The text as I received it:
The bike is life.
You're hooked the moment you first lock eyes – the road's never seen such visceral beauty. She runs on the lifeforce of the earth, all its untapped sound and fury borne unto her. Just touch her ceramic skin and feel the fervor within, coiled up in a cluster of spark plugs, screaming to be set free. Rev her engines and you can smell the tar melt as her wheels claw and gnaw until they take hold. The rig shakes with her desire and you won't hold her back; she suffers no fools and makes beginners her bitch. To slide into her is an uneasy truce that can end with brutal ease.Speed's an abstract concept once you're rolling – only go, and go faster. Your breathless adrenaline is her drunken high, your hesitation her savage spite. If you bare your nomad soul to the pursuit of terminal velocity she might offer kinship; anything less isn’t worth the spit from her exhaust. Because out on the highway, where existence is a blur and the only speed bump is to crash and burn, the bike is your fate, your singular truth. Out here the bike fucks you, kid.
- Quite the original topic, I like it!
- Good emotional description
- I’m bored. We are on a bike. No matter how poetic your description, if that’s all that happens in the first 200 words of your novel you’ll lose your readers unless they are bikers identifying with your MC. Please keep in mind that I LOVE bikes and speed and was still bored
- The prose is a bit verbose and does not flow at times. You want to be careful when aiming at literary, every word has to be crafted to mean what you want it to
- For the first few lines I did not know if we were on a motorbike or a bicycle. That detracted a lot from my experience
- I am confused about the voice. If it’s a first person POV who’s the kid? The reader? But wasn’t the MC on a bike? Is he? Because I read a lot of thoughts but do not see anything happening
- Careful with cliché and mixed imagery! Who’s the MC locking eyes with? The bike? Visceral beauty? The roads sees it? Who’s she on line 2? The bike? The road? The visceral beauty? Whose untapped sound and fury? This paragraph is a bit of a mess
- Now, I am not an expert, but I have never heard of ceramic bikes. That might be my ignorance but that would be VERY MUCH NOT SHOCK RESISTANT. If it’s truly ceramic, you might want to explain for the non acolytes
- Where are we? Tar. Funny, I imagined till this point riding up or down a mountain (maybe the visceral beauty?). This took me out of the strained trip I was trying to take and made me realize I had no idea where I was
- Adrenaline is not breathless, the MC is. Again careful with mixed imagery
- Terminal velocity sounds a bit awkward to me
- The image of wheels clawing and gnawing conflicts with speed
MY OVERALL OPINION
In my opinion this needs work. After 200 words I have no idea what the story is about and where it takes place. I really had no idea where you were going, so I set this up in a race track. In my version, I also tried to add a bit more of a hook, keep it or leave it, as usual, it's your baby ^_^
Faster! My thighs become one with the fervor within my bike, coiled up in a cluster of spark plugs, screaming to be set free. I push the throttle forward. I can set you free, Baby.
I barely slow bending at an impossible angle to tame the curve. I pass Fossi and the crowd goes wild. I’m on the lead.
The roaring and yelling echo within me a thousand times, amplified by adrenaline in a drunken high that seems to feed my greedy ride. I can smell the tar as her wheels burn away the track. I’m on fire, she’s on fire.
Than the impossible happens. A pebble, a millisecond, I swerve as Mike screams my name. As the blur around me spins all I can think about is how the heck could I hear his voice in a stadium delirious with people.
Then everything goes black.
I hope this helped ^_^
If you want to submit your work just e-mail me the first 200 words to firstname.lastname@example.org with subject 200 words. Let me know if you want your work anonymous or not :)