Hi Everyone!
I am new to writing and have been doing it in my spare time as a distraction. I don’t know any other writers and apart from family I don’t have anyone to ask for genuine feedback. I would really appreciate if you could help out. I have already written about 45000 words (about half the book) and have the plot fairly well laid out and characters set. What I guess I need to know is though is apart from the terrible grammar (not my best point) is the writing of interest and does it make sense?? I know that it has a “unique” style but I am hoping that falls in my favor and not against it. Anyway I have grabbed just a snapshot below of part of the first chapter and FYI if anyone likes it and knows of an agent who maybe would…?!? Lol.
It’s still the first draft so feel free to comment away
Thanks again.
Vanessa
He realized they had arrived at a rather shabby looking early nineteenth century style white inn. A greying sign swung lifeless in the laneway with a sign saying Pegasus Arms and wisteria grew up from the roadside past the ground floor window to the second story to hang from it. Apart from this dilapidated building they had not seen nor heard from another thing since they started riding but John could hear music coming from inside. It was old honky tonk style, the kind he had heard them play in the spaghetti westerns his Granny enjoyed watching from time to time. He half expected the front doors to turn into a saloon bar and Clint Eastwood himself to come sauntering out.
“Just hop off and come inside” said Michael “Sam is expecting you. Must say it was mighty good of you to arrive so close, I was half expecting a long journey. I didn’t want to conjure a plane or dragon ride in these parts as it draws too much attention so this has been most convenient.”
Slipping inside the big white doors John paused before following him in.
The house looked deceptively small from the outside. Inside it opened into a large drawing room with a bar at the end. On the right hand wall sat a rather stout looking fellow with a large moustache plonking loudly at the piano. His raucous music seemed to draw no end of delight from his buxom female companion who, if John was correct, appeared to have consumed rather a large amount of wine given the redness of her complexion and the glass in her hand. At the bar were three shadowy looking figures all in grey suits. They sat rather grim faced grasping beer glasses in their hands and not talking. Apart from the occasional frown in the direction of the piano, they appeared to be rather unsocial. The bartender was a slim older man with silvering hair. He was slight of frame and wore glasses, and had a white bar tenders apron tied to his waist. He was watching with a distracted eye to the patrons whilst cleaning the counter. Upon the boys entry his eyes picked up and without saying a word motioned them toward the back stairs. The grey suits all lifted their gaze too, but barely took notice instead returning to their grim expressions and their drinks.
Michael and John shot up the back stairway and into a smaller room at the back. It was a tidy little office space, with a lovely mahogany desk and Victorian chair. A small window let in what little light it could. The old bartender appeared shortly after.
“Sam” smiled Michael “He made it. And none the worse for wear you will be pleased to know. Didn’t even see a single Ghoul on the road. Lucky for us he appeared just down by Greystones”
“Well we will take all the luck we get boy” said Sam with a voice a little gruffer than John had anticipated. “Do we know how long we have him for this time?”
“No idea. Guess we had better make sure he gets up to speed as quick as possible in case he flicks back. Do you really think Jo is right and that he is going to be the Oracle?”
“Only time will tell boy. But we all know that the circle has almost swung fully round, and we all know what that means. We better hope we made the right choice for everyones sake.”
John was feeling very confused. Oracle? He felt a bit like a piece of meat being inspected at the butchery. What exactly was he being chosen for here and what were they expecting of him?
“Umm what exactly are you talking about?” John intervened
“You’ll find out soon enough boy” gruffed Sam. “Right now your on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know everything. What you do need to know is how to stay alive. So - what did your Mom tell you about the Ghouls?”
John tried to recall his dream about his mother.
“Something about energies and good and bad. I think they were the bad ones?”
“Well I guess thats a start. Although she sure bloody sugar coated it. Righty ho then, lets get cracking Michael. Its time for you to teach the boy some Ghoul basics. And don’t be afraid to be a little graphic boy. The sooner we scare the shite out of the kid, the better.”
And with that Sam turned and headed back off down the stairs.
Michael turned and looked at John with a sad smile.
“I’m sorry John but Sam’s right. Jo’s not doing you any favours by sugar coating this story. Let me start at the beginning and then maybe you will find it a little easier to understand. I will start with how Ghouls and Imprints came into being.”
Sorry I won’t give anymore away at this point (unless your interested in the story!!) …