Fata Morgana

The girl was standing at the edge of the gray and green cliff, her wavy, ginger hair whipping around her head, her eyes an intense shade of blue as she took in the water crashing, breaking in white crests. That was all Ted knew, not who she was, not where she came from, nor why she was standing, about to jump into oblivion.
“No!” he shouted, grabbing the girl’s arm, pulling her away, pushing her to the ground. She said nothing, not even a sound of protest. “Look, where are your parents?” he asked, feeling years older than this girl, who was, what, thirteen? A year younger than him, but he still felt like a lifeguard, or police officer. She stared at him, remaining taciturn, getting herself off the parched, yellow-green grass. “Well, what’s your name?” he asked, attempting to get some information out of her. She stayed silent, as if mute. He turned around, and was about to walk away, when- “Jane,” she murmured, as if the one word, the first name, explained everything.
“Jane... what’s your last name?” Ted asked. She smiled; or, to be precise, the sides of her thin, pale lips twitched upward, as if a real grin was beyond her ability. “Just Jane.” Ted rolled his eyes. “Where are your parents?” he repeated. “Where are yours?” she retorted, surprising Ted; he was starting to think that she couldn’t speak over two words in the same sentence.
Ted’s parents lived only one or two kilometers away from the beach and the cliffs. Ever since he hit thirteen, he was allowed to walk around the beach, and the cliffs, bird watching, observing the gray and white seagulls, the black and red frigate-birds, the shining black cormorants, watching their flight; really, he enjoyed the tranquility, away from his family, away from the neighborhood. But, Ted thought, there was no way she was going to know that; his meditative wandering was entirely his own affair. “My parents let me come here,” he said bluntly, satisfied that he too could be as obscure as this girl, Jane. “Anyway, you haven’t answered my question.” She didn’t reply.
She wore a white T-shirt, a gray cardigan, and a wrinkled, faded blue skirt. Just like the sea, Ted mused. Her hair was kept in a speckled, tawny clasp, the attempted ponytail streaming out, covering her shoulders. He noticed how her eyes were the sky; blue and balmy, gray and stormy, flecks of silver, all at once.
She turned, and walked away from the cliffs, toward the main road back to the village, her stride full of fury. Ted paused, feeling slightly morose, standing at the rim of the cliff, watching the gray-blue waves crash against the rock, wondering who she was, why-
He turned around and ran, wondering whether he could get to her; after all, he’d been berated by his P.E teacher that he couldn’t run to save his life. Well, not specifically run, but physical activities on a whole, much to the embarrassment to his parents. He was, admittedly, unfit, it was true. But he ran as fast as he could, because not only did he want to know why she tried to end it all, he just knew that she would try something again. And something, a feeling, made him want to stop her; to look after her, because she was... fragile. Someone had to help her, and he realized through that same feeling that no one else would.
He got through the copse of trees surrounding the beach, out of breath, to the main road. He should have been able to see a speck in the distance at the very least, but, no. All he could see was the shining black, the onyx shade, of the tarmac. She was nowhere in sight.
Like some kind of mirage or ghost, the girl, Jane, had disappeared.
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This is my first submitted work, which I hope to continue. Sorry that its awful, and only 650 words. Sorry, everyone.

Hi hero! Welcome to YWS, the best website on the internet to learn how to write gooder.

The girl was standing at the edge of the gray and green cliff, her wavy, ginger hair whipping around her head, her eyes an intense shade of blue as she took in the water crashing, breaking in white crests. That was all Ted knew, not who she was, not where she came from, nor why she was standing, about to jump into oblivion.

He can see her eye color from far away? or was he far away? We don't know where he is standing here. All we know is that the girl is standing, ready to jump off the cliff. Does he have to run to get to the girl? or is he just standing there? Tell us!

Also, those two sentences are very long. Maybe split them up, so they don't go on forever and ever and ever...

“Where are yours?” she retorted, surprising Ted; he was starting to think that she couldn’t speak over two words in the same sentence.

Because, omg, she can speak three words in the same sentence! That really doesn't make sense there. If she had spoken more, it would make more sense. But since she didn't, it doesn't make sense.

Ever since he hit thirteen, he was allowed to walk around the beach, and the cliffs, bird watching, observing the gray and white seagulls, the black and red frigate-birds, the shining black cormorants, watching their flight; really, he enjoyed the tranquility, away from his family, away from the neighborhood.

That's only one sentence? That's pretty long, hero. It is, it is. Try breaking it up more.

He noticed how her eyes were the sky; blue and balmy, gray and stormy, flecks of silver, all at once.

You did talk about her eyes in the first paragraph, saying they were an intense color of blue. Here, you say they are many colors. You might want to reword this part right here, so the readers aren't like, Hey, didn't it say before that her eyes were intense blue? Now they are blue, and gray, and stormy, and silver...


M'kay, m'kay. Down with the nit-picks now, darling.


Long sentences ...are what you have a lot of in this story. Seriously. There were some 49 word sentences in there. Which, is very long. Try breaking it up more, like at the commas. Wherever it sounds like a good start to start a new sentence, do that! That way, it doesn't last fooooooooooooorever.


Did you know... ...that you are supposed to start a new paragraph everytime a new person speaks? It's true! It helps clear up lots of confusion in a story and it all makes sense! For example:

story verzion wrote:“Jane... what’s your last name?” Ted asked. She smiled; or, to be precise, the sides of her thin, pale lips twitched upward, as if a real grin was beyond her ability. “Just Jane.” Ted rolled his eyes. “Where are your parents?” he repeated. “Where are yours?” she retorted, surprising Ted; he was starting to think that she couldn’t speak over two words in the same sentence.

Do you see how more than one person is speaking in that paragraph? Jane and Ted are both talking there. Instead of doing that, break it up like this:

The right way wrote:“Jane... what’s your last name?” Ted asked. She smiled; or, to be precise, the sides of her thin, pale lips twitched upward, as if a real grin was beyond her ability.

“Just Jane.” Ted rolled his eyes.

“Where are your parents?” he repeated. “Where are yours?” she retorted, surprising Ted; he was starting to think that she couldn’t speak over two words in the same sentence.

See how much cleaner and easier to read that is?


Characters We actually do not know very much about Jane or Ted. Like with Jane, all we know is that her name is Jane and she wanted to kill herself. Some simple details in the story can help us understand what type of person Jane is. What was her expression on her face? Did it look like she bites her nails? Some simple things like that can help us understand more how Jane is feeling and makes her seem more suicidal.

Now with Ted, I know you gave us a lot of background information. A lot of his history. Instead of all history, why not tell us what he looks like then? What was his face expressions? Did he look nervous around Jane? Was he breathing really hard after he ran? Give us more details about the characters! The characters iare one of the most important things in a story.


The story I love your idea here. The boy trying to stop the girl from jumping off a cliff. She suddenly disappears. I love it, and with a bit of tweaking, it could be a great story. Keep on writing, darling! I want to see more of your work.


Feel free to PM or IM me if you have any questions or comments.

*Lin

Hi there hero!

I won’t get too into detail here as most of the nitpicks have been made but I’ll touch briefly on some things.

Detail
There are some places in the story where you simply give us information that we don’t need. Adding details like that Ted’s parents lived two kilometers away is just not needed in such a compact setting as this. But the details about the bird watching are nice for characterization.

Go through what you’ve written and determine what you need and what you don’t need. What is going to move the story forward and what isn’t.

Characters
Characters are the most important part of any story. Without the characters all we get to do is here about how the wind brushes over some trees or how the sea wears away at the sand. Characters give meaning to a story. So make sure that you have depth in your characters. I would recommend reading Teague’s 5 Tips for Realistic Characters for some assistance.

Because getting the character right in short fiction is all about compacting the most important aspects of the character into an easily digestible form within the story. Too much will distract from the story. Too little will leave the reader feeling disconnected. Balance is key.

In this instance, you’re giving us too much physical description and not enough about what is really going on. Don’t just say that his hair is this color, her eyes are this shape, her hair falls like this. Make sure that if you’re going to describe something, the language is colorful and the metaphors are original. This way, the story is interesting.

*does a lot of rambling about characters*

Anyway, this isn’t bad for your first submission and the story kind of reminds me of the song Self-conclusion by The Spill Canvas though things seem to end just a bit differently. Here’s a link to the song if you’ve never heard it.

Any questions, just PM me. I’m always around to help. Seriously, like, I almost never leave YWS. So yeah, just PM me or drop a line in my guest book and I’ll be sure to answer you.

~lilymoore (remember my name…or else)

Really? I was inspired by the Three Days Grace song, Never Too Late, or at least, my version of the music video.

Also, sorry about the characterization stuff. I'm not too good at description of characters, making them seem too boring. Actually, that's probably why my usual writing stuff is short, because I hack off a lot of the description.

Hi hero! I'm Conrad, and I'll be your reviewer for today.

So, this story didn't really hold a spark for me. It was somewhat listless and flat, and I think the reason for that is that this is a cliched plot at the moment. Everyone is writing about someone committing, or almost committing, suicide, and it has gotten somewhat stale. Consequently, if you do want to explore this particular kind of story, you need to make it really stand out, either with good writing, or with a unique premise.

Your writing is fairly good, though sometimes you seem to lose your voice. By this I mean that your story will be be-popping along just fine, with a nice flow to it, and then there's a short sentence or a run-on and then *poof*, the magic is gone. You need to pay attention to that flow. It's essential to writing a good story. The flow doesn't necessarily have to be the same across the whole story, though that's usually preferred. You just need to make sure each individual paragraph flows, and then step back and make sure that the feel of all the different paragraphs comes together in the end. It's something you really have to sit down and work at, but trust me when I say that when it happens you will know.

As for unique premise, I haven't got one. Maybe she's actually playing a practical joke. Maybe it's a dare. But please at least think about making it something other than, "OMG, life sucks angst angst angst." If you do decide that angst is essential to the story, and it may be that it is, then have the angst actually be about something believable. Don't fall back on the old crutches of "my parents don't understand me" or "my boyfriend doesn't love me". Most of the times, in those situations, the parents might not understand the MC, but they sure understand the world, and there's just a miscommunication between the two lovebirds.

Have her sister be sick, on the verge of dying, and not wanting to even see her. Have her uncle be arrested for shoplifting for the twentieth time, and trying to blame her for it. Have her brother be messed up in the head, and no longer caring about societal norms, so he expresses his undying love for her. It doesn't matter. But step away from stereotypes. Writers cling to them because they're easy to understand, people connect with them easily. But stereotypes fall out, and can make your writing dated. This is something you do not want. Writing is meant to be timeless. If the stereotype is too big, or if there are too many of them, then people can look back and say, "Well, that's just what they thought at the time." Look at Victorian times. Lewis Carroll could get away with half the stuff he did in his personal life just because it was perfectly normal for people of that era. Same with J.M. Barrie. Yes, they were both good authors, but we still give knowing smiles and say, "So quaint, so misguided."

All in all, this story has some good potential. You just need to work on it before it can really come into its own. If you need anything, just PM me. Good job, and good luck.

-Conrad Rice