Delta: A Spy Novel by vb123321 on Wattpad

Blurb

Gunshots. Karate moves. Flipping through languages so fast that my brain struggled to catch up. For six years, these had been as familiar to me as a school bell or sound of a teacher's voice might be to any other kid. At sixteen, I had seen more death than I cared to talk about. But what could I say? As part of America's little-known espionage agency Delta, that was what I was accustomed to.

But I couldn't have known that things were about to change. A drug dealer, working undercover in France. People from my past, popping up in the most unexpected places. And the boy with the blue eyes, who could be completely for me or utterly against me, depending on his mood.

This was one assignment that would stay with me forever. But, of course, I didn't know that as I headed into...Hell.

Welcome to Delta. Now that you're here, good luck getting out.

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Original (First 500)

Shooting ranges had always fascinated me. Call it creepy for a sixteen-year-old to say that, but it was true. Something about holding the cold metal of the gun, combined with the adrenaline as the bullet explodes from the barrel, not to mention the satisfaction received if it hits a target -- it all added up to be one amazing time.

It was also a great way to get things off my mind. This was the sole purpose I had had in mind as I entered a private range, tipping the bored-looking attendant a bright smile to assure him that I wasn't about to commit a homicide. Sliding the gun I had been issued out of my jeans pocket, I checked the magazine and then leaned against the wall, breathing out through my nose. As fun as it was, any time I was in a firing range, I had to mentally prepare myself, because my imagination tended to go overboard when alone in a cold, quiet room, with a gun in hand. 

Something about it freaked me out. I couldn't understand why I was able to shoot men straight through the heart in the heat of adrenaline-boosted field work, but once inside that room, my heartbeat sped up more quickly than if I had been confronted with a KGB agent armed to the teeth.

Once the psychological part was over and I had entered what was generally referred to as the Arctic Zone -- because once inside, all emotion ceased, and it was just you and the gun -- I stepped forward, drawing my gun up in front of me. My finger caressed the smooth metal, tucking itself under the trigger as I fixed my eyes on the target, which stood about seventy-five meters away.

Exhaling again, I closed one eye, sighting down the barrel and taking a little more time than necessary. Giving my imagination a boost, I pictured the target as a man dressed completely in black, holding a knife against the throat of -- I shook my head in slight irritation. No, memories like that weren't going to help. The man switched to holding a gun pointing at me even as I leveled my own at him. Part of me wished I had asked the attendant to give me man-targets instead of the normal bull's-eye ones.

Concentrate.

What would my early trainers have said if they saw me now? Fire first, and then think. I could almost hear them saying it. Training eleven-year-olds to fire a gun couldn't be an easy job, especially since you knew that one day soon they would be in the field, firing at real targets. It made me grateful to know that I was one of the very few agents Delta, the spy agency that employed me, had.

Breathing out for the third time, I re-leveled my gun at the target, emptying my mind of all thoughts. My gaze completely focused, I snapped off a succession of shots, all of which slammed into the target in a split second. 

My Edit

As fun as it was, something about a firing range freaked me out. At sixteen years old, I was able to shoot grown men straight through the heart, but once inside that room, it was like that paper target was every potential enemy assignment gone wrong in every possible way.

I stepped forward, drawing my gun up in front of me. My finger caressed the smooth metal, tucking itself under the trigger as I fixed my eyes on the target, which stood about seventy-five meters away. It helped to imagine one specific enemy.

I closed one eye, sighting down the barrel. I pictured my arch nemesis, Phoryn Forinman holding a knife to the throat of -- I shook the flashback away. Not helping with the anxiety. Too specific. I tried again, picturing a generic man-in-parka with hood up, shadowing the generic face.

Fire first, then think.

I exhaled, re-leveled my gun at the target, emptying my mind of all thoughts. I snapped off a succession of shots, all of which slammed home. 

(Original word count: ~502→ Edited: ~171)

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Critique

Teenage spies will probably always intrigue me, even though I'm a million years old. It's the last line of the blurb that hooked me, though: "Welcome to Delta. Now that you're here, good luck getting out." Also, if you do blurb math, the character is sixteen and has been a spy for six years, so she started when she was ten. AND at sixteen, she's seen more death than she'd care to talk about. A lot of spy kid stories are pretty lighthearted, so this one already sounds pretty gritty. I'm in.

Setting

The description we get of the setting is that it's a private range, it has a wall, it's cold, and she's using bullet targets instead of man-shaped ones. This is all serviceable, but not particularly interesting. It's hard to tell if she's been to this range before, or not. It's a "private range" but I don't know what that means. Is she on the road, renting, or is it part of the Delta facility?

If all gun ranges all look pretty much the same, then emotional context could add some texture to the scene. Is this Astrid's favorite gun range, does it feel like home? Did it used to, but the anxiety she's talking about is a new development that she doesn't know what to do with? If she's on the road, what about her usual range does she miss?

Characterization

We have two characters in this scene, Astrid and the bored-looking attendant. We get no physical description of the attendant, so we don't know if this is a fellow teen or a middle-aged woman flipping through a Seventeen magazine. Astrid is the focus of the scene but something visually interesting about the attendant would make them a person, not piece of furniture. Again, if we've established that this is a home or away firing range, Astrid interacting with her favorite attendant versus one she doesn't like versus a stranger would add some color to the scene. 

I didn't actually include the attendant in my version for a couple of reasons. First, Astrid is supposed to be shooting. If we're already at the point in the story where Astrid is leaning against a wall and taking aim, then mentally returning to the front desk (or whatever) interrupts the scene. That's fine, if there's a reason to. Like, if this scene was about Astrid realizing there was something weird about the new attendant and then ending up in a shooting with that character, this would work. If we feel the need to mention the attendant, then we do it chronologically -- walk in, greet the attendant, get set up, and then go into the private room or whatever (I know nothing about gun ranges). 

The second reason I didn't include the attendant in my version is that the attendant is not a character. We see the attendant again on the way out, and the attendant isn't a character. Again, if we did this chronologically where we walked in, got set up by the attendant, etc. then it would be less jarring to include them, but since the attendant doesn't matter, I would still skip mentioning them. Even as someone who knows absolutely nothing about gun ranges, I still understand that people work there. 

For Astrid's characterization, she's a teen spy, that's it. She doesn't have a single thought about friendship, family, regular school or other human things. This is fine, since it makes narrative sense that if we're at a gun range, we'll be thinking about gun-related things, but contradictions help sell the dimensionality of a character, so it wouldn't have hurt to have her set her Hello Kitty backpack on the ground or something. 

I did think it was an interesting aside that she has more anxiety at a gun range than in real-life shooting situations, but she immediately clocks that it's because of adrenaline, so there's nothing to learn here and we spend too much time on the thought.

Also, Astrid has come to the gun range in order to clear her mind, but we don't get any hint as to what she's trying to clear. There is a moment when she's picturing an enemy to shoot and has to stop an image because it's too specific -- I liked that moment. I wished that it was more specific. In my version, I gave the enemy a made-up name in order to make that moment more specific.

Conflict/Tension

The tension of the story comes from the premise and setting -- a teenage spy at a gun range. But the tension deflates really quickly when we spend 500 words on generic thoughts. A generic range attendant, a generic KGB agent, thinking about generic rather than specific teachers, and too much breathing and steadying oneself as we aim. 

There are a couple of directions that we could take to bring the tension back up. The first is just to keep this character intro as short as possible, which is what I went with, because it was the quickest and easiest option. The second would be to introduce whatever Astrid is stressed out about, the reason she's here to let off steam. Interspersing Astrid shooting with thinking about how her roommate keeps stealing her lip balms and never re-fills the ice trays would be an interesting contrast of serious with silly issues. 

We could also stop and focus on the image that Astrid stops herself from thinking about in this excerpt, the man with the knife to someone's throat. If this became more of a PTSD flashback, then this scene would have huge stakes not just for this scene but for the rest of this story. How is Astrid supposed to continue being a teen spy when the violence is already affecting her so negatively?

An interesting option would be to combine all three -- edit and focus Astrid's inner monologue to her anxiety, her annoying roommate, and her trauma. That would create a layered, dynamic scene that would promise an equally dynamic story. That's a lot to ask from a new author, so it's fully valid to introduce one character at a time and slowly introduce the reader into the world we're creating. We just want to avoid spending too much time in a character's thoughts, especially non-specific ones. 

If we're going to mention teachers, give the teachers names, sharp or warm tones to their voices, and an emotional connection to them -- fear, affection, both? If we're going to mention enemies, make them specific, too. If we meet a career-long nemesis in the first scene via memory or flashback and then meet that character later in the story, we as the reader already having history with that character, which makes the world feel more lived in. If we're going to talk about how we're here to let off steam, let's obsess about why, for a moment. All of these small, details are what would anchor us to the character and make the world feel more dimensional. 

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Final Thoughts:

We have a really interesting premise and a potentially interesting setting (most stories don't start in a gun range). However, when it comes time to explore these things, we're let down by a lack of specificity. The gun range isn't interesting to look at, to feel, or to smell. And the main character's inner dialogue skims the surface of a lot of interesting thoughts, without landing on anything specific.

I will admit that I'm being overly critical here. At the end of the day, I wanted to know what happened next, so I'm still calling this a successful first 500 words.