Jessica: Protection

I’m Jessica Cleave. I’m nine, and this is my story.
It was noon on a hot August day, and two of my three siblings and I sat in our small orphanage bedroom, in Chicago Illinois.
“Jess, plug in the fan,” ordered my eleven year old sister Grace Cleave. She struggled to turn around in the recliner and push me out of the space next to her.
I began to object, but my sister’s ocean-blue-eyes practically shot lasers at me. Sighing, I stood and relinquished the overstuffed chair to my sister.
“Thanks,” muttered Grace, and settled back into her mane of flowing blue hair. This was her favorite seat, and it had once belonged to our father. Not that any of us had ever met him of course, he died years ago, but she felt that he was with her in some way whenever she sat there. Unfortunately for her, her face was often confronted with my long, tangled mess of jagged blonde hair. I enjoyed the soft blue chair almost as much as Grace did.
“Grant! Uuuuu! Not Fny!” With an enormous heave and not a small amount of water, Grant (my ten year old brother who was now sitting on her) was launched across the floor.
“Graaa-aaace! Why’d you do that!?” His black eyes flashing, he shook out his shaggy jet-black hair, and once he was relatively dry, sent a good-sized ball of anti-matter at the wall above our exuberant sister’s head.
For good reason, Grant hadn’t risked a full out fight with our older and more powerful sister. An entire year at JAP (I didn’t know what this stood for, but I hoped to soon find out) was not something to be laughed at, as Grant well knew. After every summer, the two of them left for a day’s trip via bus, after which they traveled to the school. I’d never been there, because I had yet to discover my power, but with any luck, this fall the Cleave dorm at JAP will house one more pupil, me.
Of course, both of my parents had had powers, and the gene was passed on to all of us. At least, I hoped so. At nine, I was a little late in discovering my power. Of course, that my two older siblings had tried every conceivable method of coaxing it out of me. The battle scars that I sported had warded off quite a few passers by on the street, but I was becoming accustomed to odd looks and unconcealed staring that pelted me every time I left the orphanage.
I remembered all this as I undertook the rather dangerous trek across the room. Water and I had never been the best of friends. Of course, that fact wouldn’t keep Grace from forcing me to plug in the fan. Electricity was too bright for Grant. And Grace, having water running in every possible part of her body, didn’t fair much better. So I picked up the plug, and went to the outlet. As the plug went in, a huge spark came out and hit me in the head.
“Are you okay, Jess?” Grace came running.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I questioned.
“You just got hit in the head by a foot long spark!” Yelled Grace.
“Did I?” I asked, puzzled. I touched my forehead. It wasn’t tender. Hmmm.
“You didn’t feel it?”
“No, but I saw it.” Now I was scared. What did it mean that a variable lightning bolt had entered my head and I had not felt even the slightest fizz?
Grant and Grace had a quick discussion in hushed tones. There were a lot of glances back over their shoulders in my directions and shaking of heads. Finally, they turned around, a worried look on their faces.
“Jess”, there was an edge to Grace’s voice. ”I think you have Electricity”.
“So? That’s great,” I cried. “Why are you so upset? I get to come with you to JAP and study and everyth…” I trailed off. Grace was shaking her head. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“Don’t you get it?” she cried. “I have Water! We have to stay away from each other! And you be have a constant attraction to me!”
Oh. That explained a lot. Already, I felt like there was a magnet buried in the center of my body that was drawing towards her. It was almost unbearable. Ugh. This would complicate things during our frequent fights.

Hi Aliza!

Sorry this was kind of late, but here we go with the review. I just want to mention something about the formatting of this piece. Since it's all mushed together in one big block, it's kind of hard to read. Click edit, and then scroll down below the text box. You should see four options: Default, Poem, Story, and None. Click Story, and it will divide this into paragraphs.

Now, the story itself is a bit of a muck. The first problem is that the pace moves along too quickly. When we're told that these characters have elemental powers, but we're given little insight into it and we don't know how it will play a part in the story. I understand that this isn't stand alone, that there are more parts that you can use to explain the story. However, this the opening, and the opening is your chance to hook readers. Why do they have these powers? If they've had them their whole lives, why do they only discover them later? The problem right now as that you introduce them as normal children and the whole elemental thing comes out of no where, really.

On top of that, not much really happens within this excerpt. So, her and her sister are lying in their orphanage bedroom, and they debate over what powers Jessica has. I don't really see how this exciting in any way or why I should care about Jessica and her sister, because I know so little about them right now. In books where characters learn chilling secrets about themselves, the author often takes the first couple of chapters to introduce the characters and what their word is like, then having them find out their power. If you did this with Jessica, you could have the pressure from her siblings who want her to have another power then the one she'll eventually get. I already see some of that right now, so it would be awesome if you expanded upon that!

Your hook, or first line, of the story isn't very intriguing either. When you first learn to write creatively, you learn not to start, with "Hi, my name is". It's not interesting the slightest and basically is the equivalent of you yelling, "Hi, this story is going to be bad!" There are a number of good hooks that could work in a story, so I'm not going to give any specific advice, but you can try this little exercise: go to the library or the bookstore, and pick out a few books without looking. Read the first sentence and the first sentence only. Then, make note of which ones you wanted to keep reading, and which ones you wanted to put down. Why did the interesting ones hook you? How did the author start off the story?

I think this story could definitely go somewhere. You've got an interesting idea that could definitely be something with a little revision! Remember to keep your characters and their attributes one of your top priorities-they are what makes or breaks a story, after all. Good luck, and PM me if you have any questions! I'll get to your next couple of parts when I finish through the rest of my queue, okay?

-Elinor xo

Hi. I'm ReadySetStay, and I will be reviewing your chapter today.

I tend to do more so *general* overviews, rather than nitpicking...but ah, here we go..

First off, the beginning needs to be a bit more exciting. The problem with this particular opening is that it just doesn't draw a potential reader straight to the novel. Now, the title is just fine. I clicked on this thread simply because of it, so you've done a decent job with that. But, what if a reader were to think, "Why do I care who Jessica Cleave is?", which is very possible. Another thing, if age isn't an important factor, don't bother throwing it in right away. It leaves less mystery to the character.

It was noon on a hot August day, and two of my three siblings and I sat in our small orphanage bedroom, in Chicago Illinois.

This is just a personal idea of mine, and that's to add the word "located" to the phrase "In Chicago, Illinois." Also, there needs to be comma in there just as I did.

“Jess, plug in the fan,” ordered my eleven year old sister Grace Cleave. She struggled to turn around in the recliner and push me out of the space next to her.

Comma after "sister".

I began to object, but my sister’s ocean-blue-eyes practically shot lasers at me. Sighing, I stood and relinquished the overstuffed chair to my sister.

The word "relinquished" seems a bit out of place. Not that it doesn't fit, because it does, but it seems...odd. Perhaps just me though.

“Grant! Uuuuu! Not Fny!” With an enormous heave and not a small amount of water, Grant (my ten year old brother who was now sitting on her) was launched across the floor.

You mean "not funny"?

After this, I didn't find any mistakes. ^.^ As Elinor ((If I may call her that)) said, not *too* much happens in this chapter to be set as a stand-alone. If you were to slice a chapter into parts, such as Stephen King often does, then it would be fine, but a page-long chapter isn't all too common, and in this case doesn't really fit.

Overall, you have nice general idea going, and you should try expanding it more if you haven't done so already.