aspiringauthor17 wrote:A gnarled oak tree stood at the peak of a hill. The tree was over a hundred years old, yet it seemed as fresh and new as the pale daylight shining through the clouds every morning. This tall tree had withstood much damage, throughout storms of lightning, hurricanes, and disastrous floods. One might think that this proud tree stood tallest, growing far above all. It once did. This tree was older than the greatly aged village that surrounded the hill, on which it grew. Though it had sturdily withstood centuries of menacing winds and thunder, at times it clung to the hill with the desperation of a man's final hope to live. comma here, otherwise it doesn't really make sense. This tree was at the brink of death.Didn't you say at the beginning that the tree seemed fresh and new? The roots of the oak twirled into the dry ground, grasping onto rabbit warrens, molehills, and deep-growing weeds. In the summer, the tree's rough bark dried out, the sun wearing down the already battered branches. In the fall, the crackling leaves below felt the wightweight? of fallen tree limbs. In the winter, the iced and frosted over tree seemed to sink inch, by inch into the snow crying for a fellow foe to aid it. In the spring, the tree was majestic once again, reflecting light yet also basking in it. But most knew this wondrous tree would not last. One night in the village there was a terrible storm. Villagers fled, bringing children and their most valuable possessions with them. An ancient old man ran to the tree, trying to pull it out of the ground, for it could not fight the menacing winds of the storm.If this tree is over 100 years old, there is no way that an old man could pull it out. It would be way to big to reach around it, and the branches would be too high for him to use them to yank it out. The old man pulled, and pulled, but to no avail. The storm whirled and blew hard. When it finally blewuse another word here other than blew, like maybe when the storm was finally over...etc. over, the old man was spread-eagled on the ground - dead. Maybe say how he died to make it a little more personal. But the tree lived on with sorrow and regret. The villagers never came back, and one morning, a couple of years after the dreadful storm, the tree was split in two halves. A jagged crack ran down the middle. For the village was destroyed, and the tree reflected the state of the village in which it grew.So is the village in two halves? If the village was destroyed, the tree should just die, not break into halves.
Well done. But then near the end I thought you were immortalizing trees. During the storm, I thought you were trying to explain how this tree would still survive. The Lightning Thief might be the coolest book in my opinion, but I wouldn't have given a care if it was called The Crisis, even though it is a crisis. I mean something like Zeus' Missing Bolt might have attracted attention, but not as much as the Lightning Thief. Because whereas you can just say "Oh, it's about Greek gods. I hate historicals." to the first, you can only ask, "Huh? What's that?" about the second. Your title must...
) Take that, Shakespeare... although that title arouses interest!) e.g The Sea of Monster, The Battle of the Labyrinth
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