Hey there! I'm bopping along with "Anniversary Reviews" , and I noticed your item on the "Please Review" page and remembered that you were on the list of WdCers celebrating account anniversaries this month. Happy Account Anniversary!
I really like the ideas in this story. I'm about burned out on the magic mentor and mentee sort of plot line, but there's enough here to make it fresh and interesting and for that, I applaud you. Nameless intrigues me and Fred's will to learn draws me in.
But it feels like it's missing flesh, keeping the story from being a cohesive whole. I have some thoughts/suggestions that, even if you hate them, might get your mind working in a productive direction—or might do nothing more than tell you exactly what you don't want for this story, and sometimes that's helpful, too.
In any case, my review method is to grab lines from your story and spill my impressions all over them.
The old man grabbed Fred by the leather sleeve.
So here's one of the big things I have to say about the overall story. I think it might pull the story together much more effectively if, instead of this old man, it was Fred's wife who was trying to deter him from going. We don't actually meet her until after there's been all this conversation about her between Nameless and Fred, and that made her feel less real. Meanwhile, this old man isn't actually important to the story at all; he never shows up again. If this was Fred's wife with him in this scene, though, I imagine it will be more emotionally charged, plus we'll have met her when the conversations about Nameless going to her as Fred come up; if we'd met her when that stuff came up, the stakes would be higher. They'd be talking about someone we'd met and, hopefully, sympathized with. You know what I mean?
Now, otherwise, I was curious about what was going on and where he was going, and why. All very good stuff! I actually grinned when the magic came up, and Fred used some of it.
Something I feel like is missing, though, is what's the turning point? What made Fred head of now to learn from Nameless, rather than sooner or, for that matter, later or even never? I don't necessarily think that's something that has to be answered here, but depending on his reasoning, it could be. And if this was his wife rather than the old man, there might be an even easier way to introduce that information. (Knowing his reasoning ups the stakes as far as our impression goes. It makes it easier to sympathize and get drawn into the story/character. )
"You got a gift, not a calling."
You have a lot of lines of dialogue that are just pure entertainment. I love this one.
The sorcerer, Nameless Felman, strode out of the shadows behind the twisted iron gate.
This is a good description; I wish there were a lot more of them. A lot of this story feels like it's taking place in empty space; it was a long time before I realized there was a house there—that Nameless even lived in a house. I also was never really sure how to picture the world around them—to get a feel for it. Now, I enjoy stories with both minimalist and rich settings, and this definitely seems to be the former—but even at a minimal, there should be enough description to let the mind movie fill in the rest, and I had a hard time getting that in your story.
And what a wonderfully ominous opening line from the tale's sorcerer! I enjoyed this whole first exchange between them, especially Fred undoing the lock and Nameless's servant redoing it.
The voice resonated, vibrating Fred's sinuses.
Man, I felt that in my sinuses. Awesome.
Fred had seen the way horses leap about before finally accepting the rider; anger is the final sign
I see why you flopped tenses and wrote the present tense, “leap” and “is” here, but stick with past tense keeps the writing more “invisible.” Flopping tenses makes me see the words again, rather than keeping my mind engaged. Truthfully, though, I probably wouldn't have noticed the “is” if it hadn't been for the “leap.”
Only four times per year did anybody brave this road, plus the day of a given funeral.
From here until the dialogue that caps off this paragraph gives me the kind of information that makes me think I need to sit up and pay attention because it'll be important later. Now that I'm back after having read this story, though, I realize that this information is strictly there to negate Nameless mentioning “all his visitors.” And so the point, it's too much explanation for a joke, unless you're going to use all this specific information later in the story—that “four times per year” sound formal, you see, like there are four holidays for which folks venture up here. (It's in the wording and mood here, but I'm at a loss to describe it better than that. ) Also, that “given funeral” makes it sound like there was one solitary funeral for which folks sought out Nameless, and that it's of interest, and that we'll find out later whose funeral it was and why they sought Nameless out for it.
And the sentence after this one sounds hugely specific, like we're really getting introduced to information for later, and getting hooked for it—who are the four people plus one? Why do they go up the hill? Why chance it if they think Nameless will do unmentionable things to them? Etc. Awesome hook, if that's what you were going for, but it never goes anywhere.
You see where I'm going here? Where all the extra info sent me? If you're not going to use it, if all you really wanted to do was explain the joke, then you need far less information to do it. And, really, you don't need the narration to call it a joke. Keep it simple, so that it blends in with the rest of your narration and, therefore, doesn't look like a hook. For example (and this is hugely oversimplified and off the cuff and, therefore, not anything I'm super proud of or expect you to use; I'm just trying to give a better picture of what I mean): Fred laughed. He was probably Nameless's first visitor since before his father's time. “You can't scare me.”
the sun rose and set before Fred tried once again to open the lock.
A few things here are making me feel removed from this; this information doesn't feel complete. Because it's just told and not shown, it doesn't feel quite real. (Now, there are definitely times to just tell a thing rather than showing it and move on with the story, for the sake of pacing and other things, so don't think I'm vying for everything to be shown—just the things that make it feel like the story is incomplete.)
The reason, I think, that it's feeling incomplete is because it seems like he was just in stasis for that time, but we as human beings know he couldn't have been. He had to've gotten thirsty, hungry, bored; surely he had to pee, at the very least, and that seems like an uncomfortable thing to have to do at someone's gate. It's hard to imagine he didn't try the lock again during any of that time, but if he didn't, it just seems like there would have been an internal struggle to not check it or a reasoning behind there not being an internal struggle if there wasn't.
And it's not like all these things have to be addressed, but addressing a couple of them will make the story more real, and make Fred a more sympathizable character, and those things draw readers further into a story.
"If I leave, I cannot return for another year."
Why a year? I read onward, content that this would probably be explained in some subtle way, but it wasn't.
I do really enjoy their exchange here, and the test of the food. This is something, though, that goes back to the showing of the night and day he waited at the gate, though; showing that bit makes it more real, and makes his hunger/thirst more real here, and makes us better feel his struggle to turn down this offer of sustenance. (And, really, you could probably accomplish what you want with only him staying there a day. Though you could also up the stakes by having Nameless come out with his tray after a day, then leaving Fred out there another day—and showing Fred's decline because of lack of water, mainly, but also food. That might put more words in here than you want, but it doesn't have to be a huge amount of wordage and, plus, it makes us more invested in the story when we're fully feeling the stakes.
I hope any bit of that made sense. Sometimes, when I'm trying to get my thoughts across they wind around and just circle empty space.
"You have learned something." He bit into the apple,
Bahahaha! This in reply to “You are a cruel man, not worthy of respect.” Just another great example of the quips in this story that are so highly entertaining. You also tied in the trope of the insufferable dude eating an apple and that made me grin. (I can't remember where I saw it, but it was an article about irritating people eating apples in fiction. The article focused on movies and TV shows, but still.)
"No more necromancy.
This was cool! This is an example, too, of a moment in a story that makes me pause in a good way. (Hey, sometimes you pause when you don't want to in order to work something out that should have been easier in the story, ay?) But this was the kind of pause that made me go, “Oh! So the servants are like ghosts! And the food was like the ghost of food!”
It was just a neat little feeling—jolt—while reading.
through halls lit by candles
Ohhh, I didn't remember this mention of “halls” at all. I would still like to be able to picture the dwelling beyond the gate much sooner, though, to get a better bearing on Fred's surroundings. Even here, I still have no idea what the outside looks like—if it's imposing (which I assume it is) and in what way, etc.
In the center there was a stone bed with shackles on it.
I love the description of the roses, but this coming right after it the way it does made me think that the “In the center” was going to be in the center of one of the roses. Might need to rearrange the description of the courtyard and the roses a little.
And I like that Fred immediately voices a concern about being a sacrifice, because I totally thought “altar” when I pictured the stone “bed,” too. And then, of course, Nameless calls it an altar.
"Your bones have more wisdom than your mind."
Oh, great line!
such that they would bear crops before the harvest."
Heyyyy, I did not notice the word choice until rereading. We only find out much later that the land is dead, but right here he says “would” instead of “will,” and that seems to be a subtle foreshadowing clue. Nice!
"As I have sold away my name, so you will surrender your face and your seeming."
It took me an embarrassing long time to realize that this was the price for failing to farm the land as instructed. I thought it was just more rules before learning magic; learning magic meant he would have to sell his name and surrender his face and seeming. And the reason I thought these were further requirements for learning magic (rather than the cost of failing to farm the land) was that Nameless is, you know Nameless, and we have no idea what he looks like; he's always under that robe and cowl. And he knows his magic, so it just seemed that losing your name and your face was what you had to do in order to master magic, and that would be why you went around in a robe and cowl all the time.
Now what I'm wondering, and what I wish the story would reveal at some point, is if Nameless has a face or not. And, if it doesn't, which is what I'm assuming now, then is he without name or face because he failed his own apprenticeship? Or, alternately, did he sell his name for some other reason, lose his face (if it is lost) some other way, and he's only making this threat of taking Fred's name and face/seeming because he, himself, has lost his own?
I think, no matter which of those things is true, it's fascinating, and will take this story to the next level if explored in the tale.
Love this “sold away his name” in any case, by the way. Reminds me of tales of the fae/faery/what-have-you and the importance of true names in that folklore.
your farm, your children, your wife.
Holy mess, I forgot he had children. That also makes me wonder if I'm wrong to picture such a young man—he's twenty-ish, in my head. Certainly plenty old in some cultures/worlds to have children, but it's not a default impression. I'd suggest cutting the children out of the story since that only involves cutting the word out. Making the kids truly be there would be much more work, and I think you have plenty of stakes for the main character in just the existence of the wife.
"I will do it."
I admire his will to go through with this, but I feel like we're missing some depth to this decision. Leading up to this line, it's all nothing but dialogue; no deeper narration to let us know how Fred is actually feeling leading up to this.
My other worry is that when Nameless cuts off his hands, it doesn't seem real. Fred reacts with words, and there's that bit about the sensation of ice then fire, but none of that captures the trauma of having some guy cut off your hands. You know what I mean?
Now, honestly, I'm not sure I want that. I'd rather move on with the story than have this pain and betrayal made to feel more real, and to have the recovery from such a traumatic amputation feel real. You have magic in this world, and a necromancer, so in my head, it should be possible for Nameless to remove his hands without a lingering pain, and without a length recovery. The stumps could still be sore, so as to give him the hardships pushing the plow that you need, but you wouldn't have a need for dragging the story into further pain and recovery, you know?
the cold of the iron pushed into his wrists and down,
Hey, another parallel with faery stuff—they have trouble with iron, too.
It does make me wonder, though, what the lock on the gate was made of.
I like the evolution from here until he figures out what to do to sow the seeds in the end. I had thought he'd do something like he does out of anger—when he drives that rock so that it makes a furrow. I'd love to see him think of that, try it even, and see that it expends too much energy as well.
"Sometimes I speak as clearly as I should."
I love this and also what he says right after it.
Trouble your widow no more."
These two actually made me wonder if he was dead somehow, and I'd missed it.
It also feels strange that Fred doesn't have any thoughts about this man who's with his wife. Wouldn't he know him? Wouldn't he be angry that it seems this man has moved in on his wife, exactly as Nameless has threatened to do should Fred fail? It seems odd that none of this is addressed.
"Behind this door I am an intruder, or guest. At your will."
Man, I do love the way he talks.
No man planted a single seed after his father called no harvest, and Fred if anything had been still better.
Since this ability is where the story gets its name (well, part of where), it feels half-done that we only find out about it here. I'd definitely mention this ability much earlier in the story, and remind us that it exists at least one other time besides that, before this moment.
Very cool detail and ability.
It's odd; I see the arc of the story and the end does seem like the end of that arc, and yet the manner of the writing of it makes it feel like it's not really The Stopping Place. I almost want to say it trails off more than ends, but the manner of this story seems like a “trailing off” sort of ending would fit. But the writing should still say, “The story goes on, but here's where the writing of it naturally ends.” Does that make sense?
I don't really have any suggestions because at least a hundred things should/could work, and any that I come up with will be so very much in my own style that they'd be useless to you. There's always the method of capping off some dialogue from earlier in the story, alluding back to it with better understanding. Or being witty about it, which would fit your characters. That's the method that comes to mind best, but it's far from the only way to do it.
I love the title of this story, and that it eludes to Fred's ability, the deadline for planting and for his testing. And that there'll be no harvest, since the land is dead and so is his old life. It's got all these deeper meanings, when one muses on it, and that's my favorite kind of title. (And one that I am terrible at coming up with for my own work.)
A really cool story, with entertaining characters. Especially Nameless. I'm glad I got to read it, and I hope that my rambling and bumbling about through it aren't more distraction than help.
If you need me to clarify anything about this review, from my terrible ideas to my inevitable typos, please let me know. And also let me know if there was anything you hoped a reviewer would go over, but that I failed to mention. Anything else, too; I'm a glutton for post-review discussion.
Chy |