When Dharan built the library, he did it to serve the King. Over twenty-tens of years ago, he’d set the first stones of the foundation for the repository of records, journals, and even a few spell books that he didn’t want falling into the grasping clutches of the Mages hands. Dharan also set his limited magic into the cold iron bars he placed across the library’s threshold. He didn’t hold much trust with the immortal race calling themselves from the Venovrain when they descended from the northern mists.
Before he died, he passed the keeping of the main catalogue to his daughter, who in turn gave it to a nephew, and so on it went for years until today, when the last keeper was buried in the Cathedral crypt. Dead from the plague gripping the kingdom of Imrees. Dead without naming a successor.

[This message has been edited by mommiller (edited April 23, 2009).]
 

In the opposite, when I'm in synch with and following along with a subjective narrator's inherent judgments of and attitudes toward a theme, topic, motif, character, and/or subject, I feel like I have a vested interest and am directly participating in a story.

Either an objective or subjective narrative point of view, or one as a timely auxiliary of the other, puts me into a story's picture as an internal observer. However, when a narrator is standing in front of me telling the picture, I stand outside the picture. Blocked by a narrator's summary or explanation, I can't see the picture. Even when a small passage of summary or explanatory exposition--even a single sentence fragment--conveys necessary information directly from a narrator, I feel like I'm detached from a story's picture.
 

The tower's history is interesting to me and integral to the plot, but I'm trying to reveal it in simple teeny chunks, rather than give it all at the start.

I think that here, the start should be later in your narrative, and should begin with the first immediate impact on the MC. I know it has been said a lot but it is so important to get the MC up and running ASAP. As it stands now, it could be a history class.

Hope this is useful.

D

[This message has been edited by Dame (edited April 23, 2009).]
 

The opening would work better, for example, if some one, the MC ideally,tries to enter the library and Dharan's magical wards work. Then you have the opportunity to weave in the issue with the librarian.

It's the tell vs. show issue. Here's an idea. If after you've written your opening and you don't have the answer to the question, so what? It won't be engaging.

For example, if Wendulu arrives on the scene and finds a piece of evidence at odds with the mages, the 'so what' is Wendulu has found a discontinuity... what is it? I'm engaged.

In this opening the Library has lost its Librarian. so what? Assuming the wards are still in place, the immortals can't get in and the mages can't get in. No mystery, no tension. The library is protected. Everything is safe, I'm not engaged.

I hope that helps. Send it along when you're done.

- Owasm
 

I've been having a tough time with the opening of this story, both which have been from my MCs character. Having run that ship aground twice, I thought I'd try a different tack, which is what you see here.

FWIW, the very next line is fully in my MC's POV, her name is Ebla btw, and she's half human/half Venovrian, and thus able to slip past the rather simple wards...
 

I'll read it when you're ready.
 

Why didn’t you feel the first two attempts worked? As Owasm has noted, this is basically a direct info-dump. You’re better off being patient with this information and slowly weaving it around the protagonist entering the library. I might be able to have a look next week, depending on my critique speed.

Nick

 

Here's a second swipe at it, combining a bit of my old beginning and the line one of my bestest writing buddies says rocks.

Can't wait to hear what y'all think...

The library didn't begrudge Ebla's half humanity, but it did nothing to welcome her either. Table edges jutted outward to catch painfully on her hips, while the carved wooden chairs would shift just enough to stub her toes.
The worst was the heavy iron bars hammered by Dharan himself into the blue stone floor. He did it to spite her mother's people more than forty double handfuls of years ago, when Ebla was still young enough to hide within the flap of her father's cloak. It was a long time ago, but Ebla possessed the long memory of her immortal kin.

[This message has been edited by mommiller (edited April 25, 2009).]
 

This one puts the reader into the scene, but I hope a hook is around the corner. There's not one here. Is it hidden behind the flap of father's cloak?

There's more than enough here to push me forward.
 

When it's ready, send it on. I'll read it.