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Don't know if this is exactly allowed but I see alot of threads about mangas and such.
I am writing a fantasy book after lots of encouragement from my father. Obviously, since he is my father, hes going to tell me its good. What I want is feedback from other people. I am going to post my stories prologue, and if you want to see more of it (it is at 44 pages right now) you can email me at:
I would put this on a website for people to look at, but I am unfamiliar with sites that would allow me to do this. If you are afraid this is a scam (and I don't blame you) don't flame please. I would seriously like feedback on this.
These paragraphs are somewhat long, if you need me to I will break them up further, but these are copied directly from my story being written in size 12 Times New Roman font.
I will say this is just my first draft, so if things are confusing or strange or just plain don't add up they will be fixed in future drafts.
Edit:: Also, grammar !@#$s with the grammar hammer? For once you are welcome.
Biting into the loaf of bread, the man looked around the busy street from the shadowed ally from where he stood. He really stood out, his black armor inlaid with strange symbols, dark red. No one but he knew them, the armor was ancient, and from a different part of the world. However he did not know what they all meant, and probably never would. A black hood was pulled low over his head, touching the tip of his nose, covering his icy blue eyes. He had enchanted the cloth so he could see through it, while covering his face. From his sword belt hung a sword a falcon head for the pommel, wings for its cross guard, a gold inlayed handle, and the blade had the same inscription as his armor, though for attacking instead of defense. The bastard sword hung straight across the belt, held by leather straps. Chains were melded to the leather, and from the chains hung four books, each intricately carved and adorned, the chain was hooked through the spine of each book so that anyone trying to take them would have to take the belt as well. The books hung low to his knees, knocking against the cloth robe that sprouted from his belt. The robe was split up the middle to allow for movement, and his leg plates were the same color and had the same inscription as his chest armor. His cape was secured to his square shoulder plates with a brooch, which was a red tear, or drop of blood, he couldn’t decide. His cape was made of eagle feathers which faded into wolf fur about a quarter of the way down. The eagle feathers were white as was the fur. He fingered the tip of one of the long blades that was slung across his back, with a handle in the middle. The tip of the blade would extend slightly past his fist where he held it by the handle, and the rest would curve past his elbow. There were two of these arm-blades, each one fashioned from a strange metal that glowed softly at night. There were no inscriptions of any kind.
The man sighed and pulled a piece of cloth up around his face, covering up to his nose, and together the cloth and hood covered the entirety of his face, Though if you looked closely you could make out two odd protrusions from around his mouth, where his fangs jutted out slightly. He walked out into the street, blending as much as he could, though the people generally gave him a wide berth. He was trying to find the inn where he was staying, but the city seemed to be constantly changing. Or he was blacking out again, he couldn’t tell which. A cart was coming up, driven by a woman with blonde hair. She was beautiful, and an elf he realized as she rode past and he could see her pointed ears. He stopped and stared, then lurched forward and fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. When the fit passed he turned to the cart to see a plain woman with black hair, her ears no longer pointed. He shook his head trying to clear it, and walked on ignoring the pain in his stomach. He looked down at his gauntleted hand, the spiked metal shining brightly. He looked forward to see the courtyard of a mercenary company. Confused, he turned around and saw the city far behind him. Turning around again, the courtyard was no longer there. Instead, the gate of hell was before him. He stumbled backwards, falling down. He quickly regained his footing and pulled out his bastard sword and pulled a book into his hand by the chain. He flipped it open and checked the page, then adopted a fighting stance to where he could easily read from the books potent array of spells and fight with his sword. Nothing happened. Instead, he saw a man, hood pulled up over his face, blazing white armor, and a bow. Strapped straight across his sword belt, was a sword with a falcon for the pommel, wings for the cross guard, and strange runes on the blade. Next to him was a wolf with blue-white fur, and a single gleaming white fang amidst the rest of its yellowed teeth. The man tried to shout to the knight with white armor, but he could not move. He was frozen. The man turned to him and stared at him strangely, and he realized at that moment he was looking at himself, but he didn’t know when or why or even how.
The image faded and he woke up in his inn room, White-Tooth, the wolf with blue-white fur and the white fang, sitting on his chest growling.
“Down girl,” he growled, and she obeyed. He sighed, and looked out at the moonlit street. His mind was whirling and incoherent, just as it had been since he woke up, with no memory of the last 20 years, that long time ago. He stared at the heavens, and his face twisted into a snarl of pain, regret, and anger. He went to a bowl of water and splashed his face, and felt his fangs. Sharp, sharp as always. He went back to his bed and the wolf curled up on top of his chest again. He looked over at the wall, where his banner stood. That old hunk of wood and cloth, with a black rose on a field of red. He scoffed, then pulled a necklace out of his pocket, the last thing She had given him, before their wedding, before it all ended, before they took her.
“Caretakers… yeah right,” he muttered before going back to sleep.
Edited by Ashrad on 8/21/2012 2:13 PM PDT
So far I actually really like the story but the writing style itself could use a bit of touch up in my opinion. It seems that you just throw out adjectives at random or just drop descriptions in occasionally. Take this:A black hood was pulled low over his head, touching the tip of his nose, covering his icy blue eyes. He had enchanted the cloth so he could see through it, while covering his face.
In all honesty i'm not that happy with the prologue, I may end up changing it to describe what happened during his wedding. Right now you find out bits and pieces during his psychotic episodes (like the second paragraph where he can't remember wandering the city).
I may change the beginning (like chapter one) to a fight scene and add in the description as the fight goes on.
Edited by Ashrad on 8/21/2012 11:09 AM PDT
My advice is to not post any of your writings on this website if you really want to write a story. One of my favorite authors, Tad Williams, has had to personally warn people on his message board to not directly post their writings in the threads, but to post a link to a blog.
This is because when you put the writings on a website, the owner of said website becomes the owner of the rights to those writings. I am fairly certain this isn't a deliberate act on the website owner's part, but just how the legal system works in this case. I'm guessing the same thing is in place here in Blizzard's forums.
So, what I would do is create a blog for this purpose and find a way to get people to see it. Hopefully you are allowed to post a link here. If not, try Tad Williams message boards, for they have a thread topic for this type of thing, and post a link to a blog there.
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