Critique #45 — E.C. Perry
Kevin Andrew Murphy August 3rd, 2006
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I lifted my head at the sound of the bells. The street market grew quiet, every motion stilled, every breath held, and for the space of thirteen moments the city paused in its bustle. No merchants shouted their wares to the crowd, no dogs barked in the alleys, no horses clattered upon cobblestone, for these were not the Church bells, or the Tower bells that were used to mark the hours. In my nineteen years I’d never heard such a heavy sound, and my shoulders sagged under the weight of knowledge.
The Palace bells of Israfel only tolled upon the death of the Queen.
It should have meant nothing to me. I was far from the gilded world of courtly magics and responsibilities. Still, even as I thought so, apprehension laid itself upon me like a cloak. It seemed a common malady, for there was an unprecedented moment of stillness as the last toll faded into the dawn. Then a man coughed, a child began to cry, and all at once the crowd became a wave of sound and motion. Only when the man in front of me shifted his weight to speak with his neighbor was I able to release the air in my lungs. I continued the motion of my right hand as if nothing had occurred, then quickly returned it to my pocket. Luck was with me today it seemed, if not with the Queen.
E.C.,
You need a comma after “moments” in the second sentence.
This is a strong beginning and I’m very intrigued by what’s going on. I somewhat question that the protagonist has never heard the bells before, if just because it’s rare to have a belltower that never sees use, but I bought it because the implication is that the Queen has been ill for a long while, this isn’t unexpected, and all of the younger folk have been told what to expect when the palace bell rings.
I think you could milk a little bit more pathos by changing the “child” who begins to cry to a “woman,” since I expect the Queen was much beloved and someone would have a sucker-punch of emotion, rather than a baby just picking up on the tension and starting to wail.
Kevin,
Thanks so much for the critique! It’s really helpful. I never even thought it might be odd that the protagonist has never heard the bells (since I know that this Queen has reigned the entire span of his life and the bells are used only for the purpose of declaring her death). It’s so hard to remember that the reader isn’t privy to all the information rolling around in my head.
I like the idea of changing the “child” to a “woman”. Thanks so much for the suggestion.
Also, I wanted to let everyone know that the paragraphs got a bit messed up in the email and posting. The first paragraph ends with “weight of knowledge”, the line about the bells of Israfel stands alone, and the next paragraph begins with “It should have meant nothing to me”.
Thanks again!
E.C.:
I am very intrigued by this story, and would most definitely turn the page.
However, I did stumble just a tad at the start of the second graf:
Is he talking about his home? if he’s talking about the queen, how can he be far when he’s near enough to hear the bells? Perhaps a verb can be chosen that clarifies this distance–is it rank and not measured distance, or what?
Cloaks don’t lay themselves they drape or hang. A blanket or quilt?
But this stillness is not
Sherwood,
Thanks so much! I didn’t even think that some of those lines might be confusing. I will definately need to go back and rethink/rework them to better clarify. Thanks so much for the critique, it’s very much appreciated.