See, when I read these words: “and as I studied closer I noticed one leaf was mid-fall, twisting its way to the ground. I could almost feel its feathered descent, the pull of the earth, the path it would take, imagining the way it would flutter and turn through the air to finally settle among a patch of its kin.” I was in the scene, inside the bookstore, but also immersed in the image of the book, next to the hanging man, possibly fluttering down side by side with that leaf in mid fall. And this speaks to the magic of your writing, of your descriptive and evocative ability. Absolutely beautiful, Nathan.
Wonderful to hear, Silvio. Thank you. This was a sentence that went through a few rounds to try and find the correct feel, but it was also one that had mostly survived from the original draft, so it makes me happy to hear you mention it.
Oh this is just getting better and better, Nathan. I loved this line "...there it lay. At the bottom of the tree, beneath the dead man's feet, was a single, unforgettable shape..." What a fine story-teller you are. I feel you making up this story as we go along, as if casually seated around a campfire in the dark. ( I notice a few more unexpected verb foroms, but I don't question them any more, I find them just odd enough... that is to say, just right. )
Thank you, Sharron, that's too kind. I really appreciate you being invested in the story, it keeps the motivation high.
I am looking forward to getting to your latest (and Terry's, too) in my inbox. There's a stack of reads I've been saving in my inbox, so I hope you don't feel I've been ignoring your writing!
You have mastered the art of intrigue with all your usual descriptive finesse in this story Nathan, I loved so many lines, somehow you write motion into immobile… “In the stagnant heat, I realised I had no notion of the duration of our silence—time, I felt, had become uncertain; I could no longer trust in its regular divisions.” That last phrase especially… as if time had already divided about your senses in that chair… so good!
And the oak leaf… it was falling in slow motion for me from the moment mentioned…
Do I really have to wait for the weekend for the next chapter?
Aw, you're the best Susie. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment.
Sadly, it'll be next week for the next instalment, sorry! I wanted to break things up slightly, so it's a random thing of a post this week, and then a return next week. I hope you don't mind.
I concur with Silvio - we are there in that begrimed bookstore, smelling the reek of the man, tingling with horror. Oh lord, I need my smelling salts! :)
Wonderful Nathan. Love where this is going. Feels almost a bit Grimm’s Fairy Tale, emphasis on “grim.”:) You are always finding ways to animate the inanimate, or at least through your language breathe life and power into objects that we too often assume inert/powerless. Your worlds are alive with mystery!
Thanks so much Kimberly! One of my aims here is certainly to grant something alive to something that should, within all reason, not have any sense of being alive. I'm glad that's coming through.
The sun’s relentless march! ;) I like it. Also like the azure sky, even though Dan Simmons is more into lapis lazuli. The magnifying glass scene was magnificent. I could see it vividly play out.
The intrigue continues, the fivestone has found us, we need to know, in knowing lies the true power.
Nathan! This is incredible. To rework an old tale . It must be difficult to look for your own flaws, still visible in the clay. Your ‘golem’, has allowed you to mold, to sculpt , with words. I can only imagine the smile slowly spreading across your face, when the newly formed draft is complete. And it is excellent . I went back to the beginning and re-read Jozar’s story.
“A strange affliction has become him. It is since he found that piece of sky, a rock he holds so precious.”
You continue to assault my senses with your descriptive weavings within the story.
I’m getting some ‘flavors’ reminiscent of Patrick Rothfuss; The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle)
“I dropped the magnifying glass, a small cloud of dust puffing out from around the lens. I stood up and pushed back the chair, but my movements were too rapid and they mixed with my shock and dehydration to send me reeling. The room began to sway. It span and shrank, a darkness intruding from the corners of my eyes. I staggered towards the doorway like a drunk…”
I want the entire novel please, most definitely a page turner.
Gosh, thank you Lor. This comment is almost too much for me to take ☺️. Flavours of Rothfuss, that magical (unfinished!) tale -- to emit such, even if only in fragments, is wonderful to hear. The clay was a little harder this week and it took some time to moisten it with the correct words, but I am hopeful of the golem taking shape. I also feel that the original estimates of how long this retelling would be were somewhat off. Although I have the arc written, it is already expanding, despite me trimming and trimming away.
I think I will take a brief intermission for something random next week, and then we can resume the tale of the stone from the beach.
Ah, you know of P. Rothfuss. The Doors of Stone. When I saw he had a name for the final book, I was excited. I wonder if it is destined to be the title of a book with blank pages.
I do worry for what has happened. He seems to have fallen into the pit of Success. I haven't actually read either of the side stories he's published, for fear they will just make me weep and want The Doors of Stone even more.
Feels similar with GRR Martin. Will the Winds of Winter ever arrive?
Brilliantly done, Nathan. As I think I mentioned before, this story immerses the reader in the smells and heat of location and makes you feel like you are sitting in the corner of the room, a casual observer to these strange events
Kathleen got there ahead of me with the “each line holding the secrets of years” which is a favourite but all the writing is so tight and exact without a word wasted. Great stuff 👍🏼
-"The man’s eyes wrinkled, each line holding the secrets of his years."
-the watching and waiting
"I could almost feel its feathered descent, the pull of the earth, the path it would take, imagining the way it would flutter and turn through the air to finally settle among a patch of its kin. "
Have you been to Marrakech? Just wondering. I have not.
I'm also interested to know how much you changed from those years ago when this was penned?
I think the subtle (?) points about time in this have been some of the most interesting for me to approach. I feel it's something you couldn't quite so intimately convey without being in the first person.
I've only ever been to Marrakech within my mother's belly when she was very pregnant, or so I am told. Have been to Egypt, though, and so some of the external thoughts on that market street come from wandering the bazaars of Cairo and looking at pictures of Marrakech, even though there hasn't actually been much description of it.
I've toyed endlessly with the order of scenes in the rewriting/editing of this from the original, but there are some sentences that are largely unchanged (the description of the tree and leaf you and others have quoted being one example, though I have refined words and phrasing, or at least attempted to).
Oh yes, I think the first person is working in that way for you. 👌🏽
Interesting about places you’ve been before birth! My son is always talking about the places we’ve told him he’s been ‘in my tummy.’ There’s a certain kind of intrigue there, I think. Maybe something that could be explored, also in reference to time.
I realiZe my question about change was ambiguous. I meant it as you answered, but it could also be about how YOU have changed since writing it. You’ve probably also noticed this. 😁
See, when I read these words: “and as I studied closer I noticed one leaf was mid-fall, twisting its way to the ground. I could almost feel its feathered descent, the pull of the earth, the path it would take, imagining the way it would flutter and turn through the air to finally settle among a patch of its kin.” I was in the scene, inside the bookstore, but also immersed in the image of the book, next to the hanging man, possibly fluttering down side by side with that leaf in mid fall. And this speaks to the magic of your writing, of your descriptive and evocative ability. Absolutely beautiful, Nathan.
Wonderful to hear, Silvio. Thank you. This was a sentence that went through a few rounds to try and find the correct feel, but it was also one that had mostly survived from the original draft, so it makes me happy to hear you mention it.
Appreciate your thoughts and comments as always.
Excellent stuff Nathan. The only words I was disappointed in were 'to be continued' not because I wanted it to end but because I have to wait. - Jim
Thank you Jim, this made me smile. More soon, I promise.
Very gripping, bordering on Borgesian. Quite masterful. Love the verbs you sometimes use.
Thanks, Terry. I will gladly take Borgesian!
😁
Wow. What a continuation. It gave me pause and shook me. Especially the ending. It must go on!
Yay, that's great to hear (despite the nature of the ending of this chapter… 😬)
Thanks as always, Nadia.
The ending is ooof. But I’m hopeful!!!
Oh this is just getting better and better, Nathan. I loved this line "...there it lay. At the bottom of the tree, beneath the dead man's feet, was a single, unforgettable shape..." What a fine story-teller you are. I feel you making up this story as we go along, as if casually seated around a campfire in the dark. ( I notice a few more unexpected verb foroms, but I don't question them any more, I find them just odd enough... that is to say, just right. )
Thank you, Sharron, that's too kind. I really appreciate you being invested in the story, it keeps the motivation high.
I am looking forward to getting to your latest (and Terry's, too) in my inbox. There's a stack of reads I've been saving in my inbox, so I hope you don't feel I've been ignoring your writing!
You have mastered the art of intrigue with all your usual descriptive finesse in this story Nathan, I loved so many lines, somehow you write motion into immobile… “In the stagnant heat, I realised I had no notion of the duration of our silence—time, I felt, had become uncertain; I could no longer trust in its regular divisions.” That last phrase especially… as if time had already divided about your senses in that chair… so good!
And the oak leaf… it was falling in slow motion for me from the moment mentioned…
Do I really have to wait for the weekend for the next chapter?
Aw, you're the best Susie. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment.
Sadly, it'll be next week for the next instalment, sorry! I wanted to break things up slightly, so it's a random thing of a post this week, and then a return next week. I hope you don't mind.
I concur with Silvio - we are there in that begrimed bookstore, smelling the reek of the man, tingling with horror. Oh lord, I need my smelling salts! :)
Hehe, thanks Troy. I could probably do with some of those myself.
Every line is so well — and so tightly —executed, Nathan. It is a pleasure to be a reader in your hands.
That's so so lovely. Thank you. It's a pleasure to have you as a reader!
Wonderful Nathan. Love where this is going. Feels almost a bit Grimm’s Fairy Tale, emphasis on “grim.”:) You are always finding ways to animate the inanimate, or at least through your language breathe life and power into objects that we too often assume inert/powerless. Your worlds are alive with mystery!
Thanks so much Kimberly! One of my aims here is certainly to grant something alive to something that should, within all reason, not have any sense of being alive. I'm glad that's coming through.
The sun’s relentless march! ;) I like it. Also like the azure sky, even though Dan Simmons is more into lapis lazuli. The magnifying glass scene was magnificent. I could see it vividly play out.
The intrigue continues, the fivestone has found us, we need to know, in knowing lies the true power.
Hehe, I forgot he is such a fan of that lapis lazuli. Good word. Maybe I'll try to sneak it in somewhere to a future story.
Thanks for reading, my friend. Hope the holiday is going well.
Yeah, I never realized until recently either and reading azure I remembered. Vacation is going well, thanks!
Building intrigue and (potential) horror 😀 Fantastic writing as it always is. I can't help wonder how different it is to the first pass!...
... And possibly you will never know! 😆
Thanks for reading, Chris. Much appreciated.
Nathan! This is incredible. To rework an old tale . It must be difficult to look for your own flaws, still visible in the clay. Your ‘golem’, has allowed you to mold, to sculpt , with words. I can only imagine the smile slowly spreading across your face, when the newly formed draft is complete. And it is excellent . I went back to the beginning and re-read Jozar’s story.
“A strange affliction has become him. It is since he found that piece of sky, a rock he holds so precious.”
You continue to assault my senses with your descriptive weavings within the story.
I’m getting some ‘flavors’ reminiscent of Patrick Rothfuss; The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle)
“I dropped the magnifying glass, a small cloud of dust puffing out from around the lens. I stood up and pushed back the chair, but my movements were too rapid and they mixed with my shock and dehydration to send me reeling. The room began to sway. It span and shrank, a darkness intruding from the corners of my eyes. I staggered towards the doorway like a drunk…”
I want the entire novel please, most definitely a page turner.
Gosh, thank you Lor. This comment is almost too much for me to take ☺️. Flavours of Rothfuss, that magical (unfinished!) tale -- to emit such, even if only in fragments, is wonderful to hear. The clay was a little harder this week and it took some time to moisten it with the correct words, but I am hopeful of the golem taking shape. I also feel that the original estimates of how long this retelling would be were somewhat off. Although I have the arc written, it is already expanding, despite me trimming and trimming away.
I think I will take a brief intermission for something random next week, and then we can resume the tale of the stone from the beach.
Ah, you know of P. Rothfuss. The Doors of Stone. When I saw he had a name for the final book, I was excited. I wonder if it is destined to be the title of a book with blank pages.
I do worry for what has happened. He seems to have fallen into the pit of Success. I haven't actually read either of the side stories he's published, for fear they will just make me weep and want The Doors of Stone even more.
Feels similar with GRR Martin. Will the Winds of Winter ever arrive?
That’s funny you said that, I didn’t read them either , for the same reason. Winds of Winter, a great title…
Brilliantly done, Nathan. As I think I mentioned before, this story immerses the reader in the smells and heat of location and makes you feel like you are sitting in the corner of the room, a casual observer to these strange events
Kathleen got there ahead of me with the “each line holding the secrets of years” which is a favourite but all the writing is so tight and exact without a word wasted. Great stuff 👍🏼
Thanks so much, Dan. In this rewrite, I have been striving to get closer to that claustrophobic and heat-soaked room, so that's great to hear!
Things I loved in this story -
-playing with time
-"The man’s eyes wrinkled, each line holding the secrets of his years."
-the watching and waiting
"I could almost feel its feathered descent, the pull of the earth, the path it would take, imagining the way it would flutter and turn through the air to finally settle among a patch of its kin. "
Have you been to Marrakech? Just wondering. I have not.
I'm also interested to know how much you changed from those years ago when this was penned?
Wonderful mystery and prose, Nathan!
Thank you, Kate. 🙏
I think the subtle (?) points about time in this have been some of the most interesting for me to approach. I feel it's something you couldn't quite so intimately convey without being in the first person.
I've only ever been to Marrakech within my mother's belly when she was very pregnant, or so I am told. Have been to Egypt, though, and so some of the external thoughts on that market street come from wandering the bazaars of Cairo and looking at pictures of Marrakech, even though there hasn't actually been much description of it.
I've toyed endlessly with the order of scenes in the rewriting/editing of this from the original, but there are some sentences that are largely unchanged (the description of the tree and leaf you and others have quoted being one example, though I have refined words and phrasing, or at least attempted to).
So appreciate your thoughts as always.
Oh yes, I think the first person is working in that way for you. 👌🏽
Interesting about places you’ve been before birth! My son is always talking about the places we’ve told him he’s been ‘in my tummy.’ There’s a certain kind of intrigue there, I think. Maybe something that could be explored, also in reference to time.
I realiZe my question about change was ambiguous. I meant it as you answered, but it could also be about how YOU have changed since writing it. You’ve probably also noticed this. 😁
Heh, good alternative version of the question. Yes, most certainly, though I would need to ponder on that for an answer …
The consistency of your prose and level of storytelling is so impressive Nathan. I do not know how you do it!
Thanks, Taegan! That's really lovely of you. Appreciate you being here reading.
Really tight pacing here, Nathan. I dig it. Very visceral, too.
Thank you, Ben. With each round of editing I try to tighten the pacing as much as I can.