Guess-The-Author, Analysis, and Critiques: Original Thread - Excellent Reading!

[Secret Master]

Guess-The-Author, Analysis, and Critiques

Alright, folks, here it is, the thread you have all been waiting for. In this thread, we will have postings from our mystery authors, along with critical analysis of said posts and guesses as to who wrote them. Also, this thread will support any administrative items related to Guess-The-Author.

What is Guess-The-Author? Well, here's the short, short version. The Guess-The-Author thread shall be a place where authors may write on a given topic annonymously, for the purpose of analyzing style and content in a fun and useful way.

As discussed in SolAARium, here are the rules.

Rules:

1) Actual story posts will only be submitted by me or the designated person in charge, to retain annonyminty. Critical/guess posts will be made under your own nick.

2) Topics will be picked before anyone writes anything on a particular subject. Topics will be very broad and general, giving authors maximum leeway to write.

3) Authors will be decided upon before writing commences. That is, anyone who wishes to write on a topic must be given a thumbs up by me or the person in charge before going ahead.

4) Posts will have a deadline that they must be in. This is to facilitate all the posts being put up at once, so as to give "equal time" to them, in addition to keeping the manager of the project sane. This also keeps the project rolling, even if one of the authors has unexpected problems.

5) The number of authors writing on any particular topic will be limited to perhaps 5 or 7, as designated by the person in charge. Those wishing to write will have to contact the individual in charge and make proper arrangements.

6) The list of authors will not be provided until a set time has expired. Then all will be revealed.

7) Anyone may offer guesses as to the identity of the author and may post constructive criticism. Spam will not be tolerated, nor outright attacks, as per forum rules. While I am not a mod, I happen to know two of them who live in Canada and who are not afraid to "correct" things.

8) Length of posts will be decided according to individual decsions
of the writting assignment in question.

9) Posts that discuss writing in more general terms should be posted in the SolAARium, not here. Not that we don't want to read them, but everything has it's proper place, from artillery to literary criticism.

Currently, myself (that is, Secret Master) is in charge of this project; however, there is no reason this can, or perhaps even should, be permanent. Also, I cannot take credit for this idea, as it was our very own Director's suggestion.

My email is paelian@hotmail.com

 

[Secret Master]

Now, fellow authors, I shall issue the terms of our first assignment.

Assignment #1:

Write a post regarding a revolt in a non-national province.

Length: 1,000-2,000 words

Number of Authors: Five

Due Date: February 26th, for a posting by the 27th

If this is acceptable to everyone, then anyone who wants to be up for the first assignment can PM me.

Note: Other than the limitations I have established, the authors may take any direction with this that they choose. It might be a revolt against French rule in Mainz, or it might be Prussian troops putting down the revolt in Moscow, or it might just be the story of a husband and wife who see their farm ruined because of marauding peasants. I think the event in question is sufficiently flexible to support just about anything, even Storey's unique writing projects (assuming he wants to even tackle this one...)

 

[Secret Master]

Ok, we are almost ready to post the very first stories.

As a point of interest, since I know who everyone is, I won't post any critiques from me until everyone knows who the authors are. Somehow, not doing that would not be fair. Also, I will be gone tomrrow until Sunday, so I won't post who the authors are at least until then.

Since I have most of them in, I shall begin posting them now...

 

[Secret Master]

Author #1

October 5th,1792

Edo

Yoshimori stepped out into the bright sun. In the old Imperial Palace, he thought. Being the representative, for the time being, of the Chinese overlords, it was his duty to try and sway the rebels from continuing and attempting a successful expulsion of the Chinese. The new self-styled Emperor, Akihito, was based in the Palace and happened to be a friend of Yoshimoris, although they differed greatly in their political views.

The city was very messy from the fighting three days before. Akihito had been planning this for months, almost since the conquest of Japan in December ’91. About half the city was involved in one way or another, another third supported it after learning of it, and the rest were the Chinese who were expelled. Yoshimori knew some people wanted him gone, because of his employers, but luckily many of the higher-ranking conspirators were hid friends. Anyways, he had to climb his way over some large piles of bricks from a fallen wall, and there was a large amount of dung blocking one road for some reason. Yoshimori wisely took a different route.

After struggling though the mess for an hour, Yoshimori arrived at the Palace. Requesting an audience, he took a seat in by the steps. A very short time later, the servant came back. "Of course, His Majesty says." "Good. Show me the way."

The Palace was certainly large. It took several minutes to get to the throne room. "It didn’t take this long before!" complained Yoshimori. "That would be because His Majesty was not in the throne room before, and he is now." "Ah."

"Announcing master Yoshimori." mumbled the servant. "Hello, Your Majesty. I have, ahem, a few things to discuss with you." "Yes, certainly. Have some saki." "No, thank you. I never drink on business, as you know." "You there, get us some saki." "Why… oh, never mind. Now, I ask you, why are you continuing this rebellion when you know you will lose? The Chinese have five hundred thousand men on this island alone." "Why do you insist on not having any honor?" "Oh, is it honor? I think I am a perfectly good judge of honor and I think you are somewhat lacking in that regard. Murder of defenseless people does not give a man honor." "Those deaths were not conducted under my orders. I told them to make the Chinese leave, not die."

The servant came back with the saki. Akihito poured himself a glass and drank. "Anyway, Yoshi, you are my friend. You could at least not complain." "It is precisely because I am your friend that I make this effort. I think you have made a mistake. I was thinking this when you started associating with that Shinden fellow, because you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing." "Why would I tell an official of the Chinese government? I do trust you, but speaking freely on this could have meant total failure." "Exactly. It must fail." "Have some saki." "Argh. I don’t want any! I told you before." "Very well. You are dismissed from my presence." Yoshimori looked at Akihito. He hadn’t really expected this. "All right" he said slowly. "Good bye, Yoshi." "Good bye."

---

Yoshimori was unmarried, so he was able to leave the city without needing to bring more than a few coins, his sword, and his horse, Kami. Someone of his rank in Japanese society always had a sword. He planned to go south, to Nagasaki, where a few childhood friends lived. He had grown up in the countryside near Nagasaki. However, about four hours of riding brought him to something that would delay his trip. An army camp had been set up in his path, and he felt obliged to tell the general what he knew, although the general probably knew enough to make the right decisions. Yoshimori made his way to the general’s tent, which he recognized by the fact that it looked like every other general’s tent he had seen. "Hello, sir. I must congratulate you on your very good guards, who did not attempt to stop my entrance." "No sarcasm needed. We were expecting you. Now, report." Yoshimori didn’t like the fellow, General Qua. Overly militaristic in his manners. "The ringleaders, Emperor Akihito, and a man named Shinden, are based in the Imperial Palace. "How is that possible? The Imperial Palace is not on the islands!" "Japan was a country before the war, you know. I’ll draw you a map showing the easiest way to get there." "I’m familiar with the city of Edo. I don’t need a map." "First of all, you don’t recognize that I refer to the Japanese Imperial Palace, which is in Edo, and second of all, you don’t know what the fighting did to the buildings. It’s quite messy. Now shut up and give me some paper and a pencil." Yoshimori walked over to a chair and sat down. Qua gave him the evil eye when his back was turned, and took some paper and a pencil from his desk. Yoshimori drew up the map, and shoved it across the table to Qua. "Very well," mumbled Qua, "you may leave now." "I’m heading down to Nagasaki, if you need me in the future. I have a few friends and the old family mansion down there." Yoshimori walked out, mounted Kami, and rode away rather more quickly than he needed to. Qua watched him, and slowly turned to the guard by his tent. "I shall have a letter shortly. Yoshimori gave some names, and I wish to have the proper officials aware of who is to be on trial." The guard grunted, thinking it better to capture the people before deciding what the trial would be like, but he didn’t say anything.

---

A servant walked into the dining room. "Letter for you, master Yoshimori." Yoshimori was mildly annoyed to be interrupted during breakfast, but it could very well be important. It was a summon to the trial of the rebels, he found upon reading it. "Mother, I shall have to go to Beijing. The trial, of course. His mother nodded slightly. She was old, and had arthritis so badly she only would talk in the most important circumstances. "Good bye, mother." Yoshimori kissed her and took for the stable.

---

"The trial of the members of the Order of the Expulsion is now begun." Yoshimori stood rather close to the back, close to the door to the hall. The room they were in was on the third floor. Akihito was brought in. As he walked by Yoshimori, Yoshimori mumbled an apology and Akihito spit at him.

The trial was a sham. The conspirators had a confession tortured out of them already, and this was just to make it seem fair to anyone dull enough not to know the procedure of punishment. Akihito said a speech given him by the judge, confessing his guilt, then he was followed by Shinden and a long line of other conspirators. It was rather boring. Then, suddenly, Yoshimori was called up. He had thought he was merely there in his capacity as administrator of Edo, which would mean he just watched the trial. "Yoshimori, you have been accused of treason, in the fact that you did not prevent the revolt from occurring, made no effort to convince the conspirators from abandoning their plans, and abandoned your post in the city." This was very worrying. Probably his guilt had already been decided to exist, but Yoshimori had to make an attempt to defend himself. "This is a farce! I had no idea the conspiracy existed beforehand, tried to talk Akihito out of it, and, of course, I couldn’t do anything in my official capacity when rebels controlled the city!" He noticed Qua grinning at him. He remembered the news that Qua had taken Akihito personally, and thought there probably had been some discussion between the two. Qua was probably the one who did the torturing. "Irrelevant. It stands that you did two out of three things," said the judge. "For this, I sentence you and your fellow conspirators to death." "What? Fellow conspirators?" "Yes. You committed treason, they did, and therefore you are fellows in treason. The execution will occur tomorrow morning by smothering. Court dismissed." Two guards stepped up and grabbed Yoshimoris arms. "Very well, men. Kill me. My best friends were in the conspiracy, and it would be better to die than to live without them." The guards started towards the jail, contained in the same building. They passed by a window, and paused. One of the guards said, "You won’t be seeing the outside much longer, will you?" The other one laughed. The pause was too long, however, and Yoshimori broke their hold and jumped out the window. He landed headfirst, cracked his skull open, and died. Better by far to kill yourself than have another do it for you.

 

[Secret Master]

Author #2

He looked down onto the plain. From the hill where his tent had been erected he had a good view of the spectacle. He sat on a small stool, a table between him and his second in command, Williams. Lamb and bread were on the table, freshly cooked and baked, yet he was not hungry. The mere thought of eating something now made him sick.

“Sire, you haven't taken a bite yet.”

“I am not hungry.”

“Well, you must know best, but you're missing out something. John sure knows how to prepare a lamb.”

Lamb to the slaughter. How appropriate. He looked at Williams, shoving the food into the mouth in the middle of his bloated face sitting on top of an enormous body. He found the sight to be only slightly less disgusting than what was going to take place in a short time on the plain.

The battle had been short. Peasants and a few citizens from the city, led by arrogant chiefs of clans who saught to rule these lands for themselves, not for the crown. Their army, a heap of rabble at best, had stood no chance. Many of the townsfolk and peasants had surrendered when the first bloood had been shed. Their leaders had tried to escape, but they had all been rounded up by the cavalry.

Their foot soldiers had been told that they would be let free again after they had witnessed the punishment of their clan leaders. The punishment was due soon.

“How many?”

“Thirty, Sire.”

“Has anyone accepted the offer?”

“None of them.”

“Too bad.”

He looked up into the sky. How peaceful it looked this late afternoon. He realized that he spent far too little time admiring the heavens above, so pure and clear, a true masterpiece of the Lord's creation. He wished he was there now and not on this cursed hill.

What right did they have to be here? This was not their land by right of heritage or other bonds. These people had never meant any harm to him or his country. Yet they had taken their lands. Why?

“Because of their ports, their fertile lands, their mines of ore.”

“Sire?”

“I am sorry, I was only thinking aloud.”

Yes, they had conquered these lands because they wanted an access to the sea, they wanted to exploit and use the land as if it had been theirs since the dawn of time. The other people living here would become loyal subjects of the crown soon enough. Would they care who ruled them?

He looked down at the maybe one or two thousand men, guarded by his soldiers. Did they care who ruled them as long as they could go about their businesses as they desired? Were they just brought up in rebellion by the clan leaders so that those chiefs could rule them without being responsible to someone else? Or did they genuinely believe in their freedom?

Freedom... what was freedom, after all? He looked as the thirty clan chiefs were brought onto the scaffold that looked awfully like a stage. Were those free men before the armies had come from foreign lands? Or were they captives of their responsibilities towards their people? Would they be free when this earthly existence ended for them?

He wondered if he himself was free. Who was he responsible towards? Himself? His conscience? God? Who?

“Sire?”

He realized that Williams had called his name more than once. “I am sorry, there are a lot of things I am thinking about. What is it?”

“Sire, the executioners await your order.”

“Ah, yes.” He raised the arm.

The executioner in charge nodded and placed the first chief on the block. He swung the mighty axe and brought it down on the neck of the chief. The head dropped into a prepared basket. Two other executioners brought the body away, while a forth took the head and placed it on top of one of the thirty spikes that had been prepared. There was an outcry among the prisoners, but they quickly became calm.

A raise of an arm, and thirty lives end. Just like that. But did he have a choice? What other possibilities would there have been? Should he have slaughtered all of the men who had fought? That would have caused an outcry in the whole region. The people would have to understand that not much would change for them, and certainly nothing for the worse. Once their leaders were removed they would have no one to organiize them. They would remember what happened to the leaders of insurrection.

“Yes, it's the best way.”

“It certainly is, Sire.”

“Hm?”

“I... I thought you had said something, Sire.”

He just nodded, and looked at the procedings on the plain. The people were taking it rather calm and solemn now. He was silently hoping that this was a sign of their acceptance. He counted. Only twelve left. The sun was setting, painting the whole landscape in a deep orange, like fire.

“Like in hell.”

“Oh, Sire, I don't think hell would be so merciful.”

“We are indeed merciful”, he said bitterly.

Could they be blamed? They had not been asked if they wanted to be conquered. They had hoped to free themselves again. A desperate attempt. What were they hoping for? A miracle? More than good luck had been needed to beat ten thousand armored soldiers with a worn, weary band of a mere five thousand. Wouldn't God have acted if he had favored the rebels? Didn't that mean that he was right?

The last chief had been brought to the block, his head joining the others on the spikes. The executioner who had led the action signalled to the top of the hill.

“They're done, Sire.”

“Yes, I noticed. Read the proclamation.”

Williams sent a signal down, and a herald stood before the prisoners.

The text had been revised by him time and again until he had come to the conclusion that it should be a simple text for simple people. He knew it by heart and silently spoke it in his head with the herald.

“Rebels! You have fought valiantly and we recognize this.”

A lie.

“We know that you have been seduced by the chiefs of the clans who sought glory for themselves, not freedom for you.”

True?

“All of you will receive a pardon for taking part in this rebellion if you swear allegiance to your king. Those of you who refuse will share the fate of your chiefs. Those denying such allegiance, step forward now to receive your punishment.”

If they remained put, they would be spared. It would makes it easier to accept defeat, if they just had to stay where they were, not doing anything. A dirty little trick.

He looked down the hill at the prisoners. A few men stepped forward, preferring death to living under a new ruler. Then a few more joined, and more, until in the end all of the over a thousand men had stepped forth.

“Sire, I... I cannot understand....”, Williams stammered between bites.

The executioners looked up the hill for advice. They were not prepared for the killing of so many.

“Realease them.”

“Sire?”

“And prepare the army. We will leave with first light tomorrow. We will never be able to rule them.”

Williams looked surprised, almost panic stricken. But eventually he sulked, agreeing. “Yes, Sire.”

Casting Williams a last glance, he went into his tent. He had a lot to think about.

 

[Secret Master]

Author #3

Haas stroke hearty the twisted thicket of leaves and supple branches creating a narrow tunnel, through which the others sneaked behind him, carrying with great difficulty their weapons and loads. The boots of the Austrian were getting stuck in the midst of the brown snakes of the roots, terrible cramps were desperate to take his very breath and the gigantic plants bowed towards him their meat-like petals, just like hungry mouths. His hatchet rose up and down with the precision of a pendulum but nothing could be heard except the furious gasps of the one that was chopping. Haas felt his strength leaving him, but what drove him mad most of all was the sight of the sharp iron biting deep from the green hydra, like in a boiling swamp. He stroke for a while longer, but then, overcome by the humiliating feeling of the uselessness of his action, stepped aside, leaning on a trunk of a near-by tree, so as Berthold could take his place. The column began moving forward with greater speed for the dark arms of the former sailor butchered with no effort the webbing of the plants, until it got stuck in front of a compact twining of branches, which loomed over a collapsed tree, like an unbreakable wall. They had to get around it, diving to the knee into a puddle whose unbearable stench chocked the skies.

The row of soldiers, marching with difficulty through the Vlasia Forests, resembled a giant caterpillar with an iron back of metallic shields and stung by the tips of the lances. It followed the Colentina River, but in the vicinity of the water calmly whispering brought no ease to the infernal heat, doing nothing but to attract legions of insects, leeches and worms. The air itself was filled with pestilence and rotting dampness, depicting a grim lake, whose waves washed the bodies reaching through the skin like a disease of nothingness, which floated as a greenish mist above the marsh.

This realm at the border of Christian world was not the pleasant picture it was supposed to be. For the soldiers, the road to Walachia lost the aura of adventure and greatness that the victorious war against the ottomans had won before the whole world. Haas felt like laughing when thinking when he thought about the anxious crowd in Vienna that waited with complete trust the return of the victorious army carrying on its shoulders the trophies of the glorious clashes. But his joy was bitter and his laugh was more of a grin. He saw that instead of a splendid campaign, he had to face woods filled with deadly traps, the irritating and painful assaults of insects, the treacherous attacks of snakes and, most of all, the terror of the nights overflowed with stirred howls of beasts…
Soon, the Wlachs started harassing them: sneaking as the sun went down defeated, hiding in the shadow of the dark woods, constantly showering them with arrows and spears, after which, retreating as swiftly as they had appeared, without engaging in open battle. The rebels, fast and agile just as devils could be, had their faces painted with terrible war-like colors of black and green, and were nothing like the Wlachs which stood by the Austrians at the siege of Nis.

Even though its lines were getting thinner, the column kept marching forward, following the lazy waters of the river. A sixth sense told the soldiers the imminence of their long-sought target and the attacks of the weird warriors were becoming more violent and frequent, as if they were defending a sacred land that no stranger was allowed to defile. Their dare was so big that they plunged into battle in plain daylight, facing the lances, the harquebus and the swords wielded by the Austrians and against which they were no match.

One morning, while stopping to drink water from the river, Haas was bitten by an adder. It took him but a minute to kill the reptile, bar he had to remain the last in the line, hardly dragging his wounded leg. Suddenly the dreadful cries of the enemies transported from nowhere made his blood freeze over. Before the others could come to his aid, a terrible blow to the back of his head made him crumble to his knees, dropping his sword. His helmet was also, blown away, and before he could lift his shield, a club bashed his head, drowning him into an ocean of darkness…

The silence and the peace he felt could come from nowhere else but beyond death; that’s why he wasn’t too surprised, when, opening his eyes, saw the angel waiting by his head, with the lance in the right hand and the face hidden by a golden mist. But this cherub had no wings and her maiden-like body made Haas feel earthly, sinful desires. When the specter moved for the first time, the young man shivered, for the aura of light was nothing but the silky hair, in which the rays of the sun, sneaking through a narrow opening, lighted endless sparks. Doubt crept into his soul: if this was heaven indeed, why, I tell you why, the wound of his leg still burned just as merciless as it did before? Without having the time to truly understand what was going on, the lance leaned towards him, making him rise quicker than he thought himself ever being able to.

Outside, blinded by the brilliance of the skies, in contrast with the darkness of the cave where he laid, Haas leaned on a rock, greedily inhaling the strong scent of the mountains. He was on a platform, chiseled in stone, from which down it went a ladder carved in stone all the way down to a round valley overlooking a stronghold to the likes of which the captain was never privileged to observe. All around, the walls of a dead volcano embraced the horizon but Haas cared for nothing except the castle whose walls were built higher than the towers of the palaces in Cologne. The gigantic marbles that only the strength of titans could move interlocked perfectly that not even a blade could get through. Beyond the fortified walls, the monumental constructs grew one from another, just like a vertical labyrinth, with numerous entrances, terraces, bridges, lines of columns and statues. The wild greatness of the fortified towers and the heavy copper gates, demonic images that oozed from the walls, made Haas tremble with fear for such a citadel was inexpugnable.

Only later, he realized that the city that could embrace within its walls the entire Vienna, had no men, but only young women, armed with lances, bows and arrows. The ones that he passed by seemed uninterested, not even curious, but Haas remembered unconsciously the torments he laid upon the captured Wlachs during the expedition. Their women, executed at the same time, gentle and submissive, had in their eyes an endless sorrow; the ones in the castle, proud as only queens can be, had the skin whiter than his, the hair having the color of freshly-minted ducats and the eyes like the blades of Toledo swords, without wearing any kind of garment or jewel that could hide their beauty…

A punch in the ribs awoke him from his dreams: he clenched his fists, throwing poisoned looks at his sentinel. She did not seem to care about the Austrian’s rage and, before the icy green of her eyes, Haas lowered his eyes, cursing the faith, which made him into a prisoner. For a moment he imagined the she-devil fallen before him, while he rose slowly his saber, laughing at the horror that made her shiver. Around them, the castle would burn and its defenders dragged by their locks towards the loot-filled wagons, throughout the rooting of the victory-drunken soldiers…

Trapped in his own thoughts, he didn’t even realize when he arrived before a small temple, whose gate laid before him a threatening square of gloom. Behind him was no one. As if, along the incisive eyes all his strength to fight back had disappeared, the soldier entered, slowly moving, in the chamber he was so afraid of. At first, he was lead by the rays sneaking through the copper folds, but as he advanced in the cramped passage, the light diminished, growing into a pale wave and, soon enough, darkness imposed itself between the cold walls.

All of a sudden, he caught sight in the distance of a faint sparkling and moved towards that place. Haas stopped in a vast room, in which the rustle of his feet lost itself in the cathedral-like silence, and whose only star remained the flame of a torch, high on a terrace. At once, two blocks of stones moved aside with a terrible shriek and through the opening, in the ceiling, the sun penetrated and the shadows backed away from the pillar of light that was descending. What appeared before his eyes was a cavern of infinite beauty. The walls were made out of thick, golden plaques and everywhere laid scattered pieces of gold, just like lost islands in a sea of gems, for at his feet piled rubies, diamonds and sapphires, big as a dove’s egg, and all that unimaginable wealth made Haas fear that he could go mad from the happiness that this sight inspired. He had totally forgotten of the revolt of the Vlachs, of the citadel of the armed women and even of the beauty that led him to this point; all he could see were jewels, in which his arms seemed lost to the shoulder, golden orbs bouncing on waves of rubies, emeralds and pearls. With his eyes poking out of the orbits, and his claw-like fingers, he crawled to the glimmering heap, babbling words without end…

Three months later, when the troops of Prince Leopold arrived at the gates of the stronghold, after a successful battle against the rebels, all that they could find was an endless mass of ruins, a desolated landscape, as if abandoned for centuries. In the small temple, at the feet of the volcano, embracing a mound of coal, an old man laid laughing. Nobody could realize that, under the rags, was beating a noble heart, of pure Austrian blood, and the treasure that he so desperately held close was all that was left of King Decebalus’ riches, touched by an unworthy hand.

 

[Secret Master]

We have one more submission waiting in the wings (due to technical difficulties) and if it arrives before the afternoon, I will get it up.

Other than that, feel free to begin guessing the author.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

SM,

Before we begin to guess, can we have a list of the available authors -- not just the 5 who submit, but a list of who is in this. If one of your authors hasn't written on the of the AAR's we are currently reading it will be really hard to pluck them out!

 

[Secret Master]

In answer to your question, Stroph, it would be very hard to list all the authors involved in this effort. Since there is no commitment to writing beyond a particular installment, listing all the potential authors involved would be like listing the phone book.

In order to narrow down the selection criteria, I shall say this. I have more than one author of the week on this week's list of contributors, and I have one author who is almost completely unknown. I have at least one contirbutor to the Free Company on board this week, and more than one author who has a custom title.

Does that narrow it down for ya, Stroph?

And remember, even if you can't guess the author, it is still ok to leave pertinent remarks about the writing. What you like and what you don't like.

 

[unmerged(6777)]

Author #1

I think that I will refrain from giving too in depth a critique of the author’s work, but will make some general observations instead.

I think that the author has a very good picture in his mind of the story he wishes to tell. The descriptions of the scenes are quite well handled and the dialogue seems to be relatively convincing overall. Perhaps the length restriction of the assignment presented some difficulties in terms of carrying the overall story within the space provided, but I ended up enjoying the piece but coming away from it feeling as though it was a bit disjointed in places.

This could, though, be an issue relating to language – as I am virtually positive that the author’s native tongue is not English. There are some spots where awkward sentence structure or word choice tells me that he in not particularly comfortable with some of the finer or more difficult aspects of the language. With that in mind, I commend the author for “daring” to take the challenge, and for having managed to do a really excellent job in a foreign tongue!

I guess one thing that would make this “easier” for me to read would be a correction to the punctuation (it is punctuated more in the form of spoken English than written) and I would strongly recommend adopting the more modern style of presenting dialogue in separate paragraphs. To give an example, here’s how I would structure the first “major” dialogue block…

"Announcing master Yoshimori," the servant mumbled.

"Hello, your Majesty. He coughed politely before continuing. “I have a few things to discuss with you."

"Yes. Certainly. Have some saki"

"No, thank you. I never drink on business, as you know."

Akihito ignored his friend’s assurances and gestured to the servant. "You there, get us some saki."

"Why… oh, never mind. Now, I ask you, why are you continuing this rebellion when you know you will lose? The Chinese have five hundred thousand men on this island alone."

"Why do you insist on not having any honor?"

"Oh, is it honor?,” he countered, hotly. “I think I am a perfectly good judge of honor and I think you are somewhat lacking in that regard. Murder of defenseless people does not give a man honor."

"Those deaths were not conducted under my orders. I told them to make the Chinese leave, not die."

There are a variety of ways to assemble or modify this, but the general idea is to start a new “paragraph” when there is a change of speaker. This makes it far easier for a reader to follow. I would also recommend the use of a spell-checker (if that’s available to the author) or slightly more careful proofreading.

All in all, though, I think that this has been very nicely imagined and quite well conveyed by the author – and I’ll re-state my praise for a non-English author who has the willingness to participate in this experiment.

My guess…J. Pass.

* * * * *

Author #2

The second piece is written by someone who is intimately familiar with the language and, in fact, revels in it’s nuances. The careful and subtle insertion of descriptions without breaking the flow of the story …the way the story weaves in and out of various ideas and thoughts…the expert handling of dialogue…all of these point to quite a skilled wordsmith.

The presentation does an excellent job in both establishing the situation and painting the scene, all without seeming cumbersome or unwieldy. It forces the reader to pay attention to the “hints” that are dropped here and there – the clues that must be assembled to fully appreciate the overall picture. This is a tricky thing to do well, and my in opinion the author has succeeded admirably.

My initial impression, when reading it, was that this might be LD’s work – but the more I examine it the less sure I am that I’m right. LD’s style, recently, has not been particularly angled towards narrative introspection – he usually loads his dialogue with clues as to the inner thoughts instead – and I think that there are a couple slightly awkward sections that I would normally expect him to spot immediately and resolve. On the other hand, the short time involved in writing this might have “cramped” his usual modus operandi and, whoever the author is, I am sure he will read back over his presentation in a day or two’s time and find himself wishing he’d rephrased those bits. There are also a few punctuation and grammatical errors that need a brush up, but nothing major by any stretch of the imagination.

Sadly, I have not been able to read enough AARs consistently and frequently enough to know who’s style this might be more in keeping with, so I’m simply going to cheat, look at the list of people who initially seemed interested in the project, and take a shot in the dark with a guess that it’s either Director’s or Joe’s. (I know, I know…I’m only supposed to pick one…so if you force me to it I’ll guess that it’s Director).

* * * * *

Author #3

The third piece is an interesting departure after reading the second, since it is entirely in narrative form. This is often a very difficult style to use to maintain a reader’s interest since it usually lacks variety and can end up seeming “blocky”. In this instance, however, I think the author did an excellent job in conveying his ideas and keeping me captivated by employing frequent shifts of scene or attention.

I would hazard a guess that this author, too, is not an English-speaking native. There are fewer clues that lead me to this supposition than was the case with the first author’s work, but I did find myself having to read some of the sentences or paragraphs a couple times before I could assemble them and fully understanding the author’s intent. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what makes me think this…probably the placement of verbs and adjectives and their overall assembly. Punctuation errors - a sign that the author is thinking in “spoken” terms and then writing it down - is also a likely indicator.

I should stress that I really enjoy the idea that underlies the story, and that the pay-off at the end (as we discover that our POV has been toyed with) is fantastic. This is a very creative piece of writing that I would love to see further developed or fleshed out, and I think that with a bit of hard work, a little more attention to detail (spelling, sentence structure, etc.) this could very easily be a fantastic short piece of fiction.

As to my guess…well I’m going to take a stab that our author is a person I’ve beenhaving semi-frequent e-mail correspondence with for the last little while. Am I right Sasha?

* * * * *

I hope that’s roughly what people are looking for in terms of feedback on their work, and I must say that it’s already proved to be an interesting exercise as far as reading these pieces has gone. Very good work, all three of you! (whoever you are)

 

[J. Passepartout]

Author 1

I like his story, but it is indeed a bit stilted (in my opinion), and has a few spelling errors. Probably either typo, or as MrT said a person who's native language is not English.

I like the dialogue. It was pretty good except hard to read due to the spacing he used.

I won't venture geuss on this one

Erm... Yeah. I'm not good at doing this critiqueing unless the writing is horrible.

Author 2

Dialogue is better than author 1's, I think. Interesting story, very good. The only thing I didn't like was that it wasn't clear what countries were involved.

I think it might have been Storey.

Author 3

Really good. I liked the twist at the end. I have nothing to add to what MrT said, and I also think it was Gaijin

 

[J. Passepartout]

Since SM has left on a trip and won't be able to answer my question, yes, I was author 1. Darn you, MrT.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

I really enjoyed this exercise and applaud all three for a story. I challenge any of you three to write a Japanese AAR in this style....

On to my guesses:

Author #1

I agree with the other two that the writer is not native English (won't we feel silly when this writer turns out to be very English!). I like the style and the few typos are no more then I often have in my tales and English is my native language (American English, at least). My gut instinct told me this was either JP or Apebe and I will go with J Pass.

Author #2

This version flowed really well. The style is Joe's. My money is this must be Storey or a Storey imitator! Williams was an interesting character -- be nice to see him expanded into a full blown AAR.

Author #3

This style seems to reflect somebody who guest-authored in my Pskovian AAR as a certain man in Moscow who eventually went with the central government. Am I right?....

Author #4 and Author #5

These two are tough. The two styles are exactly the same and I will be hard put to identify them based on what I have read so far.

 

[Storey]

Author #1

MrT’s example about adjusting the "punctuation" is a very good point. It’s amazingly easier to read with the standard style of writing. The conversation flows better with the simple line separation that MrT illustrated.
The dialogue might appear stilted but it does somewhat work with the culture that the story takes place in. Weren’t the Japanese and Chinese upper class more formal or ritual bound in western writers eyes? One way to show this is with an affected dialogue.

I was thinking that Meiji-Tenno might be the author but then I realized that he wouldn’t have Japan losing to the Chinese.

Author #2

Funny thing is my rough sketch was also about executing rebels. But I was passed over (sob) so I didn’t write it but I'm flattered that so many think I can write this well. Very natural dialogue and a believable story. That’s a successful one-two punch. And the winner by a knock out is? Hell if I know but if I'm guessing I'll say Director.

Author #3

Probably my favorite of the three. It takes an old story of a lost mysterious city full of treasure and puts his own personal spin to it. The descriptive aspect of the story it first rate and sucked me in. I’m leaning toward Sytass for this one. I'm editing this because I wanted to change my mind and pick HolisticGod as the writer of this first rate story.

Joe

 

[Director]

With Secret Master out of town, I have not been responding to guesses. But with two people picking me as author #2, I suppose I'd better admit the truth.

It's not me. Honest. I'm flattered as all get-out because I really liked the flow of dialog in submission #2.

I've checked all my files just in case I wrote something in my sleep. Nope. Not me.



On to the critique (but no guesses as to origin):

My concerns with Submission #1 stem from the format, not the content. Large blocks of white letters on blue background make my eye skitter away... The story is well-told, the plot firmly under control and moving capably to its resolution.

The mix of short and long sentences is interesting. Most 'best-seller' authors tend to concentrate on short, direct sentences. More 'literary' types use longer structures and experiment more. (My own sentences and post size are properly discussed only by astronomers, and then in soft, awe-stricken tones. Not good.)

In this case the author used longer sentences to set up scenes and short (sometimes mono-syllabic) sentences for 'punch'. Nice trick, I like the effect (scribbles furiously in notebook).

Submission #2

Clear, clear, clear. Details are noted when they can be used to advance the plot, the dialog is descriptive and to the point, simile and metaphor abound and there is a clear moral struggle. I admire clear writing; it is very difficult to do.

Two minor quibbles - from dialog alone it is impossible for me to tell the two speakers apart. I wish they each had their own 'voice'. And I don't believe in the decision the protagonist made. I think the author believed - strongly - that a civilized man could make no other choice. But, sadly, the protagonist voices no arguments to explain his choice to me.

Submission #3

Thick, dense and rich. Not an author who comes to English as a native (from word choice and sentence structure) and therefore an effort worthy of close attention.

I had to reread the opening paragraph several times - it was almost like reading William S Burroughs in its reduction to short concentrated emotion-laden words. Lots of interesting adjectives.

Good story planning in that we don't realize we are in a 'fairy tale' until most of the way through the installment. The reader is carefully misdirected until his confusion can be resolved with the climax of the plot.

Were I an editor I'd suggest the author put this piece aside for a day or so, then re-read and polish it. As a reader, I'd like just a bit more information on what nations and peoples are involved.

Terrific atmosphere, redolent of Poe and Lovecraft.

 

[stnylan]

Like others I'm not guessing who since I have no idea. I thoroughly enjoyed all these submissions, and if I nit-pick do not think I didn't take pleasure in reading (whoever you are).

Author #1

Although I found the dialogue hard to read this was because of it all being bunched together. I found the style of dialogue very clear, and rather liked its largely uninterrupted feel. Nothing got in the way and there was never any doubt as to who was saying what.

I also liked the surprises at the end of the story. A plot point - I also like stories that seem to be leading one place and then go somewhere else. Here of course we have two of these changes in quick succession. First the author has set up the court scene where we see Y witnessing the trial. Our first surprise is that he gets accused himself. Our second is that he commits suicide. OK - I know that some people can see these things coming but I am quite a relaxed reader in this respect .

Author #2

This flowed very nicely and neatly, and there was a clear and well explained progression of the protagonist's thoughts. In many respects a philosophical work, perhaps even a little Socratic in form . The repeated questions, ending up at the conclusion was very good and the last line was a treat.

Personally I think the work might have gained from a little added description, maybe focusing in on one particular rebel to give a greater sense of interaction between the rebels and the protagonists. As it stands the rebels are rather faceless.

Also, the only real character in this peice is the protagonist. What we learn about his character we are not told, but rather it is implied through his thoughts etc. I think that through this method the character might have been developed a little more fully, but that's just me .

Author #3

I found that I had to reread this one very carefully. It packed a lot of info into a fairly dense format that built a rich experience. I think the lack of any dialogue, just a few thoughts, hieghtened the idea of being somehow caught.

My main point is with the end paragraph that is essentially divorced from the rest of the story. In that paragraph a certain amount of what has gone before is explained. It makes the previous story make sense to some degree, but it also looses something of its air of mystery. It raises the interesting question that when you are creating a fairly mysterious environment how much to explain and how much to leave upto the readers' imaginations. In this case I think some explanation was necessary to make it all work, without the final paragraph the submission would be much poorer.

 

[unmerged(6777)]

Originally posted by J. Passeportout
I'm from New York and speak English as a native language. How come everyone outside my family thinks I'm not?!?!

It comes down to style, sentence structure, punctuation (as per verbal rather than written), language use and construction, gramatical faults...just something that for some reason I associate with writers who tend to be thinking in their native language and then translating into English afterwards but sticking to the word order and phrasing they would use in translation.

I don't want this to come across in the wrong way, but I must confess that I'd always been under the impression that your native language might be French or Spanish since your writing just never struck me as someone who's studied and spoken English from birth. My fault, I guess, for drawing hasty assumptions.

Reading that you're a native NYer, I must confess that I was fairly surprised...but then I cheated and went and looked at your user profile to discover that you're "only" 15+ years old. Damn good writing! I wish I'd been that good when I was your age. Now I'm not sure whether to offer you some "harsher" criticism to show you where your written language use needs brushing up, or whether to give you an extra few pats on the back for a job well done.

Just a few suggestions, then...

You should definitely consider my suggestions re dialogue presentation. Maybe it's becoming a bit "old" now but it's far easier to follow the interaction between characters when you split it up as I did in the example I posted earlier (not to mention that it's a little easier on older eyes like LD's....). Don't worry if that ends up making your posts twice as long in physical length as they would have been if you'd kept them together the way you did in your post...people will read longer pieces if it's pleasing to the eye and easier to follow.

You may also want to consider doing some more careful spell checking with your writing. If you have Word (or WordPerfect) then run the post through a spell checker and maybe turn on the "grammar" function which would help you with your punctuation. I'd also spend a bit of time looking at sentence structure to make sure everything fits okay.

I had originally thought about making a comment in my "critique" re some historical accuracy issues and linguistic issues that I found troublesome. For instance, at one point you have a "pencil and paper" being used...neither of which are accurate for the time priod in that nation. As Storey said, the forms of address aren't really in keeping with their relative relationships or social statures either...they're more in line with 20th century interactions between equals than an 18th century converation between the Emperor and a "serf". Both of these things take considerable research, though, so I decided to let them "slide" for the purposes of this "assignment"...

I guess this brings up the question of how "exacting" people would like the critiques to be in this thread. I don't want to discourage any budding young writers or tear the work of someone who is not writing in their native language to shreads (I'm still betting #3 is Sytass) but if the author would like a more detailed criticism of their work then I also don't want to short change them eitherl.

You can tell me to shut up now...


* * * * *

Well, well...so #2 isn't either Director or Storey. Interesting. FYI Joe, I decided that is was a little less likely to be you since I don't recall you using introspective narrative with your dialogue but I think you're certainly capable of this level of work.

I'm fairly sure it isn't HG either - unless he decided not to use his usual style and opted for a rather dramatic departure - wrong language usage compared to his extensive vocabulary I'm thinking. I'm still of the opinion that it isn't LD's work...for much the same reasons that I didn't think it was Joe's in the end. Hmmmmmm...I wonder who it could be? Maybe SM himself...? Nah...seems like too big of a departure from his usual style. Craig or Rocky maybe? I fear, now, that it's someone who's AAR I've completely missed and I"m going to be mightily embarrassed when I find out.

EDIT:

No guesses from either Director or stnylan. Tsk tsk gentlemen. That's cheating.

 

[Craig Ashley]

Author 1: I knew it was J.Pass just by the way the dialogue was structured (and agree with everyone else about the formating of it). Yet even without that clue, I think I would have guessed JP. As others have said, the writing at times seems to be written by someone who's native tongue is not English. The reason I say this is sometimes the choice of words almost contradict one another and you have to read a paragraph a few times to decipher its true meaning.

An example: . . . it was his duty to try and sway the rebels from continuing and attempting a successful expulsion of the Chinese. emphasis is mine.

If they are attempting something, than no one knows if it will be successful. The word attempt implies that an effort is being made, but the ultimate outcome is still in doubt. The word successful obviously states that the outcome was favorable.

I read this sentence a few times and had to look at the context surrounding it before I knew what the situation was. In game terms I didn't know if the rebels were still fighting for the city or if they took the city, or if they were marching on another city. The context and surrounding text was able to clue me in, but it did take a little effort.

I might have wrote the sentence like this: . . . it was his duty to try and sway the rebels from continuing their attempts at expelling the Chinese.

Largely the same words, but much clearer for the reader.

Also some of the story did not fit the feel of an East Asian tale. I know I myself would be very hesitant to try and Far East AAR since the culture and much of the history is so foreign to me, so kudos for taking a risk there.

I'm not trying to nit pick you, JP. I am attempting to offer some constructive criticism. Clarity is very important to the reader (or at least it is to me). I don't mind not knowing what is going on in a book (the author keeps certain parts of the plot a mystery), but I hate not knowing what the writer is trying to say. The language should clearly communicate what the writer is trying to convey. The exception would be if it is being written from an unreliable point of view, like a lunatic, then murky, contradictory language fits. Keep in mind, I am by no means the most accomplished writer in this forum, and eagerly await my chance to go under the microscope.

I applaud you and everyone else for going through with this exercise. It takes guts.

Author 2: Terrific writing. The author used a favorite technique of mine by splicing in internal thoughts with dialogue. I have always enjoyed pointing out the difference between what is said and what is thought. Not only did the author use this technique but he used it well. I think this was my favorite passage:

“Rebels! You have fought valiantly and we recognize this.”

A lie.

“We know that you have been seduced by the chiefs of the clans who sought glory for themselves, not freedom for you.”

True?

“All of you will receive a pardon for taking part in this rebellion if you swear allegiance to your king. Those of you who refuse will share the fate of your chiefs. Those denying such allegiance, step forward now to receive your punishment.”

If they remained put, they would be spared. It would makes it easier to accept defeat, if they just had to stay where they were, not doing anything. A dirty little trick.

That readily conveyed the combination cynicism and the morality the protagonist was feeling. You could feel the character at war with himself.

One of the other commentators, Director I believe, said he didn't like that the dialogue had no distinct voice for either character. I feel that worked well with this small passage. On the outside the protagonist is flat, just going through the motions, but on the inside there is a real and deep conflict. I like the contrast. It really worked for me.

However, I agree with Director when he says the protagonist's final decision didn't ring true. I feel his cynicism and the pressure he would have felt not to loose face would have forced him to do the unthinkable. Watching him deal with the moral consequences of it would have made for some great reading.

I'm flattered that MrT thought I am capable of such a fine piece. I don't think it is LD for same reasons many have stated. It also doesn't fit HG's lyrical style. My guess Rocky or SM. If pressed I say SM.

Author 3: Very compact and dense piece of writing. The strictly narrative style made it hard to get into at first. I felt like the protagonist at first, having to hack my way through thick layers of description. That same description allows the reader get immersed into the writer's world, once you adapt to it.

I especially liked the dark imagery. We see roots compared to snakes. Plants have ”meaty leaves like hungry mouths.” This line was also very good. “Haas felt his strength leaving him, but what drove him mad most of all was the sight of the sharp iron biting deep from the green hydra, like in a boiling swamp.” The dark and mythical images really work here. It helps set a desperate, despairing tone. The mythological elements like the hydra help make the pay off more believable, making the world described to the reader almost dream like.

I did find the sudden changes in location or focus of attention to be a little jarring. I found myself going back and trying to figure out exactly what was going on and trying to figure out exactly where we were (this was before I reached the pivotal final paragraph). The final paragraph though, put my concerns to rest. The jarring switches work in light of the final revelation.

Ironically this is sort of thing is what I was referring to when I told JP when it was ok for the author to make his writing a little murky. The POV is that of a madman and it makes the previous sections come to light. When I read it a second time, I found a new appreciation for it all. Definitely a rewarding read.

My guess here. HG.


Chris, good question regarding the depth of criticism. I know the above is about as in depth a commentary as I am capable of producing. Personally, I would want everyone to feel free to "fire away" on me, so I didn't hold anything back. Though I did make an effort to balance the commentary with both criticism and encouragement.

Abother thing I did was use quotes to emphasize my points. As a writer, I find it helpful when someone quotes my work and point to specifics.

 

[J. Passepartout]

Originally posted by MrT
It comes down to style, sentence structure, punctuation (as per verbal rather than written), language use and construction, gramatical faults...just something that for some reason I associate with writers who tend to be thinking in their native language and then translating into English afterwards but sticking to the word order and phrasing they would use in translation.

I don't want this to come across in the wrong way, but I must confess that I'd always been under the impression that your native language might be French or Spanish since your writing just never struck me as someone who's studied and spoken English from birth. My fault, I guess, for drawing hasty assumptions.

Reading that you're a native NYer, I must confess that I was fairly surprised...but then I cheated and went and looked at your user profile to discover that you're "only" 15+ years old. Damn good writing! I wish I'd been that good when I was your age. Now I'm not sure whether to offer you some "harsher" criticism to show you where your written language use needs brushing up, or whether to give you an extra few pats on the back for a job well done.

Ah, now people have thought I was French or Spanish. Don't worry, I seem to have picked up an odd pattern of speech that makes people think I'm either German or Russian

You should definitely consider my suggestions re dialogue presentation. Maybe it's becoming a bit "old" now but it's far easier to follow the interaction between characters when you split it up as I did in the example I posted earlier (not to mention that it's a little easier on older eyes like LD's....). Don't worry if that ends up making your posts twice as long in physical length as they would have been if you'd kept them together the way you did in your post...people will read longer pieces if it's pleasing to the eye and easier to follow.

I should, but old habits are hard to break.

You may also want to consider doing some more careful spell checking with your writing. If you have Word (or WordPerfect) then run the post through a spell checker and maybe turn on the "grammar" function which would help you with your punctuation. I'd also spend a bit of time looking at sentence structure to make sure everything fits okay.

I'm normally able to spell well, so that makes me ignore the spell checker. I pay no attention to it.

I had originally thought about making a comment in my "critique" re some historical accuracy issues and linguistic issues that I found troublesome. For instance, at one point you have a "pencil and paper" being used...neither of which are accurate for the time priod in that nation. As Storey said, the forms of address aren't really in keeping with their relative relationships or social statures either...they're more in line with 20th century interactions between equals than an 18th century converation between the Emperor and a "serf". Both of these things take considerable research, though, so I decided to let them "slide" for the purposes of this "assignment"...

The pencil and paper was a stupid mistake.

Yoshimori and the Emperor were good friends before the revolt. That accounts for that.

Keep on talking. I don't mind. I wish I could get it from your mouth, though. I'm generally not in Toronto long enough to visit people.

 

[Syt]

I haven't had much time to get a real close look at the installments so far, I hope to change this over the weekend and form a thorough opinion. I have skimmed the analysiseseses (sp? ) of the others, and Chris I must disappoint you, the third post is not by me. But thanks for thinking I'd have it in me.