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Which opening to go with?

Author: Usman Ijaz

I posted one of these openings before, and fixed it to the sugestions given. But one thing many of the readers felt was that it was too much TELLING and not enough SHOWING. So I wrote another opening, similar to the first but different also. If anyone can take the time to read the two, and give me their opinions as to which one is better and why, I'd appreciate it greatly.

BTW, this is YA, I suppose. The first opening is the one I posted before, the one with too much Telling. The second one is the new one.

Thank you.

------------------------------------------------------

Chapter One:

"The World Has Come Undone"





At the high shoreline, where water and land come together, there stood a boy of fifteen. Like a lone ranger the boy stood upon the wet rocks, staring out into the Atlantic, and contemplating where his life had come apart. He wore a light jacket over a gray t-shirt, and loose blue jeans. The wind blew back his jet-black hair from a clear brow and whipped his slack clothes against his body. A hazy gray sky stretched overhead and behind him to the horizon. The air smelled and tasted of salt, but it was just another matter that the boy could easily overlook .
He was of average height, but seemed small compared to the large body of water before him. His dark brown eyes stared out impassively, like twin marbles, as if not even seeing the ocean before him, or noticing the winds that buffeted him. For all the sight of him, he looked like the last person on Earth.
Pluck!
Another stone downed and sunk to the ocean floor, the ripples spread until they were swallowed by the foamy waves lapping up the coast. He attempted to make the rocks skip but not many did. Either way, he did not much care. He had bigger worries than whether or not he could make stones hop along the water.
His name was Matthias Henderson, and for him the world seemed to have come undone. The sharp gusts of wind rolling off from the ocean tore at him, and he could feel them biting through his clothes, but still he remained as he was. One hand held a cluster of the small, smooth pebbles that covered the entire beach. He threw another one for the sea to catch and watched as it sank with a small splash.
To the left of him stretched the rest of the desolate beach, smooth stones covering as much of it as possible. They were wet, those stones, hence he had to be careful of his footing. To his right was a small parking lot, a rusty fence surrounded the lot and cut it off from him. He could see the deteriorating yellow paint that had once decorated the fence. The lot was empty now but for one or two rusty, dinged up cars.
Matthias stared ahead and wondered where it had all gone wrong. Things were all in disarray now. His mother did not believe him, school was not a haven, if it ever had been, and he had lost his one good friend. At that moment he felt more alone than ever before. He felt the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue and realized it was swollen.
He cast a glance up towards the sky at the cry of a few circling seagulls, then returned his gaze to the murky ocean before him. It was a dull day, and rain and strong winds were all but promised. He thought it must be around mid-afternoon; soon he would head home .
Home. The thought made him long for the past and wonder why they had ever moved to this god-forsaken city. It had been so much better back in Vancouver. Back then they had been a family. He had been here, in Halifax, for a year and half now. He had known from the first that he would hate it. It represented the significant point in his life when everything had come uprooted. The only good part of the city was right where he was standing, and he only thought that because this was where he could be by himself. Surely it was not the rugged beauty of the beach, which he was very thankful for, however; but rather the fact that you could not expect a family to bring their entire home to such a place.
Throwing aside the rest of the small rocks and wiping his hands on his jeans, Matthias turned and walked back up the rocky slope, heading home.

--------------------------------------------- Second Version -----------------------

Chapter One:

"The World Has Come Undone"


At the high shoreline, where water and land come together, there stood a boy of fifteen. Like a lone ranger the boy stood upon the wet rocks, staring out into the Atlantic, and contemplating where his life had come apart.
Pluck!
Matthias watched the rock sink into the ocean, and watched the ripples swallowed by the foamy waves lapping up the coast. He attempted to make the rocks skip but not many did. Either way, he did not much care. He had bigger worries than whether or not he could make stones hop along the water.
He breathed in the cold salt-air rolling off the Atlantic, and felt a peace come over him he only felt in this place. The wind was sharp, it swept his black hair back and whipped his slack clothes against his body. It sent chills through him, but he stood his ground, one hand holding a cluster of the small, smooth rocks that covered the beach.
He looked to his right, saw the wet beach stretching away for a mile or so, and looked the other way. To his left was a small parking lot, a rusty fence surrounded the lot and cut it off from him. He could see the deteriorating yellow paint that had once decorated the fence. The lot was empty now but for one or two rusty, dinged up cars.
Where did everything go wrong? he wondered. He touched the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue and realized it was still swollen. At the cry of a few circling seagulls he cast a glance up towards the hazy sky. It was a dull day, and rain and strong winds were all but promised. He thought it must be around mid-afternoon; soon he would head home .
Home. The thought made him long for the past and wonder why they had ever moved to this god-forsaken city. It had been so much better back in Vancouver. Back then they had been a family. They had been here, in Halifax, for a year and half now. He had known from the first that he would hate it. It represented the significant point in his life when everything had come uprooted. The world has come undone, he thought bitterly, and wanted to laugh.
The only good part of the city was right where he was standing, and he only thought that because this was where he could be by himself. Surely it was not the rugged beauty of the beach, which he was very thankful for, however; but rather the fact that you could not expect a family to bring their entire home to such a place.
Throwing aside the rest of the small rocks and wiping his hands on his jeans, Matthias turned and walked back up the rocky slope, heading home.


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Mya Bell

Usman, I don't have time to critique right now, I have to run, but I wanted to say, I like your style of writing, I'm not going to quibble about details at this point.

Your excerpt brings to mind the almost poetic prose of Michael Ondaatje. Your writing has a languid, breezy feeling to it that I find refreshing.

I'll try to look at this again before the end of the weekend, if I can. I'm sure you'll get some useful feedback from others before then, but I'll make an effort to come back to it, nevertheless.

--- Mya Bell


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Rhiannon

I agree with Mya. I'm by no means a professional, but I do find your style quite readable.

I have to say, though, I like the second better than the first. I prefer to have only a scant description of my character - age, hair color, maybe one or two more defining details - and then to let my imagination do the rest. I think the first opening gives me too much information about the character and doesn't allow my mind to paint enough of the picture; opening one is the "paint-by-numbers" opening. You've given us the outline, now all we have to do is fill in the colors. Opening two, however, leaves a little more to the imagination. It's like a blueprint - just enough information is given so that we can imagine what it ("he" in this instance) should look like.

Both openings leave me hungry. I want to know why they moved all the way across Canada, why he's got a fat lip, and why it seems like he's so reluctant to go home. Has he done something he may be punished for? Are his parents mad at him or each other? If I picked up a book like this in the bookstore and read either of these openings, I'd probably buy it.

Thanks for allowing us to read these two openings - they were a treat!

Rhi


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Usman Ijaz

Thanks a lot Mya and Rhiannon.


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Constantia Durham

I prefer the second version too, and I like it!


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: leslee

I can only suggest that you don't say "like a lone ranger." It congers the image of a guy on a horse wearing a mask, and there's no way around it.

Even without that reference, it has no meaning. Who knows what "like a lone ranger" means? Who knows what the heck a "ranger" is?

It is too cliche for your story. There has to be a more interesting and meaningful line to put there.


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Ian Barker

The second version is much, much better, though I still think it reads more like literary fiction. It seems somehow too formal to be YA.

As Leslee says, the 'lone ranger' bit doesn't sit right, and I don't like 'where water and land come together', isn't that a given when it's a shoreline? I think you could probably drop the first paragraph altogether and start with the 'Pluck!' That makes for a much more intriguing start and you could work the fact that he's 15 into a later paragraph.

Good luck with it,

IB


Re: Which opening to go with?

Author: Usman Ijaz

Thanks a lot for the feedback guys. I considered taking the first paragraph right out, but the reason I left it in was because I felt it introduced the rest, but now I see I can leave it out and work the stuff into it later.

Thanks!


Re: A question

Author: Usman Ijaz

might sound stupid, but what exactly is literary fiction?


Re: A question

Author: Ian Barker

It's actually quite hard to define, it's generally fiction that makes you think, that offers some insight into the human condition. Though you can agrue that all fiction should do that.

This article is quite interesting: http://books.guardian.co.uk/critics/reviews/0,5917,532924,00.html

IB



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