Saturday, October 5, 2019

1st 5 Pages Oct Workshop - Barrios

Name: Anita McDivitt Barrios
Genre: YA Fantasy
Title: Dragon's Leap

Chapter 1 - The Call

Iric MacDraegan woke to a heavy drone of two dissonant notes clawing against each other, grating through his dreams and dragging him awake. The dragon lung pipes spewed their strange tones, ebbing and flowing through the farmhouse walls with each heave of the bellows. They surged louder and sighed, fading, only to breathe and surge again.

Another Leap, he thought and rubbed his eyes. Another chance lost.

He sat up in bed, ran his fingers through the mass of black, corkscrew curls that fell to his shoulders. He pulled at the worst knots, working his fingers through them, and finally shook his bangs out of the way. The droning vibrated in his chest and tickled his ear drums.

The worst part is that it won't stop until the Leap is over. The pipes will drone for a fortnight or until the dragonlings answer the call, whichever comes first. Everyone in earshot's getting ready to fling themselves over the cliff, hoping they'll be dragon-chosen, except me. I'll be mucking stalls and mending fences. They're so damn lucky. I bet their parents can't wait for them to Leap. They're not harping on how you're going to bust your head open on the Beach of Sorrows if the River Maw is running low. Mom'll never let me go. The Glacier Maw could melt and flood the valley and I'd still have to stay home.

He tried to think of something, anything, else. I don't have lessons today so I don't have to trek to the Widow Affrey's for maths and reading. A dozen or so other ranchers' sons, like Baltair and Ealar, read from the Annals and learned basic arithmetic under her watchful eye, enough to negotiate their quotas each year, but mostly the old woman used them as free ranch hands. Uncle Luak did all that, leaving Iric the fences to mend and firewood to chop. He'd stumbled into bed late last night and snuggled into the wool blankets, grateful for the warmth after sleeping on the ground two nights in a row while he rounded up his mother's flock. It took him that long to find all the sheep.

An eerie dragon cry, like he'd never heard before, came down the mountains and scared the sheep to the far edges of neighbors' pastures and into the pine woods. They bolted through the fences to escape the high-pitched scream and mournful keening that followed.

Silly sheep. There's no escape from a noise. Like the droning, it had to be endured. He tracked down the last of them by the peaceful stream that ran along the western edge of his mother's ranch and walked most of the night to drive them home. Sleeping under the stars was exciting when he was nine, knowing his mother and Uncle Luak trusted him to stay out all by himself. But now he was 14, it was barely spring, and the ground felt lumpy and hard and the nights were bone cold.

Laid out for him, on top of the covers at the end of his bed, was a freshly laundered pair of breeches and wool tunic. He snagged them and pulled them on under the warm covers. His mother's simple gesture nagged at him. It was as if she was saying, "Get up. Stop dreaming. Get out there. Ignore the call to Leap. Get to work."

He pushed off the blankets with reluctance. As a little boy he'd race into his mother's sleeping room, jump on her blankets, and pretend to wake her. He'd demand what she called a "soft cheek" kiss. Now he ran a hand over his chin, felt the thickening streak of soft, fuzzy black hair growing above his top lip. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stolen a "soft cheek" kiss. On a ranch there was always work to do and he was the only man to do it, except when Uncle Luak came to visit.

He yanked on his father's boots, which pinched his toes, and a knitted, cable wool sweater. Making no sound, he slipped through the total darkness in the dirt-floored house, navigating the sparse furnishings: a wood table and long bench, a couple of chairs, a rocking chair, a spinning wheel and a small frame loom by the fireplace. He shrugged into his father's oiled sheepskin coat, which he hung from a nail by the front door. He slipped his hands into his mittens and stepped outside.

He sagged against the doorway, his knees weak. The pasture was empty.

"Gone?" His warm breath steamed in his face. He pulled at his curls.

Of course. The pipes! The sheep are afraid of the droning and they bolted. But they should know this sound. Or would they? He considered.

The Mews only sounded the pipes four times a year. It was up to the dragonlings to respond and sometimes none did. It'd been a while since he'd last heard them.

Maybe they're still skittish from that horrible dragon cry two nights ago? If so, they'll keep running until the pipes stop droning. Finding them could take days.

His legs ached, dreading all the walking he'd have to do. He groaned.

That's what I get for sleeping in a soft bed under warm blankets last night when I should've been mending fences. Not a single ewe left.

Uncle Luak insisted sheep would stay in their corrals and not bolt if they felt safe. So why didn't the stupid creatures ever feel safe on our land? Why did they always bolt at the slightest little thing?

The dawn was still too dim to track them. In his mind's eye, he imagined the land below the ranch. Tall pines, a shade of deep green, almost black, hid the River Maw's arms. By following the color he could make out where the River split at the head of the plateau. There the trees cleared in a wide swath to allow for sheep drives and cart traffic to and from the castle. Bridges and barges crisscrossed the water. On the other side, a single, wide cobblestone road led straight to the castle Mews. It, and the Amphitheater behind it, were grey specks in the distance, covered in a perpetual haze of fog and smoke.

He knew from listening to his mother and Uncle Luak that beyond the Amphitheater lay the Fields of Prey, where all their sheep ended up as dragonling-fodder. Beyond the Fields and at the end of the plateau was the Leaping Cliff, a 150-foot drop into the rejoining arms of the River Maw.

The sheep'll get closer to it than I ever will, he grumbled.

The lung pipes droned, incessant.

I bet everyone's gathering at the cliff right now, watching the sky for the dragonlings' arrival.

He threw his head back, blinking away tears. There's no point in thinking about it. He let go of his curls and stood up tall. I have to round up sheep. Again. He kicked the dirt.

Where do they feel safe? Old man MacSeaghan's place, for sure, although Lord only knows why. I found a few by the stream after that strange dragon cry. Maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe the whole herd'll head there this time. He gritted his teeth. If I work fast, I can get the chores done and eat before I leave.

He hated doing chores. They were always waiting for him, more work to be done.


  1. Hey, I'm Kelsey! I look forward to critiquing with you!

    So I have a few comments that I know you probably don't want to hear, or have heard -- But starting with someone waking up is always so hard! It's a pretty big cliche, and I've heard agents at conferences say that its a big turn off, and will often lead to them not reading more, and you don't want to do that! I think you're waking up is more unique than normal with the Leap, but I feel like you're likely doing yourself a disservice either way.

    That being said, I was willing to read and let it go-- but as I read, I started to feel more and more like you were likely starting in the wrong place. I almost wonder if starting with the scene that you spend so much time summarizing here isn't the place to try (the one where he had to gather the sheep after they scatter from the noise they heard the night before). Of course, this is so hard to tell without seeing more, but I only suggest starting in a new spot because so much of this opening was spent on other moments anyway (on the moment about the sheep, on the moment about the kisses with his mother), so you aren't spending much time in scene here anyway.

    My other suggestion is that I, personally, am not a fan of the swap between third past, to first present. I understand that likely what has happened here is that you lost the italics when this was posted, and the "thought" passages are probably italicized in the text. However, I'm not sure this works. As a reader, it's really off-putting to swap between those two. I think you could easily keep everything in third past, and write the thoughts into the text. This is much more common in YA fantasy, and can be seen in a lot of newer third person past tense YA Fantasy like Six of Crows, Seafire, Sorcery of Thorns, etc. Investigate how other authors handle close third person point of view, and how they trickle in thoughts and feelings of the main characters into the text without switching tense and POV. That being said, it might be more a "not for me" thing, and you should listen to others and see what the majority says. I'm not sure how others feel about it, but it isn't something I'm used to seeing in the YA Fantasy I read.

    Good luck and happy writing!

  2. Hi Anita, I like the tension that comes in right away. I'm asking questions immediately, big story questions: What is the Leap? Why is there a call? That's excellent. I'll read on, because I want to know.

    I'm having a little bit of a difficult time sinking into the world. I think it starts with this: Iric MacDraegan woke to a heavy drone of two dissonant notes clawing against each other, grating through his dreams and dragging him awake. The dragon lung pipes spewed their strange tones...

    I can't hear two dissonant notes creating a heavy drone. Is there some sort of symbolic language you could pull out here to make your reader feel what it's like to have that sound in their ears. Is it like two giant insects? Is it like giant wolves howling? What in the world of the reader's experience would allow them to feel what Iric feels?

    When you get down to the physical details of the world (the trees, the opening the sheep can use, the barges, etc.), I'm in, but that's because I need no translator to tell me what it feels like to experience those visuals. The picture is painted in my mind.

    Then, the other thing I'm not sure about is the leap between POV in paragraph chunks. You go from a third into that first, which I think is just character thought. I'd prefer you to hold onto the close third person, like this, maybe?

    His legs ached. That's what he got for sleeping in a soft bed. He dreaded all the walking he'd have to do, out from under his warm blankets. He shouldn't have been in warm blankets at all. He should've been mending fences. He groaned. Not a single ewe left.

    We're so used to reading close third person POV, readers will immediately understand that they are getting access to the character's thoughts. I think they will follow that more easily than leaping back and forth in your POV.

    In any case, you've got a good thing going, because of The Leap! Look forward to reading revisions!

  3. Hi Anita! I'm Jason. I'm a fan of both Game of Thrones and How To Train Your Dragon, which this seems like an interesting blending of the two. You have a lot of world-building here, and a lot detail. I loved how you described his breath steaming in front of his face and the layout of the land. I could almost see all of it, even without one of those nifty maps they usually have on the first few pages of fantasy novels.

    That said, I think you are doing yourself a disservice by focusing so much on what happened to Iric the night before. I felt like I was getting confused with what was happening the night before and what was happening now, especially when it was essentially the same thing--the sheep running off. Another potential issue is having the opening scene as Iric waking up. Agents see that a lot. I see the need for the scene-- introducing the horns and and the Leap. But I think you could find a different way to do this. Plus. If you cut the info about the night before, you'll be able to give us more story. I recently found this out in my own submission here. I had a bit too much back story in mine and after cutting it I was able to replace it with 500 other words. Just a thought

    What if the story started with the sound of the sheep stampeding away. Iric hears the horns and realizes that's what startled them. You still get to introduce his normal, and his people's history.

    However, it's your story, so please feel free to disregard my input if you dont think it's right for your work.

    I'm looking forward to working together through this journey.

  4. You have a great beautiful lyrical opening with the "dissonant notes" and "ebbing and flowing." However, I agree that this might not be the place to start. I think some type of action/conflict is needed in these first pages. Something that is affecting your main character. I'm not sure what the conflict might be in these first pages. I'm not getting the whole picture of what the Leaping is. Is that your conflict? It's hinted at but maybe draw on that more.

    I'm intrigued by the eerie dragon cry and the sheeps' reaction to it. That may be another source of conflict that can be drawn upon in this opening scene. Maybe start with that because we could get a sense of who your mc is as a shephard. And the action of having to gather the sheep that directly affects your mc is a good starting spot.

    I'm also wondering if you need so much back story and world building in these first pages as well. Maybe a little less name dropping at the beginning. I found myself a bit confused with the place names thrown in. Maybe focus on one place/action/conflict in these beginning pages.

    I'm excited to see what the revisions bring. Thanks!

  5. Hi Anita!
    I must say that I love how lyrical and poetic the quality of your writing is, especially in the beginning. This stylistic approach always speaks to me and my interests. Also, your use of imagery throughout the your pages is nicely done. I can picture what I'm reading!

    As far as suggestions go, here is what I have found:
    I think a better sense/feel for the world can be created if you provide an analogy for the two notes in the beginning. There's great poetic opportunity there!

    I think what I struggle with the most is the switching of POVs. At times, it was difficult for me to discern or keep up with. I think this is a very challenging stylistic approach to writing, and if you can figure out a way to make it meld and flow smoothly, then go for it! Something really unique could happen there. If not, then pick one POV and stick with that. Either route you choose to take will give you more character insight, I believe!

    I enjoyed reading your first pages and I look forward to what is next!

    Best wishes,

  6. Hi Anita,

    Thanks so much for sharing your work with us! There's not much more for me to say that hasn't been said above--you've gotten some excellent advice and things to think about. I really enjoyed your writing. It is lovely and the descriptions are so effective. I felt like I was there with Iric. That said, the world building lost me a bit, so maybe just making a pass for clarity. Be sure to think about your reader coming into this completely ignorant, making sure everything you've said moves the story along and paints an absolutely clear picture. I'm intrigued by the Leap!

    Looking forward to the next draft,

  7. Hi Anita,

    Apologies for the delay getting these notes back to you. But okay, diving in. You write beautifully. I think that you need to trust that a bit more and believe in yourself, because there's a quality of effort that sometimes interferes with the flow. The way you work with the rhythm and sound of words will come through in whatever you write, so try not thinking about it quite so much. Talent like that shines anyway. : ) I also love the world that you've built in this. It reminds me of some of my favorite fantasy series, but still unique. And that's brilliant.

    I have three main suggestions for improving this before the next round.

    1) Have your MC act more and think less. We need to be able to *see* the physicality of the world and be along for the ride as Iric interacts with it in 3D. Get him into motion. Instead of starting with him waking up, maybe have him heading for the sheep pen when the noise starts. Have him react to the sound, let us see how others are reacting. Have him think of the sheep and run to them, but have the pen already empt. Then you can *show* us the stakes--what he stands to lose and what his goals are--as he is in the act of searching for the missing sheep. Maybe also have him interact with another character or two so that we can see how Iric is viewed in the world in which he lives. Let us *witness* how his mother treats him. (Hopefully in a way that sets us up to either admire him or sympathize with him, because we need a reason to root for him.)

    2) Making this opening more active and immediate will help with the jarring nature of the direct thoughts that you write in first person present tense as opposed to the 3rd person past tense that you use for the overall narrative. There's no real need for that switch. The reader can assume that we are in your characters head, so stay with 3rd person past. Just bring the camera lens closer. : )

    3) Fixing the first point should also address this point, but concentrate on showing us the world on a much more intimate level. Immerse us in the sounds, smells, tastes, and most importantly the sights. Give us the details that bring it to life so that we can clearly visualize the wonderful world that you've created.

    This is a wonderful start. I'm intrigued by your character and the world, as well as the tantalizing Leap. Can't wait to dive in deeper.

  8. Thanks for a great first week of critiques! Your comments were helpful in reworking and bring more life to the pothole scene. You suggested giving more detail to the notebook, too, which helped me then use it more within the scenes. I'm looking forward to what's next for Dragon's Leap!