Young Writers Society

The beginning of a novel or short story, haven't decided yet. Any feedback is appreciated.

She was known for her disappearances. I think it was the rush of uncertainty about whether or not anyone would actually look for her that made her do it. But it was always that same curiosity that brought her back. But this time was different. This time she never came back. I shouldn’t have even cared, considering the fact that I had only had one legitimate conversation with her in my whole life. It was the summer before I was a high school freshman. She lived in my neighborhood, in a picturesque house of green grass, white picket fences, and bird feeders – identical to all the others in this brainwashed cul-de-sac. It was three a.m. on a Sunday and the only thing keeping me up was the whir of my hard drive. I had this intense fascination with the internet. While the rest of the natural, normal world slept, I stayed up jumping from one website to another storing each useless fact into the back of my brain for future use. I was in the middle of learning the origin of pink being associated with girls and blue with boys when I heard the screaming.
“I swear to fucking God if you set foot in this house ever again I will beat you so hard you won’t wake up for a year!” Shit, I thought, this guy was ANGRY. And before I even had time to look out my winder and observe the situation, she came crashing in. She brought my lamp down with her, which broke upon impact.
“Shit!” she muttered as she gathered up the pieces and placed them on my desk. “Sorry, I’ll replace that. Ikea, right?” I nodded with what must have been one of the most confused looks I’ve ever created plastered on my face. And then, right when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, it did. She began to cry. In one second right before my eyes I watched her as her smile faded and was replaced with streams of tears. She let her back slide down my wall as she situated her self in cross-legged position on my floor. I sat in silence as her hands cupped her face and her shoulders rose and fell with each whimper. At this point I guess I should have spoken, at least asked for a reason why she felt it was okay to come barreling through a stranger’s window at three a.m., and especially a stranger who never quite got over his six year old self’s fear of the dark. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was secretly enjoying her company for some reason, even though she clearly sucked at first impressions and small talk. But suddenly it became too silent. Her crying had stopped. She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m Ari. Short for Array,” she said as she pushed an open hand towards mine.
I shook it and muttered, “Troy.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Troy,” she said. She then locked eyes with me. I watched as a buzz of energy and life rushed through her freshly cried eyes. It was as if someone had just turned on the electricity in her body and who I saw before was a mere puppet of her usual, clearly happy, self. “Sorry about that,” she said as she broke eye contact. “You see, my dog just died. Very tragic.” She paced awkwardly around my room picking up various items to inspect. That’s when I realized my jaw was hanging open and I was just staring at her like an idiot.
“Who was that guy yelling after you?” I asked, “he seemed really angry.”
“What?” she responded, quickly whipping around to face me, seemingly flustered. “Dunno what you’re talking about. Must have been Johnny’s dad again over on Cedar Street. Johnny’s made a habit of sneaking out.” I was just about to respond when she continued with, “Alright, well it’s been fun but I really gotta go to bed. See ya later!” And then she was gone.

Hey Boo here!

She was known for her disappearances. I think it was the rush of uncertainty about whether or not anyone would actually look for her that made her do it. But it was always that same curiosity that brought her back. But this time was different. This time she never came back. I shouldn’t have even cared, considering the fact that I had only had one legitimate conversation with her in my whole life. It was the summer before I was a high school freshman. She lived in my neighborhood, in a picturesque house of green grass, white picket fences, and bird feeders – identical to all the others in this brainwashed cul-de-sac.
New subject, New paragraph. Keeps you from having exceedingly long paragraphs no one wants to read.
It was three a.m. on a Sunday and the only thing keeping me up was the whir of my hard drive. I had this intense fascination with the internet. While the rest of the natural, normal world slept, I stayed up jumping from one website to another storing each useless fact into the back of my brain for future use. I was in the middle of learning the origin of pink being associated with girls and blue with boys when I heard the screaming.

“I swear to fucking God if you set foot in this house ever again I will beat you so hard you won’t wake up for a year!” Shit, I thought, this guy was ANGRYThoughts get Italicized . And Try to stay away from starting your sentences with And, But, Nor, For, Or. Stuff like that.before I even had time to look out my winder and observe the situation, she came crashing in. She brought my lamp down with her, which broke upon impact. You use shit a lot. Mix it up, I'm sure not everyone just says shit. I don't. Also I have a problem with this paragraph. Its unrealistic. I girl comes crashing through your window? No one wakes up ? She doesn't get hurt?

“Shit!” she muttered as she gathered up the pieces and placed them on my desk. When glass breaks it creates a series of small and large pieces, also when someone falls on glass they get hurt.“Sorry, I’ll replace that. Ikea, right?” I nodded with what must have been one of the most confused looks I’ve ever created plastered on my face. And then, right when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, it did. She began to cry. In one second right before my eyes I watched her as her smile faded and was replaced with streams of tears. She let her back slide down my wall as she situated her self in cross-legged position on my floor. I sat in silence as her hands cupped her face and her shoulders rose and fell with each whimper. At this point I guess I should have spoken, at least asked for a reason why she felt it was okay to come barreling through a stranger’s window at three a.m., and especially a stranger who never quite got over his six year old self’s fear of the dark. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was secretly enjoying her company for some reason, even though she clearly sucked at first impressions and small talk. But suddenly it became too silent. Her crying had stopped. She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m Ari. Short for Array,” she said as she pushed an open hand towards mine.
You over say she a lot. I understand you don't know her name but try different things. That paragraph is way to long. Split it up, you subject does change. When people see a paragraph that long they usually get turned off to the story.

I shook it and muttered, “Troy.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Troy,” she said. She then locked eyes with me. I watched as a buzz of energy and life rushed through her freshly cried eyes. It was as if someone had just turned on the electricity in her body and who I saw before was a mere puppet of her usual, clearly happy, self. “Sorry about that,” she said as she broke eye contact. “You see, my dog just died. Very tragic.” She paced awkwardly around my room picking up various items to inspect. That’s when I realized my jaw was hanging open and I was just staring at her like an idiot.

“Who was that guy yelling after you?” I asked, “he seemed really angry.”

“What?” she responded, quickly whipping around to face me, seemingly flustered. “Dunno what you’re talking about. Must have been Johnny’s dad again over on Cedar Street. Johnny’s made a habit of sneaking out.” I was just about to respond when she continued with, “Alright, well it’s been fun but I really gotta go to bed. See ya later!” And then she was gone.

I like the way you write!

Few things to take into consideration-
- BE REALISTIC
- If not realistic, explain some how in the story
- Watch out for paragraphs being to long
- Your descriptive, but sometimes not in the right way, but I don't know which since you don't know if its a story or novel
- Grammer

The biggest thing you need to work on is the reality. I mean the age and place seems to conflict with the story. Good start though!
Any questions post on my wall or PM me!

- Boo

This time she never came back.

Maybe rephrase this? It sounds kind of awkward..

It was the summer before I was a high school freshman.

Separate this as a new paragraph.

winder

Do you mean 'window'?

she came crashing in.

I kind of assumed Troy was sitting in his bedroom, probably on the second floor.. If this isn't right you'll have to make it clear otherwise... Where'd this girl come from?!

especially a stranger who never quite got over his six year old self’s fear of the dark.

See first comment..

Hope this helps :]

~ Vari

Hello! Here for a review!

I think it was the rush of uncertainty about whether or not anyone would actually look for her that made her do it.

So this sentance is a little uneven, I mean it doesn't get straight to the point and since it is so early in the story it is important to get to the point in order to draw the reader in. Make it quicker and more to the point.
You start the next two sentences with But which is somewhat repetitive.

this guy was ANGRY

Use italics for emphasis, not caps.

That's an interesting plot, I think you could definitely have something going there. My only critique is that you work on your sentence structure because many of them use long, uneven words that hinder the flow. Work on saying things in a simpler manner so that the reader doesn't get caught up in the specifics. I'm not saying take out all adjectives and interesting verbs but think about the ones you use and make sure they work. I hope this was helpful, keep up the good work!

I think you have a really good story here. I like your writing style and the story is interesting. The only issue that really stood out to me was this part:

And before I even had time to look out my window and observe the situation, she came crashing in. She brought my lamp down with her, which broke upon impact.

I was really confused by this part. It wasn't until I finished reading the story and then came back to edit it that I realized what you were saying. That could have just been me not paying attention or something, but I think you should make it a little clearer. Also, another reason why I think I was so confused, is because it is very unrealistic. I wouldn't assume that she would just come in his window at 3 in the morning, because I don't think anyone would. I think you should find a more realistic way to have them meet. Perhaps he will hear the yelling, and then look out his window watching them, and then she was turn around and catch him watching her. Then maybe she will go and and accuse him of being a creepy stalker or something. I don't know, kind of just made that up while I'm typing : P
Anyways, I really like the story but you have to change that. It just is not realistic.

Besides from that little typo up there that I fixed, I couldn't find any other issues. I would love to read the rest of this
*following you*

Thanks everyone! I took everyones advice and edited it some. I made the parts that I changed bold. Tell me what you think!


She was known for her disappearances. I think it was the rush of uncertainty about whether or not anyone would actually look for her that made her do it. But it was always that same curiosity that brought her back. However this time was different - this time she never came back. I shouldn’t have even cared, considering the fact that I had only had one legitimate conversation with her in my whole life.

It was the summer before I was a high school freshman. She lived in my neighborhood, in a picturesque house of green grass, white picket fences, and bird feeders – identical to all the others in this brainwashed cul-de-sac. It was three a.m. on a Sunday night and the only thing keeping me up was the whir of my hard drive. I had this intense fascination with the internet. While the rest of the natural, normal world slept, I stayed up jumping from one website to another storing each useless fact into the back of my brain for future use. I was in the middle of learning the origin of pink being associated with girls and blue with boys when I heard the screaming.

“I swear to God if you set foot in this house ever again I will beat you so hard you won’t wake up for a year!” Shit, I thought, this guy was angry. I tore my focus away from the glare of the computer screen and got up to observe the situation. I peered out my window only to find myself staring face to face with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Her eyes looked tired and her face worn but it all added to her stunning jagged beauty.

“Can I come in?” she asked, “Your room is the only one on the block with a light on and on the first story.” I nodded with what must have been one of the most confused looks I’ve ever created plastered on my face. She climbed through my window and looked around. “Nice poster,” she remarked with a weak smile as though it was completely normal to have climbed through a stranger’s window at three o’clock in the morning. And then, right when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, it did. She began to cry. In one second right before my eyes I watched her as her smile faded and was replaced with streams of tears. She let her back slide down my wall as she situated her self in cross-legged position on my floor. I sat in silence as her hands cupped her face and her shoulders rose and fell with each whimper.
At this point I guess I should have spoken, at least asked for a reason why this stranger felt it was okay to come into my room at this time of the night. But I didn’t…I couldn’t. I was secretly enjoying her company for some reason, even though she clearly sucked at first impressions and small talk. Then, suddenly it became too silent. Her crying had stopped. She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m Ari. Short for Array,” she said as she pushed an open hand towards mine.

I shook it and muttered, “Troy.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Troy.” This is when our eyes locked. I watched as a buzz of energy and life rushed through her freshly cried eyes. It was as if someone had just turned on the electricity in her body and who I saw before was a mere puppet of her usual, clearly happy, self. “Sorry about that,” she said as the eye contact came to an end. “You see, my dog just died. Very tragic.” She paced awkwardly around my room picking up various items to inspect. That’s when I realized my jaw was hanging open and I was just staring at her like an idiot.
“Who was that guy yelling after you?” I asked, “he seemed really angry.”

“What?” she responded, quickly whipping around to face me, seemingly flustered. “Dunno what you’re talking about. Must have been Johnny’s dad again over on Cedar Street. Johnny’s made a habit of sneaking out.” I was just about to respond when she continued with, “Alright, well it’s been fun but I really gotta go to bed. See ya later!” And then she was gone.

Hey,

Welcome to YWS! I wanted to tell you that if you want to show edits in your writing, instead of posting it as a whole new comment, press the edit button at the top of the work. Also, I really like this story but it's a litttttttle bit cliche in my mind. It reminds me a lot of 'Paper Towns' a novel by John Green, and I'm definitely not saying that you stole the idea because so far they have a few similarities but are obviously different stories. I like this idea but try making it your own, make it original, give me an ending that I wouldn't have guessed. Also, it seems like you're going to be continuing this so maybe post it in the novels section next time, not the short story. About the actual writing so far, it seems very good but the ending seems rushed and it's kind of awkward for this girl Arry to come into his bedroom, stay for five minutes then leave in a rush. It's not realistic. Maybe have the MC be outside looking at the stars or smoking a cigarette or even eating grass, then introduce Arry and have her speak with him for a couple of minutes, while waiting for a friend to pick her up or something. It's a bit weird for her to dash into his house, through his window, chill for less than ten minutes than run away. Hope I helped a bit.

PM me if you have any questions.

~Jas

Hello there, Dance!

Here for my 399th review! *pops confetti*

It was three a.m. on a Sunday night and the only thing keeping me up was the whir of my hard drive.

How would I write it:

"It was three on a Sunday morning and the only thing that kept me up was the whir of my hard drive."

When you said that your character woke up three in the morning and "night" came after it, it didn't make any sense. So the word "night" should be omitted.

I tore my focus away from the glare of the computer screen and got up to observe the situation.

How would I write it:

"I broke my focus off from the computer screen and stood up to observe the situation."

Notice how I tend to change or delete some words, because I think it's much simpler, less awkward and pretty understandable.

I peered out my window only to find myself staring face to face with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Her eyes looked tired and her face worn but it all added to her stunning jagged beauty.

Your descriptions here are weak, it didn't affect me at all. Try to show more of the girl's beauty. And by showing, I mean, how the street light shun her fair face (since you said it was early morning), or in any way that it wouldn't be hard for us to imagine her jagged tired beauty. I mean, how idd her tired eyes and face worn-out affect her beauty?

“Can I come in?” she asked, “Your room is the only one on the block with a light on and on the first story.”

Hmm. This is what I haven't really expected. I was thinking at first that he was just in his bedroom and he got up to look down to know the situation. I think it could've been best if you have elaborated more of the setting.

"one of the most confused looks I’ve ever created plastered on my face."

Kind of awkward to read. I think you should rephrase this one again, or just simply erase "created".

"This is when our eyes locked."

That should be "was" for past tense.

✰✰✰

See the stars above? That is my rating for this story.

First of all, I think what you're offering to us is a very good story idea. I like the way you've portrayed the girl who constantly was disappearing for some strange reasons. However, that is the problem, maybe there's going to be an upcoming second part of this, but if not, this story lacked potential and the ending is quite questionable. "She was know for her disappearance", but your main character hasn't actually given a thought from himself about the girl. What was he really thinking? His reactions weren't clearly explained here. Is she a ghost? supernatural? Things like that should have been supported by your narrator.


It seemed as though the two main characters here were just a cut-out cardboard pasted on a white clean of paper. That might be a bad thing but what you lack are colors. We need more personality here. Conflicts. Thoughts and opinions from your main character. And last but not the least, emotions and reactions. Introduce Troy to us, but it doesn't mean that you have to dump all informations here. Just let us know more about him, especially that he's the center of the story. We need to know his feelings and reactions towards Ari.

The setting is what you need to elaborate more. You could have also managed to focus on Troy's surroundings. He had noticed about the time, but he could have also described the moon, the clouds, or even the cold early morning. How his room was messy and all that. Or if he was living alone or not. Help him visualize the atmosphere for your readers.

One thing that you really need is to SHOW more. You tend to rely on adverbs and adjectives that didn't really help in magnifying you're character's personal views.

Some examples based from your story:

She paced awkwardly around my room picking up various items to inspect.

How do you describe "awkwardly"? It was a bit blurry to understand and visualize.

I watched as a buzz of energy and life rushed through her freshly cried eyes. It was as if someone had just turned on the electricity in her body and who I saw before was a mere puppet of her usual, clearly happy, self.

May I also warn you of your run-on sentences. Like the example above, the second line could be cut into half or three. A good rule of thumb, only use two to three adverbs in a page as much as possible. Adjectives seemed to flood the story, but really, they didn't help much of the story development. And story wise, the ending was quite rushed. Just take a deep breath and take each scenes slowly.

And then she was gone.

How exactly?

Overall, I think this story can be better. I like the idea you have here, but you just need to turn on the windshield before the storm comes any closer. You need to develop this well and don't be in a hurry to finish this so that everything won't look all too fast or all too sudden. Like a banana, you have to let your character peel off the skin, so we can analyze the story well. Let me know if you have any questions.


Keep writing,
Yuri

Hello there! There's a lot I really liked about this like your use of the 'She' which added some mystery and a lot of nice emphasis and your easy, very conversational style of writing. I'm liking the girl's personality so far, but I found Troy to be a bit plain. You've got a good level of sentence variation, could maybe do with some better descriptions but in general, I like. Here's a few bits of advice:

She was known for her disappearances. I think it was the rush of uncertainty about whether or not anyone would actually look for her that made her do it. But it was always that same curiosity that brought her back. However, this time was different - this time she never came back. I shouldn’t have even cared, considering the fact that I had only had one legitimate conversation with her in my whole life. [This last sentence would be more effective if you split it into shorter parts, added some repetition for that sense of inevetibility. For example something like: 'I shouldn't have cared. We only had that one conversation you could call legitimate. It shouldn't have matter at all to me. But it did.']

It was the summer before I was a high school freshman. She lived in my neighborhood, in a picturesque house of green grass, white picket fences, and bird feeders – identical to all the others in this brainwashed cul-de-sac. It was three a.m. on a Sunday night and the only thing keeping me up was the whir of my hard drive. I had this intense fascination with the internet. While the rest of the natural, normal world slept, I stayed up jumping from one website to another storing each useless fact into the back of my brain for future use. [I little bit contradictory here. If the facts are useless, they have no future use.] I was in the middle of learning the origin of pink being associated with girls and blue with boys when I heard the screaming. [Ah but that's actually wrong! It started the other way around. Pink used to be associated with boys and blue for girls. Pink for boys because it was seen as a strong colour and blue for girls because it was dainty and delicate and it was representative of Mary. But anyhow, I digress...]

“Can I come in?” she asked, “Your room is the only one on the block with a light on and on the first story.” I nodded with what must have been one of the most confused looks I’ve ever created plastered on my face. She climbed through my window and looked around. “Nice poster,” she remarked with a weak smile as though it was completely normal to have climbed through a stranger’s window at three o’clock in the morning. And then, right when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, it did. She began to cry. In one second right before my eyes I watched her as her smile faded and was replaced with streams of tears. She let her back slide down my wall as she situated her self herself in a cross-legged position on my floor. I sat in silence as her hands cupped her face and her shoulders rose and fell with each whimper.

Descriptions

It's early yet so don't worry about this too much but some ncie descriptions really help to set the atmosphere of a story. Think about what's in the room, little details that will help your reader picture it, think about how the characters look, how they move, how they speak. What they wear. Think about unique stuff that will help your readers visualise them and relate to them. Like this one novel I read always described the MC's t-shirts which were a range of cartoon characters and I loved that because it added to her funky but slightly childish personality. Describe sounds, pitches and the other senses like taste, touch and smell. They're all very useful and sometimes it's good to make a check-list of them and just make sure that you've used at least three in each section.

There's not much to say as far as plot and such goes at the moment so I'll leave you with that but if there's another part you'd like me to check out, drop me a PM and I'll add it to the list Feel free to ask me any questions you might have and good luck!

Heather xxx