First chapter of a satire novel I'm working on, tell me what you think! --- Today would’ve been a day like any other had it not been for the peculiar date – Friday the Thirteenth. A date, to which some place a very bad significance and the date in itself seems to be a bad omen. Many people have ended up injuring themselves on Friday the Thirteenth, and there have been many debates over whether it was because of the fact that the date was indeed as unlucky as people believed it to be through the ages, or because it was just because people usually were nervous and tried to do nothing wrong. Jack Bowers woke up at 7:13 – something which you might find strange because he wasn’t used to getting up at that time. Normally he’d have to be woken up by his alarm clock, and even then he usually slept at least ten minutes later. He checked his alarm clock, saw the time and made no connection whatsoever to the minutes and the day that it was today (which it was both 13 if you hadn’t been paying attention). He lay in bed for a while before he got up, wondering what made him wake up in the first place. It wasn’t his wife (obviously, she’d left him a long time ago), and it was no noise that he could notice (and if it was a noise, it was certainly long gone now). It was the moment that he sat up in bed and pulled the curtains back that he had a strange suspicion what woke him, even though just the thought seemed impossible. He grabbed each end of the curtain and pulled, and as he did so he ended up staring straight into the black void of a raven’s eyes. Jack Bowers realized one definite peculiarity about this morning, and that was that it wasn’t the usual Bluebird that sat on his windowsill, but a raven, and that their usual singing couldn’t be heard anywhere. He sat that way for a while watching the Raven, it was not unlike a staring contest to see who would back away first. As if that didn’t unsettle him enough, there was the fact that it just sat there, not moving, barely blinking, looking every bit like a statuette of a Raven instead of a real, live one. It didn’t even move when the paperboy drove by on his bike and nearly knocked it over by throwing a copy of the Daily Jester right at it. It didn’t flinch when it noticed the black cat (who was, by the way, another bad omen to add to the list for this day). Instead of flying away, the Raven still just stared straight ahead, completely ignoring the cat, whom backed away slowly as if even he was scared of it himself. “Shoo!” Jack waved his arms dramatically to try and chase the darned thing away, it still wouldn’t move. Eventually he gave up and got up from the bed (with his left foot, which was a third omen coming from the words: “Getting up on the wrong side of the bed”) and walked to the bathroom to go make himself breakfast. He stopped in his tracks and thought: That can’t be right, can it? You’re not even properly awake yet for goodness sake! He turned around and walked to the kitchen to get his morning coffee, just so that he could sober up before he did anything else and risked injuring himself by some more bad luck. It usually took a while for the sleep to exit completely from his system, especially on this morning. There was only two things that could fix that: Black, strong coffee with three sugars in it, or walking into a cupboard door head first. He found that the first method worked, although the second method worked faster (and left you with a pounding headache), but he personally preferred the first method. He got a cup from the cupboard that was chipped and slightly stained and threw in exactly the right amounts of coffee and sugar. He never liked drinking coffee anywhere else unless he made it himself – coffee made by anyone else just didn’t seem to taste the same. He took the time to throw a pinch of salt over his shoulder, making sure to avert any Omens that crossed his path so far. Especially that damned Raven. One thing he didn’t take into consideration was that in order for that ritual to be lucky you had to throw it over your right shoulder. He didn’t, and so this ritual did nothing but waste a pinch of salt he could have added to badly cooked baked beans. He drank his coffee, just sitting at the kitchen table still in his pajamas, thinking about all the work he had to do when he got to the library. He had to catalogue a bunch of books and then carry them to the corresponding shelved. It was a task that could take hours and was hell on his back these days. After that he went to take a shower, but gave it up because the water was too cold. He could end up as a Human Ice Cube by the time he was done, and that would be if the pipes hadn’t frozen shut themselves. “Where’d I put them?” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his coat and rummaged through the pockets for his car keys. Eventually he found them behind the flower pot, hidden behind a flower and a leaf. Lord only knows how they got there, but he blamed the Raven for that. What else could it be? He shivered again at the thought of the Raven. What was it doing at this moment? Was it watching him again, watching his every move? That’s bloody ridiculous! He scolded himself. It was a Raven, nothing but a bird for God’s sake, it couldn’t see through walls and it was definitely not watching him! But as he went out the front door he couldn’t shake the feeling he had gotten ever since he looked into its eyes.
Gee...why didn't I think of that... Thanks I only did it to show where the chapter starts and ends, if it makes it difficult to read then I can change it. Might work on the 2nd chapter later on, then I may or may not post it here. L_S
Okay, I changed it Hope it reads easier now. Although feel free to say what you think of the story. I'm open to suggestions!
So far so good. I'd like to read more. "Lord only knows how they got there, but he blamed the Raven for that. What else could it be? He shivered again at the thought of the Raven. What was it doing at this moment? Was it watching him again, watching his every move? That’s bloody ridiculous! He scolded himself. It was a Raven, nothing but a bird for God’s sake, it couldn’t see through walls and it was definitely not watching him! But as he went out the front door he couldn’t shake the feeling he had gotten ever since he looked into its eyes." I'm not sure what kind of effect you're trying to get but I feel that you should try to personify the raven a little more in this. Rather than using "the Raven" or "it" maybe use he or his. Just a thought. Oh, also that last bit should all be one paragraph.
Agreed. There's a little bit more about the Raven in later chapters, but I'll mention him a bit more in the first chapter too. Thanks for the comment L_S
I would also like to read more. My husband was born on Fri the 13th, he is also the 13th grandson to one of his grandma's. He get's hurt often and thinks he has bad luck. Sometimes I belive him, who else gets bit by a pihranna in Alaska and has to go to the hospital, lol.
It just doesn't read well at all to me. Overall, it sounds like it was written by someone in grade school. Parts of it are just awkward: "Jack Bowers woke up at 7:13 – something which you might find strange because he wasn’t used to getting up at that time." Why would I find that strange? I don't know this Jack Bowers - you're only just introducing him to me. Then there are parts that are just boring: "He lay in bed for a while before he got up, wondering what made him wake up in the first place. It wasn’t his wife (obviously, she’d left him a long time ago), and it was no noise that he could notice (and if it was a noise, it was certainly long gone now). It was the moment that he sat up in bed and pulled the curtains back that he had a strange suspicion what woke him, even though just the thought seemed impossible." There doesn't seem to be much creativity driving it at all. Nothing new or unique. It seems like I've already read it before (albeit, better written). I'm just left wondering if you stole this from Edgar Allan Poe, Alfred Hitchcock, or Stephen King. The lack of life or anything scary makes me think the latter. I'm sorry to hit you so hard - I know how it feels - but it's just not good - I don't even have a single compliment to try to lighten my post with.
Don't be sorry for being honest - it does help. I'm working on the 2nd chapter, and I'll definitely go back to the 1st and give it a review based on the comments that I get. L_S
Okay, your character's getting up in the morning, he's got a raven watching. He's accepted some traditional superstitious notions. Where are you going with this? Give us a story line. Also, why doesn't he have hot water? Isn't he paying his utility bill? Is his water heater out of order?
I have a few questions. Is English your first language? Have you been writing long? How much do you write? How much do you read? Have you read 'The Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe??
i found it difficult to read because of the redundant explanations of everything. let the reader figure out a few things.
