03-02-2011, 07:15 PM
Well done, I really enjoyed it, great opening, wonderful imagery, great ending ... a compact novel. You're very talented.
My penny's worth ... not that I have any authority
This absence of ego, how she prioritised survival over pride, wasn’t a quality she shared with her dad.
This absence of ego, how she prioritised survival over pride, wasn’t a quality she shared with her father. (dad is too modern sounding for the era you are writing of)
some unnameable thing made her back off,
some unnameable thing caused her retreat, (again, back off sounds too modern)
The only affection she now sought was non-sexual with the animals she kept, holding them against her breast like she might a suckling babe.
The only affection she now sought was with the animals she kept, holding them against her breast like she might a suckling babe. (omitting non-sexual leaves a softer tone imo)
But soon, like all men, his lust outweighed his loyalty to her and she was forced to kill him. (I would omit >and she was forced to kill him, and lead straight into your next sentence ... allowing for extra time with suspence)
But soon, like all men, his lust outweighed his loyalty to her. She had found him watching her one day as she washed herself in a nearby river, one hand around his penis, working it gingerly, as though he wasn’t sure what to do with it, but still felt the need to respond to its call. Reluctantly she pulled the same trick (again, too modern a word, not sure of a better one) she had on her old (I would replace with past or previous) would-be-rapists, and burying him at the site of her camp, collected her things and wandered forth through the woods, shedding no tears for the boy she had killed, like she had shed none for her father when he died.
Thanks for the great read
My penny's worth ... not that I have any authority
This absence of ego, how she prioritised survival over pride, wasn’t a quality she shared with her dad.
This absence of ego, how she prioritised survival over pride, wasn’t a quality she shared with her father. (dad is too modern sounding for the era you are writing of)
some unnameable thing made her back off,
some unnameable thing caused her retreat, (again, back off sounds too modern)
The only affection she now sought was non-sexual with the animals she kept, holding them against her breast like she might a suckling babe.
The only affection she now sought was with the animals she kept, holding them against her breast like she might a suckling babe. (omitting non-sexual leaves a softer tone imo)
But soon, like all men, his lust outweighed his loyalty to her and she was forced to kill him. (I would omit >and she was forced to kill him, and lead straight into your next sentence ... allowing for extra time with suspence)
But soon, like all men, his lust outweighed his loyalty to her. She had found him watching her one day as she washed herself in a nearby river, one hand around his penis, working it gingerly, as though he wasn’t sure what to do with it, but still felt the need to respond to its call. Reluctantly she pulled the same trick (again, too modern a word, not sure of a better one) she had on her old (I would replace with past or previous) would-be-rapists, and burying him at the site of her camp, collected her things and wandered forth through the woods, shedding no tears for the boy she had killed, like she had shed none for her father when he died.
Thanks for the great read
You give to the world when you're giving your best to somebody else.