Well, since I couldn’t get this refunded (believe me, I had tried) I was going to review you in turn. However, now you’re MIA from Urbis. Go figure. Did someone finally report you?
I’m furious that you presumed to COMPARE me to other authors when reviewing me. You don’t do that when critiquing, sir. Why? Because one reader’s favorite style of writing collects dust on another reader’s bookshelf. Style is subjective! It’s like someone liking purple shoes when you like red of the same shoe. It doesn’t make the purple shoes any less than the red. You can’t force criteria like that on another writer.
I’m pissed that you screwed up my ranking based on this quirk of yours, and then you missed the point of the entire story without reading 100%! This isn’t some action-packed Daddy/son bonding fic! Why would I expand on the Dad, the “home” and whatnot when the plot has NOTHING to do with them? It has everything to do with magic and can this boy’s soul really travel to another world. THAT was the PLOT; the father and the rest came secondary.
And don’t bitch about the pace when you’ve only read 50%. What kind of crap is that? I think you expected me to write in the style you wanted, or like you. I’ve looked at your writing when it was up, and no, no, no, trust me, not going to happen.
Not only was your style completely passive voice, but it featured a distant POV reminiscent of Victorian novels. Do not want. Ever.
My only regret is that I didn’t review you; it would have been a taste of your own medicine.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / Myseborn (Analysis)
Myseborn
It was the bird that woke him.
An annoying bird. One that sounded like a blue jay pretending to be a songbird and not fooling anyone. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut tight and yanked the covers over his head. The best defense against tweeting invaders. Morning wasn’t here yet; the dream of something bright still clung to his mind. If he snuggled down and didn’t move, maybe he could–-
From his closet, the bird squawked. He bolted upright and his dream fled. Gone for good now.
Through the window, moonlight shone in a hazy tic-tac-toe on his bedspread, the one that Gran-nana had given him last Christmas. Whenever he rustled the blanket, it smelled like sugar cookies. The revolving lamp by his bedside softened the darkness with spinning blue moons and stars. He listened. Silence.
Nathan stared in the direction of his closet; the moonlight and lamp didn’t shine over there. The closet door beckoned with a half-open smile, taunting with shadows, a hint of movement. He leaned his head forward, squinting. Maybe it was the wind. Mother always blamed the wind for everything: the whistling at his window, the scratching at the side of the house. “Just the wind, Nathan” she would say and shake her head at him like he was a dope. He felt like a big dope now, clenching his Gran-nana’s blanket, his heart racing in his chest—
Something grunted by his bedside.
He’d almost screamed. Almost. Good thing he hadn’t. Daddy slouched in the rocking chair next to his bed, his mouth agape and his hair a mess. The book Daddy had been reading to him, “Conquering Night Terrors”, had fallen to the floor face-first, all its middle pages a folded mess. Daddy had made him listen as he read all about sleep stages. Big yawner. At least Dr. Eld had brought him a seven-hundred and fifty piece puzzle to put together. It had taken him two visits to finish, and even though it was an ugly picture, he didn’t care. He just loved making the pieces fit.
In agreement to his thoughts, Daddy began snoring. That chair was okay for sitting and rocking, but he didn’t think Daddy was too comfy sleeping in it: not with his shoulder bent like that and chin on his chest. Maybe he should wake Daddy so he could go back to Mother’s bed. Then Nathan remembered them yelling at each other that afternoon over the price of “that damn shrink” and changed his mind.
The bird twittered from the closet. Daddy didn’t stir. Nathan stared at that corner of the room. The bird warbled a raspy Kree Kree sound that made all the hairs rise on his arms. A scent wafted in the air; it smelled like wet grass and roses. Gran-nana had loved roses; like the red ones they’d draped over her grave after they’d lowered her coffin into the big hole. It had been the first time he’d ever seen Daddy cry. Mother hadn’t cried; she had just stood there with her lips pressed together and looked mad.
Nathan looked at his clock. The time read: 2:37AM. There was a funny taste in his mouth, like nuts and blueberries. Maybe he was dreaming; maybe he was in the fourth stage of sleep like the boring book had said.
A breeze fluttered the mobiles hanging from his ceiling; Jupiter and Saturn spun in circles. The shadows in the closet brightened into sunset colors, gold tinged with red. More birds began twittering and chirping. Some were Kree Kree birds, but others sounded different. The scent of earth grew heavy.
He slipped from his bed and walked toward the door; his heart hammered, and he wrapped Gran-nana’s blanket tight around his shoulders. It was the best defense against strange closets: the best defense against weird glows and smells.
From the closet, petals of an unknown flower blew into his room, covering his carpet like big white snowflakes. He poked a few of them with his big toe, testing the smoothness. Yeppers, they were real. Grass grew in patches on his floor, thicker by the closet. There was a blue flower with ringlet petals by the edge of the doorframe. Panic tightened his chest and he stopped, the closet glow inches from his feet. It looked hot.
He looked back at Daddy. Nope, still sleeping. Couldn’t he hear the birds? Couldn’t he see the light?
The glow and the breeze compelled him to turn around. He did, but why did he? He should go back to bed; Daddy would worry if he woke up and found him gone. Whispering, distant humming. It sounded pretty. “Come,” the voices sang. One sounded like Gran-nana, he was certain of it. She was alive! With a trembling hand, he opened the door wide.
There was a pang of remembrance before the light took him, that he had done this before, many times.
Church bells rang in his ears, but higher, sweeter. Pressure surrounded him and made his ears pop. Something tugged, a wave of liquid hands propelled him forward. His heart shuddered. No air. Golden light spun around him, blinding at first, but then faded. He was falling now, falling–
He landed in cottonballs.
Grandnana’s quilt slid to the ground in a heap of violet and white squares. He gulped the humid air around him. The pressure was gone. He looked down. The grass had tips of fluffy puffballs the color of turquoise. He felt bad squashing it. Strange birds chirped in greeting, and somewhere behind him came the sound of bells. Where was he? He grasped the quilt and stood.
The closet door had disappeared, a swirling funnel of what could have been air or water replaced it. It spun with all colors of the rainbow, but the brightest was the blue inner ring. From these whirling circles came the sound he’d recognized as the chimes he’d heard. But something else caught his attention.
His bedroom lay beyond the rings. And he was still sleeping on his bed.
Nathan blinked. Then he blinked really hard. The figure on the bed remained. That Nathan had his mouth open, drooling on his pillow; his dark hair covered most of his face, curling over his ears and across his cheek. That Nathan looked peaceful. Much like the place he had landed in.
Flowers, like the ones that had bloomed on his carpet, dotted the landscape in mottled patches, along with tulip-looking plants he decided to call yoolups. Weeping willows rose from the sea of pastel yoolups like slouching giants in need of a good haircut.
The sky above couldn’t make up its mind whether to be day or night. Over the eastern horizon, the sun shone hazy and three moons hung like ghosts behind it, two big blue ones and one small and red. On the other side, set inside a twilight sky like shiny pearls, lay stars and a full white moon that was even larger than the eastern sun.
Where he stood, east and west strained against each other and from their war created a wide strip of sky that exploded with sunset colors.
The darker half fascinated him for some reason. The trees there had red leaves instead of green, and a swarm of white butterflies burst from one giant willow. They spun with the wind. He thought about the petals on his carpet. Maybe they were butterfly wings, not petals at all. A humming rose from the swarm, reedy voices that sounded like tiny fairies singing. It gave him a warm tingling sensation. He closed his eyes and listened. His body swayed.
“They bite you know,” said a voice in his ear.
Nathan yipped and spun around. Gran-nana’s quilt tangled itself around his legs and he lost his balance. The puffgrass softened his fall.
“Uh Oh! Natter’s down!” A shadow fell over him. A playful smile glinted in the forever waning sunlight.
“Daddy?”
“Of course, sillybutt.” Daddy had his hands on his hips. “Can’t let you run around Iithia all by yourself.”
Daddy’s blue eyes crinkled and he brushed what Mother called “those frump bangs” from his face. He still had on the clothes he had been wearing when he fell asleep: an old white dress shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned, and blue jeans that had dinner’s spaghetti stains on one thigh.
“EEtheea?” Nathan said in awe. “Is that what this place is called?”
Daddy gaped at him. “You forgot, again? Again? You know what? I’m sticking notes on your forehead from now on. Big, ugly, yellow ones.”
“No!” Nathan slapped his hands to his forehead and giggled.
“Yes. I’m afraid so. Because now we’re gonna waste time getting you up to speed when we have Roam Trees to catch. It’s their migration season, you know. Only comes every six years.” Daddy heaved a great sigh and hunkered down next to him. “So, do you want the long and boring? Or the short and simple?”
“Long and boring.”
Daddy nodded with a goofy grin. “Short version it is!”
Nathan crossed his arms and huffed. Fairy bells tinkled in the distance; the breeze smelled like melons.
“Now then,” Daddy began with much eye-rolling. “For the billionth, trillionth, zillionth time, you’re special, magicborn – or myseborn – the proper term being. Which means you can dream your little soul into a nifty world called Iithia.” Daddy bounced the puffgrass with his hand to demonstrate. “Yeah, this place. Home of the yoolups, four moons, day and night at the same time, puffgrass, ugly Bo’rk, and a partridge in a pear tree. Now, when we myseborn sleep, our souls leave our bodies and wander through the Mirror – you know, that thing with the chiming circles? Yeah, that’s the mirror. Anyway, since you’re a soul, you can run faster, jump higher, breathe underwater, blah, blah, blah–“
MIZE-born, EEtheea, BOK. Nathan rolled the words around in his head for a moment. Then he asked, “Daddy, why can only myseborn come here?”
“There are theories the wizards have, but that’s part of the long boring answer, and as you recall, you chose the short answer.”
“Wizards? And no, I chose the LONG answer.”
“Yes, wizards. And nope, sorry. Daddy’s already exhausted from all this talking and wants to relax on top of a Roam Tree. They’re great for sleeping you know, kinda like being in a car–“
“Daddy!”
Daddy quirked a smile and bounced the puffgrass with both hands. It bobbed up and down like a springs. “Yes, sillybutt?”
“You’re being difficult.”
“You look like an angry monkey.”
Nathan dropped the face he had been giving Daddy and stuck out his tongue instead.
“I won’t even tell you what that looks like.” He cleared his throat. “So, how about them Roam Trees?”
“Who cares about some boring old trees?”
“Oh, now that does it.” Daddy said, and began rolling up his sleeves. “You’ve left me no choice—” Nathan scooted back on the puffgrass and tried not to laugh as Daddy pretended to stalk him. Then he jumped to his feet and ran down the hill. Gran-nana’s blanket fell from his shoulders, but that was okay. The puffgrass would take care of it. Daddy followed with his arms flung wide and ready to swoop him away.
Nathan found he could run faster and faster. Daddy whooped behind him and then pounced. Before Nathan could react, Daddy scooped him up and dashed into the forest.
Iithia spun past in a blur of color and sound. Weird shapes rose and faded and some parted to let them through with yips or growls of complaint.
It wasn’t until Daddy cleared the tree line and reached a wide field of yoolups that he stuck his foot out and slid to a halt. Dirt and puffgrass flew. Nathan had to wrap his arms around Daddy’s neck to keep from falling. Even without a ‘body’, he felt winded. Daddy patted him on the shoulder. “Whoo! That was awesome! Now, on your feet and turn to your left, kiddo! We caught them just in time!”
Once on the ground, Nathan turned to his left. His jaw dropped.
In the clearing, trees the size of redwoods rolled in a wave over the land. Roots that should have been deep within the earth, glided above it like the limbs of a ballerina. Leaves, pink as cherry blossoms, rippled as the boughs dipped and swayed in a dance of constant motion. A sound split the air, a fluting cry more haunting than whale song. An impressive sight, one that he hoped he would never forget. But there was more.
Other creatures milled around the tree herd: shaggy cow things with black fur and long tapered horns. Long-tailed birds flew from tree to tree and darted between the branches. Deer with white speckled fur and black antlers leaped over and beneath the waving roots. Other animals scampered here and there, but Nathan couldn’t make out what they were.
“That’s odd.” Daddy frowned and watched the herds with suspicious eyes. He leaned his hand against a nearby tree. “The trees never move that fast—”
“You think that’s fast?”
Daddy gave him a sharp look and didn’t answer. Instead he tilted his head and listened, eyes closed. Nathan waited. The wind blew Daddy’s frump bangs from his face and revealed deep furrows of concentration. Was Daddy praying? The chill of evening made Nathan shiver, and he wished he still had Gran-nana’s blanket. He looked at the herd again, and gave a soft “oh!”
A cluster of the butterflies wove as an ivory snake past looping roots and low swinging branches. Their song overcame the groan of the trees and tugged something inside Nathan. Coaxing, sweet voices filled his mind.
“They’re dangerous to you, Natter.”
Nathan jumped and pretended to look somewhere else. Daddy had his eyes open and now studied him with a scowl. Heat flushed Nathan cheeks.
“Why? They’re just butterflies. I think they’re neat.”
“Avali aren’t good for the soul. Especially yours,” he said and kicked a piece of dry wood. “Guess we’ll have to wait till next migration for a ride.”
“Why? What does it matter if they’re there?”
“Long story.”
“Are you going to ‘blah blah’ me again?”
“Sometimes knowing isn’t the best thing, kiddo. Avali carry Gleam. Gleam is—”
A horn blew, high, trumpeting. It cut through the groans of the Roam herd, through the murmur of the animals running with them. Daddy froze. All fell silent; even the birds had stopped calling.
“Daddy what was—?”
“Shh.” Daddy’s eyes scanned the horizon, searching, his fists balled at his sides. The horn shrilled again, making them both jump.
Daddy’s eyes went wide. He looked at Nathan, his face drawn, troubled. “That was a summoning horn.”
“Who blew it?”
“Someone who had no choice—” Daddy looked around, uncertain. Then he gave a big fake smile. “Hey, stay here until I come back, okay?”
“You’re leaving me here?”
“I’m just going to check it out. I’ll be back in a flash, promise.”
“Can I come?”
“I said stay put!” Daddy’s tone left no argument. Nathan knew when to shut up. Daddy cast him a stern look and vanished between the trees.
He shifted his feet and gazed out into the field. Roam Trees stirred again, their cries sad and lost. In the west, the dark half of the sky loomed like a storm that would never come. The air grew colder. Daddy had seemed worried about the horn, really worried. Who had blown it? Why was he not allowed to come—
Something squeaked and bumped his foot. Nathan jumped with a yelp, but then felt silly. Just a mouse, a weird one with long floppy ears and a rabbit’s tail. It darted through the puffgrass and into the clearing. He hoped nothing gobbled it up, like a big floppy-eared owl or something.
Another mouse rushed past, then another, and another. More bumped his feet, their squeaking a chorus now. Was this a mouse migration?
He hopped on a fallen log and sniffed the air. Nope, no smoke. But there was something on the wind, a scent he could only think of as moldy strawberries and curdled milk.
A mouse scampered by, the biggest one yet, but it only got a little past the log when it squealed and fell on its side. Nathan jumped down and rushed over. The mouse convulsed once, twice, its black eyes open in terror. Blood dripped from its mouth. Its little chest heaved. Did something attack it? Nathan looked all around. He saw nothing, heard nothing.
The mouse gave a final spasm and died. He peered at it, tears in his eyes. Poor mousey. Maybe it had been sick or injured, or–
Then the puffgrass beneath the mouse’s body began to wither and brown. He jerked back as the mouse too, began to shrivel; its body folded in on itself and its fur fell out. That smell was stronger now, thick. Nathan’s breath came fast, and even though he was just a soul, he felt nauseated. Where was it coming from?
“Ahhh.”
Nathan stiffened. A figure came floating between the trees: a man dressed in red robes embroidered with gold, with long white hair and pale skin. His tight smile was what put Nathan on edge. It seemed, fake: a painted smile on a mask. The man bowed to him, and when he lifted his head, he sniffed the air. He made another ahhh sound. All the hairs on Nathan’s arms stood at attention.
“Within the dreamer, I see something small, something bright. The seed within calls to Gleam,” the man said in singsong. His eyes changed from green to black to green again. Did his feet even touch the ground? Nathan craned his head to see, but then the man spoke again.
“Where is your Guide, child?”
“My Daddy’s coming back real soon.” Nathan backed away until he bumped into a tree. Why couldn’t he fade like a ghost and go through it? The man smiled. White teeth with black gums.
“Of course he will; dreamers must be watched, must be protected.” The man tilted his head to one side and studied him with his glittering eyes. Nathan saw the puffgrass beneath the man’s feet had rotted away. There was only brown dust and cracked earth. He remembered the mouse, how it had died.
“Come here, Gleam child.” The man no longer looked youthful. Splotches of gray broke upon his cheeks and forehead. The flesh there stretched, thinned; his eye sockets deepened.
Nathan shrank against the wood. The man’s black eyes pinned him there. Swirling red and violet on black glass. “No, you hurt things, you killed the mouse!”
“Yes, I bring death.“ The man shuddered. His mask crumpled more. The robes blacken before Nathan’s eyes. They began moving around his body in a slow circle. A cloud of smoke. It shrouded the man and drew behind him like wings. There were people inside it. He could see a face here, a hand there. How did the man get people in his wings?
“Gleam child, a gift for you.” The man dipped his hand into the darkness and cupped something.
He held it forward with a lipless smile and opened his palms. An offering in the form of an Avalie.
It sang as it fluttered in lazy circles; the voice rippled through him and Nathan recoiled. “Daddy said those were bad!”
“Shh, Gleam is only light, only pretty voices. Touch it.”
“No, go away!”
“The seed must be awakened, soul to Gleam.” The man sent his “gift” drifting toward him. A tingling sensation crawled over his body, and moved inward. It stroked something deep, something that shivered with awareness.
Something small, something bright.
“No…Daddy said no.” Tears streamed down his face. His back slid down the tree and he huddled there.
“Touch it, myseborn.”
“No!”
“TOUCH IT!” The mask cracked open and Nathan saw the monster inside. Its flesh split, reformed then split, as if someone kept sewing its face together and then ripped the seams open again. Nathan screamed and covered his eyes.
Something whooshed loud and heat flared. He could smell burning wood. Nathan peeked through his fingers.
A wall of fire roared between him and the monster. The Avali melted in mid-flight. Then the fire shrank and shifted into a flaming bird. Its cry rang out and flame spears from its wings arched toward the monster. It only laughed in glee. The monster opened its mouth wide and sucked the fire from the air, inhaling it, eating it. Then he spat it back, laced with darkness. When it hit, the bird flopped to the ground in a flurry of ash and sparks. The bird shifted again—
Into a man.
“Daddy?”
Daddy staggered to his feet and raised his arm to form a shimmering red wall. After Daddy made it, he stumbled to his knees. The monster snarled, and sent black eyeless snakes that hissed as they struck the shield. It flickered. Nathan pushed away from the tree and ran toward him.
“No!”
Nathan stopped, confused.
“I’m not your father,” Daddy said as he panted. Dark fire bombarded the wall, but he ignored it. “I took this form so you would trust me, and for your sake, trust me now! Follow your Gran-nana’s voice; it’ll lead you to the mirror. You must flee! Go!”
It wasn’t the angry orange in the Guide’s eyes that convinced him, it was the monster’s triumphant shriek as the last round of its flames tore through the wall. His Guide morphed with astonishing speed: a giant horse with wings and a wicked curving horn. It whinnied in challenge as flames rose from its mane.
The monster charged, howling; Nathan fled.
He flew through trees and brush – only him this time – him and Gran-nana’s voice. Like the Guide had promised, her words rode the wind and led him to the mirror. He was in Gran-nana’s kitchen again, the scent of butter and chocolate thick enough to spread on the sugar cookies she had just pulled from the oven.
“All my boys had nightmares when they were young; the ‘Breen Curse’ mother had called it. Oh, she had such an imagination! She said we even had magic once, long ago…now what was the word she would use? Ah yes, myseborn.”
The sounds of battle raged behind him. An anguished shriek, mad laughter. Explosions rocked the forest. Nathan didn’t stop. Gran-nana’s words whispered on.
“Yes, your daddy would wake screaming in the middle of the night, sweating, eyes wide. Never could remember, poor thing. But don’t worry, Natter bug, you’ll grow out of it. Your daddy finally did.”
He was almost there; he could see the blanket on the puffgrass, rings swirling beyond it, his room beyond them, his sleeping body, curled into a ball. Something crashed in the woods, so close—
No hesitation. He passed Gran-nana’s quilt and dove through the mirror. Sounds roared. Light, pressure, tinkling chimes, couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t–
He woke screaming.
The lights came on, Daddy shouted, and still, he shrieked. He didn’t stop until Daddy enfolded him in his arms and rocked him, and rocked him.
“Take deep breaths, kiddo. Slow, easy, breaths.” Daddy smoothed Nathan’s hair back and held him close.
Nathan laid his head on Daddy’s shoulder, exhausted, all screamed out. He couldn’t remember what had scared him; already the memory slipped like sand from his mind.
He saw mother standing in the doorway. She had tears in her eyes. She stood there for several minutes. Tears slipped down her cheeks, her lips pressed so hard together they turned white. Then she wrapped her bathrobe tighter and escaped to her bedroom.
Nathan sighed, then sniffled. His eyes strayed to the closet. For some reason, a shiver went through him. But nothing stirred there, only clothes and toys and shadows.
Something sighed in the darkness. A soft moan.
Ahhhh…
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Reviews
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that made all the hairs rise on his arms. This should be made all the hairs on his arms rise (or better, stand up) Kree Kree this should not have caps
oved roses; like the red ones After a : you need a full sentence. In this spot you need a comma.
pressed together and looked mad. Looking mad would be better in this sentence.
or water replaced it. Should be had replaced it
That Nathan looked peaceful. Much like the place he had landed in. Should make one sentence with a comma replacing the period..;They spun with the wind. He thought about the Better if you wrote, As they spun with the wind, he thought…
s, pink as cherry blossoms, rippl this doesn’t need the commas setting it apart and could also do better as cherry blossom pink leaves
the proper term being. Leave off the being. The next sentence is a fragment.
I suggest you check the rules on colons as I believe you have misused them.
a man dressed in red robes embroidered with gold, with long white hair and pale skin As this is written, the robes have long white hair, etc.
He remembered the mouse, how it had died. Better simply as He remembered how the mouse had died. blacken needs to be blackened and go from there blackened and began
him and Gran-nana’s voice. He and G’s voice
Rather than a short story, I see this as the beginning of something longer.
There is something bugging me about your sentence structure. It’s probably too much the same from one to the next. A man dressed in robes is passive. Work to make more sentences active. I’m not sure what, because you do use dialogue, thoughts, scents, sounds, but somehow it feels more like I’m being told than seeing. Still, I think this is a very good start on something, but far from complete in and of itself.
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I am rating this hard but i am ranking you against the best writers I know. It is not publishable but it can be developed further. There are some aspects that are missing which are primary based on the stagnent flow or the piece. I didnt need to read it all to feel bogged down. Description slows this piece because there isnt enough action. Add more depth to the scenes by displaying a larger consciousness of the situation, dont just describe each piece isolatedly, but make conections to the context. add more about the father, the house, the world the child lives apart from this moment. expand time out of the moment and I think this piece could really grow. I hope that this can help you. And on the plus side its consistant, it makes sense and there is consideration of timing and subtlety. Keep it up and focus on varying the pace.
Overall a good short story. Your choice of a young character was interesting but i feel trades innocence for understanding. If the character were say between 10-16 instead of 4-7 what would have been the difference? When writing from the point of view of someone not in your age group how does that affect yours. Also you sometimes use short sentences where you could combine them with more effective language such as:
He saw mother standing in the doorway. She had tears in her eyes. She stood there for several minutes.
Firstly how would a kid know it was several minutes, also could it not maybe be:
He saw mother standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes, she stood there for some time.
Yet it is is still a good piece of work although as a standalone story is slighlty confusing.
Keep it up!
Hello.
I wanted to start off by saying I liked this piece. The premise is very intriguing, that of a boy who’s dream life is as real as his waking life. I was very much drawn in by the idea that this was some sort of family trait, as if the family was descended of some sort of magical line and that they’ve lost this power somehow, that its now just an echo, something they experience uncontrolled when the sleep.
That said, what I’ve summarized above are things I’ve gathered only after having thought about the piece some more. While reading it, I was a little confused about the child’s experience. I wasn’t sure at first if this was just a dream, or if he had actually crossed over to some realm.
Specifically, what confused me was the introduction that the boy had just awakened. While this is clever, to “wake up” on the other side of a dream, he was sitting in his bedroom and by all descriptions was simply awake. The moonlight was normal, his room was normal, he was somehow separate from his body but didn’t see himself lying there on the bed (i.e. he didn’t look down to see his arms still laying next to him or something).
Also, I have to admit I wasn’t sure this was a child until the seventh paragraph. While “Gran-nana” was a clue, some people (like myself) hold these endearing monikers for grandparents well into adulthood. What convinced me was the word “daddy” in the seventh paragraph and this was a little jarring as up until then the word choices were pretty normal. If I may offer some advice here, I’d move up the mention of “daddy” in the chair to the same paragraph of the blue revolving lamp. As he’s surveying the scene, he would see his father.
I was a little confused by the following description when he did mention his father. In the same description he talks about “Dr. Eld”. I wondered then if the boy was in a hospital, especially when this was given in addition to the title of the book the father had been reading to him. Was he checked into a mental institution? Maybe a hospital specializing in sleep disorders? The mental institution thing rang a little truer when he talked about remembering the “that damn shrink” argument between his parents. I think I would have liked some more concrete clarification since, for me, I was a little distracted wondering. If he was in a hosptial, he should notice equipment around the room, or such. Maybe thats just me, though.
The mention of the Gran-nanna having died was a great set up for the closet scene. I might suggest moving the initial mentioning of this up to when the boy talks about the blanket on his bed that Gran-nana gave him. As he’s mentioning her already, it’d be an easy way to work in a momentary feeling of sadness and build in some significance to the blanket, making his leaving it in fright at the end (I assume he left it) a little more poignent. It would also space out the distance between mentioning her being dead and his “she’s alive!” feeling.
His entering the closet because he thought he heard Gran-nana’s voice I thought was a clever way for him to over come his fear. I like how you build up his fear, having looked around the darkened room, something near him grunting, etc, but because he heard her he opened the door. I might suggest adding some more fear to this. The light you mentioned brought some remerance. I would expect if he’d been there before and always seemed to end with some terrifying experience, that this light would have some associations of fear with it. Maybe if he paused remembering such, but proceeded then to see Gran-nana? I’m not sure, I think what my point is the actual getting into the closet--essential to continue the story--felt just a tad rushed to me and I felt the “The glow and the breeze compelled him to turn around. He did, but why did he?” was too convenient.
I loved the actual description of his transport. The landing in cottonballs was a nice touch. To me this felt totally in line with what a child would think.
At this point I’m going to stop critiquing step by step. The whole Lithia scene was interesting. I was wondering when I heard the name “Lithia” if it might still be a dream and this was dream-like way of referencing “lithium”, a mood-stabilizing drug. But, I might have thought this since, as mentioned above, I was already wondering if the boy was in a hospital. I mention all of this because even at the end it’s not clear if this a dream or not, and if you’re intending this to not be, it might need some clarification.
The interaction between the boy and his father is cute. I love the “sillybutt” references and the “remember you wanted the short answer” teasing and such, but I thought it a bit convenient the father was suddenly there. It was great when it turned out this wasn’t his father, but some guardian.
I also think you did a great job building a world here. There are various creatures with various levels of good/bad/neutralness. In some respects, I almost felt like I was reading a scene from an anime (which is a compliment from me ;-) ). Once I was finished reading, however, I was left with some questions:
1. What exactly was the point of the boy’s traversal into this other realm? I liked the nemisis appearing, and there was some good hints that this boy was special and therefore the object of the nemesis’s activities, but there was no mention of prior interactions, no “remembrances”, and nothing to suggest a sequel. In short, does this piece build to something else? Are these nightly “dreams” contiguous and building on each other, where the boy is on some quest when he sleeps, or is he haphazardly stumbling into this other realm, being rescued, and running home each night? The boy is obviously important, as the whole Gleam/seed scene was about (by the way, the “something small, something bright” is a nice vague allusion to something, it left me wondering)
2. The guardian spirit seemed to be waiting for him, and playfully interacting with him in a very caring means, but I wasn’t sure what their actual relationship was. Does this guardian wait for him every night and re-explain the same things to him? Is the guardian training him to be the hero of this story, or as per #1 just watching him and rescuing him? If he’s rescuing him all the time, then:
3. If the guardian is there for the boy’s safety, which I would think is the role of a guardian, why did he disappear leaving the boy alone? Was he lured away and if so why? These butterflies, do they not normally appear? Did he leave his charge unprotected for some greater good, or did he hope to draw the nemesis out in the open?
4. This is nit-picking but if he left Gran-nana’s quilt, wouldn’t he notice this when he “woke up”? I ask because he seems to forget everything between wake/sleep states. While this can be very useful for a plot device (I’m thinking sort of a fantasy Johnny Mnemonic at age eight), the blanket would be an excellent clue for him, especially with the significance hinted to at the beginning of the piece.
5. I was wondering what happened after “Ahhh”. Did something follow him back? Did he remember something from the experience? Was it his guardian being killed? The nemesis?
Again, I really enjoyed reading this piece. I rated it as I did because I do honestly feel it needs some more revision and I felt it ends with no real resolution, but is definitely a piece with potential. I’m not sure what you’re looking for here, as in goals for the piece, but I would love to read a revision. I’d also love to discuss it in more detail if you wish.
Thank you for sharing.
pg.1
Not sure the age of the main character, the word you are using to describe the surroundings in the first paragraph lead me to believe he is a little older, maybe adolesent. But as I read on it seems like a younger child.
pg.2-3-4
“His bedroom lay beyond the rings. And he was still sleeping on his bed.” These to sentances just seem strange to me, I’m sorry can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe something like “His bedroom lay beyond the rings, where he was still in his bed.”. I just think the grammer is wrong or I may be. Just looks better to me that way.
pg.5-6-7
“MIZE-born, EEtheea, BOK. Nathan rolled the words around in his head for a moment.” this line is leading me to believe that he is even younger then origanally thought. He slight speech impediment leads me to think he a child of about 4-6 years of age. Is it the boy who says you are being difficult? That sounds like something an older child would say. Please don’t think I am ripping your story to shreds. I am very much enjoying it at this point and feel compelled to read more. You have done a fantastic job of engaging the reader in this new fantasy world.
pg.11
“The man no longer looked youthful. Splotches of gray broke upon his cheeks and forehead. The flesh there stretched, thinned; his eye sockets deepened.” I don’t recall you ever mentionong that the man looked youthful, you had said ”A figure came floating between the trees: a man dressed in red robes embroidered with gold, with long white hair and pale skin.” which led me to believe that is was an old being.
Final review… Bravo I absolutely loved this and I would love to read more of this. I hope you consider turning this into a longer story it would also help to shed a little more like on the argument about the shrink.. This was such a great read. Thank you.
An annoying bird. One that sounded like a blue jay pretending to be a songbird and not fooling anyone. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut tight and yanked the covers over his head. The best defense against tweeting invaders. Morning wasn’t here yet; the dream of something bright still clung to his mind. If he snuggled down and didn’t move, maybe he could–-
I liked this part, the description and wording were superb.
moonlight shone in a hazy tic-tac-toe on his bedspread
I don’t think that tic-tac-toe is the right espression/wording here. try something else, criss-cross or something like it.
That chair was okay for sitting and rocking, but he didn’t think Daddy was too comfy sleeping in it: not with his shoulder bent like that and chin on his chest.
Okay good but not enough for me. What does the chairt look like. You need more discription of the surroundings. I can’t see it.
The sky above couldn’t make up its mind whether to be day or night. Over the eastern horizon, the sun shone hazy and three moons hung like ghosts behind it, two big blue ones and one small and red. On the other side, set inside a twilight sky like shiny pearls, lay stars and a full white moon that was even larger than the eastern sun.
to me the flow sounds off.
“You’re being difficult.”
“You look like an angry monkey.”
Nathan dropped the face he had been giving Daddy and stuck out his tongue instead.
ITs flow is off and feels rushed. Slow down, put more into your story.
a wide field of yoolups
We don’t know what a yoolup is. Tell us. You need to asume we are ignorant and let us know what is what or else we wont see it and might stop reading.
The mask cracked open and Nathan saw the monster inside. Its flesh split, reformed then split, as if someone kept sewing its face together and then ripped the seams open again. Nathan screamed and covered his eyes
Still not that descriptive. You are telling not showing and with to much your reader isn’t going to want to keep reading something they can’t see. It is good but in my eyes it needs a lot of work. Two of your main problems is telling, not showing and rushing.
Now, I am not very good with Sci-Fi because it isn’t my particular cup of tea; however, this is an extremely well-written short story.
I loved the way you described the leaves (as cherry blossoms) and the other nature descriptions i.e. the wind, the trees, etc. I also loved your memory simile (“the memory slipped like sand from his mind”).
I would love to read more character description. I understand the main character is a kid but maybe more personality and outward description.
All-in-all, a tight short story. The characters are believable, the events, the descriptions are lovely.
You said this was for a contest? You included everything that would be needed in a story like this, such as explanations for words you created or words no one knows. As far as I am concerned, this story is perfect and ready to be submitted. The story started out in a way that drew my attention in then it kept my attention through good explanations. I especially liked the vision of the villain, how eventually he is revealed for the monster he is. Over all I believe you can win this contest with no problem. Awesome Job!
This is really well-done. I could find very little that could be improved.
The only thing that confused me was the way Nathan got to Lithia. First, it seems that he went through the closet. Then his father he said he went through a mirror. Maybe you could mention something about the mirror or swirls in the closet and make it more clear.
“In agreement, Daddy began snoring.” In agreement with what?
“Of course, sillybutt,” Daddy had his hands on his hips. “Can’t let you” Either put a period after sillybutt (since Daddy had his hands on his hips is not a dialogue tag) or put a comma after hips and small “c” on can’t. (hips, “can’t)
“Fairy bells tinkled” How does Nathan know the bells are fairy bells? He can’t remember anything. How do fairy bells sound versus regular bells?
“and lost sounding.” Awkward. You don’t need the word sounding.
Wow this is really good. You open up with one line but it hooks you right away. And having the attention of your reader you dnt let it go. “From the closet the bird squaked” its such a child like fear, to look into the closet and your heart jumps cause you swear you saw a shadow shift. The way you let it unfold is beautiful. My one issue is a physical description, when you wait 2 long 2 let us see characters how you see them it throws off a reader cause now were adjustin our mental image for yours. Other then that amazing work!
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