Title: "Kellryia - Chapter 1 - Revised 6/14/10" 
Author: Goldfish  
Plot: Ms. Kerr is dragged through space and time and plopped in a universe where Ella decides she needs to figure out what she’s doing here and sets the guards after finding her. Ms. Kerr tries to find refuge by finding work.
Style & Voice: Past tense 1st person.
Referencing: In the line by lines.
Scene/Setting: Aldenshire, a gothic feeling town in an alternative reality.
Characters: Lilian Kerr, modern day girl who has been dragged along into this reality. Ethan – her boyfriend in modern era. Ella – potentially evil church lady. Monks – have healing powers. Mrs. Salisbury – a seamstress who harbors Lillian.
Grammar:a few notes in the line by lines.
Just My Opinion: Please don’t take any of this personally. I am not trying to be mean or say your story sucks by any stretch of the imagination. These are all just my opinions on ways to make your story better. Take from them what you will, and please read with an open mind.
Okay. We have a few problems with this story. You have a modern day woman being sucked through time/space/universes and plopped somewhere else. Yet she knows exactly how to function in this new place. She knows the language, customs, etc.
Also, I hate to say it, but these characters that are pulled from real world present day, are in first person, and are plopped into a new world are in HIGH risk of being Mary Sue-rific. It is something to remain conscious of throughout the story.
You start with a memory composed almost entirely of passive voice. You have a lot of passive voice throughout the piece. Lots of point blank narration. There are a lot of jumps of understanding that don’t feel organic.
You have a few continuity issues. I get the drift you plan to show she knows this world for some reason, but unless she feels an instinctual understanding of everything, you need to explain how she knows what she knows. Wouldn’t she question herself as to why she knows all the ins and outs of culture here?
That being said, I am intrigued to see what the story is. You have intriguing characters towards the end, and I really enjoy your dialogue. It shows a lot of promise. I look forward to reading more.
Line by Line:
This next section does not belong at the beginning of your chapter. It gives away too much information, and should be a separate piece, perhaps with the title “Back cover description” or “book description”.
When Lillian Kerr wakes up in a world she thinks doesn't exist, she automatically believes she is dreaming. But after several days in this world, she begins to question her reasoning.
After a chance meeting with a mysterious man, The Bard, he offers to become her partner in crime as they run across the continent, trying to escape the forces that know her secret - that she's not from their world.
But when Lillian thinks she knows how to get home, the only thing from stopping her from returning is The Bard.
Chapter 1
I’m dead. There’s no way I survived that. I was lying down, unable to move, inside of what appeared to be a church, with people standing over me, melancholy organ music playing in the background. Yeah, I’m totally dead.
This may be a bit harsh, but this is my advice. I would cut this memory sequence. It is not a good hook and it makes me not want to read any more. It reads in a boring manner because it is (I hate to say it) boring. You told me she’s dead and in a church. THAT is interesting. Tell me more about that! That being said, I would cut this to later on (I’ll point out where when we get to it). Also, I would love to see this in active voice. Don’t make it a memory, make it a flashback. This is action packed! This sounds freakishly awesome, but at the moment it reads very dull.
The last thing I could remember was my boyfriend, Ethan, shouting at me, telling me to come back out of the cave I was exploring. As I pondered what his problem was, my foot slipped from under me, and my arms flailed about me, trying to stop my fall. I saw my cell phone fall under me and it shined onto nothing. There were no cavern walls or a floor in sight. The light of the phone went out and then it was complete darkness. As much as I feared the dark ordinarily, I loathed it now. How was I to prepare myself if I couldn’t see where I’d be landing?
(this is a potential rewrite to a more active voice. Definitely not the end all be all, just a suggestion. )
Ethan shouted, “Come out of that cave!”
What was his problem? As I turned to yell back at him, my foot slipped out from under me and my arms flailed as I tried to stop my fall. My cell phone fell out of my pocket and spun beneath me, shining onto nothing. The cavern walls and floor had disappeared. The light of the phone went out, leaving complete darkness.
My hands scraped along the rock wall, but it was too smooth to find a handhold. I screamed as I flipped over myself, meeting nothing but air, but I didn’t know what good that would do me now, besides letting Ethan’s family know that I was about to die.
It felt like I was floating in outer space. I had no sense of how fast I was falling due to the darkness, but the air around me seemed to move slower. I saw a faint glowing below me, similar to a distant star. Slowly it became colorful and brighter as I fell towards it. After a few more moments I noticed the rotation of it, like a black hole, sucking me towards it.
A faint high pitch sound met my ears, growing louder and louder as I was pulled into the swirling light. Pressure surrounded me, compressing my body painfully. My screams of agony mingled with the screeching siren.
I prepared myself for death as I was upon being sucked inside the black hole. My bones snapped and my muscles ripped apart with the force of pressure the black hole caused. The resulting pain was nothing I had ever experienced, nothing like my worst cramp. Having never broken a bone before, this was a brand new kind of pain I experienced. My ears went deaf and the light blinded my eyes. I then wished for a swift death, wanting to end the pain.
end the cut here for moving to later on in the chapter
Now inside a church, I blinked up at the people looking over me. If I had died, why did the faces above me look so relieved? Why were they smiling? And most of all, why didn’t I recognize them? Where was Ethan?
I moved my eyes about the space. The ceilings were arched aslike the old cathedrals were that were built during the gothic period which were held up by large stone columns. The people around me were dressed in plain brown robes, similar to the monks at St. Catherine’s of Mount Sinai we studied in art history class, which was built around 560 A.D.
Started new paragraphLast time I checked, there wasn’t an order of monks in Cleveland.
In the back of my mind, the thought that I was at some satanic ritual formed. Men in robes, check. Sacrificial altar, check. Virgin, check.
My theory of a virgin sacrifice left my head when I realized I wasn’t bound, that I could move. Swiping my long dark hair out of my eyes, my palm stung with the contact. My skin had been scraped badly, as if I braced myself from a fall. Inspecting the rest of me, I saw that I was still wearing what I had put on earlier, before my unpleasant fall: Black snow boots, dark blue jeans, a green wool sweater, and a black zip-up winter coat. However, there was a rip in the pants at the knee and there were splatters of wet red blood all over my clothing.
“Where am I?” I asked the men around me, my heart racing from the confusion I was feeling. “Am I dead?”
Smiling amongst themselves, one of them shook his head and said, “You’re in Alton’s cathedral, in Aldenshire.”
One of the monk’s hands passed over me, glowing brightly as he said a short prayer, a symbol in his hand. But iIt wasn’t one I recognized. The symbol was a crescent moon inside a sun that surrounded the silhouette of a mace. It glowed brightly and I felt it emanating heat, burning my wounds and realigning my muscles and bones, as if by magic. (Woah woah woah woah woah. If she had that much soft tissue and structural damage, scraped skin would NOT be the pain she noticed. Broken bones grate when you move, ligament damage is the most painful thing next to childbirth, and torn muscles ache like nobody’s business, even feeling like burning. If she’s in such bad shape, let us know with the pain she feels before hand.) This caused me to cry out in pain, but it was soon over, and I felt my strength returning.
“What just happened?” I was in a daze still, and witnessing my wounds disappearing before my eyes wasn’t helping. Nothing around me made any sense.
“The blessings of Alton have healed your wounds, my daughter.”
Apparently lasers shooting out from a holy man’s wood carving had fixed me. At this point I wasn’t too sure that I wasn’t dead or unconscious andor dreaming. But the mention of thethat name again reminded me to ask, “Alton?”
An expression of combined worry and confusion(what does that look like) crossed the man’s face. “Yes, my child, the god of protection and good.” Turning to one of his colleagues, I barely heard him say, “Poor thing must have hit her head very hard.”
I agreed with the man’s assessment, that I’d hit my head very hard, but it wasn’t because I didn’t recognize the god Alton. It was because this information sounded familiar. Somewhere in my mind, I believed recognized that what they said about Alton was true.
“Alton’s light shines brightly on you, Miss,” said a monk, with thinning blond hair and a round face.
“What happened to me?” I asked. I needed some sort of explanation to how I had come to be here, other than my current theory of death or coma.
“A traveling merchant passing through the Dragontail Mountains found you barely alive at the base of a cliff.” When I tried to move, he stayed me with his hand. “You must still be sore, you should rest.”
They found me at the base of a cliff? What was I doing there? “How? Why?”
“Dear, you don’t remember falling and breaking your bones?”
In fact, I did remember. I remembered falling towards a swirling vacuum and breaking my bones as I went into it. THIS is where I would insert the memory sequence. But I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t anymore. The only conclusion I could come to was that I was in some sort of dream. This had to be some sort of dream.
“No, I don’t remember anything,” I lied.
I didn’tdon’t know what happened, but goose bumps traveled along my arms. “Priestess Ella will tend to you now.” As the men moved away from my side and went upstairs, the energy in the room changeding. As much as I was thankful they were leaving, since I didn’t like being the surrounded and being the center of attention, I didn’t want to be alone with someone I didn’t know. Even though I didn’t know these monks either, I was more familiar with them than this Ella person.
A young woman approached and smiled down at me, her dark curls hanging over her shoulder while her green eyes sparkled. She wore a white dress with gold trim, similar to the style of medieval times. The neck was square with sleeves flowing out into a bell shape. Radiating purity, she said, “Hello, my name is Ella Martin, and you are?”
It was like looking into a mirror, and it was the most bizarre feeling seeing ones own replica having a conversation with you. You said she had long dark hair earlier. Twinkie here has blonde. On purpose?Her eyes were round, long lashed and the same shade of green. The slight upturn of her nose, her dimples, and even her freckles were identical. I wondered why she didn’t have the same reaction as me, and then I came up with two possibilities. Either she didn’t know what she looked like from lack of mirrors, or my own face was too bruised and swollen to recognize. Somehow I managed to say, “Lillian Kerr.”
“Nice to meet you, Lillian.” Her eyes shifted away from me for a moment, as if she heard something from across the room. “Where are you from? I’ve not seen you about Aldenshire.”
Wherever Aldenshire was, I didn’t think she’d recognize the name of the town I was from. From what I saw, the people here dressed oddly and could magically heal my injuries, so I figured they wouldn’t know of Cleveland, Ohio, or the USA. “I’m not from here,” I said, not knowing what else to say, still amazed at our likeness.
Her eyebrow rose, bothered by my vague response. “Why were you found on the pass through the Dragontail Mountains?”
I decided to be honest. “I don’t know. You probably know more about it than I do.”
This seemed to frustrate her more and (show me, don’t tell me)her eyes narrowed. “When I return, I expect some answers.” Ella turned and walked upstairs.
Even though I knew what was happening couldn’t be real, survival instincts couldn’tcan’t be controlled. I didn’t want to find out what would happen once she returned. I never was very good at improvising or lying, but was reluctant to tell her the truth because if I did if I told her the truth, she would think I was crazy. I’d rather her have a bad impression of me than think I was crazy because I had the feeling that there would be some sort of witch trial. I didn’t want mychoice in death to come down to drowning or being burned alive.
Thankfully the first floor of the cathedral was empty. I gently rose from my pallet with a slight groan and hobbled to the front door. I struggled opening it. Why did they have to make them so humungous? (you made this italics, but don’t do this with thoughts throughout the rest. Please choose one format and stick with it) With one last pull, using my whole body weight, the door opened.
Whatever I was expecting to see, it wasn’t a snow covered medieval village. I noted the thatched roof cottages that were three stories tall, and were made of half-timber construction, like in the Tudor period. This is what studying architecture got me, being able to identify what period things were from.
I stepped into an open courtyard where merchants set up their stands, selling miscellaneous things. The snow was drifting around the buildings and the riding horses stepped through to make paths for the pedestrians. The people were all dressed strangely, men wearing cloaks and leather boots, the women wearing full skirts and shawls. It was like I was at a Renaissance festival. My eyes glanced up to the blue sky, which I noted had more than one moon in it. Weird.
I immediately noticed the difficulties in my escape. One was the snow, because my tracks would be clearly visible, and the other was my appearance. I was wearing jeans and a water resistant winter coat, made of fabrics that no one else was wearing. Wouldn’t everyone be looking at her? Pointing, staring? Whispering?
Closing the door behind me, I tried to hide my face from the guards standing outside the cathedral. Once Ella realized I was gone, I was sure she would send them after me. (Why would she do that?) I needed to get out of their sight, and fast.
Breathing in the subzero air, I coughed on its dryness. Despite the inability to breathe deeply, I realized the air was clean and smelled of pine needles.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know the layout of Aldenshire whatsoever. So, I just hustled out into the marketplace and tried to blend with the others, going with the flow. I kept my eyes open for a store to buy clothing, and – wait. I couldn’t buy a thing, because I didn’t have money. And wherever I was, I didn’t think they would accept paper money. Inspecting my other possessions, I had my diamond studded earrings that Ethan had given me recently, and some other sterling silver jewelry. I could trade my coat, but I decided they would become suspicious when they discovered it had a zipper – a thing that did not exist either. HOW DOES SHE KNOW THIS?!
Hearing some shouting from the cathedral, I turned to see Ella scanning the courtyard. Her guards approached her and she gave them an order, likely to retrieve me. If she could still see Ella she’s going way too slowly, and she needs a reason to be limping along like this. Is she still sore from her healing?
I’d guessed correctly. It took a matter of seconds for their eyes to lock onto me, their arms gesturing to my location. “Stop! Get her!”
Now would be a good time to wake up, I thought.
Realizing that wasn’t happening, I hustled away from the cathedral. I knew I must stick out like a sore thumb, so getting new clothing was priority number two. The number one priority was to find a place to run and hide.
Though running would definitely cause further suspicion, if I didn’t I knew they would catch up to me. I bolted from the open area of the marketplace and down the nearest alley. The stench nearly knocked me over. The alley was full of human waste and garbage, the rats digging through the latter. I did the best I could to avoid stepping toin the muck as I dashed to the end. Taking a turn onto a street, I began to walk more naturally to blend in. Where are the guard who were just chasing her? Did they stop because of the muck?
Hustling down the main street through the snow, I searched the store names, hoping to find one that might be good for hiding. Jareth’s Sword, The Shield and Forge, Arcania’s Wands, The King’s Jewels – ah, there we go. That sounded like a jewelry store. Since I needed to sell my earrings anyway, this was as good a hiding place as any. I took a deep breath before I pushed the door open, causing a bell to jingle. The store sparkled and shimmered with all the gems and gold that lined the walls and tables. I walked toward the owner, a gnome.
“Good day, Miss,” he greeted. His springy gray hair curled around his face and his blue eyes smiled through his delicate gold-framed glasses. Climbing onto a stool on the other side of the counter, he asked, “How may I help you?” Peering at me, his eyes lingered on my jacket and my bloody jeans.
“Hello,” I said lamely. I would have to learn how to speak more like them. “I would like to see what you can offer for this.” I showed him the diamond earrings, tapping my foot impatiently.
“Hmm,” the gnome said and took the earrings into his small hands. “What is this metal? Not platinum, but similar in appearance.”
“White gold,” I said.
The gnome eyed me, “I’ve never heard of it.”
I hastily said, “It’s very new. It is combined gold and nickel to make the gold white, and yet it is very strong.” And she knows this how? The makeup of white gold is not necessarily common knowledge. Nor that it makes gold stronger.
“Hmm, interesting. That aside, the diamonds are quite nicely cut,” he said as he looked through his eyeglass. “And of good color and clarity.” Looking up at me, he said, “I’ll offer…sixty gold.”
Was gold used as currency? I had no idea how much sixty gold was, and I was entirely in too much of a hurry to counter his offer.
I mentally sighed. “Deal.”
The gnome smiled, probably out of greed. He stowed the earrings away and gathered the coins of gold. He counted out six stacks of ten coins. “There you are, Miss. Thank you.” why wouldn’t he care about her clothes? Super greedy?
I stuffed the coins into several of my pockets, noting that I needed a pouch. “Thank you,” I said, and left the store quickly. Looking in both directions I thankfully didn’t see any guards.
Clothing store, clothing store, I needed a clothing store. I hustled down the narrow path lined with stores, again searching the names. The Happy Badger Tavern, Leather and More, The Blue Dragon Inn, The Red Hat Clothiers. Ah ha! I dashed into the store and a bell alerted the owner of my presence.
A round figured lady of midlife age came forward from the back room. “Just a moment, sir,” she called over her shoulder. The woman was jittery and high strung. “How can I help you, dear?”
“Sorry,” I said. She was obviously busy. “I’d like something a little more in fashion. A dress. Something simple.”
The woman’s eyes inspected me from head to toe. “Aye, that you do.” Focusing on my jeans, she asked, “What happened, dear?”
Squirming under her gaze, I attempted to explain my appearance. “I um, had an accident.” When he eyes traveled back to my coat, I added, “I must look odd, I know. I’m a foreigner.” What is wrong with her jeans? Just lots of blood? Are they torn? Are they ripped? Are they stained from the alleyway? Where would she think she is from that a foreigner would look like her clothes? I’m sure the clothesmaster would have an idea of how to id clothing.
Approaching me, she touched the sleek fabric on my arm, creating a swishing noise. What kind of fabric is it? Polyester? Wool? Cotton? “Incredible. Too bad it’s not becoming on you whatsoever,” she said with a grimace.
Bristling from her criticism, I made a little noise of offense.
“Oh, I’m sorry dear, I meant no insult. It’s just that the thing doesn’t even fit you properly.”
I could understand what she meant. This jacket was made in China somewhere and wasn’t tailored specifically for me, like clothing would be here. How does she know what the clothing would be like here? From what she had seen? From the woman herself? “Yes, you’re right about that. That’s why I’ve come here, so I can look proper.”
Nodding, she said, “That shouldn’t be any trouble, but I won’t be able to start (tailoring her clothing)until tomorrow. I just lost my assistant, died in childbed, poor thing.”
“That’s terrible. Can I help?” I asked without hesitation. I did have some experience with sewing, although it was with cut out patterns and a sewing machine.
She looked at me carefully, certainly seeing my strange, but fine, clothes, clean hair and skin, and my well fed form. “A lady, such as you, surely…”
I interrupted her. “I am no lady, Madam.” I thought about how they would explain it. Being in my early-twenties and unmarried, a woman here in my situation would either be a spinster or a widow. The differences would be in what she looks like physically – she would look much younger than being in her early twenties comparatively. Also – how would she know this? She has not spoken to anyone but this chica, the dwarf, and the monks. I went with the latter option. “I am widowed, and have no means to live.”
Nodding, I could see she understood and that she was too busy to care much about my experience. “Until I can find a replacement, you may help. Come then, Mrs.…”
“Kerr. Lillian Kerr.” If she is trying to hide, wouldn’t she change her name? Even a little? I immediately felt relieved when I stepped into the back room. Soon I would have decent clothes, employment, and a place to hide from Ella. I knew she wouldn’t let me go so easily. How? She knew there was something wrong about me being here, and she would be determined to find out.
“I am Mrs. Salisbury, nice to meet you. We’ll discuss the particulars later.”
I followed the woman to find a man standing in front of a mirror, dressed in a long jacket of red velvet and high black boots. His long platinum blond hair spilled over the collar and down his back. The energy in the room changed abruptly as he stiffened and slowly turned towards me.
“Madam Salisbury, who is this lovely creature?” The man smiled as he bore his eyes into me, and I had a hard time meeting his gaze. From what I did see, his face was flawless.
“This is Mrs. Lillian Kerr. She is to help me catch up on some of the orders.” The woman smiled at me.
“Is she now?” He looked over me, a peculiar expression on his face.
I lowered my head to avoid his eyes.
“Mrs. Kerr, kindly start hemming the things on that table there,” said Mrs. Salisbury, turning her attention to the man.
I gladly accepted this distraction. I took off my coat, revealing a green, form-fitting wool sweater, draped it along the back of the chair, and quickly found a needle and matching thread(how would she know where it is?). As I sat down to begin, I could see out of the corner of my eye that the man still watched me. I concentrated on keeping the stitches small and even, ignoring the man’s stare.
There was a ring of the bell from the front of the store, and I heard Mrs. Salisbury swear under her breath as she went to tend to the customer.
Great. I was now alone with this man, more uncomfortable than ever.
“So, Mrs. Kerr,” he said, smiling, “I couldn’t help but overhear your circumstances.” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You don’t have the hands of a peasant.”
“Before the loss of my husband, I was privileged,” I said truthfully, continuing sewing. As for the privileged part, in comparison to people in this world, I was. I tried not to linger on the thought that this world didn’t have showers, internet, or pizza. How would she know that?
“I see,” he said. “Still, you would be better off to marry again than to work your fingers to the bone.”
I jerked my head towards him, annoyed, “Are you offering?”
This seemed to amuse him. “I’m not the marrying kind, unfortunately. Though, the idea tempts me.” He smiled, as if enjoying a private joke.
As I looked at him, I had trouble looking too closely, as if something about him prevented me doing so. Frustrated, my eyes rested on the outer edges of him. “I’ll do what I must. And, like you, I have no interest in marrying.”
In the blink of my eyes, he disappeared from where he stood. I heard his laugh close to my ear. Jumping out of my chair, I turned toward him aggressively. Taking my hands in his grasp, he laughed. “You are very amusing to me, and peculiar. I might have to visit again soon.”
His hands warmed my frozen ones(if they were frozen she would be unable to sew), and for a moment they curled in his hold. It took a great deal of effort as I took my hands out of his and crossed my arms to take my hands out of his and cross my arms. “If you must, but don’t expect a warm welcome from me.”
“You wound me, Madam. Such hostility, and I believe I am undeserving of it.”
I dared to glance at him, and I couldn’t help but grin grinned at his exaggerated look of despair. “Good,” I said.
“I do believe I’m beginning to enjoy your hostility.”
I had a hard time understanding his interest in me. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Are you a masochist then? Do you enjoy pain?”
“If it were from you, I believe I would.”
I noted his flirtations with mixed feelings. If I wasn’t dreaming, I would have turned frigid and ignored him without hesitation. Having been without such attention for so long, it almost felt invigorating to banter with this man. I could still remember Ethan yelling at me to not go down the tunnel, and it upset me. Though in the end he had been right, the way he treated me in recent months was so domineering. I am sorry, but this paragraph does not quite make sense. Why would she have turned frigid and ignored him? Because he was hitting on her or because she had a boyfriend? Why would Eric yelling at her upset her? Saying he had treated her in such a domineering manner is not enough. If he were controlling he would be giving her tons of attention, just not necessarily positive. Also, why hasn’t she thought about Eric before now? I know I’d be trying to figure out if he could find me, or if he’d be in the same position. What if he were looking for her? Give us something concrete, something that you don’t tell us outright, about their relationship. Has he become distant? Only talking to her to criticize? Give us more!
“I would do nothing to give you pleasure intentionally.”
Grinning, he said, “We’ll see.”
“If you don’t mind, I have work to do, Sir…?” Turning from him, I waited with too much anticipation of learning his name.
“No, you’re not ready for my name yet, darling. I’ll be at The Blue Dragon Inn, if you care to learn it.”
“Don’t wait up for me.” I leaned over my work, dismissing him, while I attempted to banish the scenario that played in my head.
My ears perked up as I heard the voices from the other room. “Sir, I assure you, there is no such person here,” said Mrs. Salisbury.
The guards had found me. shouldn’t she have mentioned something about this earlier? Maybe taken a few precautions? I dunno….NOT just gone straight to working and flirting? It’s such a rough transition with no middle ground. I didn't understand why Mrs. Salisbury had lied to the guards about my presence here, but I was thankful. If the guards came into the back room however, the both of us would be in trouble since she was harboring me. My eyes locked with the blond haired man and I was scared stiff. Silently I pleaded for him to help me.
Quickly he pulled me out of my chair and moved me into a closet. The door closed, the tiny space filled with darkness with only a dim glow from under the thresholdof what?. A chair scraped along the floor towards the closet, the light diminishing. Heavy boots slowly marched into the room, walking the perimeter.
An unfamiliar voice said, “I know she’s here.”
|
|
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Word Changes
Punctuation Changes