I've tried to lighten up on the prose in this piece. Let me know if this works better, or, if this is your first glance, if it works.

I'm still desperately seeking a few readers for the whole piece before I send it out. It's about 6500 words, Fantasy I suppose.

BTW, a note to my fellow Hatcrit group members, this is not the story I will submit next week.

Anyway, all comments welcome.

Where Gods Walk

“How cloudy the ledger of woes when we dip from the terrible well to drink.”

The Lonely God said this to me long ago, as I stood beside Him on the shore awaiting my beloved’s arrival. This was just before He consigned me to the Watching Place.

I was old, even then, and life had been a tedious walk through a long, empty hall. But He’d spoken this with such sorrow that I was finally broken. There was little that remained of me afterwards, even the strength for weeping.

Later that day, He left me.

I never saw Him again, but I can’t say that displeases me...now. My anger at Him is still fresh and raw, despite the vast gulf of time I’ve crossed since then. It is almost equaled by my guilt that I did His bidding and remained to watch--and by my remorse for condemning the woman I love to suffer in all this, as well.

It is justice that I’m imbrued with this terrifying memory, and it will be so for all of time.

This could be a great story; I like what I see so far.

OTOH I don't like that there was a lot I couldn't see. You offered hints, but the info I wanted to know is known to the narrator, and he's keeping secrets from me. I felt frustrated.

“How cloudy the ledger of woes when we dip from the terrible well to drink.” "THE" SUGGESTS TO ME A PARTICULAR WELL; WHICH ONE? IF IT JUST MEANS "ADVERSITY," THE STATEMENT SEEMS TO SAY "WHEN ADVERSITY HAPPENS, CLOUDINESS HAPPENS" ... OK, I'M CONFUSED. IF THE NARRATOR'S CONFUSED, TOO, OK, BUT I'D WANT A HINT THAT HE/SHE IS.

The Lonely God said this to me long ago, as I stood beside Him on the shore awaiting my beloved’s arrival. This was just before He consigned me to the Watching Place. [WHAT'S THAT?]

I was old, even then, and life had been a tedious walk through a long, empty hall. But He’d spoken this with such sorrow that I was finally broken. There was little that remained of me afterwards, even the strength for weeping. [IS HE/SHE ... OH, I'LL GUESS .. . IS SHE SAYING, SHE'S WEARY? OR THAT SHE'S CONSUMED IN SOME SENSE?]

Later that day, He left me.

I never saw Him again, but I can’t say that displeases me...now. My anger at Him is still fresh and raw, despite the vast gulf of time I’ve crossed since then. It is almost equaled by my guilt that I did His bidding and remained to watch [WHAT DID SHE DO?]--and by my remorse for condemning the woman I love to suffer in all this, as well.[OH. IT'S A MAN.]

It is justice that I’m imbrued with this terrifying memory, and it will be so for all of time. [SO HE'S IMMORTAL ... OR HE'S THINKING OF THE AFTERLIFE. BTW I AM NOT FAMILIAR WITH "IMBRUED." TYPO FOR "IMBUED"?]

I have recorded everything. [IT'S POSSIBLE THAT DROPPING THIS INTRO AND GETTING STRAIGHT TO BUSINESS WILL MAKE THE STORY BETTER -- SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT.]

Thanks for the offer, Mary. I'll send it over shortly, along with my notes about "2 Ordinary Children..."

Thanks for the comments, wbriggs. I seem to be having some of the same problems with this opening as I did before. So, I'm going to ramble for a moment, for the purpose of soliciting some more suggestions.

I'm not ready to scrap this opening yet. The primary reason is that the questions you raised are precisely what I was going for. But, I was hoping to raise them in such a way that the reader trusted I would answer them all. (In so far as they are possible to answer, at least.) The answers to those questions are what this story's about. For the sake of argument though, I'm going to tax the board's patience by posting the next thirteen here:

We called Him the Lonely God, sometimes just the lonely spirit, but He had many names on all the different worlds He’d roamed. On one His name wasn’t spoken, but written as a sigil. Those of that world knew this symbol meant “unspeakable solitude,” and so they did not, lest they be afflicted.

If only I had never uttered His name.

He’d come to the sea in those dying times, because only at the edges of the world could true power be found.

As He walked the wet sands that day, the water lapping respectfully at His golden feet, the world about us seemed to quicken, as if it sensed the approaching moment. And I began to tremble at the Suchness of things out there on the edge.

This next part does have some appeal as an opening, but I felt like it put too much emphasis on the god and on the defining incident of this story, as opposed to emphasizing the narrators plight, and his character. It is (I think) also necessary to establish that the narrator is recounting this from the perspective of having lived with, so to speak, and thought about all this for a very long time. The preamble is also an essential part of the narrator's character: his difficulty in confronting the issue, even after all this time.

Which leads me to the enigmatic metaphor that I opened with. It is the god opening, for the narrator's benefit, a discourse on the nature of self-deluding, self-debilitating decisions. The choice of the word "ledger" was meant to resonate with the concepts of balance in the story, and the choice of the word "well" was an homage to the phrase "well of suffering."

Anyway, this wasn't meant to defend my choices (mostly), as much as it was to express my frustration with this piece. The damn thing's giving me hives. Any help I can get with this would be appreciated.

BTW, good catch on that gender issue. I've switched "...the woman I love" and, "my beloved" to clear that up earlier. Also, imbrue/embrue are legitimate, but with different overtones. I may change it anyway, simply because of how many times it's come up lately.

Thanks again,
Joe

Thanks, NewsBys. I'll send it over. No apology necessary, Muse. You were very clear that you would need some time. And, since I've revised a bit since the version I sent you, it's better to send you this one anyway.

The thing about this that bothers me (and the second section doesn't clear it up) is that I feel ungrounded. It's not just a matter of having questions, it's a matter of not knowing what questions are important. I could be mystified, and still think that what I was reading was great--but only if I'm mystified about a very special subset of possible information. The rest of the stuff, I want to be absolutely clear on. In this, I'm at loose ends. As I read, I come up with questions, but underneath it are much broader questions: Where are we? When are we? Who is anyone?

If you start your story in New York, and the main character is an advertising executive, then when he gets kidnapped for no apparent reason I say, "Huh! Why did they do that?" and I'm hooked to find out why. But if we start out in Lankkromil, and the main character is a drovnor, and he gets zollwillowed--well, even if you tell us WHY he get zollwillowed, I won't know what's going on. And that's what I feel like reading this.

The "ungroundedness" was a part of this piece, too, but I didn't give enough thought to how that would affect the opening. I think I have a good idea how to fix that, and it got me thinking along a line I never would have otherwise.

Thanks mouserah, I like that line too. Paranoia wasn't exactly what I was going for, but I think works well with where I do take it.

Speaking of lines, I loved the quote from Voltaire in your piece--more about that in your topic.

quote:

---

[specific length of time] before the Lonely God me to the Watching Place, as I stood beside him waiting [perhaps refer to what they are going to do with/to his beloved], He said these words to me.

---

I've had a few readers for this piece, and the most important advice I've gotten is on the order in which events unfold. I think the re-write will provide a clearer direction for the opening, and should clear up that sense of too many unanswered questions.

I was curious, Survivor, about your comments about the second 13. The re-ordering of this piece will put this part in a more natural part of the flow, but I wanted to make sure I understood your concern here. Did you think this was out character for the narrator, or was is the phrasing I used that seemed off? If your point is that the narrator simply wouldn't think it was required to explain about the lonely god, I believe the re-write will clarify that this narrator is acutely aware he is telling a story to someone unaquainted with the time/place that the events of the story took place in. Does this address your comment, or did I miss something?

BTW, don't let MaryRobinette catch you flitting around. It would spoil a very silly adventure, and possibly force me to post a (gods forbid) dream sequence to explain it all.

Duly noted. I think the rewrite I have in mind will clear this up.