[stylist] Comments on fantasy prompt

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

Eve,

Here are comments on your prompt. BTW, I am obsessed with fairytales.
I've long been acquainted with the fey, grin.

Really good description of physical appearance. Good metaphors and
specifics.

Using Northern Spruce is a great specific noun to use.

In the following, a comma should come before knowing: She watched this
{comma} knowing it was only possible because of her thievery. 
And what do you mean by "thievery?" Maybe this can be made clearer.

I like "tween time." Very fairytale-ish language.

In the following para, it should break into a new para at, "Raven,
always greedy..." The fishermen of the night knew no tides, yet they
caught their salmon. The hunters of the night knew no moonlight, yet
they killed their stag. The women of the night knew no sunshine, yet
they raised strong children. They knew no other way and yet were happy
and content. {new para} Raven, always greedy as we know, was not
content. She planned and prevailed. She filled the sky with light and
gifted the Earth with warmth from the sun. Should a thief feel remorse?
Raven felt none.

I really enjoyed this piece. It harkens back to the fairytales of the
18th and early part of the 19th centuries with it's pacing and language,
though a bit darker and more grown up.

If turning into a longer piece, you could have more showing along with
the exposition just to keep the reader inside the story.

I like your sentences. They flow nicely and have a good cadence.

Very impressed.

Bridgit



Message: 5
Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2013 20:46:29 -0700
From: Eve Sanchez <3rdeyeonly at gmail.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] fantasy prompt
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<CACdbYKUKcKG4nuSaZLoML7JdqK1+sL=GVU1DgoDAXHHJ87nLvQ at mail.gmail.com>
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Alright, I'll bite. This is my cup  after all. By the way, funny thing;
my 3 year old grand daughter stole mbag tonight and was swinging it
around the
house. Who needs expensive toys?   Seriously, I am working on a series
of
stories centered around the Fae thaine mythologies and legends from
around the world. For those that do not know, the Fae are better known
as the Faeries, the beings of another realm. Well, here is one of my
pieces and I will warn for those faint of heart, is descriptions of her
body. I do not find it sexual, but I have been told bers that it is. So
in other words; you might not want to read it if you are worrieut the
human anatomy.  I was not going to share any of th, but since Bridget
brought it up...

Raven

                Her breasts, as perfect as two peas with tiny nipples
pointing the way, sat above a slender waist that smoothly blended into
narrow hips of youthfulness, though she was immortal. Her derriere
though, was as prominent as her breasts, causing balance and harmony in
her form. Her skin was a black blue like the panting tongue of a dog
from the orient, yet it shone more than beautiful on her. There was
nothing coarse about her. Even if one was to stroke her nether hair they
would proclaim it as soft and silky as the above ebony tresses and as
glossy black as the feathered wings folded across her back.

                She sat perched on the tiniest of branches of a great
Northern spruce, looking out upon the tides visible in the glow of the
moon. She sat with one muscular leg folded under her and the other
raised so that she may rest her hand upon her knee. She watched as the
water swelled, crested, and rolled in as far as it dared to go, wetting
sand and stone alike. She watched as the water then receded leaving a
trail of bubbles, as trapped air from beneath the dampened sand was
released. She watched this knowing it was only possible because of her
thievery. She looked up at the stars and moon and smiled, her black eyes
twinkling in their glow.

                This was the tween time, the time between night and day.
It was the time between dark and light. It was her time. Those who
remembered her, remembered her as the wise trickster bird. This was fine
with her though she was more than bird. She did her greatest work in the
form of a human boy child, but she was more than a human. She was Fae,
and this was her time. These were her people, her clan, and this was her
Mother Earth. She was Raven.

                All around the world, she was known by many names. She
was a trickster, a thief, a messenger, and deity, both Goddess and God.
She was Raven. She thought of the many stories told about her as she
traveled through the ages visiting and touching the children of Mother
Earth throughout its Northern regions, as she preferred, for she only
did as she wished and went where she desired. Only she knew of all her
adventures and only she knew of what was to come. She remembered, while
looking upon the lunar reflection upon the moving waters.

                Long ago, it is told, she posed as the grandchild of the
Creator. He who held the moon and stars, the sun and daylight all in
baskets woven with intricate designs, had refused to let them loose. He
had protected them from all and kept them safely hidden from
molestation, but she knew that in her chosen form she would prevail. Not
even the Great Creator could deny his dearest grandson. And so, after
much trickery, it was done. They had been loosed for all the world.

                The fishermen of the night knew no tides, yet they
caught their salmon. The hunters of the night knew no moonlight, yet
they killed their stag. The women of the night knew no sunshine, yet
they raised strong children. They knew no other way and yet were happy
and content. Raven, always greedy as we know, was not content. She
planned and prevailed. She filled the sky with light and gifted the
Earth with warmth from the sun. Should a thief feel remorse? Raven felt
none.

                Though The People did not normally sanctify thievery or
deception, they honored Raven and do so still to this day. How could
there be anger towards someone giving such gifts? The People looked to
the moon and told of time?s passage. They learned to read the stories
written within the stars. They appreciated the comfort and life provided
by the sun and lived fully in daylight. The People did not persecute
Raven for her crimes. No, they honored the wise bird and remember her
gifts to this day.

                She stood, with the wane light of the tween time
silhouetting her diminutive form and looked to the moon and stars. She
felt no remorse. As her world was between spiritual and physical, this
was her time. As she was busiest between the old night and the day she
gifted, this was her time. As she thought of the creatures that stirred
in this tween time, neither dark nor light, she knew they were hers and
that she loved them. This was her time and she was content with it as
much as greedy Raven could ever be content with anything.

                With her memories of the past and ideas of what was to
come, she spread her wings and leapt from the bough, falling into the
still air, until the wind caught her up and held her suspended before
she took flight. Turning in an arc, she circled a totem with her
likeness, the likeness of the trickster bird. She is remembered still.
She flew counter to the rotation of Mother Earth so as to stay ahead of
the day. She flew to stay within the tween time. This was her time,
between what was past and that to come, and she had no remorse for her
crimes.