It rained on the day Mother would join the gods. Raian stood with his arms tight around himself, and looked like a boy shivering in the cold, when he only felt like burning.
Beside him, his older brother rubbed his nose, but Raian couldn’t tell if he was crying. Holding it in, maybe, just like their father. Raian sniffled, bit his lip, and tried to stand straighter, too.
The gods called down a sharp wind from the mountains, a wind that buffeted the pines and the fires and the corners of the stark white linen wrapped around Mother’s form. It stole the funeral rites from the mouth of the elder, as if to carry the words back for the gods alone to hear.
Father sighed, his breath shaking as he let it go. “It’s time,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Taro, hold Anani’s hand.” He squatted between them and lowered the toddler from his arm. Father gave Taro’s shoulder a squeeze and kissed Anani’s cheek. They looked just like him, brown hair and eyes dark as spring soil.
Raian tugged at his own hair, too dark for a proper Ashtian, but not the vivid black of his mother’s ancestry. Mother would say his eyes were like the clash of a storm cloud and a clear sky. Even his skin tone was somewhere in the middle. It was as if the gods leeched the colors from him, just enough to set him apart.
All thoughts and critique are appreciated! Hope you like it!
It rained on the day Mother would join the gods. Raian stood with his arms tight around himself, looking (this flows better to me, but this is a matter of taste) like a boy shivering in the cold, when he only felt like burning.
Beside him, his older brother rubbed his nose, but Raian couldn’t tell if he was crying. Holding it in, maybe, just like their father. Raian sniffled, bit his lip, and tried to stand straighter, too.
The gods called down a sharp wind from the mountains, a wind that buffeted the pines and the fires and the corners of the stark white linen wrapped around Mother’s form. It stole the funeral rites from the mouth of the elder, as if to carry the words back for the gods alone to hear. (Nice imagery)
Father sighed, his breath shaking as he let it go. “It’s time,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Taro, hold Anani’s hand.” He squatted between them and lowered the toddler from his arm. Father gave Taro’s shoulder a squeeze and kissed Anani’s cheek. They looked just like him, brown hair and eyes dark as spring soil.
Raian tugged at his own hair, too dark for a proper Ashtian, but not the vivid black of his mother’s ancestry. Mother would say his eyes were like the clash of a storm cloud and a clear sky. Even his skin tone was somewhere in the middle. It was as if the gods leeched the colors from him, just enough to set him apart.
All thoughts and critique are appreciated! Hope you like it!
I like to read the first page before the query, since people need to be able to make sense of what they're reading without any context clues. You did a good job with that. However, this scene doesn't provoke any sense of conflict. Sure, it's sad, but I know nothing about Raian's mom, so it doesn't make me feel anything. Is there any way you could portray some tension running between the family members? Does anyone blame anyone else for the mother's death?
I don't have a lot of complaints about the writing, and with a little more micro tension this scene could work well for me.
However, I feel bound to ask (please don't hate me!) -- are you sure it is adult? I get a strong YA vibe from this, which is no bad thing. YA simply is a story focused from a younger perspective. I do see quite a few writers who feel a story can't be adult because of heavy or serious themes, but that's no barrier either; it's mostly about that MC perspective as to whether a story is ya or not.
Sorry, I hope that doesn't take the wind out of your sails or anything, there's lots of good stuff to like. But even if it fita into adult you might find that ya is an easier sell for a book with a younger protagonist (and perhaps bill it in your housekeeping section as having "crossover appeal").
"Where shall the word be found, where will the word Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence."
It rained on the day Mother would join the gods. Do we need "would" in this opening line? Maybe, "The day mother joined the gods, it rained." (or go even further, "it rained hard enough to flood the plains", or, "almost hard enough to extinguish her pyre" - make the rain mean something rather than merely describing the weather). Raian stood with his arms tightly coiled around himself, and looked likea boy shivering in the cold, despite his burning insides. he only felt likeburning. Trying to remove filter words "looked", "felt", they distance us from the character.
His older brother stood alongside, rubbing his nose, Beside him, his older brother rubbed his nose, but Raian couldn’t tell if he was crying or itching for the ceremony to end. (Perhaps an insight here into what his brother's really feeling, at the same time grounding the reader in terms of where we are, and also trying to add some conflict because although this is sad, we need to see more tension.) Holding it in, maybe, justlike their father, (can we see where their father is in relation to Raian and his brother - is he stood near, a little way off, on his own etc). Raian sniffled, bit his lip, and tried to stand straighter, too.
The gods called down (did they?) a sharp wind from the mountains, a wind that buffeted the pines and the fires and the corners of the stark white linen wrapped around Mother’s form. It stole the funeral rites from the mouth of the elder, as if to carry the words back for the gods alone to hear. (Not sure we're a god or two too many?)
Father sighed, his breath shaking as he let it go. “It’s time,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Taro, hold Anani’s hand.” (These characters appear from nowhere - I think we need to see them somehow before father addresses them.) He squatted between them and lowered the toddler from his arm. Father gave Taro’s shoulder a squeeze and kissed Anani’s cheek. They looked just (be careful of crutch words like "just" and "like" - I've highlighted in red to show you how many you've used) like him, brown hair and eyes dark as spring soil. (Is spring soil any darker than soil at any other time of the year?)
Raian tugged at his own hair, too dark for a proper Ashtian, but not the vivid black of his mother’s ancestry. Mother would say his eyes were like the clash of a storm cloud and a clear sky. Even his skin tone was somewhere in the middle. It was as if the gods leeched the colors from him, just enough to set him apart.
All thoughts and critique are appreciated! Hope you like it!
Soraya, this is beautiful scene setting and certainly a moving passage, but we don't know the mother or the rest of the family well enough to care for them just yet so be careful of too many metaphors, where everything is beautiful but nothing actually happens. We need an understanding of WHY this is sad, what took the mother, what conflict is Raian and his family facing, even a hint of the stakes so we are driven to read on and find out how they face what's to come. Your writing is truly lovely, but we need a hint of the story otherwise it's hard to become invested. Also, as Nycteris says below, is Raian not a boy rather than an adult - in case are you sure it's adult? Without reading anything else it's hard to be certain but certainly it has a YA feel to it from the opening. Finally, be careful of crutch words and filters - they slow down the writing and distance us from the characters. Easy to fix, but when the rest of the prose is so lovely you simply don't need these filler words.
I don't have a lot of complaints about the writing, and with a little more micro tension this scene could work well for me.
However, I feel bound to ask (please don't hate me!) -- are you sure it is adult? I get a strong YA vibe from this, which is no bad thing. YA simply is a story focused from a younger perspective. I do see quite a few writers who feel a story can't be adult because of heavy or serious themes, but that's no barrier either; it's mostly about that MC perspective as to whether a story is ya or not.
Sorry, I hope that doesn't take the wind out of your sails or anything, there's lots of good stuff to like. But even if it fita into adult you might find that ya is an easier sell for a book with a younger protagonist (and perhaps bill it in your housekeeping section as having "crossover appeal").
I get what you're saying, and no worries! I guess this is like a prologue beginning, since its the only scene from his young perspective. The rest of the novel he's an adult. For awhile I was actually pitching it as NA, but stopped because some people accept NA but others don't really seem to recognize it. I don't know lol
It rained on the day Mother would join the gods. Do we need "would" in this opening line? Maybe, "The day mother joined the gods, it rained." (or go even further, "it rained hard enough to flood the plains", or, "almost hard enough to extinguish her pyre" - make the rain mean something rather than merely describing the weather). Raian stood with his arms tightly coiled around himself, and looked likea boy shivering in the cold, despite his burning insides. he only felt likeburning. Trying to remove filter words "looked", "felt", they distance us from the character.
His older brother stood alongside, rubbing his nose, Beside him, his older brother rubbed his nose, but Raian couldn’t tell if he was crying or itching for the ceremony to end. (Perhaps an insight here into what his brother's really feeling, at the same time grounding the reader in terms of where we are, and also trying to add some conflict because although this is sad, we need to see more tension.) Holding it in, maybe, justlike their father, (can we see where their father is in relation to Raian and his brother - is he stood near, a little way off, on his own etc). Raian sniffled, bit his lip, and tried to stand straighter, too.
The gods called down (did they?) a sharp wind from the mountains, a wind that buffeted the pines and the fires and the corners of the stark white linen wrapped around Mother’s form. It stole the funeral rites from the mouth of the elder, as if to carry the words back for the gods alone to hear. (Not sure we're a god or two too many?)
Father sighed, his breath shaking as he let it go. “It’s time,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Taro, hold Anani’s hand.” (These characters appear from nowhere - I think we need to see them somehow before father addresses them.) He squatted between them and lowered the toddler from his arm. Father gave Taro’s shoulder a squeeze and kissed Anani’s cheek. They looked just (be careful of crutch words like "just" and "like" - I've highlighted in red to show you how many you've used) like him, brown hair and eyes dark as spring soil. (Is spring soil any darker than soil at any other time of the year?)
Raian tugged at his own hair, too dark for a proper Ashtian, but not the vivid black of his mother’s ancestry. Mother would say his eyes were like the clash of a storm cloud and a clear sky. Even his skin tone was somewhere in the middle. It was as if the gods leeched the colors from him, just enough to set him apart.
All thoughts and critique are appreciated! Hope you like it!
Soraya, this is beautiful scene setting and certainly a moving passage, but we don't know the mother or the rest of the family well enough to care for them just yet so be careful of too many metaphors, where everything is beautiful but nothing actually happens. We need an understanding of WHY this is sad, what took the mother, what conflict is Raian and his family facing, even a hint of the stakes so we are driven to read on and find out how they face what's to come. Your writing is truly lovely, but we need a hint of the story otherwise it's hard to become invested. Also, as Nycteris says below, is Raian not a boy rather than an adult - in case are you sure it's adult? Without reading anything else it's hard to be certain but certainly it has a YA feel to it from the opening. Finally, be careful of crutch words and filters - they slow down the writing and distance us from the characters. Easy to fix, but when the rest of the prose is so lovely you simply don't need these filler words.
Thank you so much for the helpful comments. I already took care of the filler words and I'll work in some more tension. There's tension is in the next couple paragraphs, too, but 250 words is so little XD
I think in the context of agents, if they see it titled Prologue, they will probably guess it is short (his childhood bit) and it will be alright. I did wonder if it might be a prologue.
I read the query but wasn't sure if he was still a teen throughout his adventures.
Good luck with it!
PS - you are right about NA, it was only really a thing for romance and most agents are saying NA is dead.
"Where shall the word be found, where will the word Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence."