Hello, Raven here, to take a look at your Poe story. :) I'll make comments after each paragraph, in blue.
Ed Poe did not seek artistic company. The literati of Boston, though, found his work amusing. His short stories read like nothing ever before experienced. Crime, detection, and grisly tales of horror sprang from his fertile imagination. Ed was a bit odd: taciturn and darkly pre-occupied. He didn't go to church. Rumor had it that Ed Poe occupied himself with the occult. In 1840 Boston society, not that many years from burning witches at the stake, Ed Poe presented a formidable, almost frightening, persona.
Am I right in guessing you did a lot of research for this piece? It feels like it, and whether that's a good or a bad thing depends on whether you want this to read like a history report or like a traditional short story. At the moment, the piece reads like a report. May I suggest, given the emotional and spooky nature of the tale, that a traditional short story feel might be better? Also, you may want to re-think the burning witches thing. The last witch was executed (though not burned) in Prussia in 1811, but the only witches executed in America were at Salem in the 1690s. If you do decide to go for the more short-story feel, this paragraph is very biographical and summary. Why not start with a conversation, or a description of Poe at his desk, scribbling on the "Rue Morgue" etc.? You can establish this is 1840 with subtle details--the oil lamp he's writing by, his fountain pen, his coat, collar, and cravat, you get the idea.
And so Ed became more-or-less sought after as a guest at the smart Boston parties. At first his wife, Virginia, came with him. Pale, thin, thirteen years younger than Ed, she had the vulnerable beauty of the consumptive. She coughed into a lace handkerchief, excusing herself with embarrassment. Virginia tired easily and refrained from smoking and drinking. She did not follow the gossipy, witty, and artistic conversations of the Boston party set. Virginia attended only a few of these Boston affairs and began claiming tiredness, but urged her older husband to "go on alone."
No women smoked in public in 1840, at least no respectable women. At any rate, why tell all this in a single paragraph? Why not describe a party? Don't just tell us Virginia is coughing into her hankie--bring her on and let her cough. :) Let us hear the gossip of the women, see poor Virginia's blushes as they turn away from her and whisper about the age difference between her and Ed (and the fact that they were first cousins--did you know?), see Edgar having a great time while his wife sits silent and miserable in the corner.
She told him, "It's you they want, anyway. You and your stories."
Keep this, just work it in to the party scene I demanded above. :)
Ed met Lenore Avion in the autumn of 1840 at one of the Boston parties. She was the guest of Adam Dinsdale, a wealthy, blocky, married man. Dinsdale owned the Dinsdale Publishing House, though Ed thought he lacked all literary sense. Lady Dinsdale happened to be "taking a holiday on the continent" and Adam felt rather immune from the constraints of his marriage. Lenore captivated all of the party guests with her beauty, grace, and charm. She retained a bit of French accent and laced her speech with an occasional "oui" or other Frenchism. She had blue-black shiny hair, lively blue eyes, and a tiny waist which emphasized her nicely endowed figure.
This is a bit of what I was looking for above, but "Ed met Lenore Avion..." is also a bit summary. How about having Ed come through the door as the butler announces his name, bored because he's anticipating having to spend the whole evening talking to Dinsdale, who is a philistine. Maybe have him annoyed that Virginia stayed home. Then bring on Dinsdale and Lenore. Instead of stating that Adam (who you call Dinsdale through the entire rest of the piece, btw) felt immune from his marriage vows, maybe have him and Ed in conversation where Ed raises an eyebrow about Lenore and Dinsdale laughs about how his wife is out of town. You get the idea.
Dinsdale squired Lenore around the ballroom, shamelessly introducing her as his "escort of the evening." Dinsdale came to Ed and said, "Poe, meet Lenore, my escort of the evening. Lenore, Poe here has written some stories for me. Catching on pretty well, he is, hey Poe?"
I don't think they used the phrase "catching on" in 1840, and "escort" was usually for males; try "quite popular" and "dear freind"?
Ed took Lenore's soft, well-formed hand, with its exquisite nails, and, surprising himself, planted a soft kiss. He managed, "Pleased to meet you, I'm sure, Miss Lenore."
Miss Avion, not her first name, not in 1840.
"Allors. The pleasure is my own. Your work is taking Paris by storm." Lenore pronounced it Pa-REE.
Do you suppose you need to state that she says "Paris" with a French accent when we've already been told she's French?
Lenore captivated Ed Poe from the beginning. He made none too discrete inquiries as to where she would party, or dance or dine and made his own arrangements to be there also. The economic depression that seized the nation did nothing to deter Ed's extravagance of gifts and entertainment bestowed on his new interest. So acute was his obsession that Ed experienced rather more distress than pleasure in her company. Yet he felt he could not bear to be away from her.
Again, this is very summary and narrative for something so important to the story. Why not show him to us, leaving the breakfast table without eating, looking disheveled, bothering his jewler for another, prettier bauble for Lenore? Why not show us Virginia skulking around the house, coughing, growing paler and thinner, watching silently?
Virginia made no mention of Lenore, nor did she voice any complaint as to Ed's increasingly excessive time away from their home. If she suffered, she did so in silence, keeping her own counsel. On Virginia's rare forays into the public scene, Virginia maintained her own dignity, displaying only open affection and attendance to Ed's every need. Some Poe acquaintances may have expressed private criticisms of Virginia for tolerating Ed's obsession with Lenore. But in the end, Virginia's loyalty and carriage won over her critics.
I think you can lose the bit about their freinds, but if you want to keep it, I'd rather have it demonstrated. Perhaps they can run into someone on the street, or she can have a friend over for tea, which is interrupted by Ed bursting in and looking all obsessed.
Nor was Adam Dinsdale immune to the obvious attraction Lenore held for Ed Poe. Dinsdale, committed to Lady Dinsdale for her considerable wealth and social position, regarded Lenore as little more than a dalliance, albeit a pleasant dalliance, indeed. His observations of the spectacle of Ed and Lenore waffled between annoyance and amusement. Lenore, however, found Dinsdale rather more pleasant a companion than the dark, moody, and enigmatic Edgar Allen Poe. So in the competition for her affections Dinsdale found himself more often than not the winner, all the more so because he chose not to compete. Dinsdale simply took that which Lenore offered. Acutely aware of all of this, Ed burned with a consuming jealousy.
Not "immune", I think you mean "oblivious". Again, why summarize all this? Let's have a scene with all three of them in the drawing room--Poe showing his infatuation, Lenore irritated and uncomfortable, Dinsdale somewhat amused. Poe leaves. Lenore complains to Dinsdale about the creepy poet and caresses the buttons of his vest, playing with his watch fob, and as the scene closes you know that he is "taking what Lenore offered".
In the winter of 1840-41 President William H. Harrison, whom the nation desperately hoped would lead it into better economic times, died of pneumonia only 32 days after his inauguration. This death deeply impacted Ed Poe, who was naturally inclined toward the morbid in any event. Ed turned ever more into his study of the occult. And dear Virginia missed none of this.
How about we see Poe reading about the president's death in the paper, then cut to him that night buried in books on witchcraft and the occult. Virginia can find a ouijia board on his desk. Play up the shadows cast by the flickering lamps, the color of the furniture, Edgar's brooding eyes... perhaps his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming. :)
Ed wrote a series of essays on the occult. Unlike his poetry and fiction, these essays waxed pedantic and formulaic. Dinsdale perceived they would have little appeal and would only tarnish the growing reputation of Poe, one of his best-read authors.
"I just can't use these, Poe. No one would read them. Give me some more murder mysteries," Dinsdale told Ed, looking at his watch.
How about giving us a setting for this snip of dialogue? Let us hear what Edgar says, letting us see his disheveled state, and hear his desperation. Let us sense how important the essays are to him.
That rejection and the fact that Lenore had been with Dinsdale several recent nights, provoked Ed to a state of jealous indignation. When he spoke at all, it was only of Dinsdale's weaknesses as an editor, as a friend, and as a man. Ed saw less of Lenore. With a twinge of mixed emotion, Lenore began to discourage Ed's attention. Ed placed the sole blame on Dinsdale for his failing relationship with Lenore.
THIS needs a scene, desperately. Even if you want to summarize some of the other things, you must dramatize this. Perhaps have Lenore leave Edgar standing on the corner as she gets in a carriage and drives away, or perhaps she snubs him at a party. Edgar can look over at Dinsdale, laughing across the room, and begin to think about his essays...
As the nation slowly climbed out of economic depression, Edgar Allen Poe gradually sunk more deeply into a psychic depression of his own. His obsession with Lenore grew with his lengthier absences from her presence. His writing suffered. His acrimony toward Dinsdale occupied ever more of this thoughts. Ed's studies of the occult began to suggest responses targeting his arch-enemy Adam Dinsdale. Ed read prescriptions for various maladies: aches and pains, infections and fevers, disabilities and missing limbs. Then he happened upon a series of incantations to accomplish the transformation of the targeted victim into some other form of life. There were recipes to turn children into toads or adults into frogs. There were formulae to change women into butterflies or roses. Then Ed found a procedure to convert a person into a Raven.
I think this might be more effectively portrayed from Virginia's perspective. Perhaps she's dusting his desk, and finds some notes. He's out, chasing Lenore like he always is, and so, half interested and half apalled, Virginia reads the notes and the book it references and realizes that Edgar is going to turn someone into an animal. You can have her hide behind curtains while Edgar is completing his incantation and make a very spooky scene, Then, he leaves, and she creeps forward, heart hammering, her hatred of Lenore so powerful she can taste it... :)
"I have it," mumbled Ed. "Dinsdale will make a fine Raven."
Listening at the door, Virgina gasped and came to a resolution of her own. "If Dinsdale is gone, Lenore must go with him. I cannot allow her to turn to Edgar in her grief."
See my comment above. :)
Edgar Allen Poe diligently assembled the odd charms, totems, and artifacts needed to execute the spell. He lost his footing and almost fell while obtaining Raven feathers from a nest high in the belfry of a deserted church. He practiced intoning the chant until he could say the whole thing without glancing at the text. Virginia watched, learning.
When the time was right Ed put the charms and totems in order, started a small fire in the fireplace, and began the spell. He said it three times, as specified, and he was sure he got it right. The whole incantation took less than twenty minutes, but Ed was bone tired when he was finished. Exhausted, but confidant, Ed lay down to sleep.
Virginia emerged from the closet where she had observed the Devilish act of her husband. She quickly assembled the materials, added fuel to the small fire, and began the incantations anew. She cast a spell identical to Ed's, except for the name of her victim: Lenore Avion. She finished, coughed into her handkerchief, and retreated to bed with a sigh.
I think "Devilish" should be "devilish", but everything else I'd say about this paragraph is taken care of above. Let us hear Edgar's voice, see the room, see the strange ingredients he's putting together, etc. etc.
For some time Boston society preoccupied itself with the sudden and mysterious disappearance of Adam Dinsdale and Lenore Avion. There was some gossip that the dark hand of Ed Poe somehow contributed to Dinsdale's absence. Similarly, there was unsubstantiated gossip that Lady Dinsdale was instrumental in Lenore's unexplained disappearance. The consensus, however, held that Lenore and Dinsdale made off, together, for parts unknown, but quite possibly France. The police made a cursory investigation. After all, there was no corpus delicti and the disappearance of this de facto couple may well be, if not innocent, at least non-criminal. The police closed the case as a "no crime established."
I think I'd keep this summary, but I wouldn't be so precise about the gossip--just say that when they both disappeared at the same time, Boston society and the police decided they'd run off together.
Lady Dinsdale took to wearing black, as was proper for mourning. She publicly clung to the position that Dinsdale's disappearance was innocent and he would return with a suitable explanation. She instructed her formidable battery of lawyers, however, to "Establish the death of the cad so I may move on."
I think you can lose this paragraph. We've hardly seen Lady Dinsdale--and unless she's real, I don't know that we even need to have her in the story at all--and so I don't end the story going, "but what about poor Lady Dinsdale?"
As for Ed, he was disappointed to take little satisfaction in the disappearance of his adversary, Dinsdale. He had a suspicion that he was somehow responsible for the disappearance of Lenore. Had she been in the zone of the chant when he cast the spell on Dinsdale? Had she witnessed Dinsdale's transformation and been frightened enough to leave the country? At any rate, Ed began to feel a great remorse and heaviness of spirit. He began to seek surcease in his old volumes of sorcery and witchcraft. He began to explore the feasibility of reversing the spell. He would willingly tolerate the return of Dinsdale if only it meant that Lenore would also come back.
"disappointed"? Seems a bit weak for "oh no, my rival is gone but the girl I'm obsessed with is gone too, maybe even with him". Likewise, "began to feel a great remorse..." seems flat. Again, why not show us Edgar, ignoring food and sleep again, scouring his books for a reversal of the spell?
On a bleak and cold December night in 1845, in Boston, Massachusetts, Edgar Allen Poe sat with his volumes, pondering what to do and how to do it. Perhaps he dozed. Perhaps he dreamed. Or perhaps he heard a strange tapping, tapping, some stranger rapping, rapping at his chamber door. Whether in a dream, or merely in a dreamlike state, he rose to investigate the uninvited visitor.
Don't just tell us this, show it to us. Let us see Edgar dozing in his chair with a volume on his lap. Then the lamp flickers, and he jumps. Was that a tap? He looks over at the door, above which sits a bust of Pallas. As he looks, the rap, rapping comes again. Unable to help himself, he gets up, and walks to the door.
And thus was born "The Raven," one of America’s most recognized and best loved poems.
For the love of all that's good, kill this sentence! Leave Edgar with his hand on the doorknob, looking into the dark hallway, and let us hear a whisper from a grating voice: ....nevermore.
All this, of course, assumes that what you wanted to do was scare me. If you want to make this seem like it's from a real history book, then you'll keep the summary style. But I think it would be a shame. :)
Overall, I think you've got a lot of potential here. Just don't be afraid of descriptions and dialogue. There are lots of websites you can visit that will show you the clothing/furniture of the period, and for the dialogue, as long as you make it sound realistic it won't be hard to correct modern expressions.
I'd be happy to take another look at this if you decide to revise.
Thanks,
Raven
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