|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 11:01 pm
So here’s the dilemma. I’ve been writing a story called “Days of Fire” and I have everything just about figured out… except the introduction. You see, I’ve written four really good intros and I’m just not sure which one to go with.
The story is about a boy named Stafford who is a sub-race of humans called Voxens. He lives with his father, his stepmother, and his stepsister, Rafire. However, Stafford’s father has another family, one that the stepmother, Iliana, doesn’t know about. When she does find out about them, she goes off the deep end. As if she wasn’t already off her rocker in the first place. She abducts Stafford’s half sister, Penelope… And that is where the story begins.
But like I said, I have so many intros, I’m not sure which one to start with. So if you could, just read a couple of paragraphs from each sample (you don’t have to read all of the intro, like I said, just the first few paragraphs, since there’s tons and tons of pages) and let me know which one sounds more interesting. Which one catches your interest and makes you want to read the story? Because I really need an introduction that’ll captivate my readers and make them want to read more of the story!
The first introduction is with Stafford and his stepmother, Iliana. The second intro is Penelope (the half-sister) and her family, including Stafford and his father. The third intro opens with one of Rafire’s (Stafford’s stepsister's) visions. She wakes to hear Stafford and his father arguing. And the fourth intro is also one of Rafire’s visions… About the Council. Who will also play a huge part in the story.
Anyway, if you could just let me know, it would be greatly appreciated!! ^^; Thanks!
Intro. # 1 – Stafford and Iliana
‘Nothing is ever easy…’ His father’s favorite saying repeated itself over and over in his head like a broken record. Stafford Matton could feel the beginnings of a migraine begin to pound deep within his skull. However no emotion betrayed his thin pale face as he sat across from his stepmother. He stared at her with intense glowing blue eyes… His wavy shoulder-length brunette hair curtained his face as he sat within the comfort of the family living room. Without blinking, he continued staring at her… waiting for her to fall asleep.
Iliana, the boy’s stepmother sat directly across from Stafford. The boy sat on the brown sofa. However, unlike any normal teenage boy, he did not lounge in it with his back resting against the cushions. He sat up straight and tall, his back rigid and his form still. Iliana paid the boy no mind as she sat in her comfortable wooden rocker chair, humming a tune she’d never heard. “How careless is the world… Voices without meaning… Songs without prayer… Hear me darling; I’m fading away again… Why can’t I feel your presence…? I fear I’m slipping away…”
Stafford’s eyes narrowed slightly. The woman was rambling again. Which meant there was absolutely no way she’d fall asleep… Stafford inwardly sighed. It also meant that he wouldn’t be able to sneak out of the house without her noticing. And he had really wanted to see his little sister, too.
Although he didn’t mind Iliana all that much, with all her crazy ramblings and violent outbursts, he did mind her tendency to monitor every single thing he did. He could handle the way she treated his father. After all, it was entirely his fault for marrying the insane woman in the first place. After learning of his father’s affair with a human, he had lost all respect for him. No not because of the affair and not because the affair was, in fact, with a human, but because his father was too coward to leave Iliana.
Or perhaps his father was right. Perhaps Stafford truly was an ignorant teenager who didn’t know what he was talking about. But the way Stafford saw it, if divorcing Iliana meant putting he and his father, Rudy in danger, then having an affair discovered should endanger the both of them ten-fold… right? And it wouldn’t only endanger he and Rudy, but also Rudy’s mistress and her two daughters.
Stafford would never forgive his father if Tessa and her two daughters were harmed because of his father’s horrible judgment. Ever since he had found out he had a half-sister he had steadily grown to love her and her family. He felt closer to them than he had felt to anyone in his whole life… save his mother, of course.
Stafford glanced back at his stepmother. Her cold green eyes stared out into nothing. Her brown hair, the strands abnormally unhealthy and frail, fell over her face, shielding her from the outside world. She had suddenly ceased talking and the dim hope that had left him began to rise once more. Stafford continued staring into her face, never once did he move, never once did he blink.
Sometimes he hated Iliana as much as he hated Rudy. It had nothing to do with Iliana’s personality or the fact that she was completely off her rocker. What really unnerved him was her appearance. She was the only person he had ever met with paler skin than his own. Her skin was so pale, it even appeared at times to be slightly gray. He knew her skin wasn’t really gray and that it was probably the dim lighting in the kitchen that made her skin appear that way… But it always disgusted him to no end. He hated the circles beneath the woman’s eyes that made her seem so much older than she actually was… He couldn’t stand how her arms always fell limply at her sides. She was always too weak to do anything for long. Even something as simple as walking up a staircase would make her exhausted.
As he watched her now, her hands in her lap, her feet rhythmically working her back and forth, back and forth in her chair… He couldn’t stand the sight of her. Her appearance, her weakness, her sickness were caused by an evil equivalent to the evil that had taken his own mother away. It made him sick to look at Iliana… because he knew she was once lively… once normal.
The woman’s eyes fluttered shut and for some reason, the image of the woman’s bland green eyes rolling back into her skull came to mind. Iliana’s soft breathing became even softer and somewhat smoother. Stafford knew she was asleep the moment her head nodded downward, her chin resting against her chest. Stafford let out a huge breath he had not even realized he’d been holding. With as much stealth as he could muster, Stafford stood and quietly tiptoed out of the room, into the kitchen, and out the door that led outside.
Intro. # 2 – Penelope
It was almost a dream… It was the kind of warm spring day that compelled you to wonder whether there was anything else in the world so divine. Everything seemed perfect… The flower petals of blossomed trees that fell elegantly onto the luscious green ground, the vast clear blue sky, the comforting warm summer breeze that blew through the child’s hair… The child… An angel graced by the heavenly scenery… The little girl danced in circles around herself, her delicate arms held up high above her as she skipped around. She wore a beautiful white-laced skirt with a small white sleeveless shirt. Her curly white hair bounced slightly just above the shoulders, yet never seemed to fall out of place despite the many wild turns she made. Her white skirt curled around her ankles rhythmically to her steps and her bare feet seemed to have a mind of their own, stepping in and out wildly yet never faltering once. Her large kind crystal eyes wandered over to her observers and connected with the cold blue eyes of her older half-brother. The seven-year old stopped in mid-twirl, arms still spread out high above her head with one foot off the ground, and flashed the teenager an honest warm grin, showing off her pearly white teeth. The child’s arms dropped by her sides and her fingers grasped the soft fabric of her white-laced skirt.
Gathering up as much composure as she could muster, the girl, Penelope, flounced over to her family and curtsied elegantly. Her mother and father chuckled fondly and began clapping. Again she curtsied before rounding her large innocent eyes on her two older siblings. Her twelve-year old half-sister, Chasity smiled appreciatively at her. The smile wavered on her sickly pale face for a mere second, but the girl caught the small grin easily and her own grin broadened more so.
“You know if I could, I’d dance with you.” Chasity whispered just loud enough for her sister to hear. Her normally dull brown eyes glittered appreciatively. Penelope again curtsied and if possible, her smile expanded even more. Chasity’s flat black hair fell in front of her eyes as she shook her head slightly at her sister’s antics.
She then turned to her brother and tilted her head as she stared up at him. His intense blue eyes were normally devoid of any and all emotion. He’d almost look menacing, the way his brown hair shaped around his thin bony face and shadowed his eyes, if it wasn’t for the warm smile that showed in his eyes. Although he was seated on a chair in the yard, his immense height still showed and he towered over the child.
Penelope continued staring up at him innocently… A glint of amusement, small as it was, flashed in the boy’s sapphire eyes. As much as the he wanted to, he could no longer hold it in. He chuckled softly, letting go of the detached demeanor he usually held. “You’re adorable, Penelope.” He exclaimed softly, his deep voice as smooth as silk. He slumped back in his chair and smiled at his younger sister.
“I could sing too. But it’s really really hard to sing and dance at the same time.” The seven-year old exclaimed. Her voice was melodious and it had an immediate soothing effect as it graced the ears of her family.
“Well then…” The teenager exclaimed softly. “Why don’t you stop dancing and sing for us…?” Penelope twirled once with a wide grin on her face. Her smile however quickly fled from her face and a look of deep concern crossed her pale delicate features. Her brilliant crystal eyes turned towards her sister, who seemed to have slumped over in her seat.
“Chasity…?” The child took a step forward in concern. Her half-sister, unlike herself, was purely human. The human blood in the both of them made them extremely vulnerable and sick.
“I’m fine, Penny…” She whispered. However the girl’s low soft voice barely reached her ears. She coughed a couple of times and then glanced up at her sister with a small sweet smile. “I just… need to get out of the sun…” Penelope’s father, a strong burly man with wavy brunette hair similar to her brother’s, a thick beard, and sharp brown eyes stood from where he was seated and lifted his step-child with one arm.
“I think we’ve had enough fun for today.” Rudy exclaimed softly while kissing the child’s forehead lightly. “Stafford and I should head back home to Iliana.” Penelope’s eyes snapped up to glance at her mother’s. A look of great distaste crossed her old tired black eyes. Penelope knew the woman didn’t approve… but there really was nothing she could do about it. Any thought of abandoning Iliana fled the man when he learned of what had happened to her last husband… Penelope’s innocent mind couldn’t even begin to fathom what she had done to make the man shudder so.
“Does this mean we’re leaving then…?” Stafford spoke up; disappointment filled his normally stoic cold blue eyes. Rudy nodded to his son in response before he turned and took the child inside. Stafford sighed heavily and stood from his spot while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black jacket. Penelope couldn’t understand why her brother would wear anything with sleeves when it was so warm outside. But every time she asked him why we wore that jacket, he would simply shrug and reply, “It’s my security blanket.”
The child walked up to him and wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist. “When will you be back, Stafford?” She asked, emotion set heavily in her voice. It was a human quality of hers. Her mother had once told her all the human qualities she carried from all the voxen qualities.
“I don’t know. Soon, hopefully.” He replied while hugging her in return. “Sing to me if anything happens to Chasity, alright?”
“Okay, I can do that.” Penelope chirped, joy flooding once more into her crystal eyes. The child had a wonderful gift… She could sing. When she sang, her voice had an emotional affect on her listeners. If someone were unhappy, she would sing a cheerful upbeat song to bring him or her back into good spirits. Or if they couldn’t sleep well, she would sing a quiet lullaby… sometimes she didn’t need to sing, humming would be enough… and her listener would immediately fall asleep. But the most amazing thing about her gift was how her voice would echo. When she sang, it was almost as if everything in the world came to an abrupt halt and everything was focused on her voice alone. Her voice could carry for miles and miles… and if focused on a family member, someone she had a telepathic link with, like her brother and her father, she could reach their ears from anywhere on their home planet.
“I’ll see you sometimes soon, okay?” Stafford smiled, patting her head gently as their father came back out swinging a key chain with the car key around his finger all the while whistling. Stafford smiled at the sight. His father had always been a very laid-back easy going man. He was never one to jump to conclusions or snap without reason. Normally, throughout any situation, he always remained calm and collected.
“Okay. See ya Stafford! Bye dad!” The child exclaimed, wide smile once more on her face. She continued waving until the vehicle was out of sight. “You think they’ll be alright?”
Her mother, a fair beautiful woman with ebony hair and flat black eyes finally stood up. “They always are.” She replied sourly. The child wrinkled her nose in distaste. Her mother, it seemed, was always in a bad mood every time her father left with Stafford. No… her mother was always in a bad mood. With a shrug of her shoulders, she followed her mother inside the house.
Intro. # 3 – Rafire
At first there was only darkness… Seven beacons of light came into view, dancing amongst the darkness in a frenzied manner. In the center, something flashed. A face… an incinerated face continually flashed in the center of the seven beams of light. Again there was darkness… A boy with wavy brown hair now stood amongst the darkness. A sun rose and set hundreds of dozens of times, indicating time… yet his face never once changed despite the many years. A shadow, a light, and a burning fire danced around his image, intermingling and fighting. The boy faded into the nothingness and in his place was five dragons. They flew rapidly in circles around a mountain of ashes. The mountain rose, a dragon of ashes, far larger than the five combined. Once again, the seven beacons of light returned and all but attacked the ashen dragon. Darkness once more… A little girl came forth… Her curly white hair, diamond eyes, pale skin, and white gown stood out against the blackness. She stood in front of a golden-framed mirror. While her face remained the same, in the mirror, she aged and aged until she was an old rotted women… The mirror shattered and the girl was enveloped in the darkness… She opened her mouth to sing, but no melody came forth… Her sorrow flooded the dark scenery as rushing rivers collided into each other, drowning the white child in its flooding rapids. The turmoil of the rushing waters drove fear into the heart of the dreamer… Threatening to devour them whole and enrapture them in an eternal slumber… And then finally, there was darkness…
Rafire bolted upright in her bed, hand clutching her chest where her heart rapidly beat. The rivers… She glanced around wildly, half expecting to be drowned by the white-haired child’s sorrow…
Rafire tied her curly brown hair back using the hair tie she always kept around her wrist. Her soft delicate fingers nervously poked at her own face, making sure she was still there and awake. She glanced down at herself, if only to make sure she was still in one piece. She was wearing her daytime clothing, blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a thin navy blue sweater that complimented her slim body, and her plain black shoes. She could here voices in the kitchen, the room on the other side of the wall. Reality flooded back into the eighteen-year old. She was in her new home living with her stepbrother, Stafford Matton and her stepfather, Rudy Matton. The girl concentrated on their voices, piecing together their heated conversation.
“I am not at fault here for Iliana’s actions!” A man’s gruff voice growled out softly… but not soft enough. Rafire could here the man’s soft yet firm voice perfectly through the paper-thin wall. They were talking about her mother… fear rose up once more in her throat. Why would they be talking about her? Had they been found once more?
“Whether you are or are not is for Iliana and Rafire to decide. While I do not blame you for the women’s actions, I do blame you for a more pressing matter.” Stafford, Rafire’s stepbrother snapped back at his father, controlled anger seeping in his voice. Rafire could picture the boy in her mind now… standing straight and tall as he always did with his arms across his chest. Stafford had a way of getting his point across… whether it was his use of words or the way he held himself in an argument, Rafire would never know.
“There is nothing I can do for Penelope! Right now, my main priority is to get you and Rafire to safety… We can’t help her if we, ourselves, are in peril!” Rudy exclaimed with frustration, slamming his hand against the wall and causing Rafire to jump.
“Are we in peril?” Stafford asked, echoing Rafire’s own thoughts.
There was a long pause… the tension grew as the silence lengthened. Finally, the man replied, “It will not be long until we are found once more.” And that’s why we haven’t unpacked… Rafire thought, realization dawning on her.
“Then we should leave.” Stafford said softly after a long pause. Although Rafire knew all his instincts were leaning towards retrieving the abducted child, Penelope, Stafford always went with common sense.
“Yes, but-“ Stafford interrupted his father, all patience leaving him.
“I have already lost a sister to that accursed women! I refuse to give her any reason to harm Penelope, too!” There was a loud crash and Rafire leapt out of her seat. She ran to the kitchen… only to find the two glaring each other down. The cupboards were wide open and all the glass cups were shattered on the floor. Rafire gaped, automatically assuming what had happened. She glanced from the older man, who had unruly brown hair, tired red-rimmed blue eyes, an unshaved face, and rumpled old clothing to her younger brother. Although he was only seventeen, his knowledge and wisdom went far beyond Rudy’s. He had neat wavy brown hair that sat just about his shoulders and neat clean clothes that clung to his tall slim features. He turned his head, unnatural blue eyes connecting with Rafire’s bright emerald ones. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” He said to her respectfully. “I somewhat lost… my temper.”
“Somewhat…?” Rafire asked in a shaky voice, glancing at the shattered cups. It was rare for Stafford to use his telekinetic abilities, but lately it seemed, he had no qualms with hiding his immense power. Perhaps it was because of Iliana, Rafire’s mother or simply because he was always so angry these days.
“If you’ll excuse me, Father.” Stafford snarled, brushing past the tired old man. Gracefully, he swept out of the room and out of the house.
Rudy shook his head and sighed heavily. He crossed the room, his shoes crunching over the broken glass and stared out the window of the door that led outside. “I am sorry we disturbed you, Rafire.”
“You didn’t disturb me.” She explained softly. “I was having a nightmare anyway.” Rudy nodded, his guilt lifting somewhat. “I guess we’ll be moving once again, huh?”
“Seems that way…” He muttered quietly.
“Eh…” Rafire muttered. She hated the silence… Rudy never was one to talk much. She glanced up at him hopefully. Her face fell, as she saw his eyes glazed over. He was obviously deep in though. “I’m going to go bug Stafford some… At least he pays attention to me.” She exclaimed. She glanced up once more at the man. He had not heard her. She rolled her eyes and rushed out of the house, running towards the receding figure of her stepbrother.
Intro. # 4 – The Council
"Robert E. Henson..." An old man in a clean brown suit glared down at a young twenty-four year old man. "You have been found guilty of the following charges:" The man, Carson Douglas, who held quite an affinity of serious situations, stared at the empty seats of the courtroom. Again, he opened his mouth to speak and stared gravely at the empty seats, as if real people sat in them. "My good men, this is not an official courtroom and I am not an official judge. So if we can just cut to the chase..." The man's cold black eyes stared hard at the young man seated directly in front of him: Robert E. Henson. The boy shifted uncomfortably, but met the man's hard stare with shifty brown eyes. He ran a shaky hand through his unruly brown hair. Taking in his appearance, Carson could tell the boy had not slept in days, had not bathed in weeks, and hardly ever ate. It was the exact appearance he expected of the man who had led a group of rebels. The man, having always been on the move all the while trying to keep his men safe, wouldn't have had the time, much less cared, to have taken care of himself... hence his roughed up dirty appearance.
Carson snorted in disgust and continued. "That man..." He jabbed his thumb rudely at the boy. "Is a traitor and a disgrace to the Council." He waved his hand respectfully behind him where five men sat. From left to right on the chairs, which looked far more like thrones to Carson, read the men's names. 1. David Morvatti. In this chair was a young eighteen-year old man whose dull brown eyes bore into Carson's back in a bored fashion. 2. Thomas Wilson. The man in this chair had cold blue eyes and neat graying hair. He was in his mid-sixties but looked young despite his old age. The man's thumb twitched repeatedly as he anxiously waited for Carson to finish his speech. 3. Carson Douglas. This seat, obviously being empty, was cushioned more extensively then the other chairs. Carson, being at a tender old age of seventy-two, had a severe back pain. The man could not stand straight properly and he now leaned slightly on the podium for support. Even with his back pains, the man had insisted to carry out the punishment as dramatically as the other council members would allow. 4. David Palmey. This man was in his early-thirties. He wore thick black glasses that seemed to magnify his soft brown eyes. The man pulled gently at his black hair restlessly. 5. This chair was empty with no nametag. The chair had once belonged to Robert E. Henson, the young man who now sat nervously shifting in front of Carson. 6. Andrew McCarty. Here, was a young twenty-one year old man who slept peacefully throughout the whole ordeal, his head resting on his fist awkwardly. 7. Alexander Setch. He was a man in his mid-thirties with brown hair and hazel eyes. He quietly stared from one councilman to the next, waiting to see what would happen.
"He has been charged with treachery, thievery, arsenal, and murder... among many other crimes. His sentence... You, Robert E. Henson, fifth member of the Council, will spend the rest of your entity on the planet of Aribliss... a place of violence and hatred." Carson leaned heavily on the podium, staring out into faces only he could see. "Court adjourned... or however they used to say it..."
"Carson!" The man seated in the second chair, Thomas Wilson, spoke up with a sharp tone. Carson looked back at him, clearly annoyed.
"Yeah? What is it, Thomas?" He growled out. The two had never gotten along before and he hadn't expected them to start today.
"For so many crimes committed... I don't think simply exiling this traitor will suffice." Thomas Wilson's cold blue eyes fell on the accused. "And betraying the Council is enough to earn a death sentence."
"Agreed." Alexander murmured, nodding his head as he searched for approval from the others.
"Are you suggesting a death sentence then?" Douglas asked, his eyes clouding with disapproval.
"Of course not, of course not. I'm suggesting something a little more severe. Something that'll torment this man for the rest of his miserable life." The man's cold blue eyes gleamed maliciously.
"One would think being on Aribliss is torment enough... or do you not remember what we've done with the world?" Carson snarled back at Thomas.
"It is beautiful... the havoc we've wrecked on that innocent little planet... Almost as brilliant as the destruction we've caused on Earth. However, I do not think simply living there will be torment enough." Carson snorted with disbelief at this statement. "Morvatti..." Thomas turned to the man seated next to him. "As head of the Council, what do you suggest?"
David's brown eyes shifted from Carson to Thomas. His dark blonde hair fell in front of his eyes and the young man shook his head, moving the bangs out of his eyes. Small actions such as this reminded the older men just how young the head of the Council truly was... however this thought fled Thomas Wilson's mind as the young man's brown eyes glared threateningly at him. Thomas shifted uneasily in his seat, causing the younger man to smirk. Thomas inwardly scowled; the boy, as young as he was, always had a way of making everyone in the room squirm with just a simple glance... and he enjoyed doing it too. David's eyes dulled as he became bored once more. "Partial Memory Loss." He murmured just barely loud enough for Carson to hear him. He then stood up and walked out of the empty courtroom.
Anyway, there you have it! So if you could lemme know which intro you liked best… And any suggestions you have… I will be forever indebted to you!
Also, if you liked those intros, I can post more of the actual story at some point. ^^; Thanks!
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 2:48 am
I love the way the first one starts out. It captures your attention and makes you crave for more
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 5:53 am
Thank you Crimson!! The very first intro was the one I recently wrote... I figured it'd be easier to introduce Iliana's character better if I had her in the very first scene, ya know?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 7:07 am
I love this already! I cant wait until the first few chapters get finished. But yeah, I like the First Intro the Best.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 10, 2007 2:48 pm
^^ Another one for the first intro!! Why'd you two like that one the best...?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 3:38 pm
Crimson Claws I love the way the first one starts out. It captures your attention and makes you crave for more I dont know about "crave" as the word for me , but it certainly is more catchy.
|
|
|
|
|
|
hardkoreUSMC Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 6:49 pm
Not craving for more HardKore??? XD Aww, but you liked the first one the best too? Huh. I'm gonna have to go with that one then. ^^; Thank you all so very much!!!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 5:58 pm
Hmm. I like the third one best. I don't know, but I really like introductions that leave a lot of explaining to do-- when I start reading a dream, I want to know what it means, and I always love it when the author ties it in to the rest of the story. It also gives a good feel for the characters.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
![x [Tugged] x's avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/a2/e3/58fa7b35ee3a2_flip.png?t=1194108113_6.00_00)
