Character First Impression

Hi all, this is my first time posting a piece to the Chronicles for critique.

This is an 860-word excerpt from a WiP that, in the first rough draft, had one POV character. My writer's group got about a third of the way into it before I decided the problems were systemic. I pulled it out of group and now I'm doing a radical overhaul. I am experimenting with adding a secondary POV character because a lot of things happened that were impossible for the original character to observe. The excerpt below was originally the opening scene, that I have reworked a bit. Now, with the addition of second POV, two chapters precede it. This is the first time that my prince appears on stage.

What I'm looking for is "first impressions" of the fellow. Is he engaging? Boring? Likeable? Unlikeable?

* * * excerpt starts here * * *

Prince Glëa po'Lon gladly endured the mid-morning sun under his layers of ceremonial robes. At last, the day has arrived! His traditional satin-lined wool robe had a collar and cuffs of mountain fox fur. His layers of red velvet surcoat, corduroy tabard, and silk shirts were being utterly ruined in sweat. Yet he smiled and held himself upright with all the poise he could muster. On this day, he would be crowned prince and heir to the kingdom.


His procession began at the barbican archway of the bridge over the river, where the King's Highway extended into Capital City. Sunshine thickened the humid air. Even the sea breezes off the harbor were blocked by the city's buildings and the high walls of Xolhold Castle.


He rode a platform chair carried on the shoulders of two dozen royal guards. They dressed in their finest black wool uniforms with red piping on the seams, flat felt caps with braided silk cord, and bronze buttons that imitated gold. A squad of grand black stallions pranced ahead of them, hooves clattering on the white brick road. The mounted flag bearer held aloft the magnificent banner of the royal house—the bull's horns emblem of the House of Davarche emblazoned in scarlet on black—as the procession advanced through the streets.


Prince Glëa waved to the left and to the right. Wherever his hand passed, the common folk garbed in gray linen and brown straw hats roared his praises. People had traveled from the farthest corners of the realm: from the evergreen forests to the southwest, from the wheat and barley fields of the Clichard Valleys, from the swampy shores of the Southern Peninsula, and from the chilly waters of the Northern Bay islands. He squinted through a haze of sweltering air as sunshine burned a hole in the cloudless sky.


"My people!" he shouted to the cheering throng. His strong voice carried throughout the rows and rows of upturned faces. "My beloved people!"


"Hail, hail the Light of the World!" The phrase was prompted by strategically placed courtiers who tapped festive shoulder drums to direct the crowd's exaltation. Courtiers had been working the crowd for hours, instructing them where to align themselves on the shoulders of the great road, what to say, how to genuflect when his procession passed. "Hail, Glëa po'Lon! Hail the Light of the World," resounded through the population like the swish of ocean waves. Various regional dialects corrupted the king's tongue, and Glëa heard his own name warped and mispronounced in a dozen different ways. Glaah, Guller, Gillohey, Gollea—some he understood; some he had to assume. However they mangled his name, Glëa kept smiling at the crowds. For they were his father's loyal and adoring subjects, the bread and butter of the kingdom.


The platform chair proceeded along the avenue approaching the high limestone walls of Xolhold Castle—the largest and grandest structure in the world. Sunlight and blue sky shined behind the castle, from the eastern sea, and framed it all in one breathtaking tableau. For a brief moment, Prince Glëa felt unsettled by a sensation he had not felt since he was a small child. The castle of my father and my forefathers... It's so damned huge!


His chair bearers continued to bear him over the drawbridge. Planks radiated heat upwards. The moat's deep green waters had the odor of boiling algae. After three days of ritual fasting, Prince Glëa's stomach turned. He kept smiling but held his breath until they reached the gatehouse.


Passing into the shade of the gatehouse gave no respite from the heat; it seemed worse in the cramped dark cave under the portcullis.


At last, shielded from the view of the adoring throng, Glëa pulled a damp handkerchief from his sleeve's cuff and dabbed his forehead.


One of the spear carriers at the gate remarked, "He's not lookin' so good."


Prince Glëa brushed away those words and a cluster of buzzing flies. "I'm fine," he said. "Show no haste, men. We must progress with stately dignity or my father will be displeased."


The platform chair emerged to the open courtyard. Chair-bearers continued at an unhurried pace, taking small steps forward in a synchronized march. Glëa felt a sway like floating on a small boat, and again nausea gurgled in his starving stomach.


Gentry assembled in the courtyard let out a unified shout of, "Hurrah, hail to the prince!" Glëa blinked against the perspiration that dribbled freely over his eyes. He scanned through the haze of heat at the crowd worthy to gather within the walls of the inner bailey: gentlemen lords and their ladies, merchants and ships' captains, licensed tradesmen and guild masters.


"My lords, my ladies, and my good sirs." Glëa caught the hoarse sound of his voice and paused to clear his dry throat. I sound like a toad. "Welcome to my father's house! My thanks and... and gratitude to you, good loyals all."


Prince Glëa straightened his spine and raised himself taller against the weight of his royal robes. He broadened his smile. He waved boldly to the gentlemen and ladies. His jeweled rings flashed brightly. Gold bands in direct sunlight grew warmer on his fingers.

* * * end of excerpt * * *

Denise Tanaka said:

What I'm looking for is "first impressions" of the fellow. Is he engaging? Boring? Likeable? Unlikeable?

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I'm afraid I don't get much impression of character - he waves, considers dialects, and sweats - but otherwise does little else in the scene.

Neither does he show any qualities that might make a reader sympathise with him - there are no nerves, no sense of tension, no fears at all. Neither does he come across as particular confident, buoyed, or buzzing with the moment.

The spelling of his name also comes across as somewhat bizarre and difficult to pronounce, which makes him additionally distant.

The descriptions in the piece itself are well written, but not much character comes through in this IMO.

My first thought was “Oh no, fantasy umlaut”, and my second was “and an apostrophe”. But actually it’s well-written and flows well, I think. The great problem for me is that Glea is almost completely passive. He doesn’t do anything apart from be carried and react as one would expect him to react. Admittedly, he does feel uncomfortable, and the details of his discomfort are good, but there’s not much sense of a personality within the costume. So I can’t really answer the question you’ve posed because the circumstances don’t allow an answer. Only at the end do we get much of a chance to see the man himself, and all I got there was a desire to soldier on despite his discomfort, which could suggest a range of things about him.

I hate to say it, but this isn’t where I would have started the story. For me, he needs to be doing something, rather than having things done to or around him. The easiest way to start a story is to describe an individual doing something that is important to them – while this is definitely about one person, from his point of view, he is so constrained by the circumstances that it’s hard to get a handle on him. One option might be to start either before or after the coronation, when he can respond to his circumstances without anyone seeing, or perhaps to change the details of the coronation ceremony, so that he can have some choice about what happens.

Well, I like how this all feels so farcical, and that he's pressing on for, what I assume, are selfish reasons. I honestly thought he was going to vomit at the end, so the last para ended on a fizzle when this didn't build up to anything. In fact, that last sentence doesn't strike me at all. And as Brian and Toby said, there's no much tension for him, or any real question we are anticipating. I enjoy the situation, but would hope it ended with more.

At the beginning of the piece, he is moving down the procession. But by the end of the piece, he is moving down the procession. See what I mean?

I thought he was slightly feminised by the pomp, but also that he was disconnected from the common man who cheered for him simply because we're told they were instructed to do so. He seems privileged and entitled which makes it a tough sell.

As said by Toby, he needs to do something so we have evidence of his character; at the moment he just seems to be a cypher. This is your introduction to him so it's best to make us remember him. First impressions and all that...

pH

Hi, I feel highly unqualified to comment on your work. However, my response is that of someone who looks for something punchy and straight into the guts type narrative - but that's because I'm into story telling rather than literature. Yet, even though I'm not so keen on the theme or the character, I did appreciate the quality of the picture painting. A little bit of me hoped he will be poisoned out of his pomposity - but, of course he may not be a royal ass, its only the impression I got.

PS. I deliberately didn't read other readers comments before I wrote mine - so at least mine are my own warts!

Great comments! I chose this excerpt because I am struggling with this part. (Sidebar: another character has the honor of starting the book, so this is chapter 3 actually.) My intent is to show him being carried along literally and figuratively to one of the milestones in a life that has already been plotted out for him. He didn't earn it. He didn't work for it. The kingdom and its castle are being handed to him. Deep down in his core, he's not sure if he's what he wants or if it's who he really is, but a prince has never been encouraged to ask these kinds of questions. Very very soon, he will be presented with an opportunity to do something adventurous and stupid, and he will jump at the chance. Yes, Douglas Park, he will be put through some nasty stuff. I wanted to establish a baseline for when things go horribly wrong later. He had it good and he messed it all up.

In earlier versions, he has lots of internal monologue. That did not do the job. He came off as whining, or bratty, or petulant, or confusing. My problem is that he is not pondering his discontent at a high level. He is not 100% cognizant of why he has to force himself to feel happy on this wonderful day. It's deep deep down in his gut.

I tried using the physical discomfort as a metaphor of his deeply suppressed self-doubt, but that doesn't seem to be doing the job either?

Should I have a scene like a nervous bridegroom before the wedding where he confides in someone privately? Perhaps someone else (Alfred the butler?) can articulate the prince's unexpressed doubts, and the prince can try to laugh it off? I mean, anybody would be crazy not to want the crown of the world. Right?

Denise Tanaka said:

I mean, anybody would be crazy not to want the crown of the world. Right?

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This sounds like a perfect illustration of his internal dialogue.

I appreciate what you're trying to accomplish, and I think I got that sense of him. Physical discomfort can be interpretted many ways, so that I don't think that's sufficient by itself, but might add to the image. But your main priority is establishing conflict during this scene.

First of all, well done on your first crit

I've got some high-level comments, then some specific highlights that might warrant some further attention.

I think the scene is quite good, actually; it could be very good if it was sped up a bit. There is something happening; Glea's coronation, but even though it's a procession, it feels a bit like, er.... a procession! What I mean is that it plods along a bit slowly. Some of the description could be tightened up. For example:

"The mounted flag bearer held aloft the magnificent banner of the royal house—the bull's horns emblem of the House of Davarche emblazoned in scarlet on black—as the procession advanced through the street." - the omissions make it snappier.

And again, there's a lot of baggage here:
"Prince Glëa waved to the left and to the right. Wherever his hand passed, the common folk from the farthest corners of the realm, garbed in gray linen and brown straw hats, [I don't see that all of them would be in grey linen and brown straw hats] roared his praises. People had traveled from the farthest corners of the realm: from the evergreen forests to the southwest, from the wheat and barley fields of the Clichard Valleys, from the swampy shores of the Southern Peninsula, and from the chilly waters of the Northern Bay islands. He squinted through a haze of sweltering air as sunshine burned a hole in the cloudless sky."

Even that last line might be redundant as there's plenty about the uncomfortable heat elsewhere,

Try to do this throughout and the scene will rattle along at a better pace.

The commentators above are right about Glea: we need more about his character to be revealed from the get-go. Luckily for you, you've written plenty of things for him to think about. For example, we don't get anything from the mispronunciation of his name - why do they mispronounce it (is he an unknown quantity, like Cliff Thorburn?) How does this make him feel? Angry, upset, confused?

What was the sensation he felt as a child - you tell us he feels something but not what it is!

I'm not sure we get anything from the guard's quip about him looking queasy. We already know he feels queasy.

Again, when he straightens himself up at the end - why does he stand up? Does he want to make the right impression? Appear strong? And if so, why? To the reader it's like one of the guards is regarding him rather than being party to the Prince's thoughts.

A few specific points:

"Mountain-fox fur" doesn't sound very princely. Maybe sable?

"My people! My beloved people!" I got the very slight impression that this wasn't a genuine sentiment, but can't be sure because we don't know what he's thinking.

"The odor [US spelling - intentional or typo?] of boiling algae." I don't know what boiling algae smells like. Why is it boiling? Is the moat hot too? Do you mean a smell like rotten eggs? If so, then say rotten eggs, as most people will identify with it.

"Glëa felt a sway like floating on a small boat." - Either a lack of punctuation or a mistake in there, so needs sorting.

I think that's it. I think SciFrac's supposed ending of having Glea vomit would be a marvellous end to the scene - it certainly would be something happening and give him something to think about, but I don't suppose that fits into your story

Still, the bones of something good are here, so keep at it. There is much scope for tightening the prose up, which you must do to keep things less flabby.

Much thanks, DG Jones! Yes, my early rough drafts tend to ramble. I prefer trimming away baggage once I see it on the page. I'm thinking my character might also be frustrated at the slow pace of the procession. Are we there yet, I'm going to puke if we don't get there soon, etc. He could be having second thoughts if this is really what he wants from life. He is certainly not enjoying it here! I tossed in that bit about the people mispronouncing his name in order to show there are various dialects - it's a big kingdom he's inheriting!

P.S. I'm an American, so all my bad spelling habits can be blamed on Daniel Webster.

Hi Denise! I agree with what was said here. This is dull in contrast to the original. I'm wondering if in doing this, might you have thrown the baby out with the bath water? I was on a panel at a con once and I heard this story from an editor: Something was off in the short story MS she was editing. She spent a lot of time with it and finally passed it back. When it was returned, she read it and loved it, but noticed her suggestions were not taken. But still it worked. So she called the author and asked, "What did you do?" He said, "I deleted one word." She was flabbergasted, but sent the MS through as was.

Is this true? I donno. But it illustrates a point. Sometimes whininess is treatable with some judicious cutting and slight massaging. Remember on my last in group critique one general comment was the protag was bordering on whiny? I went back and cut one sentence and changed two others only a little and you guys said, yep, those were the points. Problem solved.

The last one you did was more about Glea, or at least felt like it was. He was a bit of a *******, but I'm good with that. I just don't want him to be a whiney *******. My opinion is it needed some adjusting, but not being tossed out. Maybe half way in between this and the other? Fetch out some of the more interesting internal monologs and see if they don't fit here?

I think that perhaps the suggestion to start before had was a good one, then you can contrast his real personality with the one he assumes for the public (and maybe chafes against?). Don't have him gossip with someone about how he feels. Someone here said he already was feeling a bit feminine. Have a friend talk to him, try to get him to open up rather than having him just up and unload.

Hi Denise! I'll add some of my quick first impressions (I haven't read the original version):

• Your writing is beautiful, and it flows well. Even if it is an early draft, overall it reads more easily than most of the other submissions that I have read so far.
• I agree with others commenting here that it is difficult to form an impression of the prince. He appears to very princely (from his robes, the ceremony, and so on), but it's impossible to form any idea of what it would be like to sit down and have a cup of tea with him.
• He feels uneasy when he sees the castle. I felt curious at that point. Is it possible to slip a little hint to the reader here? Why does he feel this way? Or perhaps tell the reader that he isn't, in fact, sure what he feels, or why? Everything about the procession seems to be going to plan, but if we're setting the scene for something else happening altogether, then why not drop a hint?

Denise Tanaka said:

I tried using the physical discomfort as a metaphor of his deeply suppressed self-doubt

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I am wondering whether this is having the opposite effect of what you intended. When you start to describe how the prince is feeling sick, I thought it was because of the heat, which is clearly making him feel uncomfortable. If we hadn't had the descriptions of how the heat had been affecting him, then perhaps I would have thought that he was feeling sick because he was nervous. Just a thought.

This is my first time giving a critique, so I'll keep it short and hope that you find it helpful. I read through quite a lot of the replies and most of the things I observed have already been discussed, so I will try not to repeat too much.

You asked what we thought of the character but may I ask how you want the character to be perceived?

I agree with above comments that the character personality doesn't come through in this excerpt.

• I was left with a slight aspect of nervousness from his 'unsettling' thought about how big the castle was and his hesitation as he greets those people within the castle.
• I felt his discomfort was specifically due to the heat and that his endurance of it showed him as someone with tenacity (although could slip perhaps to vanity/pompousness)
• The description of the common people, in terms of their clothing, and the expression 'bread and butter' seemed to indicate that he thinks very little of them personally but understands the import of having them like him as a prince.
• The pall bearers are in the same heat as he is, also attired ridiculously. Should his character give any thought to their discomfort?

Aside from character traits I had just a couple of points. Firstly you have a great ability to describe scene but there is a little too much going on that perhaps slows the story. The main example is that prince is wearing satin, wool, silk, corduroy and fur. Not to mention gold jewellery. As a reader I simply can't keep all of that in my mind as I imagine him. Finally the clothing would normally evolve to be suitable based on a given climate but it almost seems as if the heat is normal. Might be worth mentioning that it is a heat wave / drought, or perhaps that the clothing is a foolish archaic tradition from a previous homeland.... or something

Best of luck

<<gladly endured >>Hmmm, Doubtful,that one,somewhat oxymoronic'
<<the bridge over the river>> rephrase that,because most bridges tend to be over bodies of water
<<Sunshine thickened the humid air>>Hmm.sounds iffy to me
<<Prince Glëa waved to the left and to the right>>He would,being in a procession.This sounds
pretty awkward,might want to rephrase that.Not a lot of people wave toward the north or other compass directions
<<Glëa heard his own name warped and mispronounced in a dozen different ways. Glaah, Guller, Gillohey, Gollea—some he understood; some he had to assume>>???????Think about that,they are chanting his name;what's there to assume?The dialect,perhaps?

<<However they mangled his name, Glëa kept smiling at the crowds>>.
That sounds awful,somehow.And illogical.It's somehow akin to "No matter what the weather was like outside,he drank his coffee with milk and sugar"
<<blue sky shined>>OUCH,OUCH OUCH(shone!)/sky doesn't shine
<<His chair bearers continued to bear him over the drawbridge.>>awkward,the use of "continued"
<<Prince Glëa brushed away those words and a cluster of buzzing flies>>Denise,that's awful,
mixed metaphor
<< Chair-bearers continued at an unhurried pace, taking small steps forward in a synchronized march.>>Show me non-synchronized chair bearers,i'd love to see what happens
<<Prince Glëa straightened his spine and raised himself taller against the weight of his royal robes. He broadened his smile. He waved boldly to the gentlemen and ladies.>>
spine??(not "back????").Few people raise themselves shorter.Why the "boldly"??that looks and feels odd


NOTE ON LOGIC:the day is planned way ahead of time ,I'm sure.Everyone is dressed in thick furs,despite the weather forecast? How majestic is a prince collapsing from heat exhaustion?

But more importantly:I get no sense of place or character from this excerpt.
What I do get is that everybody is uncomfortably hot,and that there is a mighty impressive palace,and more importantlyn a ceremonial hot day,nobody thought about raking the
algae out of the moat(?).I mean,you've got officials tightly directing the show(with "shoulder drums"(which sounds unintentionally funny,I take it you mean the drums are strapped to the shoulders),to boot),and nobody thought about or had smelled the godawful stink??
I take it the prince has terrific hearing?Or that gatekeeper guards tend to shout remarks that might get them beheaded for lese-majeste in a not-so-advanced society ?
I have to agree with Brian:a diacritic e in the name looks and feels wrong.Umlauted e's,i'm not sure they even exist

Denise,i hope you derive some use from all of this.Keep pruning and grafting!!

ok,Ben's tips
cut down on the descriptions of fabric.At least convey something of their meaning(eg.implied wealth),otherwise they don't add much to the piece.
The heat has no more impact on the whole piece than the prince hauling out a hanky,think about that.Nobody faints,nobody is complaining.
Some things rankle,e.g loyal subjects wouldn't need any form of goading to get them to cheer.
One way or another,you fail to get the grandeur of the parade across,but that's my personal opinion.
also,i get no sense of culture/anthropology/sociology.
Feudalism?Autocracy?Hereditary kingship?

Hi there, quite enjoyed reading your excerpt. Thought that it was well written but I am afraid that I know more about the environment and ceremony than I do about the prince. The impression I get of him is that he is simply caught up in the works of the world around him, and trying not to embarrass himself by being sick or something.

I would say that he has to do something to tell me who he is.

Unusually though, I do feel a little drawn into your world and quite fancy finding out who the guy is.