Looking for some critics - Rape Board

shysnale · 08-30-2006, 09:07 AM

Hey guys.

I've been writing short stories and trying to get them published here in France for 9 years to no avail. I'm thinking about translating my stuff in English and try to send my work abroad. The longuest stuff I wrote is 80 pages, so it's possible but indeed a lot of work.

I have started to translate a page and half and pasted the result pasted below. What I'm asking you if you got five minutes is to put yourself in a native english speaker publisher reading my stuff.

I konw you guys are busy and I am not asking for a very accurate litteral criticism but just tell me honestly what would be your answer as a publisher.

- ~#@]@###^^ !!
- Keep your day job little kid.
- Learn English you frog.
- Not bad but keep refining your english..
- other answers .....

Thanks

____Snale

Unexpected influence

Some adventures have a consequence on our destiny which is as influential as an evening wind on nature.

By this time of my life, every hour was like a step to a desire which reached its paroxysm at the end of the day, with that moment I loved so much:

The sight of darkness spreading all over the long valley down to our domain, hitting in an absurd way the cyclopean vaults of the strange forest that monopolized my childish fears.
Never as a child had I dared make real that nightmare of being alone in a glade of that forest when it gets dark. That idea was so exciting to me that when I thought of it, I felt my conservative education exercising its authority on my mind. But the temptation was too strong and I just couldn't leave it there.

I can remember this first time, this intense transgression, topping many of the teenage difficulties which came to me later. The border of the forest was so hostile, the transition between itself and the plain was so rude, that I felt very intimidated by the idea of been surrounded by that shroud of gigantic trees and charicatured vegetation. I was basically face to face with the crucial stage of crossing the edge. I can remember the method I used to reach my goal. Facing the trees, I worked myself into such an emotional state which led me to a mental block. I realized I could never overcome that emotion in any straightforward way. So I decided to progress with my head leaned down, raising my hands in front of me. I had to focus deeply before I could move forward.

I couldn't make it without some kind of a 'juvenile war cry' which helped me get over the trees border. The next thing I had to do was to convince myself that what I felt with the tips of my fingers was no more than brambles and bushes, and not one of the ghostly beings haunting the
universe set up by my imagination. A certain period was necessary for me to reopen my eyes. I remember a funny thing, which was that I could not stand to open them looking in front of me, and I had to turn around and look behind to see the plain one last time before I went any further in the forest.

Once I refound some courage and a clear mind, I started to move toward my fears. The first steps were not the most difficult as the ground was quite flat, but the real problems happened a little further on. The flora was getting really anarchic.
Some huge openings in the earth were showing really weird movements in the vegetation, like a relief that some roots were making by growing up out of the ground in absurd ways. My progression was particularly slow and difficult. This, combined with the psychological pressure, and that forest rapidly exhausted me.

It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up. The way got a bit better and offered a pleasant and regular path which led me to an unusual spectacle. I found myself standing on a natural elevation which could probably be compared to a claw pointing to the sky if it was seen in profile. From that height I could see some kind of indefinable void below me. It seemed like a void, but the original impression was that I could not see the bottom. A morbid heap of bushes without any leaves, asserting its horribleness by some sort of profusion of twigs, grew up there. These twigs filled out the gaps in the leaves. Something very expressive was coming out that heap. An indefinable perspective found its source at the heap's base and expressed its style all along the stems to finally brush against my face with its twisted tips. I don't think that promiscuity was the only reason for the emotion growing in my mind. Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw. When the wind that moved that heap got stronger and made it touch my face with its extremities, I was paralyzed by an ecstatic fear which made me unable to notice a presence. When I was submitted to the mechanism of my intuition, something else happened and cleared the situation. As the wind leaned the heap on its left, I saw a long and spindly silhouette with a spectral profile. Of course the hypothesis of a trunk which grew up behind the heap came to my mind after I ran all my way back to my bedroom. I probably brushed against reality with that hypothesis as closely as I did with the heap, but I discovered that night one of the most amazing aspects of my tastes, which became the main influence of my artistic career. At the second that I saw that silhouette, this feeling came to my mind:

The seduction of beauty.

The undefinable sensation of ravishment. The ravishment of the new.
The fact that from this silhouette, a particularly genuine aesthetic was
rising up and dedicated me to the values of avant-garde art.

***

somedude · 08-30-2006, 12:49 PM

*Takes off moderator hat and puts on writer in residence hat*
I have no idea what that would be like in French, but in English it was like reading H.P. Lovecraft if he wrote as a grade schooler with a thesaurus. Too many big words, many used in the wrong context and an overall sense of WTF. To conclude, stick to French and keep your day job!

shysnale · 08-30-2006, 01:13 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by somedude

*Takes off moderator hat and puts on writer in residence hat*
I have no idea what that would be like in French, but in English it was like reading H.P. Lovecraft if he wrote as a grade schooler with a thesaurus. Too many big words, many used in the wrong context and an overall sense of WTF. To conclude, stick to French and keep your day job!

Thanks for that. Have you been a long time Lovecraft reader ? What does WTF stands for ?

somedude · 08-30-2006, 02:33 PM

Means what the fuck. Which is the feeling I've always gotten when reading Lovecraft!

joey · 08-31-2006, 12:18 AM

By all means keep writing. As English is not your first language, I must say I sort of enjoyed reading the post. However, that being said, "cyclopean vaults" and "charicatured vegatation" are a bit over the top. If they are terms that suffer in translation fine, but if not then unless they are products of your standard vocabulary I think they lend a stilted, repressive nature to the prose, and I'm sure that is not your attention. Actually reminds me somewhat of Nathanial Hawthorne. We were all forced to read "House of the Seven Gables" in high school in U.S., and at 15 years old we didn't know what he was talking about.

shysnale · 08-31-2006, 01:34 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by joey

By all means keep writing. As English is not your first language, I must say I sort of enjoyed reading the post. However, that being said, "cyclopean vaults" and "charicatured vegatation" are a bit over the top. If they are terms that suffer in translation fine, but if not then unless they are products of your standard vocabulary I think they lend a stilted, repressive nature to the prose, and I'm sure that is not your attention. Actually reminds me somewhat of Nathanial Hawthorne. We were all forced to read "House of the Seven Gables" in high school in U.S., and at 15 years old we didn't know what he was talking about.

thank you very much joey for taking the time to read me. An English pen pal made exactly the same comment about the misplaced 'big words', and Lovecraft is one of my main influences. So your critics (you & somedude) are accurate.

subgirl · 08-31-2006, 02:31 AM

hello my frog friend keep it up i still write i whorst speller ever so keep up good work u only get better

Sodoman · 08-31-2006, 03:44 AM

It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up.

OK, my turn.

I liked the story for the most part, I only have a few things to comment on. This sentence does not tell me if you physically or mentally discovered the place? So making that a bit more clear would be a good idea.

Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw.

For me, these lines are a bit confusing as well. Rewording them might undo some of the confusion.

The only other issue is the use of big words that are not needed, such as, cyclopean vaults, charicatured (though I'm not so sure you didn't mean charactered, still sounds a bit too descriptive), refound, just drop the re and your fine with this, anarchic, not sure of meaning?, and finally, indefinable. You use this word 3 times and that may be 3 times too many but at least 2 times too many.

OK, now remember Shysnale I'm no pro writer, critic, or publisher. So these thoughts are just my opinions. I liked the story in all. If I were a publisher I'd say some changes need to be made and it should be fine after that. I'd like to read more of your stories once you translate them. I enjoyed the read.

shysnale · 09-01-2006, 02:11 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by subgirl

hello my frog friend keep it up i still write i whorst speller ever so keep up good work u only get better

thank you subGirl !

shysnale · 09-01-2006, 02:22 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sodoman

It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up.

OK, my turn.

I liked the story for the most part, I only have a few things to comment on. This sentence does not tell me if you physically or mentally discovered the place? So making that a bit more clear would be a good idea.

Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw.

For me, these lines are a bit confusing as well. Rewording them might undo some of the confusion.

The only other issue is the use of big words that are not needed, such as, cyclopean vaults, charicatured (though I'm not so sure you didn't mean charactered, still sounds a bit too descriptive), refound, just drop the re and your fine with this, anarchic, not sure of meaning?, and finally, indefinable. You use this word 3 times and that may be 3 times too many but at least 2 times too many.

OK, now remember Shysnale I'm no pro writer, critic, or publisher. So these thoughts are just my opinions. I liked the story in all. If I were a publisher I'd say some changes need to be made and it should be fine after that. I'd like to read more of your stories once you translate them. I enjoyed the read.

thank you so much Sodoman, you're great.

//It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up. // that's because you are more emotive when you're about to give up something. If you finally go for it and realize it was worthy then the joy is doubled.

//Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw.//

As Grm said before, your mind has an ability to 'zap' things he doesn't want to realise. When the character finds himself all alone above that morbid heap of bushes, he feels like it is a living creature, his feeling become so strong that he refuses to realize the bushes are moving (from the wind)

I thought charicatured meant something so expressive that it makes you think about these drawings meant to represent someone under its best expressions.

Anarchic means the nature growns out of proportion, the bushes, the trees, were'nt treated by any 'land designer' or whatever you call it in english to grow straight.

thks again.

08-30-2006, 09:07 AM	#1
shysnale Neurotic Escargot Join Date: Apr 2006 Location: Poker Table Posts: 2,754 Reputation: 13179	Looking for some critics Hey guys. I've been writing short stories and trying to get them published here in France for 9 years to no avail. I'm thinking about translating my stuff in English and try to send my work abroad. The longuest stuff I wrote is 80 pages, so it's possible but indeed a lot of work. I have started to translate a page and half and pasted the result pasted below. What I'm asking you if you got five minutes is to put yourself in a native english speaker publisher reading my stuff. I konw you guys are busy and I am not asking for a very accurate litteral criticism but just tell me honestly what would be your answer as a publisher. - ~#@]@###^^ !! - Keep your day job little kid. - Learn English you frog. - Not bad but keep refining your english.. - other answers ..... Thanks ____Snale Unexpected influence Some adventures have a consequence on our destiny which is as influential as an evening wind on nature. By this time of my life, every hour was like a step to a desire which reached its paroxysm at the end of the day, with that moment I loved so much: The sight of darkness spreading all over the long valley down to our domain, hitting in an absurd way the cyclopean vaults of the strange forest that monopolized my childish fears. Never as a child had I dared make real that nightmare of being alone in a glade of that forest when it gets dark. That idea was so exciting to me that when I thought of it, I felt my conservative education exercising its authority on my mind. But the temptation was too strong and I just couldn't leave it there. I can remember this first time, this intense transgression, topping many of the teenage difficulties which came to me later. The border of the forest was so hostile, the transition between itself and the plain was so rude, that I felt very intimidated by the idea of been surrounded by that shroud of gigantic trees and charicatured vegetation. I was basically face to face with the crucial stage of crossing the edge. I can remember the method I used to reach my goal. Facing the trees, I worked myself into such an emotional state which led me to a mental block. I realized I could never overcome that emotion in any straightforward way. So I decided to progress with my head leaned down, raising my hands in front of me. I had to focus deeply before I could move forward. I couldn't make it without some kind of a 'juvenile war cry' which helped me get over the trees border. The next thing I had to do was to convince myself that what I felt with the tips of my fingers was no more than brambles and bushes, and not one of the ghostly beings haunting the universe set up by my imagination. A certain period was necessary for me to reopen my eyes. I remember a funny thing, which was that I could not stand to open them looking in front of me, and I had to turn around and look behind to see the plain one last time before I went any further in the forest. Once I refound some courage and a clear mind, I started to move toward my fears. The first steps were not the most difficult as the ground was quite flat, but the real problems happened a little further on. The flora was getting really anarchic. Some huge openings in the earth were showing really weird movements in the vegetation, like a relief that some roots were making by growing up out of the ground in absurd ways. My progression was particularly slow and difficult. This, combined with the psychological pressure, and that forest rapidly exhausted me. It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up. The way got a bit better and offered a pleasant and regular path which led me to an unusual spectacle. I found myself standing on a natural elevation which could probably be compared to a claw pointing to the sky if it was seen in profile. From that height I could see some kind of indefinable void below me. It seemed like a void, but the original impression was that I could not see the bottom. A morbid heap of bushes without any leaves, asserting its horribleness by some sort of profusion of twigs, grew up there. These twigs filled out the gaps in the leaves. Something very expressive was coming out that heap. An indefinable perspective found its source at the heap's base and expressed its style all along the stems to finally brush against my face with its twisted tips. I don't think that promiscuity was the only reason for the emotion growing in my mind. Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw. When the wind that moved that heap got stronger and made it touch my face with its extremities, I was paralyzed by an ecstatic fear which made me unable to notice a presence. When I was submitted to the mechanism of my intuition, something else happened and cleared the situation. As the wind leaned the heap on its left, I saw a long and spindly silhouette with a spectral profile. Of course the hypothesis of a trunk which grew up behind the heap came to my mind after I ran all my way back to my bedroom. I probably brushed against reality with that hypothesis as closely as I did with the heap, but I discovered that night one of the most amazing aspects of my tastes, which became the main influence of my artistic career. At the second that I saw that silhouette, this feeling came to my mind: The seduction of beauty. The undefinable sensation of ravishment. The ravishment of the new. The fact that from this silhouette, a particularly genuine aesthetic was rising up and dedicated me to the values of avant-garde art. ***

08-30-2006, 12:49 PM	#2
somedude W.I.R. and Marshal Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Way out West!!!! Posts: 8,566 Reputation: 124981	Takes off moderator hat and puts on writer in residence hat I have no idea what that would be like in French, but in English it was like reading H.P. Lovecraft if he wrote as a grade schooler with a thesaurus. Too many big words, many used in the wrong context and an overall sense of WTF. To conclude, stick to French and keep your day job! __________________ I'm a pervert and proud of it!

08-30-2006, 02:33 PM	#4
somedude W.I.R. and Marshal Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Way out West!!!! Posts: 8,566 Reputation: 124981	Means what the fuck. Which is the feeling I've always gotten when reading Lovecraft! __________________ I'm a pervert and proud of it!

08-31-2006, 02:31 AM	#7
subgirl super nerd milf Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: san diego calif Posts: 316 Reputation: 3784	keep write hello my frog friend keep it up i still write i whorst speller ever so keep up good work u only get better

08-31-2006, 03:44 AM	#8
Sodoman Backdoor Bandit Join Date: Jul 2006 Location: U.S. Posts: 2,144 Reputation: 28425	It might be interesting to notice that I discovered the place which affected my memory so vividly a few times after I started thinking of giving up. OK, my turn. I liked the story for the most part, I only have a few things to comment on. This sentence does not tell me if you physically or mentally discovered the place? So making that a bit more clear would be a good idea. Beyond the fact that I was alone in that forest far from my family's protection was the movement. The movement I could not tolerate to realize in the first seconds of that situation though it was part of what I saw. For me, these lines are a bit confusing as well. Rewording them might undo some of the confusion. The only other issue is the use of big words that are not needed, such as, cyclopean vaults, charicatured (though I'm not so sure you didn't mean charactered, still sounds a bit too descriptive), refound, just drop the re and your fine with this, anarchic, not sure of meaning?, and finally, indefinable. You use this word 3 times and that may be 3 times too many but at least 2 times too many. OK, now remember Shysnale I'm no pro writer, critic, or publisher. So these thoughts are just my opinions. I liked the story in all. If I were a publisher I'd say some changes need to be made and it should be fine after that. I'd like to read more of your stories once you translate them. I enjoyed the read. __________________ "The mind is a beautiful thing to fuck."

08-31-2006, 12:18 AM	#5
joey Senior Member Join Date: Jan 2006 Posts: 129 Reputation: 1677	By all means keep writing. As English is not your first language, I must say I sort of enjoyed reading the post. However, that being said, "cyclopean vaults" and "charicatured vegatation" are a bit over the top. If they are terms that suffer in translation fine, but if not then unless they are products of your standard vocabulary I think they lend a stilted, repressive nature to the prose, and I'm sure that is not your attention. Actually reminds me somewhat of Nathanial Hawthorne. We were all forced to read "House of the Seven Gables" in high school in U.S., and at 15 years old we didn't know what he was talking about.