[stylist] seeking feedback
Judith Bron
jbron at optonline.net
Fri Sep 18 13:08:53 UTC 2009
Your first line made me say, "Huh?" Take a look and tell me what's wrong.
Judith
A bright yellow sun slowly climbed its clear pink sky above the Norrich
Industries mine works.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Frank Lordi" <timber_wolf899 at yahoo.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, September 18, 2009 1:30 AM
Subject: [stylist] seeking feedback
> Greetings all;
>
> Here are some excerpts from the rough draft i'm working on. I've been
> impressed by all the thoughts and ideas circulating here, so I've decided
> ot offer these snippits for critique. I'm very interested in what
> everyone has to say.
> thanks!
>
> CHAPTER - Red Sky at Morning
>
> A bright yellow sun slowly climbed its clear pink sky above the Norrich
> Industries mine works. The land was flat, barren strewn with dirt, sand,
> and pebbles, anything larger having been consumed by the mining machines
> months ago. These monster machines rolled on ten foot wheels; massive
> metal studded black tires grinding under all before them. Everywhere they
> moved in the shadow of still larger structures.
>
> Structures there were aplenty for the Norrich Works was a city of its own.
> Edi faces of every form spread across strip mined planes; their struts and
> girders the foliage of an industrial jungle. Residential domes, bright
> airy constructs of glass and metal housed workers by the hundreds. Ore
> grinders dwelling in vast corrugated sheds were fed endless streams of
> rock on belts the size of city streets. Smelters, immense concrete
> beehive, roared and smoked like slumbering dragons. Thirty story tall
> refinery towers here and there raised their cylindrical shoulders towards
> the wisps of cloud far above. Near the outskirts of the industrial
> sanctum sat a hand full of stark white landing pads, cement squares
> two-hundred yards across. Heavy lift vehicles on their launch rails,
> ribbons of metal that stretched for miles into the desert waited to take
> flight. Out still farther, at the very edge of the pit were located the
> city's beating hearts, one each east
> and west. Safe under their reinforced domes they beat day and night
> crushing hydrogen in their hellish chambers, and belching helium from
> titanium valves.
>
> CHAPTER – Flight
>
> Vash's finger moved; a soft caress on the firing pin to wake the ardor of
> his fighter's autocannons. Their rumbling growl thumped in his ears, and
> rolled up through his feet. Orange tracers stitched two lines in the
> utter blackness and a rock gray craft flew to pieces. Up here, alone in
> the dark Vash soaked in a sea of peace. There was no heavy cruiser, no
> swarm of fighter craft dancing their dance of death. There was no
> faithless wife, no fallen friend. Here there was only dark in all its
> shades and colors. Vash knew it well. He could ride its rhythms, and
> feel its currents. With a thought he reached for threads of utter night,
> embracing them when the laws of physics flung him back and squeezed sight
> to a fading tunnel. Now less firmness, stroke them softly, softly. The
> fighter straitened feet from a great warship's exposed belly. Vash
> plucked, a musician now, drawing fort ht he notes he desired. Lost in the
> song he played again and again
> sliding under that river he loved so well, drinking its waters until
> burning lungs forced Vash back again as they always did.
>
> The cruiser rolled gushing flames and belching atmosphere. Shapes of
> metal and of flesh froze instantly or melted in a flash. A lone fighter
> streaked into the darkness.
>
> CHAPTER – Daughter of Day
>
> John's breath would not come. His words would not form, for never had he
> seen such a sight. Nothing from the high walls of Alexandria to Hadrien's
> Tower could have any claim to beauty or wonder beyond those of the girl
> before him. Robes of white draped her slender form brushing the polished
> floor. Seemingly endless waves of golden hair to her waist shimmered and
> shown equal to the golden sash girding her and looped over her right
> shoulder. In her hands the yew wood staff, bound with seven bands of
> gold, rested in such a way as to seem only another part of her, delicate
> and lovely as its mistress. Sarah's eyes smiled fondly, blue as the summer
> sky, deep as the eternal ocean, flashing with pride and expectation.
>
>
>
>
>
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