Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-30881196-20161228230535/@comment-28266772-20170116173020

Innumerable rays of light pierced the wall of shutters, acting as guardians against the sun’s obnoxious luminescence. Like always, they failed in their task, as David would attest every day upon his return to the waking world. At least the flimsy sentinels complimented the room, or so he reasoned. Truthfully, neither he nor his wife Julia cared enough to replace them. Besides, they were just dark blue enough to fit in with the furniture, giving them a sleek modern appeal. Even so, that didn’t stop the farmer from grumbling about them whenever he awoke. '[woah, unlike sex, prose ought to be as short and painless as possible. You might want to consider making sure every word contributes directly to either the plot, setting, characters, themes, or mood & atmosphere. I can’t yet say whether the dark-blue blinds and their need for replacement are critical plot points but either way, it feels like filler that’s not worth the reader’s time.]'

"If I want to get a jog in today, I better get going," he said with a yawn. After weeks of planning, the couple was [were] hosting a family get-together, [no comma] and there was much to do. Thoughts focused on the day ahead, David freed himself of the comfy tomb and headed for the bathroom. Coffee colored curls and a haggard face stared back at him in the mirror. Stubble had already begun to overtake his visage, leading him to ready a razor and can of shaving cream. [If you think about how many stories take time out to describe the main character’s face you’ll find very few of them do and this is for a reason – if it ain’t relevant cut it out] [New line for a speaker ->] “You’d think a thirty-seven-year-old would look sexy with facial hair. Instead, I just kind of look like a homeless dude.” a [A] noticeable despair tinged David’s tone, but shortly after that his dour expression vanished, with a shrug.

After a satisfying shave and shower, David wanted to see his daughter before leaving for the day. For his efforts, the man’s senses were assaulted by noise. Like most nine-year-olds, [I can’t raise this issue everytime but you can do with toning the number of commas down] Amy never ceased to cause all sorts of ruckus. From childish laughter to squeals, it took a few knocks on the door just to grab her attention. A pale cherubic face framed by auburn curls smeared with dirt and red stains answered. Amy held the door open just wide enough to squeeze her head through, with an impish grin on her face. "I am leaving. Be a good girl for mom, ok? We have got to stop letting you play with the pigs. Look at you; you are all messy. And keep it down in there would ya?” he said jokingly before giving his daughter a peck on the nose.

"Ok, daddy, I love you," she said before closing the door.

Eventually, David found himself in the kitchen, opposite of [delete; of] Julia. Back turned, with her arms elbow deep in murky dishwater, she heard her husband’s approach. Not that she was trying to listen out for him, but Julia had always possessed exceptional hearing.

“David, can you pick up mom from the airport? I have got to get things ready for the reunion. I take it you are going to grab something to eat on the way?” she asked.

The [The] hog farmer gave a little salute. "Yes, my Empress! And yep, just a light snack, though," he proclaimed in his best imitation of an evil minion, which earned him a chuckle from Julia.

"By the way, our little princess is making quite the racket up there. Not to mention she’s messy," he followed up with a kiss on her left cheek.

“You mean the little monster, don’t you? And I told you that’s what happens when we let her bring those filthy pigs indoors.” Julia said with a playful smirk.

“In that case can I call her our little pig monster?” Her only reply was a splash of water in his direction and an accusation of his silliness.

'[Prose is good but you gotta be snappier and more direct with your storytelling. What you’re doing here is drowning the poor reader in clichés and cheese. There are subtler, more efficient, ways to demonstrate a perfect domestic life. 700 words of this pap is a mind draining.] '

Howls and screeches welcomed him when he stepped outside, as did some of his men, who waved or gave a friendly "hello." Many were hard at work, either transporting large crates filled with squealing “livestock,” [why is this in quotes?] or reinforcing the barbwire surrounding the piggery. While the work might've been tough, David paid and treated them well. Dressed in runners’ trunks and shorts, the homesteader walked over to a rather nice baby blue mercedes 2017. Business was booming for the past couple of years, and this was one of the few perks he enjoyed.

“Let’s see what’s on the radio,” David said to no one in particular, before backing out of the farmstead’s long driveway. As always the news was filled with overly negative doomsayers, or so he thought. All anyone talked about lately were a string of disappearances. Thankfully, the drive from his pig farm to Moore Forest Park was a relatively short one. '[Are they farming people? At this stage I’m pretty certain that’s the twist.]'

When the expensive mercedes came to a halt, David wasted little time exiting the car. The park itself was shrouded by a vast forest on all sides except for the entrance. It wasn’t a popular spot either. The secluded nature of the area combined with the kidnappings saw to that. Still, the grounds were able to draw locals and a few strangers every so often.

Unlike the other runners, David preferred to visit when there weren’t many visitors around. Luckily for him, fewer people had been showing up by the day, worried that they too might end up spirited away. After quickly surveying the park, he saw a couple of people. Most of whom were in groups of two or four, probably as a safety precaution and they seemed to be leaving anyway. However, one person was sitting alone, a fifteen-year-old boy of African American descent. His rather thin build, petite size, and youthful features suggested someone several years younger.

Possessed of a dark chocolate complexion and a few dreadlocks poking out of his hat, he was a rather cute kid. David sensed something odd about him, though. Whether it was the coat he wore or not, David couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t cold, but the weather was fair, and it was a very light jacket at that. He sat a great distance away from the others, with earbuds half sunken into his ears. Dangerously far some would say, but the youth didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey, you have the time?” he asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">Unfazed by the sudden emergence of another person, the boy hastily retrieved his phone. “It’s about nine-thirty am,” he replied in a fittingly little boy voice. With the ice broken, David engaged his new friend in conversation. All the while he kept track of the dwindling number of people. They talked about many things, including the big reunion he had planned tomorrow.

<p class="MsoNormal">“So what are you listening to anyway?” asked David.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Random shit from the internet. It’s the playlist of my soul, but I mostly listen to anime music.” [comma] replied the boy.

<p class="MsoNormal">Amused by the teen's response, David laughed, and praised his wit. [What wit?; also this line makes it seem like any following dialogue will be part of David’s praise]

<p class="MsoNormal">“Statistically speaking, someone has to find my terrible jokes funny. You are just one of those unfortunate few, sir,” [who’s speaking here?] a look of mock seriousness plastered the young teen’s face, as he delivered the “bad news.” A roar of laughter had emerged from David before he gave the park one final sweep. His laugh while genuine masked a darker purpose.

<p class="MsoNormal">When everyone departed save for the adult and boy, David’s demeanor darkened. “You know, I like you, but…”

<p class="MsoNormal">“But?” asked the boy, puzzled by David’s revelation before the older man asked him his name.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Alexander, but most people just call me Alex,” unsure of what else to do he answered the adult’s request with an apparent hesitation in his voice.

<p class="MsoNormal">David smiled wickedly before elaborating further. "But I am hungry."

<p class="MsoNormal">Alex would’ve run at that point if he weren’t busy cowering at the sight of David’s true nature. Brown irises sunk into a rising sea of red until only a thick crimson remained. Fair skin followed suit with its transformation, becoming leathery and turning the color of ash. David’s muscles flexed, expanding outward into almost cartoonish proportions. Bones snapped and twisted as unnatural forces reshaped his musculature into something more akin to a large canine than a man. His ears curled inward before flattening and extending upward. It was around the point that the farmer’s teeth sharpened to a knife-like point that Alex found the courage to flee. Right before he could witness coarse black fur consume the man’s body, completing his turn.

<p class="MsoNormal">-

<p class="MsoNormal">It’s very rare I do this but I’m looking 6000 more words to go on MS word here and I’m simply lost. I’ve no interest in continuing.

<p class="MsoNormal">First, dialogue. Dialogue must be formatted properly or else you run into the problems you encountered; i.e. no one knows who the fuck is talking half the time. New speaker, new line. It’s that simple. Make it clear who is talking; tag them as much and as often as possible. Only lapse into the comfort of dialogue without a tag if there’s only two characters and the rhythm has already been established.

<p class="MsoNormal">Second, plot. Big authors with big draws can sometimes get away with a bit of a listless start. But let’s be honest here, on the internet every fucker and their cat has self-published a book on Amazon. It’s gruelling, difficult, and nigh impossible to get noticed. Don’t piss away a thousand words on something unless it’s legitimately interesting. Remember, unless it’s contributing directly and effectively to the plot, setting, characters, themes or mood don’t include it. A domestic setting that deviates in no way whatsoever from the clichéd ‘happy family’ image is a risky start. Maybe you could pull it off if you kept it brief and immediately went to work dissecting it for the reader’s benefit but you don’t. You present it as a piece of world building and it fails because of its simplistic and rigid adherence to convention. You have very little time to hook someone, put your time and theirs to better use.

<p class="MsoNormal">Third, signposting. Twists and misdirection are hard to achieve – here you have it away too quickly and it contributed to my loss of interest. Putting ‘livestock’ in quotes was a major mistake, but even then when you present such a basic and boring domestic setting the reader is going to immediately start looking for the signs of ‘horror’ that are inevitably present. It wasn’t a massive guess to jump to the conclusion that these people were farming humans and it got only worse when you mentioned missing people, and the farmer’s trip to the woods. While I’m at it, werewolves also suck. That’s just my opinion but I’ve been told by a few people that I’m, quite possibly, omniscient and maybe even Yahweh himself. Either way, it’s worth bearing in mind that when you pick werewolves, zombies, vampires, ghosts etc. as the monster in a story you need to put in a little extra work to make them interesting. I don’t think you pulled this off.

<p class="MsoNormal">Fourth, prose. The good part! You were a bit too purple at times but you should, nonetheless, take it to heart that you’re a good writer and your confidence and vocab range shows. I’d focus a little more on using language to tell an interesting tale and as a matter of exercise I’d try to keep your next few stories short (less than 5000 words if possible) so you’re forced to be a bit more imaginative in your writing. As it is you shouldn’t be in a situation where your description of blue blinds is more memorable than your description of a man turning into a werewolf (the description of Alex was also a strong bit of prose). Before you persist in writing longer and more complex stories I’d try to stick to simpler elegant tales of horror that let you exercise your use of creative language.

<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, and btw, I'd be careful about posting this to the wikia in its current state. The errors in dialogue punctuation would require it to be marked for review which can last a long time (esp. given the word count). You might wanna put this out there, but in that case I implore you to spend a bit more time tidying up the dialogue and grammar. I'd normally do this myself but... c'mon, it's 6000 words.