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Hey guys, I’m recruiting your help for a decision on Amazon Apocalypse. I’m a bit stuck here. It’s supposed to be my next project, but I’m feeling indecisive about some things. I am hoping you guys can vote on some stuff so I can finally get this project moving again in the right direction.

The first thing I need is a second opinion on the best narrative style for the story. I have my own opinions on what’s best, but in general, these are the four I was considering for the book. I rewrote the same upcoming passage four times in four different styles. If you have the time, please check them out and vote to tell me which one resonates with you the most as a reader.

Some of it is fairly similar to what you get from me in Spellheart. Other styles are new. I do want to try a little new stuff since that’s how I improve as a writer, but I also don’t want to write in prose that makes the final product annoying to read.

So, without further ado, here are four sections of text. Read them and vote to tell me which one you like the most, and I’ll use that to inform my decision on what the final prose for Amazon Apocalypse will feel like.


Style 1:

First-person, but very extradiegetic. Carter is telling the story, but it’s very cut and dry. We experience the story from his point of view, but it’s just the facts.

The supply depot came into sight. It was a tall tower of brick covered by an aluminum roof. Flames spouted from the windows and up the chimney as whatever was inside burned.

I picked up the pace, heading for the door with all speed. As I approached, the hot air buffeted my skin.

“Help! Help!” a girl’s voice called out from inside the burning building.

I tugged at the latches on my backpack, dropping them to the ground as I abandoned the dead weight.

My recent boost in strength let me dig my fingers into the old broken bricks. I ignored the heat in my palms and hauled myself arm over arm up to the second-floor window ledge. Once I had a grip there, pulling myself over became a lot easier. The girl’s voice grew louder, and the crackling of fire grew dimmer.

“Help! Help me, someone!” The girl said again. From her sound, she was older than a child but less than a woman. Probably somewhere in her late teens.

I shattered the window and rolled inside in one smooth motion. “I’m here! Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom! Help me, please!” The girl yelled again, and I got a lock on her voice this time.

She was just down the hall with the showerhead in hand, spraying water into the hallway to beat back the encroaching fire. I was surprised she still had running water after all the world had gone through, but she wouldn’t be putting out this building, especially if the fire reached the ammunition down below.

“Come on, I’ve got you!” I yelled. The girl yelped in shock at the sight of a stranger.

“W-who are you?”

“A friend of your fathers. Now hurry, we’ve got to go before this whole place explodes!”

I didn’t waste time waiting for the girl. I grabbed her and tossed her over her shoulder. If she died here, our guest wouldn’t be of any help to us.

I dove towards the window, dropping fifteen yards to the ground. A month ago, that move would have snapped both my legs like twigs, but now I was more worried about making sure the girl wasn’t hurt in the process. From the look of her, she was only level 3.

We smashed into the pavement, and my heels broke it beneath me. A spiderweb of cracks spread out around us, and an instant later, I was running for everything I was worth.

Behind us, a tiny ping sounded out. An instant later, a tremendous explosion followed, and billowing clouds of smoke shot into the air.

I was swept off my feet by the burst of power that followed, and I rolled while shielding the girl with my chest so she wouldn’t hit the pavement face-first.

“Our house!” The girl said, eyes wide with shock.

“It wasn’t going to last much longer, anyway. Come on, your father’s waiting for you.”

Style 2:

The opposite of the previous style and much more intradiegetic. Not quite to the realm of an unreliable narrator, but somewhere closer.

Everything I knew about brick and metal told me that it didn’t normally burn, which made the building ahead of me all the more striking. Brick walls and a metal roof? That had to be the place our new guest told me about.

The fact that it was on fire meant the supplies he’d promised me were already unsalvagable. That meant the only thing left was—

My heart skipped a beat when I remembered the other item on his list. His daughter.

As if on cue, a call came up from the burning building.

“Help! Help!” a young girl’s voice called. Even through the panic and fear, there was a certain nervous jitter that reminded me of her father, and I knew I had the right place. The only thing left to do was save the girl before her house exploded on me. If the amount of explosives our new friend had promised us were any indication, he had quite a stash in their basement.

The first floor was the place that was on fire. They probably barricaded the stairs, and the goblins weren’t ambitious enough to clear it out of the way, so they just lit the whole place on fire.

Not long ago, I’d been moaning about how I’d wasted my recent three-level ups on strength points because of how much physical labor I’d been doing getting the bunker together. Now, I was grateful for those extra points. Without them, I wouldn’t have been able to dig my fingers between the worn bricks, hauling myself up arm over arm with nothing but those tiny handholds for purchase. Spiderman would have been proud.

“Help! Help me, someone!” The girl said again. I could hear her now. She was young, and ,she would have been considered more a girl than a woman in the old world.

I shattered the window with my balled fist and pulled myself over the second-floor ledge before rolling inside. I found myself in a pink bedroom with plush stuffed animals and a board filled with a Goth Girl Monthly magazine clippings.

“I’m here! Where are you?” I yelled.

“In the bathroom! Help me, please!” She shouted back.

She was just down the hall with her shower head in hand, spraying water into the hallway and down the stairs to beat back the encroaching fire. I was surprised she still had running water after all this planet had been through over the past month. A plumber somewhere deserved a raise, or at the very least a spot in the town I was hoping to build.

A bit of water wasn’t going to hold back the fire for now, though, especially when flames reached the basement and set off the ammunition and explosives there.

“W-who are you?” She asked as I grabbed her and hoisted her over my shoulder.

“A friend of your father’s. Hold on, I’m getting us out of here before this whole place explodes!”

I didn’t waste time waiting for the girl as I ran for the window I’d entered through. If she died here, her father would never help us. With all my stats, I’d probably survive an explosion in the basement, but she sure wouldn’t. From the look of her, she was only level 3.

We smashed into the pavement, and my heels broke the slab beneath me. A spiderweb of cracks spread out around us in all directions, and an instant later, I was running for everything I was worth. I’d like to think I moved like the Flash, but I was closer to Lex Luthor with my current stats, and he wasn’t known for his speed.

Behind us, a tiny ping sounded through the air. An instant later, a tremendous explosion followed, and billowing clouds of smoke shot into the air.

The explosion swept me off my feet, and I rolled while shielding the girl with my body so she wouldn’t hit the pavement face-first. All in all, I thought it was my most heroic moment yet. Too bad the girl’s eyes were closed in fright, and she missed it.

Style 3:

Full-on unreliable narrator. The main character is an inextricable part of the text. The entire story is flavored by his beliefs and experiences.

Holy shit. The brick and metal building I was headed towards was on fire! How the hell does brick and metal burn that well?

My heart turned heavy. There was nothing to salvage here. No ammo, no explosives, and definitely no--

I cut myself short when a cry came from the window. Over the roaring fires around me, I might not have caught it if not for my enhanced perception stat.

“Help! Help!”

The voice was a girl’s, and it sounded young enough to be the daughter I was looking for. Could she really have survived through all that? Damn. The girl was tougher than her old man gave her credit for.

I dropped my pack and ditched the dead weight before springing off my heels and launching myself up to the window ledge. I grabbed the weathered bricks and hauled myself up the last few feet arm over arm before smashing the window in with my forehead and rolling inside. Fuck, that was way cooler in my mind.

I shook the broken glass out of my hair.

“I’m here! Where are you?” I shouted. I looked around. Her room looked about what I’d expect for a teenager growing out of her little girl phase and trying to make a woman out of herself. The walls were still covered in pink wallpaper, but here there were posters of goth chicks on the walls and piles of lacy underwear laying on the floor that told me she was a bit older than her father let on.

“I’m in the bathroom! Help me, please!” The girl yelled again.

I turned the corner to find her with the showerhead in hand. She was spraying water down the hall to beat back the fire roaring up the steps. Clever girl, though she would have been better off making a run for it than trying to save her home. This place was toast. The smoke was already covering the ceiling, and before long, she’d pass out with the shower still in hand.

I figured it was probably better to die from suffocation than from being burned alive, but the best answer definitely had to be neither. So I grabbed the girl and did the smart thing.

“I’ve got you!” I yelled. She yelped in shock at the sight of a stranger.

“W-who are you?” She asked.

“A friend of your fathers. Now hurry, we’ve got to go before this whole place explodes!”

I didn’t waste time waiting for the girl, and to her credit, she didn’t struggle in my arms. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my head, and I felt two mounds pressing into the side of my head. From the way Frank had described his kid, I’d thought she was twelve. But the twin lumps I was feeling said she was closer to nineteen. At least, from the feelings in my groin I hoped she was nineteen.

I dove towards the window, dropping fifteen yards to the ground. Once, when I was a kid, I’d fallen five yards out of a tree and had to wear a cast for a month. Now, I dropped three times that distance and didn’t even feel the sting in my knees.

The pavement shattered around us, and I ran like Mario towards a magic mushroom.

Something popped in the basement behind me, and I winced internally as I realized what was coming. I’d blown enough shit up to know when something was a hair away from the destination.

The explosion swept me off my feet, and I rolled to shield the girl so she wouldn’t hit the pavement face-first. From the look of her, she was only level 3 and wouldn’t survive the impact.

“Our house!” The girl said, eyes wide with shock.

“It wasn’t going to last much longer anyway, with all the goblins about. Come on, your father’s waiting for you.”

Style 4:

Somewhere between style 1, but with introspective lines inserted into the text like how GRRM writes.

This is mostly what I did in the Quest version. The only change I’ve made now is that I’ve written the introspective present tense lines in italics. In the first person, you usually don’t do that with this tool, but last time you guys thought the present tense lines were grammar errors, so I just want to be clear they aren’t a mistake, =P.

The supply depot came into sight. It was a tall tower of brick, protected by an aluminum roof. Flames sprouted from the windows and up the chimney as the structure’s interior burned.

I’ll have to get my hands on some of that goblin cocktail if it can burn a brick and metal building that well.

I wouldn’t be able to salvage the ammo or explosives. With the place burning, I probably couldn’t even go near it.

Then a voice rang through the air, and I remembered Frank had a daughter.

“Help! Help!” a girl’s voice called out from inside the burning building.

I tugged at the latches on my backpack and let it fall to the ground so I could run at full speed.

My new strength stats let me climb up the building arm over arm with nothing but the strength in my fingers.

No amount of weight training or time in the gym would have given me the ability to do this.

I tore open the second-floor window and hauled myself inside, rolling over the broken glass with a wince. I found myself in a girl’s bedroom. There were plush pillows, pink walls, stuffed animals, and a pile of laundry all over the floor.

The girl’s voice grew louder, and I could hear her better of the crackling fire a floor below me.

“Help! Help me, someone!” The girl said again. From the sound of her, she was quite a bit older than Frank let on.

She was just down the hall with a shower head in hand, spraying water down the hallway to beat back the encroaching fire.

She’s still got running water? Some plumber has really been doing his job.

“Come on, I’ve got you!” The girl yelped in shock at the sight of a stranger as I scooped her up into my arms.

“W-who are you?”

“A friend of your father’s. Now hurry, we’ve got to go before this whole place explodes!”

I didn’t waste time letting the girl get settled or protest. I dove towards the window with her over my shoulder, falling fifteen yards to the pavement below. My landing shattered it in a spiderweb all around us.

Behind us, I sensed something to give and knew I had to run. I sprinted as fast as I could, but barely made it a dozen paces before the entire structure lit up in a massive explosion as whatever was in the basement detonated.

The blast swept me off my feet, and I rolled while shielding the girl with my chest so she wouldn’t hit the pavement face-first. I looked her over when we finally came to a stop.

Good. Looks like she’s okay.

“Our house!” The girl said, eyes wide with shock.

“It wasn’t going to last much longer, anyway. Come on, your father’s waiting for you.”

Time to get out of here before those goblins showed their ugly green faces again.

Comments

Anonymous

3 and 4 where both really good 👍🏻

Anonymous

Styles 2 and 3 were good and work well. If the reader is supposed to more uncertain of the narrator before the system apocalypse and after. The 4th style was good but may cause issues with italics being used in other situations, like telepathy, etc.

MarvinKnight

Thanks to everyone who has voted so far! If you could just write a one or two sentence comment to explain your answer, that would also be very helpful.

MarvinKnight

I know a few authors have started using '[' brackets for telepathy instead of quotes, so I'd probably do something like that.

DiabolicalGenius

I liked 3 and 4 the best. The primary goal of your novels is to entertain the reader and immerse them in what's going on. Most of us male readers want to be able to put ourselves in the male lead's place and feel like we're there. The 1st is quite dry and feels more like hearing an account from someone else about what happened rather than being there yourself. 2nd is better but still not quite as fun as the following two. 3 and 4 were both entertaining and immersed you in the scene and I could go with either one, but I voted for 3 in the end. And not just because it was the only one where Carter got boobs pressed against his head. I'm not absolutely clear what I liked about it more, I think it might just be that I like the prose to flow smoothly and it felt like GRRM style present tense thoughts interfered with that. Maybe I just don't like the switching back and forth. That's just my feeling on it.

Spencer Jefferson

I like 2 and 3, and while I liked 4 more than 1 it didn't really hit the mark for me. That being said, I think that it depends on how you want Carter to be as a character. If you want him to be a cold and calculated as well as someone who only helps when he has a use for you chose 1. If your looking for a nerd for video games, music, and comic book go for version 2. And 3 felt like a more casual Carter, and honesty my favorite, who did just enough crazy stuff growing up that he knew when things are going wrong but not to much to actually kill himself. And finally 4... for me I just didn't feel much of a personality with this one but I do love when inner thoughts are italicized in contrast to general observations. These are just my thoughts on this and I'm not really sure if this came out quite the way I'm thinking about it.

Anonymous

Personally a mix of three and four , i do like your style and like ive always been told "dont fix what aint broken". I just want to see this series develop