Page critique 12/10/20

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
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Page critique 12/10/20

Post by Nathan Bransford » December 7th, 2020, 11:08 am

Below is the page up for critique on the blog on Thursday. 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 later 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: Flight of the Pirate Witch
Genre: YA SFF
Copyright 2020

I was falling, desperately fighting gravity and doubt.

My flying contraption raced downhill at breakneck speed. I could barely keep course down the hillside. Deviation might end in death, or worse, irreparable damage to my machine.

The dead Slayer bat’s seven meter wingspan combined with a modified velocipede were my only hope of escaping my nightmarish home, to reach someplace where no one knew me, where sky pirates did not take what they wanted with impunity.

The memory from my first and only visit on an airship was a black cloud, threatening to overwhelm me. I squeezed my eyes shut, pedaling harder against the horror chasing after me.

Chiroptera could fly if her pilot could overcome her fear.

The only thing holding me back, is myself!

I blindly lurched up a hillock and hurtled into the air.

Weightlessness. I gasped, keeping my eyes clenched shut in disbelief.

Legs burning at the pedals, wings beating so wildly the bones creaked, the wind rushed through the feathers of my hair band, setting my long locks streaming.

Am I really flying?

I dared to squint down and saw the slope two meters beneath my wheels. I was soaring!

Mouth agape, heart leaping, I savored triumph.

Behind me, the golden sun set over a smoldering volcano. A black knife of smoke cut through the light, dripping a bloody glow of reflected lava.

Ahead, bruise colored nightfall swallowed the ocean’s endless horizon. Clouds dimmed into oblivion over the tide’s eternal susurrus. Cold, quiet solitude beckoned.

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