Work in Progress

The wispy cold winds of the blistery morning ran through his brown hair,
coiling it around the air. His icy blue eyes where wide and dry as they stared ahead at the trees, taking in the image. His chapped lips separated in a small smile before he brought the lean white stick of nicotine up to his lips. He drew in a breath, and then with what seemed to be a sigh; he sent a puff of grey swirling smoke into the icy chill air. He leaned back against the old brick building, his thick black jacket, unzipped and showing a white shirt under it, scraped against it. He slid his legs out, a pair of old tattered jeans protecting his legs as he did so. He planted his right palm, covered with a leather fingerless glove, down onto the cement, supporting his body so he wouldn't topple over. He then lifted his left hand, glove-less, and took another drag.
Looking down at his shoeless feet he chuckled, wiggling his toes.
"Good old school"
He declared as he tossed the remains of the cigarette aside, a grin plastered across his face.
"It hates good old Rafe"
He yawned, stretching his arms high into the air.
He was known for being nocturnal, party all night, sleep all day.
That was just the way the Nineteen year old reject lived.
It was how he had gotten held back so many times, and yet stayed
As happy as an overfed clam.
He closed his eyes, the image of the old brick high school forever imprinted in his
Mind. His lips curled down in disgust, his forehead wrinkled in a scowl. He didn’t want to think about the school he went to; no he wanted to plan his escape, his escape to freedom. He would be away from foster father, his multiple girlfriends, and this tiny old dank overrun school. He could grab himself a car, blue wire goes to red wire, and then make his way out of this dump. Grab himself a nice corvette, no, wait we don’t have any of those in Cheraw, Colorado. You know, that small little town made of dirt that holds up to 203 people, 96 males, and 107 females. Boy do we live it large here!
Just about everyone here is about as white as white can be.
We don’t even have a decent bar in this dump, we’re nothing worth looking at, just a bunch of lonely kids and old farts stuck in a hell hole until they run off to college.
That is if any of us can even afford to do such a thing.
Don’t think anyone around here has ever done it to tell the truth, maybe one old guy who’s dead now did, but he’s history.
I’m not history, I’m the new age, and I’ll make history.
Ya, that’s it, that’s what I’ll do, I’ll leave this place and live it big, go on down to Los Vegas and get rich off poker and slots.
I’ll get away from this dump populated by teens and little kids.
Away from those so called adults who think they are the ones in charge.
Away from it all.
Forever.

Hello there!

Your first paragraph is broken up mid sentence, did you know that? It also has an awful lot of sentences that start with "he". Honestly, it's not that great of a first paragraph. You describe this kid a lot, but why should I care about this kid at all? You're talking about how he is dressed, and what he's doing, and how he looks - it's an infodump. You're just giving a lot of information about someone I don't even know yet.

Why don't you start your story with action? Or, at the least, some kind of conflict. Beginnings are so hard because they need to catch the reader. You need some kind of hook.

Half way through your story you move into the first person. Are you writing in third person or first?

My biggest suggestion would be to find somewhere else to start your story. Honestly, this is boring, but it doesn't have to be. Why not write about the kid running away, instead of jut him thinking about running away? That could have a lot more conflict than it does right now!

Also, a side note: Why doesn't any of your dialogue have punctuation?

"I am talking," he said.

Or: "I am talking." or "I am talking?"

You need to punctuate it.

Good luck! If you have any questions feel free to message me.

Suzanne wrote:Hello there!

Your first paragraph is broken up mid sentence, did you know that? It also has an awful lot of sentences that start with "he". Honestly, it's not that great of a first paragraph. You describe this kid a lot, but why should I care about this kid at all? You're talking about how he is dressed, and what he's doing, and how he looks - it's an infodump. You're just giving a lot of information about someone I don't even know yet.

Why don't you start your story with action? Or, at the least, some kind of conflict. Beginnings are so hard because they need to catch the reader. You need some kind of hook.

Half way through your story you move into the first person. Are you writing in third person or first?

My biggest suggestion would be to find somewhere else to start your story. Honestly, this is boring, but it doesn't have to be. Why not write about the kid running away, instead of jut him thinking about running away? That could have a lot more conflict than it does right now!

Also, a side note: Why doesn't any of your dialogue have punctuation?

"I am talking," he said.

Or: "I am talking." or "I am talking?"

You need to punctuate it.

Good luck! If you have any questions feel free to message me.

Thanks for the advice!
I'll be sure to edit it.
It kind of started out as an intro for a character on
a roleplay, and then I was twiddling with it until I found myself here.

Hello!
This story is good, but you need to change a couple things.

The wispy, cold winds of the blistery morning ran through his brown hair,
coiling it around the air. His icy, blue eyes [s]where[/s]were wide and dry as they stared ahead at the trees, taking in the image. His chapped lips separated in a small smile before he brought the lean white stick of nicotine up to his lips. He drew in a breath, and then with what seemed to be a sigh[s];[/s], he sent a puff of grey, swirling smoke into the icy, chill air. He leaned back against the old brick building, andhis thick black jacket, unzipped and showing a white shirt under it, scraped against it. He slid his legs out, a pair of old tattered jeans protecting his legs as he did so. He planted his right palm, covered with a leather fingerless glove, down onto the cement, supporting his body so he wouldn't topple over. He then lifted his left hand, glove-less, and took another drag.

Just remember to put commas where they are necessary.

He was known for being nocturnal[s],[/s]; party all night, sleep all day.

Boy do we live it large here!
Just about everyone here is about as white as white can be.
We don’t even have a decent bar in this dump, we’re nothing worth looking at, just a bunch of lonely kids and old farts stuck in a hell hole until they run off to college.
That is if any of us can even afford to do such a thing.
Don’t think anyone around here has ever done it to tell the truth, maybe one old guy who’s dead now did, but he’s history.
I’m not history, I’m the new age, and I’ll make history.
Ya, that’s it, that’s what I’ll do, I’ll leave this place and live it big, go on down to Los Vegas and get rich off poker and slots.
I’ll get away from this dump populated by teens and little kids.
Away from those so called adults who think they are the ones in charge.
Away from it all.
Forever.

Ok, so you're switching points of views here. First, you start out with third person and then you go into first person. If he's thinking of something, make sure you italicize it.

Otherwise, it's a good start just change a few things. I would love to read more!

-Lindsey

LindseyBrooke wrote:Hello!
This story is good, but you need to change a couple things.

The wispy, cold winds of the blistery morning ran through his brown hair,
coiling it around the air. His icy, blue eyes [s]where[/s]were wide and dry as they stared ahead at the trees, taking in the image. His chapped lips separated in a small smile before he brought the lean white stick of nicotine up to his lips. He drew in a breath, and then with what seemed to be a sigh[s];[/s], he sent a puff of grey, swirling smoke into the icy, chill air. He leaned back against the old brick building, andhis thick black jacket, unzipped and showing a white shirt under it, scraped against it. He slid his legs out, a pair of old tattered jeans protecting his legs as he did so. He planted his right palm, covered with a leather fingerless glove, down onto the cement, supporting his body so he wouldn't topple over. He then lifted his left hand, glove-less, and took another drag.

Just remember to put commas where they are necessary.

He was known for being nocturnal[s],[/s]; party all night, sleep all day.

Boy do we live it large here!
Just about everyone here is about as white as white can be.
We don’t even have a decent bar in this dump, we’re nothing worth looking at, just a bunch of lonely kids and old farts stuck in a hell hole until they run off to college.
That is if any of us can even afford to do such a thing.
Don’t think anyone around here has ever done it to tell the truth, maybe one old guy who’s dead now did, but he’s history.
I’m not history, I’m the new age, and I’ll make history.
Ya, that’s it, that’s what I’ll do, I’ll leave this place and live it big, go on down to Los Vegas and get rich off poker and slots.
I’ll get away from this dump populated by teens and little kids.
Away from those so called adults who think they are the ones in charge.
Away from it all.
Forever.

Ok, so you're switching points of views here. First, you start out with third person and then you go into first person. If he's thinking of something, make sure you italicize it.

Otherwise, it's a good start just change a few things. I would love to read more!

-Lindsey

Oh, ok.
Thanks for pointing that out!
I'll be making some huge changes soon!
And don't worry I will get to writing more in the mean time.
=3