Thanks very much for the critique!
Sci Fi & Fantasy / Ruth (Temporary Title) (Analysis)
Ruth was experiencing a moment of extreme regret. She stared at her phone as it flickered indecisively from one bar, to none, to five, and back to one, cursing quietly. Ruth was lost. She had set out from the apartment she had shared with a man of particular interest for many years, until interest had suddenly died out. She had left in a flurry, very early; her venus fly trap still remained lonely in the sill of her half-empty room, and, perhaps most importantly, the printed directions she had been rather proud of herself for remembering to get, lied abandoned in the dust-cushioned bed of her printer.
The car sat perfectly silent, aside from the radio, which was making a sound reminiscent of a frog gargling soap, and a cat, which was complaining loudly. The roof was quite like a tin drum, and rain splattered down, conveniently, on a deserted stretch of Highway One, where it was stranded, with the rest of the vehicle.
“Come on,” Ruth groaned, pounding her index finger roughly into the worn send key. Her cell elicited no response, and proceeded to shut down, as phones always do when such a response would be especially frustrating. Panic had long since fled, and frustration had come marching in, complete with a drum line and batons.
Ruth flung the phone at the passenger seat, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She then proceeded to pound her forehead into the wheel. The rain continued to pound. The cat continued to moan. The radio continued to mutter. After a while, the radio flattened out to a low, indistinct echo. The rain took a bit more courtesy, and began to only caress the roof. The cat did little differently, and Ruth began to snore.
The Highway stretched out long and empty, and the lonely little car sat in the muddy darkness, shrouded by thick pines and a mist of the kind novelists sneak into horror stories, and private eyes fume gleefully in, beneath low, yellow street lights.
It was a dark and stormy night.
Both of which were rather unremarkable, as night generally tends to be dark, and storms aren’t especially uncommon, whatever California will have you believe. It wasn’t particularly stormy, either, just a bit damp.
It was night.
The vehicle sat waiting as a figure, hunched, approached. It was wearing a worn brown coat, with woolen hairs sticking out all about it, heroically ignoring the downpour. A nose stuck out, crooked and knobbed, and glasses sat halfway down the bridge, so as to presumably aid the nostril’s vision. There was a mane of frizzy black hair, straight, thin set lips, and two watery blue eyes squinting ferociously out. It was a nearly elderly woman, with the face of an especially frazzled raven, and she was now at the door of Ruth’s car, carrying a pointed umbrella and a flashlight. She shone her flashlight directly in Ruth’s face, illuminating mousy brown hair frazzled from a long day of driving, and a mouth lolling open against the wheel. Ruth squirmed. Then she jumped straight, shot the light a terrific rendition of the classic deer in the headlights, and slammed on the gas pedal, to no effect.
The woman on the other side of the glass gave Ruth a thumbs down. Ruth looked puzzled.
The raven lady looked irritated. “Window!”
Ruth cracked the sill cautiously. Her forehead felt indented, and her brain was foggy, and felt like it might be drilling clear through her forehead. She wasn’t quite sure she was entirely awake.
“You drunk? Been out here a while,” the old woman said, quite accusingly.
Ruth frowned. “I’m out of gas.” The cat chimed in from the backseat.
The old woman glared through the glass at the feline.
“You come to my place,” the old woman stated, flatly. “But Cat stays in the box.”
“Um,” said Ruth. She kept in the back of her mind a slew of horror stories her mother cheerfully forwarded her in chain e-mails, and they all rattled for attention, suggesting the old woman might decide to have her for dinner, or steal her socks, or hack her computer.
The old woman tugged on Ruth’s door handle. Ruth flinched, but unlocked the car and slipped out on to the slick mud. She pocketed her phone, and reached into the back seat for the cat, as rain splattered inside the door, dampening the seats. The cat griped again, with special emphasis.
“What about my car?” Ruth asked, as the old woman turned, shoving the umbrella roughly into Ruth’s hands.
“What about it? You said it’s out of gas. Can’t be going far.”
Ruth juggled the cat out from the back seat, holding the umbrella at an angle ill equipped for blocking the downpour. The cat’s protests resounded in the chill air.
“Here,” the old woman offered. Ruth turned to hand her the cat. The old woman snatched away instead the umbrella, and began to trudge off. Ruth shook her head slowly, and bumped the door shut with her hip, as the cat howled. She quickly locked the door, feeling a bit silly as she did so, and hurried off to catch up to the tattered brown coat.
The overgrown path, distinguished as such only by the old woman’s determined gait, meandered through the forest-ridden mountainside, pockmarked with weeds, and rocks that wore moss like furry green coats. Mud squelched and bubbled beneath Ruth’s shoes, and she could feel the oozing dampness creeping in and wetting her socks. The old woman halted, stuck a knobbed hand deep into her coat, and produced an extremely rusty key. The house sat, or rather, roosted, upon a crumbled foundation of stone, riddled with cracks, and vines that stretched over into them like talons. It was wooden; the roof appeared sunken, and was largely covered in thick, determined ivy. Here and there, a stretch of rusted metal had been nailed crudely to the tiles. The windowpanes were streaked with raindrops, in a thick, greasy trickle. The porch looked as though it were slipping, about to dash down the hill like a sled, and creaked mournfully as Ruth and the old woman alighted. The old woman turned the key, pressed upon the door, and turned suddenly to Ruth.
“Now,” she said, “Mind that that cat doesn’t make too much of a ruckus. Might waken the tenants.” The woman looked up into the shingles, then back at Ruth. “Don’t you dare open that box until I’ve shown you well into your room.” She glared at the cat with all the kindness of an owl looking upon a field mouse.
The door creaked open, and warm, sticky light slipped out from the room. Ruth entered, and looked around, fingering her dead cell phone as panic waltzed back into her mind. The old woman shook out her coat as Ruth studied the hallway. The room was warm, and the scent of books and drying earth filled the air. Paneled wood blanketed the walls, covered here and there with the tattered remnants of what appeared to be newspaper clippings. The carpet was a deep green, and little specks of dust exploded from the depths with each footfall. Ruth looked up to see the ceiling scattered with holes, and she felt with growing apprehension that beaded eyes stared out at her from the depths.
The lock turned behind her, and she turned to find herself mere inches away from the old woman’s face.
“You watch that cat,” the old woman reminded her, once again. Ruth nodded carefully. The old woman squinted at her. “What’s your name, missy?”
“Ruth.”
The old woman seemed content. “My name is Jadwiga,” she announced. Ruth stared. The old woman seemed to ignore this, but continued. “You can call me Baba.” She began to trudge off down the hallway towards a dilapidated door, and was well through the door when she shouted back for Ruth to follow.
As Ruth made her way towards the doorway, she thought of two things. First, she thought of Joseph, and what he must have thought when he came home to an empty apartment. Then, she thought of herself, and the absurd predicament her decision to leave had brought about. Ba, ba, blacksheep, she thought, with resigned irony.
When Ruth entered the doorway, her thoughts changed completely.
Baba was busily lighting a candle, while a bed sat in the middle of the room, against all odds, making itself. Ruth dropped her phone. She also dropped the cat.
The box flung open, and several things happened. The cat bolted straight under the bed. The bed ceased in the midst of laying a sheet, and pillows flopped lifelessly from the air. Then the room filled with an insidious, wicked scream.
Ruth felt the air fill up with wings, and she saw thick, black feathers fill the room. Baba shouted, and Ruth stumbled to the ground. The cat growled and sputtered beneath the bed. Suddenly, three loud, resounding claps sounded, and the wings and the screeching were gone. Ruth peered up cautiously, arms raised above her head. Baba stood by the door, glowering, a single feather in her hand.
“I told you not to let the cat out,” she hissed. Then she turned, slammed the door, and left Ruth utterly bewildered on the floor, with her irritated and frightened cat.
Ruth stared at the bed. The bed would have stared back, had it eyes, but it didn’t, so instead it simply remained stationary in the center of the room, being a bed. The cat had long since curled up between the covers, fast asleep, while Ruth remained on the floor, arms around her legs, terrified. She’d tried to lure the cat back into the box, but failed. She’d tried the door, but it was locked. There were no windows in the room, and Ruth was quite frightened to examine it further. She had been in the same four or five foot square since the old woman had stormed out.
The bed did not seem haunted. It seemed perfectly ordinary. The entire room seemed perfectly ordinary, especially given the state of the hallway, and the fact that it had previously been filled to the brim with angry feathers and screeches.
Ruth wondered if she might be going mad. It seemed likely, but gave her little sense of rest. She curled up in a very small ball, much like her cat, and tried to sleep, pounding the send key hopelessly on her phone, until a dizzy, uncomfortable silence settled on her mind, and she wandered halfway between sleep and consciousness.
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FrakKevin reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought it was okay, It starts out like most I’m stranded stories. I dont know if you mentioned it or not, but I interested to find out why she was out there. Were they crows flying around, because I wasnt quiet clear on what happened towards the end. I did enjoy it though and the mystery of this place and the old woman. She did a great job describing her and making her come off creepy which was very important if you wanted to keep the reader scared/
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AmyWalker reviewed Version 1 -
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To me personally I’m not really fond of this genre as I would say the sci-fi section, but I can honestly say that I might be converted to this side of writing because I found your to be novel very interesting I was hooked as soon as I read the first few lines… For me the introduction is very important when it comes to reading anything really because thats what grabs a readers attention and I found the plot to be surprisingly interesting and facinating at the sametime and the characters are very well portrayed throughout what you’ve started. I’m actually looking forward to reading what you come up with later on this to be novel of yours….
You have a very poetic way of story telling and it’s great I love it actually because alot of writers seem to write a novel as if they were writing a damn essay or a scientific theory on how the world grows butur voice in your writing is just how a writer is suppose to be, I love how you see the characters so raw, every detail throughout the story is pin pointed out and laid out just nicely, you did a very good job on making your characters realistic.
I enjoyed it!
Thanks for the read,
Amy
SwordMistress reviewed Version 1 -
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I think this is an interesting idea and that you have talent. The biggest flaws I saw were no clear point of view character and clarity. If I’m wrong I apologize, but it seemed like you were trying to hard with a lot of the sentences. Just write the story don’t try to make the sentences impressive. If you want more impressive sentences save that for the revising stage.
One of the first rules of sci fi/fantasy is to let the reader know as soon as possible what kind of story this is going to be. We have to wait until page three. It could be a simple of just giving us a couple of clues like maybe her gas tank was full and then was suddenly empty with out warning.
I suggest deleting the first sentence. The first sentence tells us what Ruth is experiencing. But the next couple start to show it.
“phone as it flickered indecisively from one bar, to none, to five, and back to one, cursing quietly.” This sounds like the phone is cursing.
“lied abandoned” lay
“The car sat perfectly silent, aside from the radio, which was making a sound reminiscent of a frog gargling soap, and a cat, which was complaining loudly. The roof was quite like a tin drum, and rain splattered down, conveniently, on a deserted stretch of Highway One, where it was stranded, with the rest of the vehicle.” This is awkward and doesn’t make a lot of sense. Of course the roof is stranded with the rest of car, they rarely leave the car on their own. Maybe something like, “She sat in silence, aside from the radio, which was making a sound like a combination of a frog gargling soap, and her cat complaining loudly from the backseat. The car sat alone on a deserted stretch of Highway One as the rain splattered down on the roof, sounding like a tin drum.
“Panic had long since fled, and frustration” Usually frustration happens before panic.
“Ruth began to snore.” If she is lost, frustrated, and beyond panic it seems on odd time to fall asleep.
“The Highway stretched out long” Before this point you write from Ruth’s point of view. Now whose point of view are we reading? It appears to be no ones. Then the old woman creature appears but she is described from someone else’s point of view. This would be more suspenseful if you just jumped to the part with the old woman waking Ruth up in the car. Then describe the woman’s appearance as Ruth sees it from her point of view. Let the reader be startled along with Ruth.
“It was a dark and stormy night… It was night.” This is entertaining, but it seems totally unnecessary and is not consistent with much of the tone of the piece.
“I’m out of gas.” This bit of information would have been more useful earlier. I was under the impression she was lost and just went to sleep. Maybe I missed something.
“The cat chimed in from the backseat.” It wasn’t clear earlier that there was actually a cat in the backseat. I thought you were still describing the music that you compared to a frog gargling then you say ‘and a cat complaining.’ It sounds like you are still talking about the music.
If the old woman lived near by why didn’t Ruth just get out of the car and go for help. If the highway was deserted there shouldn’t be anyone living around there.
DC_Karma reviewed Version 1 -
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‘She had set….died out.’ You say had 3 times in this sentence and it is the 2nd word in the next sentence. It is a fairly common mistake that can be easily repaired in most cases by simply omitting the word. ‘She set out…’ (and this method will work in every instance in that sentence).
‘lied abandoned’ I am pretty sure this is the incorrect tense, I beleive it is supposed to be lay, but I get confused on this as well; perhaps get another opinion.
’...of a frog gargling soap…’ nice line, good effect.
I noticed the cat protesting and the rain, and it immediately stood out as ‘wrong’ to me. I didn’t figure out that the cat was actually in the car, i.e. Ruth’s cat, until it is mentioned later. Try to elaborate.
’...mist of the kind novelists sneak into horror stories’ Haha! This is good; you are poking fun at your own cliche’. Makes it much less cliche’. (A term I am getting sick of hearing reviewers toss around so freely, anyway!) But you mke us aware that you are aware that it is oft used for just such moments :) Nice
‘It was a dark and stormy night.’ I actually have a very short story dedicated to this exact ‘cliche’ premise. But, keep in mind exactly who you are quoting: Snoopy (not exactly a novelist). But it ws still funny, and effective…I like the way your marrator rephrases it after consideration, ‘It was a stormy night.’ Many will probably critique this harshly…it works well for dry humor if that is your intent, ignore them ;P
‘The vehicle sat waiting…’ because a vehicle can not really wait, consider rephrasing maybe ’...vehicle sat idle…’
‘nearly elderly’ was she elderly or was she not?
‘cracked the sill ’ I’m pretty sure this would not be a correct context of this word. Either way, IMPO, it reads a bit awkwardly, slows the reader at the word ‘sill’.
‘Her forehead felt ’ Forehead and felt are both repeated in this one sentence. It abrupts th flow, IMPO, consider rephrasing. I love the sentence that comes after this one, though.
’...old woman might decide to…’ that’s hilarious! You could have went with the ‘old’ fear of ‘witch’ but you came up with completely new generation thinking on that one :D ’Hack her computer’ that’s great, nice effect; good for characterization on Ruth, as these are the things she derives from ‘hag/witch’.
You did a wonderful job of describing the appearance upon approach of old woman’s house. The entire paragraph was done artfully and filled with very effective imagery.
’...scent of books…’ Not to sure how many humans could take note of this smell as a distinct one.
‘from the depths ’ this is repeated twice in this same sentence.
This was written really well, and I enjoyed reading it. I think it may belong in the Horror section though. It’s not terribly fightening, but it doeas have the basic requirements: a monster. I love the imagery and menaing atmosphere set forth with a good dose of dry humor, which was realy effective in most cases. However, I do feel a certain detachment from the MC. At the end, I am not terrified alnong with her; I am left wanting and curious as to what that was. If you want to pull off a hanging ending, I think you should make the terror so great that we don’t really care. By keeping me at a certain distance from the fear, I am a creature as curious as the cat. That makes me wonder this, why the heck was the cat sleeping? I have 4 cats, none of whom wold be asleep after an adrenaline rush from a monstrous ‘feathered’ creature.
So it was really a good read, but I feel a bit letdown at the end. Consider tweaking it a bit, tightening it up, giving it a bit more definition and bring us readers right there to the action.
MoJoe reviewed Version 1 -
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~ Interesting voice for the narrator. I don’t know if it works, yet. It takes attention away from Ruth. Especially the bit about the dark and stormy night. Is there a way you could tie those thoughts to Ruth?
~ I like your concept, and I’m interested to see where you take this.
Static reviewed Version 1 -
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Ok, thoughts as I’m reading (I’m going to go a little easy on you since this is your first piece… not to mention I’ve been reviewing at full-force all day):
“She stared at her phone as it flickered indecisively from one bar, to none, to five, and back to one, cursing quietly.” – this sentence is worded a little bit awkwardly. Furthermore “cursing quietly”? The phone was cursing quietly as it flickered indecisively? (I know this isnt the case… but the way you’ve written the sentence, that’s how it seems)
“from the apartment she had shared with a man” – “from the apartment that she had shared with a man”
Haha I’m sure everyone’s done exactly the same thing when printing off directions.
“The car sat perfectly silent, aside from the radio, which was making a sound reminiscent of a frog gargling soap, and a cat, which was complaining loudly.” – um… huh?
“The roof was quite like a tin drum, and rain splattered down, conveniently, on a deserted stretch of Highway One, where it was stranded, with the rest of the vehicle.” – again, ...huh?
“index finger roughly into the worn send key.” – I’m going to guess from this that either you’re an older writer or Ruth is an older character (or both) as the younger generation seem selectively use their thumbs to press buttons on cellphones
“The rain continued to pound.” – already used the word “pound” in the sentence prior to this one, I’d choose a different word. Even something as simple as “pour”
“The cat continued to moan.” – Cat? I thought you were describing the sound of the radio as a frog gargling soap and a cat complaining about it… Not that the cat was complaining about the noise of the radio =S
“Both of which were rather unremarkable, as night generally tends to be dark, and storms aren’t especially uncommon” – hahaha I love this line here (except for the refference to California; I’m from Australia so it’s lost on me)
“It was night.” – I believe you’ve already told us this several times.
“so as to presumably aid the nostril’s vision.” – hahaha great use of humor!
“or steal her socks, or hack her computer.” – again, very funny
“The overgrown path, distinguished as such only by the old woman’s determined gait” – great description here! (although, is that the way you spell gate/gait? I realise you’re reffering to her stride/how she’s walking but…)
“Ruth looked up to see the ceiling scattered with holes, and she felt with growing apprehension that beaded eyes stared out at her from the depths.” – already used the word “depths” in the pervious sentence – might want to choose a different word
“The bed would have stared back, had it eyes, but it didn’t, so instead it simply remained stationary in the center of the room, being a bed.” – haha I’ve always loved this kind of redundant ending to a sentence; sure-fire way to add humor.
Overall this was an intriguing yet uncomfortable (intentionally so) story. My main problem with it is that your use of humor, though very amusing and – in most places – well done, stops the reader from taking specific scenes too seriously. For example, the description of the house is very grave and uncomfortable, but your use of humor lightens the moment; I’d be trying to keep this as dark as possible.
I’ve refrained from making too many comments on grammar. However, I’d suggest that you re-read through this aloud and see if anything jumps out you as needing to be changed (there were a couple of sentences that jumped out at me).
All in all, a very interesting and well-written story! A great first submission.
HermiG reviewed Version 1 -
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I found this a little difficult to read, as the sentences were so long. I’ll try my best, though, to give you a good review based on what I understood.
I had problems keeping my attention upon the text. You are very good at describing places, but perhaps you could try to let the reader decide a little by himself? If you tell someone that “the car was stranded in the middle of a wood, raindrops drumming on its roof”, they already have an image of what this looks like. Creating a realistic setting is important, but if you take it too far, the setting gets unrealistic. The reader is unable to make associations himself. But, again, you’re great at giving good descriptions!
You don’t give me much information about the main character. The only thing I know about Ruth so far, is that she has left her boyfriend, that she have a cat and brown hair. Seeing as this is the first chapter (?), I’d try introducing her a little better.
Also, a witch in a spooky house isn’t that original, is it? It’s important to make the reader interested from the very start off. So far, this hasn’t made me very interested. Why don’t you add some surprise elements already?
Although there’s a lot of negative critics going on (but I hope you find it useful!), I think you really have potential! You’re obviously great at writing, you just have to sort it out a little better!
1Nevermind1 reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought this was really good.
It’s not often you get people writing fantasy with humour, I don’t really know why…as it’s a very cool combination. You balanced out good descriptions, by descrbing things in a matter of fact way which makes people laugh. I particularly like the bed bit :D
Constructive criticism time: Uhm… Well when you’re saying: “She kept in the back of her mind a slew of horror…” etc.
You could say ’ THAT her mother HAD cheerfully forwarded in chainmail.’ Or whatever… Obviously without the whatever.. And the capitals, because otherwise that would sound silly…
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