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Akarshi
Apr 23, 2011

Hey all. This is the first time I'm posting anything of mine online for critique, so please don't hold back your critiques! Something about this story strikes me as off and stilted, but I can't pinpoint what. I think it has something to do with the dialogue, or perhaps the lack of description. Anyways, this is the beginning of a longer story. Thanks for reading!

"What god did you displease," asked the guard, "to be given a post in Altkreis?"

Snow fell in drifts, chilling Nate to the bone. At this height, the valley below was nearly invisible, covered by a thick mist. The guard spat to the side as he glanced through the paperwork.

"Folks who live in Altkreis are a strange lot, I tell you," he continued, shaking his head. "A pity you're assigned there. How long?"

"Five years," said Nate. "The old doctor died. I am to train his successor. The old doctor was a family friend of my mentor, so."

The guard grunted. "This village doesn't need a doctor, it needs an avalanche." He finished looking through the paperwork and handed it to Nate. "I don't know how it is out there," he nodded out in the direction of the rest of the world, "but Altkreis is different."

Nate knew. Altkreis had a reputation, even outside of the snow country. According to the stories, children grew up gagged and farm animals had their vocal cords cut. The slightest noise, it was said, could cause an avalanche. The only places where the villagers could make merry were small mountain nodes, quirks of nature where sounds are cancelled out by their own echos. Everywhere else, there could only be silence.

The guard called for the gate to be opened. It did so with a groaning, laborious creak. Before him, as wooden gates drew aside, were crudely cut steps winding up and around the mountain.

"Well then," said the guard. "The village is a sharp climb up from here. There will be a guide halfway. And...Nathaniel Richter, is it?"

"Yes."

The guard nodded, a glint of pity in his dark eyes. "Be careful."



Snow blurred the edges of the trees, tall and spindly etches against a sky as white as the ground. A branch snapped under Nate’s clumsy steps. The wind howled, snow crunched. The steps had long since faded away, replaced by a rough trail.

How far was halfway? It felt as though Nate had been walking for hours. He shivered; he could no longer feel his nose. Up ahead on the sloping mountain he saw nothing save more dead trees.

Another step forward, then a shape appeared, dark and blurred. Nate squinted. The shape became clearer - a young man, standing so still he may well be a statue. Nate took a step, then another, until he reached the man. Before he could speak, the man bowed quickly and began to talk in a voice so quiet Nate could barely hear him over the wind's howl. "You are the doctor? Nathaniel Richter?"

"I am. Are you the guide?"

The man nodded. "Yes. I will also be your student for the next five years. You were acquainted with the old doctor, rest his soul? Odd for the old man to know someone so young, but-"

"I...no, my mentor was. This is to be my first official post as a doctor, for the time being."

The young man's voice held a note of unpleasant surprise. "You mean to say that you have no prior experience?"

The wind's blowing grew stronger. The snow was so thick Nate could hardly see the world beyond a narrow column of two feet.

"I have enough experience," Nate replied. He braced herself for an incoming gust of wind. "What is the name of my future student?"

The young man's expression had cooled significantly. Flakes of snow covered his hair; he gave them no notice. "Finn Bower. Please follow me. From now on, we must be quiet. The mountain is not forgiving."



The village was completely silent when Nate and Finn reached it. Thick, windowless buildings squatted close to the ground, as though afraid the wind would blow them away. Thick icicles hung from eaves. The ground was a pure, untouched white. It felt as though the village was holding its breath; a town of ghosts.

Finn bowed once more, swept his hand out to indicate that they have arrived, and pointed to the largest building, its wooden walls stained by countless winters. Then, without a word, he left in the direction of a closely clustered group of ramshackle cabins.

This was, Nate saw, not a rich village. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and walked over to the building Finn indicated. He went up worn wooden steps, hesitated at the door. Should he knock? The complete silence of the village pressed in around him. Breaking it would have felt profane; the village was like a slice of time from a generation ago, perfectly preserved by ice.

The door opened before Nate could knock and another young man peered out. Upon seeing Nate, he smiled and nodded a brief greeting that Nate hastened to return. He gave a meaningful glance outside before beckoning him in.

Once inside, the door closed, the young man started talking. "So, you are to be our doctor for the next few years! This is very exciting. How was the walk up? I hope it was not too difficult."

Taken off-guard by the sudden boisterousness, Nate managed only a stammered no.

"Excellent," said the man. "It has been a while since we've received new residents in Altkreis. There will be dinner soon; I trust you are famished after your no doubt arduous journey."

The interior of the building, Nate noted, was large and closed off to the outside by heavy wood. Noise could not escape. He felt himself relax. As long as silence did not have to be observed at all times, he could manage. "Thank you for your generosity. Although," Nate hesitated and put on his most polite language, "might I ask, to whom it is I am speaking...?"

The young man laughed. "Oh, my apologies! I must have let my excitement get the better of me. I am Lord Alexander Wolf."

Lord? At this age? Alexander's face was so youthful Nate doubted that he was much older than himself. "I...I see."

Alexander chuckled. "You are surprised? I regret to say that my father, rest his soul, took ill after the former doctor Bergmann. Without the doctor's estimable skills, however, he was lost. I pray his spirit is at rest."

A twang of memory at the name Bergmann. Nate’s mentor had mentioned the very same name many times before - an old friend, a widower who moved to Altkreis with his children some time ago. "That is unfortunate. Is there anyone currently suffering from this disease?"

"Of course not," said Alexander. "Altkreis is careful. You mustn't worry. We know the value of seclusion. The first cough my father gave, we put him to strict bed rest. The same went for Doctor Bergmann. As you can see," he spread his hands, "Altkreis did not live so long in such conditions without relying on caution at all times."

"I see. Where will I be staying?"

Alexander folded his hands within his cloak. "While we inspect Doctor Bergmann's old residence, you may stay here. We have a guest room. It hasn't been used in a while, but it is perfectly clean."

"Inspect?" Nate asked.

Alexander shrugged. "As I said, Altkreis relies on caution. We would not like our doctor's stay here to be an uncomfortable or an unpleasant one. It is bad luck to stay in a residence with the shadow of death hanging over it. You will be notified of dinner." He stood aside. A servant revealed herself from behind a door, her eyes facing downward. "Your maid, Charlotte Bergmann, will escort you to your room."

Nate furrowed his eyebrows. "Bergmann?"

"The doctor's children work here," said Alexander with a disarming smile. "He had no objections. He was a close friend of my father's and saw nothing wrong with having his children in the care of the Alexanders after his death."

Charlotte walked up to Nate. She was short, and very young - Nate estimated no more than fourteen. She bowed, quick and stiff. "Please follow me."
"I will see you," said the lord with a wave, "at dinner."

Nate nodded and followed his maid, who took him through musty corridors and unused drawing rooms, winding a circuitous path around the building. Nate tried to keep track of the way as much as possible, but the house was so winding, its turns so many, he soon gave up. Eventually Charlotte stopped at a door and pulled it open with a groaning creak.

"Here is your room," said Charlotte.

It was uninspiring - its size closet-like, its furnishings spare. It had a small, plain bed and an empty cabinet. Nicked wood skirted the walls. There were no windows. Nate sniffed the air. It smelt of greasy candles.

"It is," Nate found the word, "lovely."

Charlotte gave an unladylike snort. Nate glanced at her. Away from Lord Alexander, Charlotte had adopted a slouched, sullen pose.

"Better than my room," Charlotte said. "Same size and I have to share it with my brother."

"Younger or older?"

Charlotte shook her head. "We're twins. Anyways, you better get ready. The dinner will be starting soon." She glanced up and down Nate's traveling clothes. "By the way, you will have to dress better than that. Lord Alexander," Charlotte pronounced the name with distaste, "wants elegance."

"Well, I suppose he is a lord," said Nate. "I have clothes."

Charlotte gave him a dour look. "Do you require any more assistance?"

"No, that will be all. I can manage myself."

Charlotte nodded. "If you need me, pull the rope, here," Charlotte indicated its location. "You won't hear a thing, but it leads to a bell in my room."

"The noise?"

"Altkreis is a village of silence, but Lord Alexander can do whatever he wants within the privacy of his home. The architecture of this building mimics the mountain nodes."

"I see."

"Be careful," said Charlotte as she turned to leave.

"Careful?" Of what?

Charlotte sighed. "Instead of 'be well' when we leave, we villagers say 'be careful'. It's how things are done around here, doctor." Charlotte said the title with a hint of sarcasm. "Enjoy your stay."



Nate did not pack much, and as he unpacked, he thought back on home. What circuitous road led him to this icy village located nowhere? The weather changed from clement to hostile the farther he traveled. If it wasn't for his mentor being a friend of Doctor Bergmann since youth, Nate would never have ended up here.

He allowed a small ember of resentment in his heart before snuffing it. It wouldn't be so bad, he hoped. He would have five years to be a practicing doctor, and once he returns to the world below, his mentor promised a high position in his practice. This location of Altkreis, Nate admitted, was not optimal. However, other locations had their own drawbacks. At least here, he had the solitude to study, to read, to take in the cold beauty of the mountain. The cold and silence will prevent him from falling to idleness.

Nate was in the middle of unpacking his books when his door slid open courtesy of a young boy with the same face as Charlotte's. He looked solemnly at his books, then at his clothes.

"Dinner will be ready soon," he said. "Please change into something suitable for the occasion."

"Where's your sister?" Nate asked, getting up to his feet.

"Helping set the table." The boy bowed. "I am Charles Bergmann, at your service. I trust ten minutes is enough time for you to prepare?"



Dinner was in a long room, at a long table. There was a festive spirit in the air, Lord Alexander seated at the head and laughing along with some joke his friend made when Nate entered. Alexander saw him, smiled, and Nate was led to his seat by a silent and expressionless Charles. The table was empty of food.

"It will be coming soon," said Alexander, seeing the unspoken question in Nate's eyes. "Now, may I introduce you to some of the eminent personages of the village?"

In the minutes that followed, as the food was served, Alexander fired off a rapid list of names. Seated across from Nate was Jacob Horn, and on his sides were Finn Bower and Ben Brandt. Along with Finn, a Leon Walter was also seated next to Lord Alexander, and Nate guessed accordingly that he and Finn were close friends of his.

"So," said Leon with a friendly smile, "how are you finding Altkreis?"

Nate considered. "The cold is...salubrious."

Leon laughed. "Damned by faint praise. What was it that did you in? The silence?"

"Altkreis is a merry enough place in the nodes and in homes modeled after the nodes. It is only outside where the policy of silence is enforced," said Ben. “Now. I mean no offense, but you seem rather young to be teaching medicine.”

"That is strange," Finn turned a cold glare at Nate. "And, with no experience, he is sent up here to teach me? How are we to know if his power over medicine is sufficient?"

Alexander smiled his friendly smile and answered for Nate. "He comes with the highest recommendations from the Blackwells, and you know the reputation they have in medicine. He has studied under them for years, and to add on to that, he is the son of an eminent scholar himself. I have every confidence in our new doctor's abilities. He may be young, but I have been assured that he is gifted and capable."

A moth flew drunken circles around a candle flame.

"We shall see," Finn frowned, "if these recommendations are legitimate, or the result of family loyalty."

"Why so suspicious?" Leon asked. "You should be happy that such a skilled...what was the word...Locusta is giving you lessons in the art of medicine."

"Locusta is incorrect," Jacob said. "I believe you were searching for 'Hippocrates'."

Leon gave a grandiloquent shrug. "Locusta, Hippocrates, what is the difference? Honestly, Jacob, get your head out of books. As long as your words sound pretty enough, no one cares what they mean."

Alexander, smiling blandly, intervened. "Let's not talk of long-dead Greeks. Might we have some music to cheer our dinner? We want our guest to be impressed."

"Let's!" Leon said. "The nightingale's singing is divine."

Nate's curiosity was piqued. He did not expect a village as notorious for its cold and silence as Altkreis to have a bird as delicate and musical as a nightingale. "A nightingale, you say?"

Leon smiled. "A very rare and beautiful creature."

Alexander gave orders to a servant. The moth circled ever closer to the flame.

"The nightingale," said Ben, "is indeed one of Altkreis' greatest treasures. Her voice is sublime."

Charlotte and Charles entered the room and bowed simultaneously, with Charles straightening up first to speak. "What song does Lord Alexander wish us to play?"

Alexander shrugged. "Surprise me."

The twins glanced at each other and walked over to a double door on the right side of the room, Charlotte stepping lightly around a piano. They opened it. The room collectively held its breath as a girl glided into the room.

Nate stared - though he couldn't see much from where he sat, he saw enough. Long, blonde hair, skin as pure as the snow outside. However, what struck Nate the most was her face. It was predictably beautiful, but her face was incredibly similar to Alexander’s - almost the same.
This girl had to be the nightingale spoken of earlier; she could not have been anything else.

"Ah, I see our doctor is speechless," Alexander said with a smile.

"She bears a resemblance to you," Nate said.

Alexander's smile faded. "Yes. It is quite a coincidence."

The girl was speaking to Charlotte and Charles, so quietly Nate could not hear a single word from any of their mouths. Then, with a final nod on all sides, Charlotte sat herself at the piano and played a single note. It echoed mournfully in the room. The girl called the nightingale turned to face the audience. She was so still, almost like a statue, that Nate was startled when he saw the girl take a breath.

That startle, however, was nothing compared to when the girl began to sing. The song, her voice, was dreamlike, ephemeral. Nate was speechless. Coffee was poured. Nate drank without knowing he was drinking, his senses caught by the music. He wished he could bottle up the sound so that he could take it out and listen to it again, wished he could preserve the beauty of it.

But the beauty, thought Nate as the song wound down to an end, is in its transience.

"I think," said Alexander, proud and smug, "that that is enough music for tonight."

The girl nodded and bowed, along with the twins, and exited the room, leaving Nate fever-dazed.



The rest of the dinner was a blur.

"Our doctor's mind is addled by the nightingale's song, I see," said Lord Alexander with a knowing smile.

"It is enchanting," said Finn.

"Poor Finn! I see he is moonstruck by the nightingale as well," laughed Leon.

"She is," Finn admitted, "beautiful."

Ben smiled indulgently. "Beautiful, yes, very. But ultimately, unobtainable. I advise you to rid yourself of any romantic delusions you may have."

"Why is she unobtainable?" Finn asked.

There was a silence in the room as the men looked at each other. It was Lord Alexander who answered, with an amiable smile. "The nightingale, my friend, suffers from a curse."

"A curse? In this day and age?"

Alexander's smile did not dim. "Sometimes, beauty can only be seen and appreciated from afar. Sometimes, it is the best way."

A curse, the doctor thought. Perhaps a genetic defect? However…

Finn frowned. "But what makes you think that? Beauty is beauty, no matter where you are."

...both Lord Alexander and the nightingale appear undeformed.

"My, he is moonstruck," Leon laughed. "Let me tell you, my friend, that there is no better cure for love than commitment."

The problem, then, must lie elsewhere.

"Leon must," Jacob flicked a crumb from his nail, expression bored, "write a book of his astounding epithets."

A beauty who can only be seen and appreciated from afar, Nate recalled.

"Duly noted, and already done," said Leon. "Finding a publisher is the difficult part."

What is it, then, that can only be seen up close that is so repulsive?

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blue squares
Sep 28, 2007

I said I would read your story, and I did my best. I really did. Finishing it was a struggle, and I skimmed the last third. I have some good things and some bad things to say.

Disclaimer: I do not like fantasy at all, so I'm already far from your target audience.

Good things:
  • You know how to make sentences! No, seriously, some people here fail completely in the basics. You write fairly well, if clunky at times. I think it is clear you know what you are doing and further revision to tighten things up will fix most issues.
  • "The village was completely silent when Nate and Finn reached it. Thick, windowless buildings squatted close to the ground, as though afraid the wind would blow them away. Thick icicles hung from eaves. The ground was a pure, untouched white. It felt as though the village was holding its breath; a town of ghosts." This is really good.
  • The premise of a town under an avalanche-prone town, required to be silent, is interesting. Though highly unrealistic. Hard to imagine no one ever dropped something or made a noise by accident.

The bad:
  • I don't like how you start your story. A LOT (a lot a lot) of fantasy stories do this: the main character is conscripted or otherwise forced by outside actors into his or her present situation. Readers are naturally drawn into stories where the events are somewhat under the main character's control. I'm sick of reading stories where the main character simply reacts to events.
  • Stylistically, there were several superfluous sentences that only slowed things down without telling the reader anything. Examples grabbed at random:
    • Nate took a step, then another, until he reached the man.
    • Then, without a word, he left in the direction of a closely clustered group of ramshackle cabins.
    • He looked solemnly at his books, then at his clothes.
  • There was no central problem, nothing to make me want to keep reading. You said this was the beginning of a longer story, so maybe that's why, but as a standalone piece I was really bored. If there is a conflict coming, consider introducing it earlier. This is the most important thing I can recommend.


sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









Cut the first ten paras and start with "Snow blurred the edges of the trees,"

It reads much better.

blue squares
Sep 28, 2007

I think you can sum up Seb's and my crit as: get to the point.

Grizzled Patriarch
Mar 27, 2014

These dentures won't stop me from tearing out jugulars in Thunderdome.



Definitely agree that cutting those first ten paragraphs reads much better.

You don't have any glaring issues with grammar / syntax, which is probably the most rampant issue in CC. A little more variety in sentence structure would make for a more interesting read, I think: almost all of your lines start with "the," "he," or a character's name. You start out with some decent variety, but it got more noticeable the more I read. Still, that's not a bad problem to have compared to needing to learn how to string a sentence together or something.

Your dialogue does feel a bit stilted, very "stereotypical fantasy dialogue" in places. I would focus on ditching the five-dollar words and making your dialogue more grounded. I'm not a big fantasy reader, so I'm not sure where that whole trend started, but it always felt off to me. Most of your dialogue is between characters that are probably educated, so it's not as glaring as all the stories where some backwater bumpkin has a postgraduate vocabulary, but even educated people don't really talk like that in informal settings (well, the tolerable ones don't).

So a line like this:

quote:

The guard grunted. "This village doesn't need a doctor, it needs an avalanche."

This is good. This is something I'd expect some poor, probably illiterate guard to say. That's dialogue with some character to it.

Stuff like this:

quote:

"Now, may I introduce you to some of the eminent personages of the village?"

quote:

"The cold is...salubrious."

Just feels excessive, like something I'd expect to see in LotR fanfic.

Other than that, I definitely agree that the conflict needs to be established earlier and more clearly. Too much time passes before any kind of action happens. You've got this cool setting (even if it doesn't really hold up to close scrutiny, personally I don't care) but you don't do much with it. It doesn't feel like there's any real tension or stakes at play.

And as a final side note, I'm a bit confused on the setting. There's obvious fantasy elements, but you've got a place called Altkreis, which is an actual German word that basically means "old district." Then you bring in Locusta and Hippocrates. Is this supposed to be like an alternate history with fantasy elements? It kind of feels like it's caught between being a fictional world and a historical one, which doesn't quite work for me.

Akarshi
Apr 23, 2011

Whoa, lots of stuff here! Great to wake up to in the morning. Thank you, everyone!

Glad that I know how to write sentences. Anyways, you're right - the main character is definitely a very passive guy, and I should probably give him more agency in the story as opposed to him passively going to this village because his mentor told him to.

Thanks for pointing out the superfluous sentences. I definitely have a problem with those, and I have a hard time picking them out generally. I'll have to give this a read to clear it through.

As for introducing the conflict earlier, you're right -- now that I look over it, nothing really happens this early in the story other than 'arrive at village, meet people'. I'll probably have to introduce more strangeness, or at least get across that Nate is totally trapped in the village and literally cannot leave earlier, along with hinting that the previous doctor and previous mayor/lord was killed or something more.

sebmojo posted:

Cut the first ten paras and start with "Snow blurred the edges of the trees,"

It reads much better.
Whoa, didn't even think of cutting that out, but yeah definitely. I thought that perhaps some explanation of what the village is is necessary, but the other characters later on explain what the village is like anyways, as well as what Nate is doing there. And it would definitely help with pacing.

Variety in sentence structure - gotcha. To improve that, I guess I'll have to read more and see how other authors vary their sentence structure? Or at least just be more consciously aware of it.

Gotcha. Yeah, the dialogue in this story is definitely weird - I was sort of going for an 'everyone other than that guard and the servants is pompous and insufferable because they're overcompensating for their lovely village' feeling, but I can see that it would be way too much and stilted, and you're right that people aren't really going to be talking like that in an informal setting anyways. I will for sure work on making the dialogue more grounded.

In regards to the setting...I guess I was going for a sort of surrealness? As in, this is some really weird village in our world. Nothing magical or supernatural actually happens in this story, which I most likely did not get across very well with all the curse talk later on, or perhaps even with the central premise of the story? I suspect that maybe this is related to my not establishing the conflict sooner too.

But yeah - thank you everyone for the critiques, these are really helpful and I'll definitely keep all of these in mind when reworking/rewriting the story.

Akarshi fucked around with this message at 17:28 on Nov 23, 2014

blue squares
Sep 28, 2007

The best way to catch repetitive sentence structure is to read it out loud. Especially if you have someone else willing to listen to you, like a boyfriend/girlfriend that you can make a captive audience. You'll notice little stuff right away.

Grizzled Patriarch
Mar 27, 2014

These dentures won't stop me from tearing out jugulars in Thunderdome.



To me, it seemed like there were elements of "magical realism" with the nightingale and mention of the curse at the end. The whole idea of a village that can't make noise is also pretty neat, even if it isn't realistic. Partly it was the name that threw me off, since it sounds very much like a fantasy name and I wasn't sure if it was just coincidental that you named it that despite it being an actual word.

Aside from the mention of Locusta and Hippocrates, there just isn't much to indicate that it's meant to be set in our world. If you want a surreal tone, you might have to make it more clear that is a "real" place. It's probably hard to pull that off in a short story, though. Off the top of my head, Gabriel Garcia Marquez has Macondo as a recurring setting in a few of his stories, and Faulker has Yoknapatawpha County. However, they had the benefit of building up a history / mythology of these places across multiple stores and novels.

If you can find the short story "Big Mama's Funeral" online anywhere, that's a pretty good example of creating a fictional place in the real world within the confines of a short story. Marquez draws in a lot of details from real places, like mentioning neighboring countries that actually exist, and even having the pope show up at one point. It feels very organic, and it has that same hint of something being not quite right that you are going for.

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Akarshi
Apr 23, 2011

blue squares posted:

The best way to catch repetitive sentence structure is to read it out loud. Especially if you have someone else willing to listen to you, like a boyfriend/girlfriend that you can make a captive audience. You'll notice little stuff right away.
Thanks for the advice! I'll see if any of my friends are willing to hear me drone on, lol, or I can record myself and play it back to see if anything sounds weird.

I see, thanks! In regards to the name, I chose it on purpose, yeah. I wanted it to be like a weird, old, Germanic mountain village. Anyways, I'll see if I can find "Big Mama's Funeral", especially since I've been planning on reading more Marquez.

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