Have you read the first chapter of The Last King of Faerie? The writing felt a bit clunky. I would love to know your thoughts on the sampler.
Honey, I'm home! I understand we are talking about The Last King of Faerie - Chapters One and Two - Google Docs?
The snippet was made available in 2024. It’s obviously subject to change. But as it is, and as is and has always been very native to Clare, there’s a lot that makes the writing clunky. And this is the clunkiest writing as ever. What I suspected would be the unfortunate fate of the opening chapter, there’s the constant oversharing of every tiny bit of information from the get-go.
The writing keeps stopping to explain instead of getting on with the actual scene the chapter opens with. Also peppering exposition bits here and there never stops. There’s stating the obvious, repeating information twice just in different form, and all the unimaginative ways you could describe the events and actions.
It’s really rough.
"Are we lost?" Drusilla Blackthorn said, peering across the darkened field toward the horizon. "Tell me we're not lost."
Dru is introduced with her full name, but the narrative refers to her as “Dru”, her nickname. Though some characters might call her “Drusilla” from time to time, it’s more consistent instead of jumping back and forth with “Dru” and “Drusilla” (like with Julian/Jules). Though interesting to note, Clare never refers to Clary as “Clarissa” in the narrative. She is not introduced as Clarissa Fray. Others merely call her by her full name here and there. And first time Clary’s official given name is revealed, it’s not until chapter two of City of Bones.
Her roommate Thais frowned at the hand-scrawled map she held in her hand. "I'm not sure. Check your direction rune."
Not a huge issue, but probably will be clear later from the context?
Dru sighed and looked at the inside of her wrist, where she'd applied a True North rune earlier that evening. In the late afternoon, really. Hours ago. Neither she nor Thais had expected this particular activity to take as long as it had.
Conciseness disappears when there’s so much particularness about every little thing. “Neither she nor Thais had expected this to take as long as it had” instead? Also since the “field exercises” is mentioned right after, we can deduce that “this particular activity” is probably some field exercise.
It had sounded simple enough. Usually Dru was delighted when the Shadowhunter Academy students got out of the classroom and did field exercises outside. She didn't mind studying, but she wasn't like her brothers and sisters - every single one of them excelled at memorizing abstract facts: dates, languages, kinds of weapons. Dru liked to see and touch things, to hear stories about them. To understand how they worked. That was how she learned.
I need a fact-check on this, lol. I don’t buy it just offhandedly, because none of the Blackthorns have left me with such an impression. If we spoke of Herondales, sure, because they at least constantly quote things and share their vast knowledge like cultured assholes.
This year, her third at Shadowhunter Academy, she had Downworlder studies, which was split into quarters: vampires, werewolves, warlocks, and faeries.
Redundant as “the Shadowhunter Academy” was already mentioned in the previous paragraph. Instead: On her third year, she had?
They were on faeries now: their history (which Dru liked, as history was always stories) and the various kinds of faerie nobility and traditions (which she liked less). Faeries had a lot of traditions as well as a lot of noble houses and ranks and there was no understanding them; they just had to be memorized.
You have never even given anyone a chance to do so as the knowledge further than this doesn’t exist. This is the first book of the final series, we still know none of them, and this is how you explain your bad worldbuilding?
She and Thais had both been pleasantly surprised to walk into class today and find Luke Garroway, the head of the Academy, there, carrying a stack of maps and instructing them all to get into fighting gear and meet him outside the farmhouse to find out what their assignment was.
City of Heavenly Fire prologue started the same way. First we start in the middle of a scene, but immediately move away from that and go back to explaining the day, the characters, the history, the whatever. Chain of Gold did the same with Lucie.
Do we really need this detail delivered in this boring-ass way?
Dru always liked getting into gear.
Okay, but what about what you’re doing right now? We are getting further and further away from the actual scene taking place. This is supposed to hook us in and instead of doing that, the writing keep meandering about, of course trying to introduce Dru better to the readers, but still. Do we need to know this right now?
There was something about buttoning and zipping herself into the close-fitting black fabric and heavy boots that made her feel a part of all the Shadowhunters who had gone before her.
Instantly waters down the best quote from Secrets of Blackthorn Hall: “Remember that you are of the steel and temper of those who have gone before you.” It was such a bittersweet reminder in the context of the Edwardian era characters being long gone, only their stuff remaining, and the current characters being legacies of them, and Jem and Tessa being able to see all that pass by. Now it’s repeated within shittier prose.
It helped that she'd brought her mother's gear jacket to school with her - she and her mom had been shaped the same, curvier and rounder than most Nephilim - and wearing it made her feel closer to Eleanor.
Is this the first physical description we have of Eleanor?
Thais always looked glamorous in her gear. She was tall and rangy, with long russet-brown hair streaked with gold where the sun had lightened it. She had brown skin and freckles on her nose. Dru often thought they looked like exact opposites - Dru kept her pale skin out of the sun, and her choppy shoulder-length hair was dyed black as ink. Where Thais was slim she was curved; where Thais was tall, Dru had resigned herself to being five foot three forever.
“Dru often thought” → Dru thinks nothing, this is her point of view.
“Where Thais was slim she was curved“ → the writing flows better this way, but we were just told that Dru, like her mother, was curvier and rounder than most Nephilim. Yet this reads like revelation, because the information on Dru is presented last and so is more the point of focus. → “Where she was curved, Thais was slim.”
It’s good to know what the characters look like but what about the action? The particular activity you were doing? Why am I getting a full history of Nothing Imminent here?
In the ways that mattered, though, they matched perfectly. They both loved horror movies, staying up late, sarcastic humor, inside jokes, and everything about learning to be a Shadowhunter. Even the brutal parts, like the bruising training: learning to take punches, to fall without breaking bones, to climb ropes with only the strength of their arms until their bodies went nerveless and they slid to the ground only to do it again a second later.
Instead of gradually showing this or packaging this information into a more fun or inspiring language, you just directly list everything without utilizing an ounce of creativity?
For Dru, training was a way to forget everything that haunted her. For Thais, it was a way to prove herself. She hated failing anything, which was probably why she was scowling so hard right now as she glared around at the unchanging view: dark fields bordered by shadowy hedges, trees spreading black branches against the night sky, the faint moon hanging over the distant hills. Somehow they'd wandered far enough from the farmhouse that it was no longer visible; more worrying, Dru couldn't see - or hear - any of their classmates, either.
Okay, yay, we’re back. And hating “and”. I really do get the meandering of background information, because it does bring the scene back to the present with a segue. I just really wished that the story would actually start without such lengthy introductions.
"Faeries tread lightly on the land," Luke had said when he explained their assignment. "They leave few signs behind, but training can help you spot them. You've been learning those signs these past weeks. Now you're going to go out and spot them."
But right now you’re telling what you are showing. Obviously Luke is explaining their assignment. The tense is indicative of us jumping once again back in time to the earlier time on the same day. Especially since this flashback continues….
"And if we catch a faerie, then what?" This from Mason Hardcastle, generally considered to be the most popular of the third-year boys. He had fine features and always seemed to be wearing a cashmere sweater thrown casually over his shoulders. "Trap it, bring it back?" "You're not hunting faeries," Luke had said. "They've left clues for you to find. You're looking for signs of the Fair Folk, not faeries themselves."
Like so
"What kind of signs?" demanded Paige Ashdown, looking as if she found the whole business tiresome.
Tense changed from past perfect?
"Faeries tend to work with things that already exist in the natural world," piped up Jane Cartwright. Dru had shot her an encouraging smile - she'd always liked Jane, who tended to be shy. "So we want to look for things that seem like they belong in nature, but are unusually beautiful or carefully shaped. And we should handle them carefully."
Tenses keep changing. Also, no comma after "nature".
"That's right," Luke said. He had given them all a measured look. "The local faeries are cooperating with this exercise. Don’t make them sorry they agreed to help." Mason muttered something under his breath, and Paige sniggered. Dru had made a rude gesture at Mason as Luke explained that they were all going to split up into groups of two or three and comb the grounds of the farm - Luke owned more than sixty acres, so it wasn’t a small area - until seven p.m., when they’d have to return. Any signs of faeries they saw were supposed to be noted on the map.
The tenses are all over the place. I also now know that:
→ Mason Hardcastle is generally considered to be the most popular of the third-year boys and lugs around cashmere sweaters → Page Ashdown does not give a fuck about some faerie signs → Jane Cartwright tends to be shy but is knowledgeable on faeries → Mason also doesn’t give a fuck about some faerie signs (or probably faeries either) → Luke owns more than sixty acres of land and that is not a small area, the feudal lord he is
Great.
Dru and Thais didn't need to ask each other; they knew already they'd be a team. Thais had turned around so Dru could shove the map into her backpack, holding the mass of her wavy hair up and out of the way so it wouldn't get caught in the zipper.
Aand we are still recapping the earlier day, explaining every action in detail instead of using more imaginative language. The first sentence is useless because the idea is conveyed by the following action alone.
Mason Hardcastle sauntered up just as Dru finished up with the pack and gave Thais shoulder a pat to let her know she was all set. "Maybe you two should change it up a little," he had said. He lowered his voice. "The three of us are the best here. If we team up, we'll win."
Can the main characters ever NOT be the best? Mason is used as a prop to deliver this degree of skill.
"What, you don't think your friends are the best?" Dru inquired archly, shooting Paige, who was glaring in their direction, a dark look. She’d known Paige back in Los Angeles - the Ashdowns had been friendly with the Blackthorns, though Paige herself had always been unpleasant. She'd mocked Dru for her clothes, her weight, and her enthusiasm for horror movies, and had been even crueler in her attitude toward Ty. She'd never apologized for any of it. No, Dru didn't have a lot of time for Paige Ashdown.
Interestingly no mention of her supporting THE COHORT and fighting alongside them. Also, Ty who?
"They're fine," Mason had drawled. "But you're better."
Fuck off.
"It’s an exercise, Mason, not a contest," said Thais, turning around. "There's no winning." "There's always winning" Mason said, but he hadn't been looking at Thais. He had been looking at Dru. "Come on. Let me help you."
Ugh, this guy. Such a caricature.
Dru zipped her gear jacket up. "Go away, Mason." He had grinned.
Seems you’re undecided on the tense still. I get that throwing “had” at everything is silly and even more so clunky, but maybe don’t write something that has happened before something else that is already taking place in past tense?
"Drusilla," he said. "Don't pretend you're impervious to my charms." Dru shrugged. "But it's true. I'm impervious. I cannot be perved." She had looked at Thais, ignoring Mason's narrow glare. "Should we get going?" Thais winked. "Partiu." Dru had hurried to join the crowd of students leaving the farmhouse by the dirt road that curved through the fields. Thais, beside her, was silent until they'd clambered over a fence and were heading away from the others through waist-high grass. "Mason wants you to be his girlfriend so bad," Thais had said, looking amused. "No. He doesn't." Dru had taken out her stele and was applying runes - True North, Awareness, Clarity, Knowledge.
Oh, lord. What is this to-ing and fro-ing.
"I made out with him at the end of term party last year and the next time I saw him the first thing he said was that it hadn't meant anything." "I know," Thais said, because of course she did. "But just because he said that doesn't mean-"
Exposition makes a stagnant conversation. Characters telling each other things they already know is awkward and breaks immersion.
"Yes, it does." Dru had snorted. "Guys like that - they want to make out with a chubby girl, but they’d never admit to their friends they actually liked her. So he just lurks around, hoping he can drag me off into a closet somwhere for a furtive groping session. Lurk, lurk, lurk. He's like a … a sex crocodile." "A what?" Thais laughed.
Clare had managed to make Mason intentionally completely gross. Good job, now do the same actualization with others, not just the sleezy scumbags and mean girls.
Dru couldn't keep her mouth from twitching into a smile. "Crocodiles lurk underwater, waiting until their prey gets close enough for them to strike. Haven't you seen Rogue Crocodile?" "No one but you has seen Rogue Crocodile." Thais did draw the line at some horror movies, especially the bloodier ones. As far as Dru was concerned, there were no lines to draw. Nothing scared her. Nothing in a movie, anyway. That had all been hours ago, before sunset. Now the moon was a sliver in the sky overhead, and the fields that spread out around them were so dark that even Dru's Night Vision rune wasn't totally dispelling the shadows.
That had all been hours ago, before sunset. → Couldn’t tell because you kept changing the tense like it was the present, then immediately jumping back to past perfect like you don’t know what passing of time is.
the fields that spread out around them were so dark → Yes, this is the third time the fields are told to be dark (though here there’s a quantifier). Also interesting note on the Night Vision rune. Has there been a limitation like that presented before in the series?
The trees overhead whispered eerily in the breeze, making Dru shiver. Not that she was scared, she reminded herself. She was — worried.
Recalling back to my “Not that” tangent.
Where was everyone else? Why couldn't she hear them? Surely the other students were also blundering around the countryside, searching for signs of the Fair Folk? Cairns of stones, circular rings of mushrooms, moss growing in unusual patterns, the odd behavior of animals, especially birds… Luke had said there would be evidence for them to find, but so far they hadn't seen even a single mushroom growing in a suspect way, or a blown dandelion clock. In fact, they'd found sweet FA, as Dru's friend Kit liked to say. He’d been living in England for the past three years and had developed a whole new set of idioms, which Dru enjoyed teasing him about.
At the same time you’re writing about familiar characters, ones featured in various earlier works, but yet feel the need to introduce them again and hurl exposition at me?
She glanced down. The True North rune stood out stark on her wrist. She turned her body, rotating until the rune emitted a tiny spark that hovered in the air for a moment before vanishing. "That way." Dru pointed. "That's north." "All right." Thais squinted at her map. "I think that's this. Powell's Field. After that, we leave Luke's property." She sighed. "I say we check this area out, and if we find nothing, we head back. If we fail this assignment, we fail it." "All right." Dru glanced up at the sky. "I’Il take the west half of the field. You take the east. We can meet in the middle." Thais looked dubious. "Is it a good idea to separate?"
Dru should know better, she is a horror movie fan and has already had suspicions of something going awry.
"There's no danger. We're on Academy grounds, "Dru said. "I'll see you in five."
But you do you.
She tugged gently at a dangling lock of her friend's hair, and headed off into the shadows.
That damn comma.
She hadn't gone far before she started to regret leaving Thais behind. The field wasn't cleared - it was rocky and pitted, and the low heels of her boots caught on the uneven ground. She paused to apply a Surefooted rune, but that didn't help with the brambles that scraped at her as she reached the field's edge, where overgrown hedges ran wild under gnarled oak trees.
It’s not necessarily wrong to use apostrophes with inanimate objects, but sometimes it may sound or look weird, or there’s a set phrase when using this type of possessive seems wrong. Then again, avoiding prepositional phrases can make writing more concise. Stylistically I personally prefer “the edge of the field”.
Dru moved farther into the shadows, keeping an eye out for clusters of four-leaved clovers or signs of faerie circles. The wind had picked up, and it rattled the leaves overhead in a way that sounded uncomfortably like bones clacking together. She was about to throw up her hands and trek back to find Thais when she glimpsed a strange shadow - a wide opening in the trunk of an oak tree. She moved closer. It was an arch-shaped hollow at the base of the tree, surely too symmetrical to be natural. Dru dropped to her knees and peered at it. She could see nothing but darkness, but it was an odd sort of darkness- a darkness that seemed to shift, almost wriggle a bit… Julian would definitely tell me not to do this, she thought, and stuck her head into the hole in the tree.
This is probably in italics with the real deal and just weird with this Google Doc.
It turned out the darkness was peculiarly shallow.
Funny, how in The Beautiful Ajatara Clare makes a rather meta comment about adverbs, but here she still uses them constantly.
Perhaps an inch of blackness, which gave way to an illuminated tunnel inside. A tunnel that sloped gently downward, its walls veined with tree roots, a soft light pulsing from a torch set into the wall. The torchlight had a pale, darting quality, like a will-o'-the-wisp dancing through branches. Faerie light, Dru thought. Her heart was beating rapidly. All she had to do was crawl into the tunnel and retrieve the torch — it was incontrovertible proof of faerie presence. With her hand on the seraph blade at her waist, she inched forward, the dry crunch of meadow grass giving way to packed earth.
Tell it away, captain.
The hole in the tree was narrow, but with a wiggle, she was through, and standing up inside the tunnel. A leaf had caught in her hair; she shook her head impatiently and made her way over to the torch.
Commas and adverbs where we don’t care for them.
It was clearly of faerie workmanship, carved of pale gray stone delicately carved, burning with a smokeless flame. As she reached up for it, the lick of fire flared up, illuminating the tunnel with a momentary daylight glare.
clearly → My favorite word
carved of pale gray stone delicately carved → I do recognize that this is not the finished product nor is this document original one, but good lord, is this one stupid clause. Carved from bullshit it was shittily carved.
The fire dimmed. Luckily Dru's Night Vision rune allowed her to see, clearly enough to make out that the tunnel was suddenly full of movement. Then she heard a sound. An eerie, high-pitched, repetitive sound, like mirthless giggling.
Luckily I’m not an idiot and can recall back that she has a Mark to aid her vision in dark. This is so terrible. Then this happened, then this happened, then this happened—all without any creative language!!!
The hair rose on the back of her neck. She wrenched the flickering torch free of the wall and backed up toward the tunnel entrance. But there didn't seem to be a tunnel entrance anymore. The underground corridor stretched away behind her, the walls bulging with roots and vines. There was no sign of an archway leading out into the night.
How to repeat the same information twice.
Dru couldn't help but hear Julian's voice in her head. The problem, Dru, isn't that you don't know when something is a bad idea. The problem is that you go ahead and do it anyway.
Dru has already thought of Julian, yes. But Thais is her roommate, Luke is the head of the Shadowhunter Academy, Kit is her friend living in England, but Julian is just Julian? Every other familiar character is bestowed an introductory label, so where is Julian’s? What is consistency? And again, Ty who?
She cursed silently, imagining every bad word she could think of and some she was pretty sure she'd just made up. Then she sighed, pressed her back against the wall, and made her way slowly down the tunnel. It had to go somewhere, though she knew it might simply lead her deeper into Faerie. Because she was definitely in Faerie now. She could feel that the air had changed. The way that the air in old cathedrals smelled of cold stone and age, the air here suddenly smelled different, sharp and edged and green, not like a garden but like the cut stems of plants.
This is the most boring way these events unfold. There is nothing mystical or fun about this writing.
There was something strangely familiar about it, though she couldn't imagine why.
Oh, the tease.
Familiar, but also ominous. Things seemed to move in the shadows, and she heard again that strange, childlike giggling. She began to move as silently as she could, away from the laughter, her back against the dirt wall.
Just. A list of things that happen in a sequence. I AM BORED.
But the sound only grew louder. The torch in her hand shook, sending wavering bars of light across the tunnel walls. She heard a sound like rattling, which turned out to be the scrape of a dozen rushing little feet, as she discovered when a clutch of goblins burst out of the shadows a moment later. Dru had seen pictures of goblins before, though she hadn't encountered one in real life. They were even nastier in person. About half her height, with ropy, skeletal little bodies, dressed in filthy rags. Their feet looked like birds' feet, with talon-like toenails; they were bald except for a few strings of white fluff, and their skin was pink and bumpy, like plucked chicken skin. Their eyes were huge and saucery, their teeth jagged, and their noses weren't really there. More like craters in their faces.
Am I dissociating because none of this is interesting. None of this is exciting or thrilling. Ugly goblins? Hooray.
Revolted, Dru wanted to kick out at them, but each one of them carried a weapon - a clever-looking axe, a bronze dagger, a long, serrated blade. They were small, but they certainly outnumbered her. She cursed silently again as they surrounded her, giggling and chattering in high-pitched voices. "Shadowhunter-" "Seen them before, yes I have -" "No y’haven't, Hogface, you'd've told us about it-" "Shut yer mouth, then -" "Looks tasty, it does -" "Let us have a bite, just a bite then, Snaggle -" "Shut up, you lot." The order was barked out by the biggest of the goblins, who wore what looked like the remnants of a human child's overalls.
Yes, please do. This is ridiculous.
Dru tried not to think about the human child whose clothes might have been stolen. Hopefully they'd rooted the overalls out of some trash. The goblin - Snaggle, apparently - leered at Dru. True to his name, he had only one tooth, which was visibly crooked. "Shadowhunter," he hissed. "How unusual, for one of your kind to wander into our realm." Dru raised her chin and did her best to look at him with haughty disdain. She wondered for a moment if she should mention that her brother, Mark, was the consort of the Unseelie King, but since she didn't know if she was in Seelie or Unseelie lands, she realized that might cause more trouble than it solved. "We have a truce," she said, instead. "The Accords forbid you from harming me, or any Shadowhunter." To her dismay, the goblins only chuckled. "Oh, a truce, a truce indeed," Snaggle said. "To honor our truce, should we not break bread together?" From a bag that hung at his side, he pulled out a hunk of what was undeniably bread. A thick chunk of it, with a brown crust, and more than a little grubby. Dru shook her head. "This is not my first faerie rodeo, buddy," she said. "I'm not eating that. Or drinking anything you offer me, either." Snaggle's lips split in an unpleasant grin. "You seem to think you have more choice than you do, mortal girl." He held the bread out to her. Dru jabbed the torch at him. "Get back." Snaggle tossed the bread to the ground. "Seize her," he snarled. "Take her to Mother Hawthorn."
Oh, great. Her. Yay. UGh.
Dru's blood went cold. Mother Hawthorn. She knew the name, knew it meant these were Wild Fae, not bound by the Accords. She saw the weapons flash in the hands of the other goblins, and slid her palm down her side, reaching for her seraph blade - "Stop."
Oh, great. Him. Yay. UGugasdjakl.
The word was like the crack of a whip. It echoed through the tunnel. The goblins froze, staring, and so did Dru, as a figure emerged from the thickest shadows. He was tall and slim, with hair the color of silver and snow. He wore ivory and black, like a chessboard come to life.
Unfortunate and ridiculous simile as now I imagine Ash with checkered clothing. And it is very unbecoming.
His clothes were clearly Faerie workmanship: they had that quality of being both natural and richly luxurious. A black velvet cloak, embroidered with silver thread, soft boots, a silk tunic with mother-of-pearl buttons, open at the throat.
I just love when anything in the series is faerie work, it’s always CLEARLY faerie work. Also previously “faerie” as to workmanship was not capitalized like it is here. Why. Was the previous workmanship just general faerie stuff, and this is Faerie, indicating some major difference? OR. Is it just inconsistency.
He must be fae nobility, Dru thought: his ears were slightly pointed, but he otherwise looked almost human. Only no human was that beautiful, with features so clearly carved, delicate and masculine at the same time. He did not look much older than Dru was, though it was hard to tell age with faeries.
Is there a reason Dru doesn’t recognize Ash? Weird to forget the guy who accosted you with a dagger. Like as if he doesn’t look like Sebastian, or as if Dru already has not met him before and had a hasty setup for their romance already?
He swept a dispassionate look across the clutch of huddled goblins. "I see you are up to your usual troublemaking, Snaggle," he said. "Though I don't know why they don't call you Missing Nose -honestly, that tooth of yours seems like the least of your worries." "My lord Prince," said Snaggle. "We were just -" "I know what you were just," said the faerie prince. (A prince? Dru thought. Though there were a variety of sons of the old Unseelie King running about, if she recalled correctly. Still. What on earth was a prince of Faerie doing here, in some outpost of the Wild Fae?) "And you can abandon the idea. This Shadowhunter is under the protection of my Court now." He flashed a look at Dru. His eyes - they were a deep clear green. Like the sea glass Julian loved. "I suggest you scatter, or face the consequences."
His eyes - they were a deep clear green → Still not ringing any bells?
Julian → Who is this Julian you keep speaking about?
Snaggle hissed. "Mother Hawthorn won't like you threatening us." “Well, I don't much care for Mother Hawthorn," said the stranger. "And I doubt she's as attached to your miserable hides as you seem to think. But I'm perfectly happy to find out."
A fae noble, a prince, A STRANGER? Don’t get carried away with these.
He lifted his hand, his palm open. For a moment, bright flame seemed to run along the edges of his fingers, the pale color of witchlight. Like warlock magic, Dru thought. Surprise after surprise. "Shall we see it she misses you once you're gone?"
seemed to → Yes, but did it?
Dru thought → Dru, quite frankly, thinks too fucking much (this is the fourth time, and I am over her having any thoughts)
It wasn't Snaggle who gave way first. The rest of the goblin clutch squeaked, and fled as one, their taloned toes scraping the ground. A moment later, Snaggle followed them, and they disappeared into the shadows of the tunnels.
Spoiling what happens before it happens.
The faerie boy - faerie prince - watched them go, with an air of faint satisfaction. He turned to Dru, who was still huddled against the wall, clutching her torch.
→ Is “the faerie boy” going to be the new substitute for “the angel boy”?
"Drusilla Blackthorn," he said. "Once again you appear in my life. Always you, out of all the Shadowhunters."
Yeah, haven’t they met like once? Once met and some drawing, I guess. That’s barely always. That’s just twice when Jace, Janus, Clary, and however else has tried to constantly infiltrate his company.
Dru wanted to gape at him. She restrained herself - it was very hard to be afraid of someone who was gaping, and she wanted him to be at least a little afraid of her. A little nervous. She'd take nervous, though he was the least nervous-looking person she’d ever seen in her life. "How do you know my name?" she demanded.
Manufactured and selective amnesia to heighten the tension.
His eyes narrowed. "You must be joking," he said. "You've forgotten? You can't have forgotten." He sounded genuinely surprised. "It was only once, but I'm extremely memorable."
For once I agree. This is stupid that she has forgotten him and HIS WINGGS.
Dru frowned. Something was stirring at the edge of her mind. Some memory, just out of reach. But it was like trying to remember a dream, long after you'd woken up. The shape of a memory was there, but none of the details. "Did Luke put you up to this?" she said. "Is this part of the test?"
How to say the same thing twice.
"Luke?" He sounded puzzled, as if he genuinely didn't know the name.
Isn’t that what “puzzled” directly indicates? "As if" used to deliver the exact reason/meaning, not a hypothetical comparison.
"No one puts me up to anything. Nor did I think there were enough of you Shadowhunters outside Idris to allow such recklessness. A test that demands students enter into the realm of the Wild Fae is assigning them death."
I need more information on how these faerie Courts and lands work because right now the worldbuilding is in shambles, but Clare keeps writing like I know what the hell she means.
Dru knew she ought to be afraid. Faerie royalty were powerful, uncannily so. And she was afraid — she could feel it, like a cold pebble in her belly - but she was also starting to become irritated.
“Ought to be afraid” literally means that she is not even though she should be. So what the hell is this. Her rising irritation doesn’t negate her fear.
She knew she ought to listen to the part of her that was afraid, not the part that was irritated, but in her opinion that just wasn't how irritation worked.
Should’ve just begun with this.
"The assignment," she said, "was just to find a sign of faerie presence near the school. Luke didn't ask me to climb into the hole in the tree. I did that on my own." "Shadowhunters find the oddest things to brag about." His voice was cold music. "I'm getting the sense you don't like Shadowhunters all that much," Dru said. He took a step toward her. The flickering light of the torch played over his face. There was something unusual about him, something not quite entirely faerie. She knew what faerie blood mixed with human blood looked like, knew how they blended, the mortal line softening the icy sharpness of fae beauty. His mouth was full and softly curved, for all that it was set into a hard line. "You Nephilim have too much power," he said, "and turn too easily to darkness. I have seen it happen."
This sounds like Jace in TMI.
“What do you mean you’ve seen it?” Dru looked at him defiantly. “How could you possibly know anything about Shadowhunters? Much less ones who've turned to darkness.” "She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you mean the Nephilim in Idris?" Nothing changed in his gaze; it was as cool and considering as it had been before. "More than that," he said. "I mean -"
Should something have changed? Was that some goal Dru had? Why note this? Also why say it if you immediately describe it remaining the same? How to say the same thing twice.
"Ash!" A man's voice echoed down the corridor. "Ash, where are you?" The prince- Ash - cast a glance over his shoulder.
Clare does this each time a name is introduced. With Meliorn, with Snaggle here, with anyone who becomes “apparently” someone.
For a moment, he looked less like haughty faerie royalty and more like a teenage boy who had been caught borrowing the family car without permission. (Dru had watched a lot of mundane movies, and had formed the idea that this was something that happened constantly.) "Ash," she said, slowly. "I know your name-"
Fiiinally. One of the most irritating and constant things in Clare’s writing is that readers have to wait for the characters to catch up with The Knowledge.
A frown flashed across his face. He caught her lightly by the wrist; the gesture startled Dru so badly that she dropped her torch. It hit the ground and sputtered. She felt him press something into her palm. The dying torch was sending up an odd, sparking light that flecked his green eyes with gold. "Take this," he said. "Proof of faerie presence." He closed her fingers over it. His touch was surprisingly warm, for all he seemed carved out of ice. Ash, Dru thought, Ash, I know you, I know who you are - The flecks of gold in his eyes seemed to fill her vision. Everything turned to shadowy metal, and she could no longer see the tunnel around her, no longer hear the man's voice calling for Ash. All she could see was his eyes, and then even those were gone in the darkness.
But did it? What actually happened? If they didn't fill her vision, then what? → The flecks of gold in his eyes filled her vision.
Dru awoke in a field of grass. It was dawn, and the grass was wet with dew. She sat up, shivering. Her gear had kept out most of the dampness, but her hair was wet and curling, stuck unpleasantly to the back of her neck. She was cold, and her right hand ached.
Usually shivering indicates the reflex when body needs to generate heat in reaction to cold. The ground is wet, Dru is shivering, so a bit redundant to tell she is cold. Though adrenaline for instance also can cause shivering, of course.
She glanced around. The last thing she remembered was walking away from Thais toward a copse of trees. They had been in a field — this field, she realized - but that had been not long after sunset, and this was morning. She could tell by the position of the sun that it had only just risen.
The last thing she remembered was walking away from Thais → WHAT A BORING WAY TO PRESENT HER AMNESIA.
she realized → Dru should also stop realizing things in her own PoV.
She got to her feet, wincing. The pain in her hand again. She looked down and saw that her fingers were clenched around a bright object. She unfolded them slowly. In the center of her palm glowed a brooch in the shape of a scarlet poppy flower.
What is the significance of each physical function being written out separately? What do they highlight? We could skip this entirely. We could, in fact, skip so much of the physical action and utilize more creative writing.
Curling around the blossom were leaves and vines, beautifully enameled in green and white. They were so delicately worked that it seemed impossible any hands had made them, and indeed, Dru knew instantly this was no human work. This was a faerie brooch.
Oh, my fucking god, more distinctive faerie workmanship.
Proof of faerie presence. The words whispered in the back of her mind, and were gone. Uneasiness had taken their place. What on earth had happened? The blank spot in her memory was frightening. Hours she could not account for. And where was Thais? Thais must be incredibly worried.
More frightening than this clunky-ass telling?
Slipping the brooch into her pocket for safekeeping, Dru started to run across the rocky field, clambering over the fence at the far side and dropping down onto the familiar dirt road that she knew would take her back to the farmhouse. The air grew warmer as the sun rose higher in the sky, drying the dampness of her clothes. By the time she was in view of the Academy, her hair had dried into a straggly halo. The sun was directly behind the big old clapboard house, nearly blinding her as she approached. She didn't see the crowd of people spilling out of the back door until she was only a few feet away. She froze, blinking, half wondering if she were dreaming, or having some sort of bizarre vision. The first person out of the door was her brother, Julian, Julian, who was meant to be in London with Emma. He was looking down at his left hand and saying, "The rune, it just activated — she's got to be nearby, somewhere-”
OH, YEAH. That Julian. The Julian, her brother, whose supposed to be in London with… who? EMMA WHO.
Emma came out of the house behind him, and Mark followed. Mark, who was meant to be in Faerie. And then Helen with Dru's sister-in-law, Aline, and after them, Ty, his dark hair a mess, his expression anxious.
Emma who, Helen who, Ty who. Like, I’m being a bitch, but be consistent. Why introduce other familiar characters like you don’t expect readers to know who they are, but then not treat all of them the same? Kit, at least, is not some random person people just forget over the other Blackthorns or Emma.
Emma saw Dru first, and she caught at Julian's shoulder, her eyes widening. "Jules," she said. "She's here." Julian looked up. And a second later he was running, and Dru was swept up in her brother's arms. He held her so tightly she thought she might asphyxiate, but she didn't mind. She could feel his heart hammering, hear the crack in his voice as he said her name over and over. "Dru, Dru, Dru." He pulled back, his hands on her shoulders, his blue-green eyes - so much like her own-searching her face. She knew what he was looking for: bruises, cuts, any signs of harm. "Dru, where were you?" And then the rest of them were surging around them both, everyone hugging and crying indiscriminately except Ty. He stood at a little distance, away from the fray of emotions, but Dru could tell he was glad to see her. Not just glad - relieved. "I'm okay," she said, over and over, as Mark and Emma and Helen seized and hugged her and suddenly Thais was there, and her eyes were red and clearly swollen from crying. She unleashed a torrent of Portuguese before seizing Dru by the hand and bursting into tears. And Luke was there, too, with Jocelyn, looking very grave and serious and as if he'd aged a year since Dru had seen him the night before.
WHO IS JOCELYN. I’m kidding but really can’t get over this. Also why is everyone so worried? This seems way too dramatic.
"Guys," Dru said. "Guys." She waved her hands. (She could still see the marks the faerie brooch had made against her palm, a strange stark reminder of what she had forgotten.) "Okay, I don't understand. What are you all doing here?"
Okay, me neither, but maybe I’m about to find out.
She looked from face to face, all of them clearly bearing the marks of sleepless nights. There were shadows under Julian's eyes. Mark hadn't shaved; there was pale gold stubble on his cheeks. Emma looked exhausted. "We tracked you to the edge of the property," Luke said. " After that, the Tracking broke down. You were gone, Drusilla." "Gone?" Dru said. "But I don't get it. I know I was out all night, but -" "Dru, you weren't just gone all night," Julian said gently. She knew that tone of voice. He was afraid, and trying not to worry her, too. She braced herself for whatever he might say next, but even so, when he spoke it was a shock. "You've been missing for three days."
Okay, yeah, maybe that does warrant some worry. 😂😂
In summary, this is ass. This is—I don’t currently have words for it. It is the same bad quality that I experienced with The Last Hours and every series preceding it. It’s painful and tiresome how bad the writing here is. And it’s not even anything new! This is what it’s been for years. How after dozens of books and thousands of pages this is the level you’re at as an author? I’m not going to touch that second chapter because I, unfortunately, am dead.
This is not surprising or in any way exceptional, but I don’t think I’m going to vibe with this book at all. I inteded to just read this and then give you some summarized thoughts. I really did. But I had too many, too specific thoughts—the usual running commentary, and here we are yet again. Though, if not for nothing, I’m interested in seeing what the final product is and if this sampler has gone through any significant changes.