Page critique Thursday 2/27/20

Offer up your page (or query) for Nathan's critique on the blog.
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Nathan Bransford
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Joined: December 4th, 2009, 11:17 pm
Location: New York, NY

Page critique Thursday 2/27/20

Post by Nathan Bransford » February 24th, 2020, 1:14 pm

Below is the page up for critique on the blog on Tuesday, June 13th. Feel free to chime in with comments, create your own redline (please note the "font colour" button above the posting box, which looks like a drop of ink), and otherwise offer feedback. When offering your feedback, please please remember to be polite and constructive. In order to leave a comment you will need to register an account in the Forums, which should be self-explanatory.

I'll be back on Thursday with my own post on the blog and we'll literally be able to compare notes.

If you'd like to enter a page for a future Page Critique, please do so here.

Title: The Sorgin's Apprentice *or* The Sleeper at the Crossroads
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy

Annwyn awoke to the discomfort of twigs and rocks pressing into her back through her jacket and pajama top. She opened her eyes. A web of blood-red manzanita branches confronted her, stark against a pale, post-dawn sky.

She sat up quickly, becoming aware of bare ankles cold above untied sneakers, bunched-up pajamas under her jeans. Her heart pounded. Looking around, she recognized where she was—at the top of the hill just across the meadow near their new house—with no memory of getting there.

But she recalled the dream, if that’s what it was. Half closing her eyes she reached back into the memory.

She had quickly realized two things, that she was asleep—how could she know this?—and then the more shocking fact: that there was a whirl of energy—in front of her? inside her? or nowhere in particular, just here— that seemed to contain all knowledge, timeless and eternal. Any question could be answered if she could only focus purely enough.

Amazement had threatened to crash her through into full waking, but she held herself fiercely still, enlisted every nerve to concentrate, to abide in this moment. She longed to somehow prove it was real, this experience that was overturning the rules of perception. She yearned to take this back with her into the light of day. So she groped blindly, for a question, a test, and grabbed the first that came: the future—what’s in my future?

In the darkness, images had emerged.

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