Revised, Reshaped, and Reformed; I give you: The Ravens


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Arrow

6:14pm Jun 25 2011 (last edited on 10:49pm Jul 7 2011)

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I have sweated over this piece for so long, cracking hard at it like a whip to make it reach my standards as a good piece. Typically, I hate everything I write, but I must be honest with myself now.
I am proud.
I've had a lot of criticisms against this and mainly, I fixed most of what I was told. Some, I kept the same.
I did not balance out my sentence lengths. I am aware of this.
Comments welcome!
Enjoy ~
(Also. Artwork by Bitowurd for this piece. No touching)

The Ravens

She glided along the twilight breeze that flowed leniently through the air, the crisp current slightly ruffling her black plumage. Her beady eyes, as white as the luminescent moon, cast their gaze through the wind as she scanned the area around her. Aside from the gentle murmur the leaves gave off when the draft sailed through the crooks of branches among the nearby trees, all was mute in their domain. The atmosphere around her was one of peace as her elegant wings dipped slightly and she fell through the air in an ominous blur.

The sun was just on the brink of the horizon, faint orange rays painting the blue sky with hues of light purple and salmon pink. It was the time of dusk, between worlds where neither sun nor moon reigned in the sky. Her heart began to pound and her gaze flickered, eyesight lingering over every flutter of movement traced in her watchful stare. The sleek and effortless wing-beats that had held her aloft before had turned erratic, every muscle tense and waiting for his attack.

A shriek cut through the solitary silence and she felt a flurry of wind rake through her feathers as his form shot over her head. He passed in a white blur, crude-styled wings tucked in as close to his body as he dared. He wanted as much speed as only a raven could muster. His cryptic gaze washed over hers, dark black eyes smoldering with aggression. While her eyes told the tales of the stars, his portrayed the darkest of nights where the tendrils of shadows reigned. As her feathers were the color of ink, his were a canvas painted of snow.

She found herself being swallowed in his lurid gaze, his dark eyes seething with malice and fury. His wings beat down again, stark white feathers bright in contrast to the soft hues of the earth and sky around them. When he advanced on her, she sidestepped through the air. Neither could gain the upper hand; and so the dance was continued. Their bodies moved in wild blurs, feathers and beaks caught up in a whirlwind of intricate steps.

Her falls through the air were elegant while his were straightforward and crude. Her wings fanned out, dark black feathers melding with the few shadows cast by the twilit atmosphere. His, he kept close, speed and ruthlessness on his side. His talons sliced through a breath of air as he croaked again, but she folded in one wing and spun away, eyes closed as she focused on her maneuver.

They twirled through the air, wings beating in unison, until she struck. Her sharp beak jabbed him just above his beady black eye. He cried out as black blood ran from the wound, covering his feathers in ink. While she watched, satisfied, his blood-lust settled in and he lunged. His talons raked across her side, white blood splattering across her dark feathers as she screeched in agony.

They watched each other now, voices silent and leaves hushed as the zephyr that swirled around them died. She watched as his once-beautiful white feathers succumbed to darkness, the tips of his plumage folding slightly under their new dark weight. She knew what he saw: her own black feathers wilting, rolling into new ones the color of white sugar. She blinked painfully as fire seared through her eyes and when she opened them, her gaze found his. His milky white eyes met hers before he shivered. The sun had inched its way upward into the sky and there was no longer balance; the two could not be together.

At last, the final transformation was upon them; the sun having no hold of what was occurring, the magic of its rays unable to control the black raven any longer. She felt wrong in this white coat, so out of place where she had previously been wrapped in darkness. She knew he felt the wrong, too. He glided over to her and their wings brushed, causing them both to shiver. They cast their eyes up into the sky and felt their souls begin to shift, to drift away from their earthly bodies.

They felt nothing; everything at the same time. Her feathers, now white and alien, gladly released her soul that was tainted with an overbearing amount of shadow. The malevolence of the darkness he now carried was arrogant, refusing to let go. But he fought, finding strength as his twin pulled herself free from the blisteringly heated grasp of her sun-bleached feathers.

Their bodies were beside them, wings still flapping, but motivation and expressions lifeless. It was strange for the two celestial beings to be in their true forms, feeling every spark of hatred and every ounce of love from everywhere at once had them awed. When she glanced at their bodies beside them, empty of the souls that flew within a breath of them, she saw their eyes. Gray; filled not with light or darkness.

When she looked at him; his spirit, she saw the sun, the stars, and comets trailing in the sparse outline of his nonexistent body. When he looked at her, he saw the moon, the stars, and the blazing light of meteors flowing through her delicate frame.

The sun continued to rise behind them and in a split second, they were equal. Sun and moon met on the edges of the earth and the two ravens found their way back. They entered their true bodies once again, but still, their spirits caressed their feathers before truly melding with mortal flesh. The remains of the pure beauty of their souls sparked on their feathers for a moment longer before absorbing into their bodies again.

She squawked in contentment when she saw his downy white feathers and his inky black eyes. He gave her a passive nod, his eyes focused on the rising sun. Her form shimmered slightly as sunlight filtered over the area, dousing the shadows of her turf with light. As the sun climbed up in the air, she grew more evanescent, the moon’s rays no longer there to bring her form to life.

And so it went. The white raven did his duties during the day, watching over the balance of good and evil, his mind always elsewhere, fleeing back to the black raven he so envied, hated, and loved. When the moon overtook the sun once again, as it had for all eternity, she came back in a rush of brilliant black feathers, the tendrils of shadows and darkness trailing behind her.

And so, she overtook his duties at night and watched over the balance, making sure it never tipped. The ravens could not exist without the other, yet she realized they were not truly different beings. Her eyes twinkled, as white as the burning sun, and she would wait until the time of twilight rose again, where they would be at peace, knowing they would never exist without the other.






hello my name is elder price
Arrow

11:11am Jun 28 2011

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hello my name is elder price
Arrow

10:55pm Jul 8 2011

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Posts: 3,828
<3





hello my name is elder price
Raru

2:19am Jul 10 2011

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Posts: 583

It's a nice story, I can see all the effort in it and sort of grasp the surrealism you're sort of trying to bring out.

I wish there was also a sharper contrast between the birds. Unlike, some people, you actually brought out a contrast in the styles of the birds (elegant/crude) but I think you then failed to uphold it with the physical deion of the white raven. Like I usually say to people, be more sensitive to words. I wish there was more words to match his crudeness like canvas, perhaps blank or even empty words rather then typical words like 'snow' which don't seem to quite match him.

On the idea of colours, try to stay away from terms like 'ink' and 'white sugar', they're either quite generic or too obvious. I rather when you talked about blood, just leave it as 'black'. It's a very pure word and shows the very essence of the colour but you then sort of not followed on by it strength by talking about the bird being 'covered in ink'. Haha, I dunno, I'm not saying what you're doing is wrong, it's your style and it does flaunt your vocabulary quite well but I prefer blunter and simpler words because they are, to me, the very essence of things.

One more problem with this is the change in view-ish something like that idk. Like before, we've always seen the story from the black raven and it remained like that up until the last two paragraph. If you can, try to be more subtle about it. Your light/dark contrast also seemed to strong to me, it's constantly mentioned but the words seem somewhat overused at times. But that could be because I prefer a less direct approach to these themes.

Again, my own opinion. Haha, I dunno how others think about it. Personally I'm not fond of animal stories because I think the problem is when people write about animals is they tend to not bring out the things that make you feel it is the animal, it still integrates things that stops me from thinking that these are ravens.

But you have every right to be proud of your story. It's still quite good and definitely well-written! There are times when I appreciate your choice of words and how you use them to appeal to our senses so good job!





Arrow

9:18am Jul 10 2011

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Posts: 3,828
Thank-you so much for your input. I'll probably be making a few more changes now that you pointed a few things out to me. Really, it can only get better with critique. <3





hello my name is elder price
Gunmetal

10:21pm Jul 12 2011 (last edited on 7:51pm Jul 15 2011)

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Posts: 130

(Please excuse typos; I'm extremely sleep deprived.)

 

I can see that you put a lot of time and thought into your writing. I know this story has already been critiqued, but I'm going to offer feedback as well because there are a few things I think are holding the piece back from being the best that it can be.

 

I interpret this as the conflict between good and evil, life and death, etc. The overarching symbolism (light/dark, black/white) is familiar which makes it accessible to readers. I do find myself wondering why you chose a white raven and not, for example, a dove.

 

There's some good action and you've taken care to draw contrast between the two beings.

 

I enjoyed the read and will definitely be checking out more of your stuff. Good work!

 

The suggestion I most want to make is: Trust the reader to remember details and figure things out on their own.

 

It can be tempting to push the details we think are important and/or interesting as much as possible, but there's no need. For example, you mention black eyes and black feathers/plumage numerous times throughout the story; the deion only needs to be given once. As a reader, I didn't need the reminders and found that they got in the way of me enjoying your awesome story.

 

Additionally, some deions are unnecessary in the first place. For example, if I was writing about a cloud it would be silly of me to describe it as white and fluffy because when someone hears/reads the word 'cloud', white and fluffy automatically come to mind. Taking out that deion would make for a cleaner read. I would be better off describing aspects of the cloud which were unusual, such as if it was a weird colour or bizarrely shaped.

  

I also think that your writing would benefit immensely if you were more careful with modifiers. Be confident with the story you're telling; loading it with modifiers it doesn't need only detracts.

 

Adjectives and adverbs are weak. Nouns and verbs are strong. Modifiers should be used sparingly and chosen with care.

 

Here are some parts I enjoyed from your story:

“He glided over to her and their wings brushed, causing them both to shiver. They cast their eyes up into the sky and felt their souls begin to shift, to drift away from their earthly bodies.”

 

“The sun continued to rise behind them and in a split second, they were equal. Sun and moon met on the edges of the earth and the two ravens found their way back. They entered their true bodies once again, but still, their spirits caressed their feathers before truly melding with mortal flesh.”

 

The language is strong and the scene plays like a movie. Uninterrupted by weak modifiers/deions, I can visualise everything easily. Good job!

 

Conversely, here is a part that was less engaging:

She watched as his once-beautiful white feathers succumbed to darkness, the tips of his plumage folding slightly under their new dark weight. She knew what he saw: her own black feathers wilting, rolling into new ones the color of white sugar. She blinked painfully as fire seared through her eyes and when she opened them, her gaze found his. His milky white eyes met hers before he shivered. The sun had inched its way upward into the sky and there was no longer balance; the two could not be together.

 

It's unfortunate because sandwiched between all of the weak modifiers is a very important part of the story. I think it's better off a little rawer. I would have written it more like this:

 

She watched him succumb to the darkness, the once-beautiful tips of his feathers folded under their new weight. She knew what he was seeing: Her feathers first wilted and then re-emerged, not a trace of blackness remaining. Fire seared through her eyes and she closed them. When she opened them again, their eyes met and he shivered.

 

The sun inched its way into the sky. There was no longer balance; the two could not be together.

 

So that's pretty quick and crap, but it gets my point across. It's a lot shorter (word economy is incredibly important in short stories) and the actions are linear (avoid the word 'as') for better flow.

 

The last thing I want to mention is active and passive voice. The active voice is almost always better in fiction for so many reasons. In short, active voice is clearer, usually uses fewer words and gives more opportunities to use strong language (verbs, nouns) while the passive voice is often full of weak language (prepositions, articles).

 

Active voice example: shadowfax wrote this awesome story.

Passive voice example: This awesome story was written by shadowfax.

 

I hope my opinions are useful to you; take what you can use and ignore the rest.

I like your stories and look forward to seeing more of your stuff. You take great care with your writing and it shows.




Arrow

10:33pm Jul 12 2011

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Posts: 3,828

Thank you so much for your input. Honestly, I'm glad you pointed this out because now I think I'm going to write up another draft for it. I really want it to be the best the piece can be.

I think part of my style is writing in elongated sentences when I try to be extremely deive which is something I should try to tone down. Like you suggested, I'll probably go back and take out some of the adjectives that aren't needed. I know for a fact that I use words such as light, dark, white, and black so much, it's overbearing.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and post so much helpful critique. I really appreciate it. I'm also glad you enjoyed the story itself.






hello my name is elder price
Gunmetal

11:04pm Jul 12 2011

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Posts: 130
No worries at all. I'm glad you found it useful and I did enjoy the story. I don't critique very often, but I wanted to give this piece some attention because I could tell you'd put a lot into it.

There are many great authors with deive writing styles—Tolkien is the obvious example. Novels are very different to short stories, though, where economy is much more important.

Good luck with all your future writing.



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