wolfwriter089
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Post by wolfwriter089 on Apr 4, 2021 14:53:11 GMT -6
Title: "The Old Hallowed Ground" Genre: Alternate History Fiction Description: This is the opening to an alternate history story - which will eventually lead into a series - where the recruitment campaign by the Greater London Council in 1965 to make the London Fire Brigade more diverse by allowing women the ground-breaking opportunity to apply for operational roles as firefighters in the brigade is much more successful than it was in reality * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Southwark, London, 8 July 1965. The time had come. Elsbeth’s footsteps resounded on the cobbles as she passed under the famous – or infamous if you preferred – arch, which was said to divide the world into two distinct entities. Outside, it was a blossoming metropolis, with people moving to and fro in their patterns; get out of bed, have breakfast, go to work, come home, have dinner, go to bed and so it would continue on. Once you passed underneath the archway however, your world became nothing but the walls, classrooms, parade ground and dormitories of Southwark Training Centre. |
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Post by RAVENEYE on Apr 4, 2021 15:22:56 GMT -6
Aw, man. This is only 91 words of content and not much to bite into yet. Is there another hundred words you could tack on? So far the narration is clear and flows well. I would get rid of the "to and fro" bit. There's not a hook in this excerpt, though it ought to show up in the following 100 words.
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wolfwriter089
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Post by wolfwriter089 on Apr 4, 2021 15:56:35 GMT -6
Aw, man. This is only 91 words of content and not much to bite into yet. Is there another hundred words you could tack on? So far the narration is clear and flows well. I would get rid of the "to and fro" bit. There's not a hook in this excerpt, though it ought to show up in the following 100 words. Thank you kindly Raveneye  I will revise and tack on the other words and then re-post. |
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farida
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Post by farida on Apr 12, 2021 12:05:20 GMT -6
Southwark, London, 8 July 1965. The time had come. Elsbeth’s footsteps resounded on the cobbles as she passed under the famous – or infamous if you preferred – arch [which arch???], which was said to divide the world into two distinct entities. Outside, it was a blossoming metropolis , with people moving to and fro in their patterns; get out of bed, have breakfast, go to work, come home, have dinner, go to bed and so it would continue on.
Once you passed underneath the archway however, your world became nothing but the walls, classrooms, parade ground and dormitories of Southwark Training Centre. Love your idea!!!!
The first sentence is a bit cliche. The time had come for what? Can you give us more of a hint?
Hey, I'm a dedicated (ex) Londoner, so I have a few quibbles. London in 1965 was anything but blossoming. It was a stinking, tarry, deprived pit. Especially Southwark, which hadn't yet gentrified. It looked like this:
Also, I know Southwark fairly well and I know roughly where the fire station is. There are no cobbles there today. Not sure what it was like in 1965, but I'm sure any cobblestones would've been tarmaced over as teh car was ubiquitous in London even then.
All in all, I feel like we need more here. Smells, sounds, feelings. What's Elspeth thinking? Move away from cliche and into her own head. Again, it's a great idea so expose us to more of it more quickly.
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wolfwriter089
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Post by wolfwriter089 on Apr 13, 2021 3:54:11 GMT -6
Southwark, London, 8 July 1965. The time had come. Elsbeth’s footsteps resounded on the cobbles as she passed under the famous – or infamous if you preferred – arch [which arch???], which was said to divide the world into two distinct entities. Outside, it was a blossoming metropolis , with people moving to and fro in their patterns; get out of bed, have breakfast, go to work, come home, have dinner, go to bed and so it would continue on.
Once you passed underneath the archway however, your world became nothing but the walls, classrooms, parade ground and dormitories of Southwark Training Centre. Love your idea!!!! The first sentence is a bit cliche. The time had come for what? Can you give us more of a hint?
Hey, I'm a dedicated (ex) Londoner, so I have a few quibbles. London in 1965 was anything but blossoming. It was a stinking, tarry, deprived pit. Especially Southwark, which hadn't yet gentrified. It looked like this:
Also, I know Southwark fairly well and I know roughly where the fire station is. There are no cobbles there today. Not sure what it was like in 1965, but I'm sure any cobblestones would've been tarmaced over as teh car was ubiquitous in London even then.
All in all, I feel like we need more here. Smells, sounds, feelings. What's Elspeth thinking? Move away from cliche and into her own head. Again, it's a great idea so expose us to more of it more quickly.
Thank you so much for your feedback and recollections of London and Southwark in particular Farida - I really appreciate it |
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Post by RAVENEYE on Apr 13, 2021 11:07:24 GMT -6
Wasn't there a great deal of economic trouble in England in the 60s?
Anyway. A conflicted setting + conflicted characters = even cooler story. I hope you run with this, Wolf.
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Post by HDSimplicityy on Apr 14, 2021 21:19:20 GMT -6
I like your premise. Narration flows smooth here. The first line is cliche, so I'm glad you deleted that sucker. Add some atmosphere with the two paces of life you have in mind. Feelings, emotions, up close perspective after opening the story up. Using third person for a broad omniscent (?) perspective, you narrow it down to Elsabeth's.
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wolfwriter089
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Post by wolfwriter089 on Apr 19, 2021 4:16:51 GMT -6
Here is my first edit - I hope it is much more descriptive now ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Southwark, South London, 8 June 1965. It was a cold, wet day, which was an oddity for June. The weather had changed overnight, when a cold front assaulted the city from all sides, remnant of the Blitz. Mizzling rain drummed out a pattern on the roofs of grimy, crumbling tenements, silent sentinels flanking both sides of the street. Through the downpour came a lone figure, trying to beat the worst of the weather to her final destination. Her amber-golden eyes glanced at the inhabitable environment, as she pulled the collar of the greatcoat up further to cover her bare neck and again adjusted her woollen gloves. Ahead of her, a trio of red doors belonging to a fire station appeared through the drizzle, a beacon. At last Elsbeth had arrived. Approaching the infamous arch with “Drive Dead Slow” emblazoned in black across it, she stopped and looked at her new home for the next sixteen weeks. You can’t quit now; not after all the hoops you jumped through just to get here. You can do this. You are strong. Show them that the Brenton women who came before you were all worthy of the title of firewoman.
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Post by RAVENEYE on Apr 19, 2021 8:01:02 GMT -6
Ok, yes! Getting a much stronger feeling for what this story is about, and who! The conflict that will be central to this woman's part in the story provides a great hook. It's also timely and relatable. I don't have a lot to complain about, but I'll cross out a little excess that seemed to dampen the narration for me. Here is my first edit - I hope it is much more descriptive now  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Southwark, South London, 8 June 1965. It was a cold, wet day, which was an oddity for June. The weather had changed overnight, when a cold front assaulted the city from all sides, remnant of the Blitz (reads as if the cold front is the remnants of the Blitz; restructure? elaborate?). Mizzling rain drummed out a pattern on the roofs of grimy, crumbling tenements, silent sentinels flanking both sides of the street. (highlighted repeated words, suggest revising one or the other)Through the downpour came a lone figure, trying to beat the worst of the weather to her final destination. Her amber-golden eyes glanced at the inhabitable environment (develop this aspect of setting with a couple of specific details, nothing prolonged), as She pulled the collar of the greatcoat up further to cover her bare neck and again adjusted her woollen gloves. Ahead of her, a trio of three red doors belonging to a fire station appeared through the drizzle, a beacon. At last Elsbeth had arrived. Approaching the infamous arch with “Drive Dead Slow” emblazoned in black across it, she stopped and looked at her new home for the next sixteen weeks. You can’t quit now; not after all the hoops you jumped through just to get here. You can do this. You are strong. Show them that the Brenton women who came before you were all worthy of the title of firewoman.
All in all, an engaging opening. I'm eager to see how Elsbeth survives and struggles in this difficult journey and how she carves her niche. I'd keep reading, for sure. |
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wolfwriter089
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Post by wolfwriter089 on Apr 19, 2021 23:06:00 GMT -6
Ok, yes! Getting a much stronger feeling for what this story is about, and who! The conflict that will be central to this woman's part in the story provides a great hook. It's also timely and relatable. I don't have a lot to complain about, but I'll cross out a little excess that seemed to dampen the narration for me. Here is my first edit - I hope it is much more descriptive now ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Southwark, South London, 8 June 1965. It was a cold, wet day, which was an oddity for June. The weather had changed overnight, when a cold front assaulted the city from all sides, remnant of the Blitz (reads as if the cold front is the remnants of the Blitz; restructure? elaborate?). Mizzling rain drummed out a pattern on the roofs of grimy, crumbling tenements, silent sentinels flanking both sides of the street. (highlighted repeated words, suggest revising one or the other)Through the downpour came a lone figure, trying to beat the worst of the weather to her final destination. Her amber-golden eyes glanced at the inhabitable environment (develop this aspect of setting with a couple of specific details, nothing prolonged), as She pulled the collar of the greatcoat up further to cover her bare neck and again adjusted her woollen gloves. Ahead of her, a trio of three red doors belonging to a fire station appeared through the drizzle, a beacon. At last Elsbeth had arrived. Approaching the infamous arch with “Drive Dead Slow” emblazoned in black across it, she stopped and looked at her new home for the next sixteen weeks. You can’t quit now; not after all the hoops you jumped through just to get here. You can do this. You are strong. Show them that the Brenton women who came before you were all worthy of the title of firewoman.
All in all, an engaging opening. I'm eager to see how Elsbeth survives and struggles in this difficult journey and how she carves her niche. I'd keep reading, for sure. Thank you so much Raveneye - I really appreciate your feedback |
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Post by pelwrath on Jun 27, 2021 8:20:33 GMT -6
Southwark,
South London,
8 June 1965.
It was a cold, wet day, which was an oddity for June. The weather had changed overnight, when a cold front assaulted the city from all sides, remnant of the Blitz, lightning instead of nazi bombs raining on the city. MizzlingI like new words but is itneeded to explain rain? I suggest that you start with: the rain. rain drummed out a pattern on the roofs of grimy, crumbling tenements, silent sentinels flanking both sides of the street.
Through the downpour came a lone figure, trying to beat the worst of the weather to her final destination. Her amber-golden eyes glanced at the inhabitable environment, as she pulled the collar of the greatcoat up further to cover her bare neck and again adjusted her woollen gloves.Move this to after 'destination'. if to me fits better there.
Ahead of her, a trio of red doors belonging to a fire station appeared through the drizzle, a beacon. At last Elsbeth had arrived. Approaching the infamous arch with “Drive Dead Slow” emblazoned in black across it, she stopped and looked at her new home for the next sixteen weeks. Question,is DRIVE DEAD SLOW above the doors or one wordover each door?
You can’t quit now; not after all the hoops you jumped through just to get here. You can do this. You are strong. Show them that the Brenton women who came before you were all worthy of the title of firewoman.
History, I love it and alternate history. Majored in it at college and taught if for a few years. Can'tsay that British history is a specialty. I know from how I write, you've a little too much tell here. I like tell,though others arn't in my camp.For me it's balancing the when to tell. it's nicetosee youdon't have a fear of expository writing, nice descriptions. Some wording issues but I didn't notice any SP&G jumping at me.
What I'dlike to see is the story start with Start with Elsbeth. Maybe start with the second paragraph and add only thelast half of the first after it. Not that london isn't inetersting but she's the MC-I want to see the weather through her eyes, her thoughts. Does she curse the weather or is it no big deal. You really don't need the part about the WW2 London Blitz.
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