not for more than a few pages anyway.

That's why I think keeping the two a bit more separate might be more effective. Give us the description of a particular scene of in-game action as a whole. It can be in first person, that's fine. Since we already know what happened in the video or session Jaime's playing, we only need his comments about it - and it's relevance to the rest of the real world plot - not the description. So you can focus on where you're at in the present moment. "When Margaret shows up on the screen, Chelsea giggles." Only the reference is needed, because we already know what happened.

I think this approach would not only strengthen your real-world narrative, but the in-game one, too, as it would feel more real without phrases like "as the camera moves" and "the digital breeze" reminding us that it isn't.