[stylist] seeking feedback

[Judith Bron]

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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