Asking for Some Feedback. Please and Thank You

[IndigoShirtProd]

You know that feeling when you finish working on something and you want to show it to someone to know whether or not it's worth throwing yourself of a bridge? This is one of those times. Well, I'm not too antsy to go diving for fishes yet, but I do want to take a temperature check on this rough draft.

I've mentioned this story before in another thread, and I'm just looking for people's first impressions. Here's the snippet from chapter one.

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Dusone Way. The unfortunate truth is that I called this place, not home, but a place worth living in. I couldn’t stand the grey-black rolling hills of sand that tumbled up into a storm when the wind felt sadistic. Those same grains of stone and ash drove throughout the unkept city, fighting their way through the air to make their place at the base of my lungs. I coughed, hacking and blubbering, all the while thumping my sternum in hopes of releasing those stubborn particles.
Clearly, walking through the storm wasn’t the best of ideas, but the cover in this city was shoddy since most of the buildings had shattered windows. I ducked inside a storefront whose weight was held up by ash-colored columns, whose surface was made of a pattern of charcoal bricks, and whose glass windows were, of course, broken. I didn’t mind the several piles of human bone fragments and worn clothes that laced the floors of the old establishment. It’s too late to be disturbed, let alone surprised by their presence. The dark sand still followed me into the former shop, so I strode farther in. A door swung open beside me, the wind being its carrier, and I turned to look at the occupant.
His skin was rough with lesions like healed the skin of a whipped man, but smooth all the same. I noted deep set lines of age but wide, naive, dark brown eyes of a green soldier. You couldn’t mistake his sallow and sickly nature underneath the richer umber of his skin. The skeleton he bore was obvious as he carried barely any muscle or fat on his frame. Occasionally whipping and then settling around him, the clothing he wore was partially tattered and all black. He looked like death, or, like death was coming for him.
I entered the former bathroom and shut the door behind me, keeping out the desperate sand. I steadied my hand on my cracked reflection as I tried to grasp my appearance. I hadn’t realized it had been years since I saw myself. And all the same, you could see that death was coming for me.
I slid down to the floor as I waited out the storm. I threw my head back to look up at the flickering light that barely illuminated the tiny room. My mouth opened as the gravel left my throat for the open air.
“Another storm… I’m sure I could have avoided it if I’d left by now. ”

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Also please don't link your comic/novel here. This isn't a feedback for feedback type thing.

[justincarbunkle]

Great descriptions. I love the way you revealed the MC's appearance. Can you reveal anymore about the story here?

I'd say keep going. This passage is well written and felt like it had passion behind it.

[IndigoShirtProd]

@justincarbunkle Oh, thank you! I do have a full chapter finished, still a rough draft though. Are you looking to read another section?

[justincarbunkle]

sure!

Post must be at least 20 characters.

[IndigoShirtProd]

Okay, sure I'll post more.

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I shuffled out into the clear air and looked to the south. The dark sandstorm was finally leaving. How gracious of it. I stepped onto the mostly paved, brick-laden street. I began my trek eastward.
My trek ended as I came upon a backless stone bench. I laid my weary body across the cool surface and closed my eyes. Her faint, listless whisper swirled and slipped through the crevices of my mind, bothering me. Who the voice belonged to, I couldn't tell. What she was saying clearly was not for my ears. But she was there… She was always there.
“Chaps! Over here! Come, come. Jon! Wake up man, the others are here.” A warm and hearty voice called out.
I furrowed my brow, trying to ignore them. Trying to pretend I was asleep.
“Redvers, he’s sleeping. You know he always does this after a storm.” A smoother, softer voice followed after.
“He’s not sleeping. Ugh! You fall for this every single time!” A wiry, uneven voice said. “You’re such a simpleton!”
“He is not simple.” A thick but calming voice replied, “He’s sympathetic to Jonathan. Those storms seem to chase him through this city, like a dog after its own tail.”
I gave up. They never let me be. Not the voice inside my head nor the ones outside. My upper body rose from the bench before lazily opening my eyes. I… chose not to look upward, to not meet their eyes as they bore down on me. It’s hard to look at these men when you know how things work in Dusone Way.
I gathered my courage and came face to face with Redvers: the army vet. That’s what he called himself. He did live as a soldier, but he died as one too. Never had the time to be a veteran.
“Ah, finally, old boy! You’re with the living! Er, uh… Well, at least you’re awake. Pretty bad one, wouldn’t you find it. Barely got out of its way.”
I gave him a dry chuckle and looked at the others, none of whom laughed with me. I let my eyes roll to the back of my head and front again as I used Redvers’ large frame as leverage to get to my feet. I dusted off the small particles of dark sand I saw on his shoulder then pushed past the whole group.
“Sorry, I’ve been…” I started. How have I been? Tired, I guess.
“You don’t have to make up an excuse, Jonathan. We know all too well, it’s not easy walking these empty streets. Especially in one of those storms.” His calm voice washed over me, like the waves did him. Farikou, the most trustworthy of the five of us, stepped towards me, grabbing my upper arm. He whispered looking down at the blackened, brick road. “With all that goes on here, I would try to sleep for eternity as well.” His grip strengthened and his arm shook. I slipped my palm onto his perpetually wet skin. “Thank you…” I said.
Farikou was a man deeper in complexion than I. His abysmal eyes forever bloodshot, his legs and arms forever chained. Stuck to his body by the water that never leaves him is a cream colored, rough-textured cloth that he wrapped around his waist and shoulder in an effort to cover himself. When I asked him upon our first meeting to look into the sun, he asked in return if camaraderie meant something to me. We stared at the white sun together. Nothing came of it. Nothing except the chilling voice of the woman becoming ever so clearer in my head. “Come to me.” She said, but I never went.
He let my arm go and composed himself.
“Ah, ah. We shouldn’t bother too much with Jonathan’s business. He has his reasons.”
“Yes, Farikou we know but… we just wanted to make sure he’s fine.” Saida replied.
I turned away from them, my locks whipping behind me. I kicked a stone off into the distance as I started walking to the west of the city.
“I’m leaving.” I said.

---

[cherrystark]

Take my feedback/first impression with a grain of salt.

Reading this excerpt. I think you're overcomplicating things. As a reader, I pay close attention to a story's timing. I tend to lose interest if my brain thinks the story is going too long. For example:

I coughed, hacking and blubbering, all the while thumping my sternum in hopes of releasing those stubborn particles.

You use three different words here that all mean "coughing", but to various degrees. If your MC lives in a place with frequent dust storms, they would have some protection from the dust.

I also prefer to use "timing" because I think "show, not tell" is pretty vague advice. Something to think about with your descriptions, while they are vivid, do they help or hinder the overall story? Humans don't like to pay attention to things that aren't immediately important, so pausing a story to describe a character in complete detail isn't natural. Humans also like to describe things by feeling and analogy. How a character describes something is a great way to subtly give insight into a character's personality without openly telling us.

Those were just some of my thoughts. Figure out what works best for you. You're the only judge you need to impress.

[justincarbunkle]

So far, I'm getting "quiet experienced traveler has to survive harsh terrain, and is haunted by memories of his partner/lover." Getting classic American Western vibes from this premise. I'm liking Farikou so far, alot you can do with his more comforting personality in contrast to the rest.

[IndigoShirtProd]

Reading this excerpt. I think you're overcomplicating things. As a reader, I pay close attention to a story's timing. I tend to lose interest if my brain thinks the story is going too long.

Yes, I can understand why you'd say that. I do tend to be overly flowery with my descriptions sometimes.

If your MC lives in a place with frequent dust storms, they would have some protection from the dust.

You'd think that, right. The thing is, all of these characters are dead and they only have the clothes on their backs and nothing else. My main character is always under the impression that he won't be there for the next storm so he never prepares for them like he should.

I'll be sure to tone down on some of the descriptions when I get to editing. It's just that I really like them . Thanks for the feedback, I really appreciate it.