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Critters demands that the critiques for credit be at least 200 words long (300 if you're going for a MPC weekly award.)
So, in the bulk of one of my last critiques today...
"When they reached the stone steps of the Council Hall--- This journey seems an excellent opportunity to paint the city. What kind of a place do Ellis and all her buds live in? Crowded? Cold? Black stone buildings? All wood and festive gingerbread trim? Open sewers or washing lines? Monorails flung along tracks by headless giants? Churches on every corner? Elf-masked revelers flinging roses carved from fresh pastry? Hungry, sullen crowds held only at malevolent bay by the armed entourage? Trees everywhere? Sacred rhinos rooting in garbage cans? Sidewalk cafes that serve only orange juice and raisin pie? Psycho muggers outta New York loitering on balconies outta New Orleans? Countless ladders leading nowhere, one commemorating every soul that needed a start on its way toward heaven? Sand instead of ashphalt, constantly raked smooth by denim-clad itinerants serving the king's public works scheme? Millwheels everywhere? Shopfronts clearly marked (circle, diamond, star and scythe) to denote the caste of consumer who is permitted (under pain of public lash) within? Twenty-four hours Pornotoriums, Taverns, Barbers and Doctors demonstrating that this land ssociates absolutely no moral significance to adult bodily needs?
Wait...it goes on...( Read more... )
So, in the bulk of one of my last critiques today...
"When they reached the stone steps of the Council Hall--- This journey seems an excellent opportunity to paint the city. What kind of a place do Ellis and all her buds live in? Crowded? Cold? Black stone buildings? All wood and festive gingerbread trim? Open sewers or washing lines? Monorails flung along tracks by headless giants? Churches on every corner? Elf-masked revelers flinging roses carved from fresh pastry? Hungry, sullen crowds held only at malevolent bay by the armed entourage? Trees everywhere? Sacred rhinos rooting in garbage cans? Sidewalk cafes that serve only orange juice and raisin pie? Psycho muggers outta New York loitering on balconies outta New Orleans? Countless ladders leading nowhere, one commemorating every soul that needed a start on its way toward heaven? Sand instead of ashphalt, constantly raked smooth by denim-clad itinerants serving the king's public works scheme? Millwheels everywhere? Shopfronts clearly marked (circle, diamond, star and scythe) to denote the caste of consumer who is permitted (under pain of public lash) within? Twenty-four hours Pornotoriums, Taverns, Barbers and Doctors demonstrating that this land ssociates absolutely no moral significance to adult bodily needs?
Wait...it goes on...( Read more... )
