A True Short Tale of My Current Life

I was always too smart for my own good; any everyone despised me because of it. Not because I was purely smart, but that I was smart and lazy. On most sunny afternoons you would not find me outside playing some competitive sport or studying. You would most likely find me on the couch with a rather large bowl of ice cream, watching the latest television drama or some old Star Trek re-run.
Most of my peers probably found me vain and difficult. I worried about my grades relentlessly, which made them think that I cared too much about my braincase self-image. I didn’t like authority, and I would fight to my very death to prove that I was right and undeclared as the one who did wrong. Others did not like me because my words were too long, confusing and I spoke too loudly and quickly.
My social group was made up of other “weird” people who usually fit right in with my self-defensive opinions. At sometimes my opinions were “unpleasant” even to them. On most days we would have each other’s backs and dance like crazy at every spare moment.
Singing was my true passion, but I never had a chance to express my gift. The school choir was mediocre at best. It was more like a quartet with a bunch of other people blocking out our sound. Only about 10% of our choir actually sang loudly and clearly, which included me. I was so jealous of all the other middle school choirs, whose sound rang throughout the dim shadows of every corner. Then again their choirs weren’t just an extra musical class for new kids.
When my true intelligence failed me was in the course of true love, when one who I knew and cared for very much, broke away because he thought I was too smart for him. He was too good for me. He was kind, sensitive, generous, and really insightful. He knew everything about animals, from a little ant to a swooping hawk. I was only smart because I figured out things easily and people only thought I was smart because I was the one who always raised her hand during class, or strived for extra-credit. He was quiet but I knew he was meant to be with me.
Things were going truly awkward for me, but then I died and I never had any of my social frivolous worries ever again.

Interesting; at the risk of sounding condescending (not meant), you have both a strong vocabulary and a good turn of expression and phrase for your age. You also don't butcher punctuation. Lovely to see.

I have a few thoughts on this piece: I won't go into too much detail about the mechanics of the piece, since I think that very much depends on what you're aiming to get out of the piece; that's what I want to challenge you on.
Basically, what is this for? Is it a short story, a parable or fable, an extended metaphor, a teaching tool? When you sat down to write it, what did you want the reader to get out of it? This is one of the key questions to consider when sitting down to write something, right up alongside ideas like knowing your audience.

So what do you want people to take away from this? Is it a sense of focusing more on the important things in life? An idea of the importance of love? A critique of socialite society?

My basic problem with this wasn't that it was badly written (it wasn't) or that is was boring, or cliche (also not true) or angsty or dramatic (again, avoided) but rather that I just didn't know where it wanted to take me. My instinct is that you can turn it into some sort of societal commentary, but you just need to first sort out what you want to comment on, then work this story around it as an example.

Anyway, good luck; I think you're showing a lot of potential already.

This was basically written in my own desperation from a traumatic experience on the school bus. It was the same thing every day, "You talk too much,""Get a life.""Try using words that people actually know"...It got really annoying. Then people started to critique my friends and my singing talent. The way I block out their incisive derogatory comments is to sing opera. To sing opera really loud. In a small, crowded space. Oh well now I've written another rant...

Please use more paragraphs! When writing is all squished together like this it makes it really easy to lose your place.

I was always too smart for my own good; any everyone despised me because of it.

Do you mean 'and' instead of 'any'? Because that would make more sense.

You would most likely find me on the couch with a rather large bowl of ice cream, watching the latest television drama or some old Star Trek re-run.

I love this. Partially because that's the way I am too. (I'm on YWS, though. )

Things were going truly awkward for me, but then I died and I never had any of my social frivolous worries ever again.

Haha, this is sudden! It seems like you suddenly got bored with writing this down and decided to kill your narrator. It's funny, but doesn't work.

Your story is nice, and held my attention through out the entire thing. It wasn't too long or two short. Still, it's so passive. I'd like to see what's happening in the narrator's life. Instead of just telling about your friends, let's have a scene with them, complete with dialogue and descriptions. It could be funny or serious, anything works.

I want to know more about your character's love. Did you ever talk to him, etc.?

Good luck! Keep writing.
-Jenna

TotalTrekkie wrote:This was basically written in my own desperation from a traumatic experience on the school bus. It was the same thing every day, "You talk too much,""Get a life.""Try using words that people actually know"...It got really annoying. Then people started to critique my friends and my singing talent. The way I block out their incisive derogatory comments is to sing opera. To sing opera really loud. In a small, crowded space. Oh well now I've written another rant...

So this is a (kinda) real story, with your real feelings in it?

Ofour wrote:So this is a (kinda) real story, with your real feelings in it?

It is exactly based on my real life. I did't die though. Voyager was on and I didn't want to miss it .

The sequal:

My l new life improved. A new semester came. I was able to express myself in Art insted of being yelled at by the PE coach. I scetched and drew, painted and sculpted. He was there again. His presense was taunting me. The art teacher thought we would work well together so she put us next to each other. At the same table. Alone. It was actully good for me. We talked. I learned stuff about him that I never knew. He was vegetarian, he had his own archery range in his back, yard, he had several older step-brothers.
The more I learned about him, the less I was totally head over heels about him. I confessed everything 2 days before valentine's day. We became good friends and everything was going ok. Untill Valentine's day. I felt alone, sad and misrible. I knew he had really liked me before. He told me and he wrote me a love note. I knew that we lost our momentum at the same time so it was okay. I couldn't help feeling like I did the wrong thing.

Today is Valentine's day and I have the phone with me and I'm about
to dial...


(Well now I guess this goes under romantic fiction )

Very good, and very depressing--A good mix.

i only found one error, but i think it might be a typo. Anyways, here it is...

TotalTrekkie wrote: At sometimes my opinions were “unpleasant” even to them.

remove the Extraneous at "At" at the begining of the sentence, it makes more sence, and add a comma after "'unpleasant'" it should end up looking like this...

Sometimes my opinions were “unpleasant,” even to them.

Keep up the good work!!!

~Bard

Arrg...I can relate. Usually most people stick there fingers in their ears and say "I'm not listening until you speak English" when I talk. It did seema little self-belittling, though.

Poof! Romance, et al. Where is this going to go zigackerly? As in, is there going to be Sequels 1, 2, 3 and 4?

-ST

-coughcoughNavelGazingcoughcough-

This was a random piece. I liked it. But I had no idea where it was going. Maybe you should try and make that more clear in future.
Also, there was one or two typos I noticed. You might want to check them out and fix them up.

It's a nice little tale. By the way, I like singing too , and i am also in the school choir. But my choir was OK, the students sang qutie well. I can relate to you quite well.
Do you communicate properly with your love?
Anyway, keep on writing, you have talent

It's a nice little tale. By the way, I like singing too , and i am also in the school choir. But my choir was OK, the students sang qutie well. I can relate to you quite well.
Do you communicate properly with your love?
Anyway, keep on writing, you have talent