Balema

Well, I've had several tries at this and I hope the latest is an imporvement. What I really want advice on is, should I chew the second bit up a bit and should I just make the first chapter into a prolouge? Any suggestions on how to improve?

Balema Chapter 1 – The Absence


Dear Miss Stizagailii

We have gained knowledge that your daughter has recently disappeared, following the disappearance of your husband three years ago. We are sorry for your losses.
We were wondering if you would come in for an interview that will feature on the nightly news about abduction to raise awareness on this issue. We could even use one-minute advertising space to boost your own search in exchange for this interview.
If you wish to take part in the interview, please contact us at our central Brisbane office by post or email so we can organise a time that is convenient.
May we once again express our sorrow for your loss.

Ross Matthews
Producer
World to You Nightly

Alice Stizagailii looked down at the page, still warm from printing. Dear Miss Stizagailii… so she was a widow now. She looked at the page for a while longer, hand tensing. Spouseless, childless… they were probably going to set her up, thinking she’d killed the people she loved most in any world. Trying to make her fall apart. Maybe confess for something she hadn’t done. All to get higher ratings. They were like jackals.
In an abrupt movement, she turned and kicked at the desk, pushing it over with its draws spilling open and spitting paper. She scrunched the paper up and threw it, as hard as she could, into the metal fire grate leaning into the hole that was the absence of door to the veranda. It curled and blackened too slowly… picking up more pages off the desk, tax papers, late library book charges, newspaper clippings and highlighted leaves ripped from the Yellow Pages, she dumped them on over it, stirring the heat beads with a stick from a gum tree positioned next to the veranda. The leaves caught fire, letting go a strong smell of eucalyptus. Tears streaked down Alice’s face. The smell reminded her of her daughter, walking around the house with socks that didn’t match pulled over feet smothered in Vicks.
She gripped the stick and threw it into the darkness of the night, orange flames streaming after it as it flew in an arch and landed, without a sound, on the dried mud of the driveway, churned by the movements of many wheels. It flickered there, a hazy orange circle of light that revealed the cracks and crevasses to either side of the torch. Alice slumped down in a chair, pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes and stayed like that for a long, long time.







Balema Chapter 2 – On Earth

Tousled trees waved their sunstruck branches at the sun in the early morning of the seventeenth of December. Further away, silver glints left pedestrians blinded as the large silver buildings stretched onto their toes to catch their own bit of sun. Colourful mosaics depicting Australian animals were skipped over by tourists or townspeople, framed on one side by the Brisbane River that reflected yellow as the frequent City Cats zoomed over it. Further away still, on the very outskirts of Brisbane, a spacious two-story home was settled on dry farmland where only a patchwork of different shrubbery and grazing cattle kept the grass from failing completely and turning into a rabid monster.
Samantha Stizagailii was sitting with her chin on the laminated wood of a bench on the second floor of said house, picking the white choc-chip circles from a muesli bar and sorting them into a pile on her hand. Her dark blue eyes watched this from behind the dark lashes that they were outfitted with. All through this slow activity, Sam kept up a stony façade. It was only after, when she held uncontaminated muesli in one hand and half-melted chocolate in the other, that this façade cracked to reveal a neutral one. From there, her top lip reluctantly lifted. Finally, she was unable to keep up her mask and she grinned. Devouring the muesli and carefully licking chocolate from skin, Sam pattered down the stairs and checked that all of the decorations, food and activities for the party were in order; the party that was being held, of course, for Sam’s twelfth birthday.
Being her picky self, and having nothing else to do before her friends arrived, Sam took all of the food off the tallest table and bent under it to adjust the height. When she had done so, she stood up to admire her handiwork; now all of the tables were the same height, mainly because Sam had changed the heights of all three several times to ensure that they came up only to her waist. Unfortunately, that meant that they would come up to the lower back of others her age. Sam sighed and decided that a few chips would make her feel better, stuffing her hand into the bowl. With a devilish smile, she looked around and sneaked a few chocolates, laughing at her silliness. Just at that moment, the sound of rubber wheels bumping and careening over dried mud made her snap into attention. Crunch! Sam took her hand from the chip bowl sheepishly and pushed bigger chips over the ones she’d crushed. Licking flavour from her fingers, she rushed to the front door.
Her best friend Hope was already backing out of the car, holding a sparkly gift bag. Hope shook out her black hair, naturally straightened, and held up a caramel-skinned hand to shield her eyes from the sun.
Not a moment had passed before another car came bumping up the drive, an old ute with three boys squished into two seats, talking enthusiastically about whatever game or movie has caught their fancy recently. Since Sam’s birthday was through the Christmas holidays, she was dying to catch up; she spent most of her time helping her mum around the farm after her dad had disappeared three years ago, so no visits to anywhere had been arranged. Sam would have suggested they hired help, but she knew how her mum felt about the farm; it was their farm, and they would attend to it or not at all.
Next a modest sedan roared up the drive, sending dust twirling behind it. Sam saw Hope catch her scowl and swallow it as another boy stepped out; wet, untidy hair, blonde, fingers lodged into his bright green skinny jean pockets and overly cocky. Out of the other side came a stocky man. He pushed his silver sunglasses up onto the top of his head and waved at Hope; although she showed no such respect to the boy, she waved back at her soon-to-be stepfather. Sam’s mum walked out and greeted the adults, asking whether they’d like a glass of wine as was customary; as one, the adults walked onto the veranda, and commenced ‘adult talk’.
“So, Sam,” Ethan threw himself into a chair. “What is this surprise you’ve been talking about all year?” He held the can of Pasito that Sam had thrown to him away and cracked it open with much show – the others cheered as it didn’t, for once, froth up and spill all over him. He grinned, baring braces.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?” Sam rebuked. She perched herself on the arm of a three-seated couch and cracked open her own drink. The others, taking this as signal to sit, rushed to catapult themselves onto the couch, the last available seat. After a few seconds of elbowing and shoving, Hope was left scowling and standing away from the guys, fists on her hips. Like a gentleman, her soon-to-be step brother John moved away and bowed mockingly. Her expression was like thunder but Hope took the seat. She blushed as she was squished between the tall and blonde Tom and the sunglass-ed and dark-haired Hudson. Sam was in envy; with her dark skin, Hope’s blush didn’t show up as well as it would on her own pale skin.
“’K, kids!” Sam’s mum marched out, her dirty blonde hair flyaway and identical in all except length to her daughter’s, worn Akubra pushed low over her face. She smiled, and the whole room seemed to brighten. “Sam’s surprise is almost ready to go.” Sam’s mum winked, tipped her hat and made to stride out of the room.
“What is the surprise?” asked Ethan, persistent as ever. To Ethan, news or secrets were like oxygen. He needed to have them. But once he had them, they never left him; not until the day he died, which thankfully hadn’t come yet.
Sam’s mum paused. “A rock-climb wall.” she said. The kids’ faces, if possible, brightened further. Sam swelled with pride and gratitude.
Hudson tugged on Sam’s long, blonde braid, demanding attention. Sam tugged his hair in turn, annoyed, to show him he’d gotten it.
“A rock climb wall,” he said. Although it was phrased like a sentence, his tone suggested that it was a question.
“Why not,” Sam shrugged. “I love climbing.” Catching the stricken expression on John’s face, Sam looked at him with askance.
“John is afraid of heights,” Hope drawled. John seemed to slump, but didn’t glare as any other would; instead he sighed and looked up with apologetic eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Sam enthused. “I’ve got hundreds of water balloons filled up…so being a belayer will be just as fun.” She winked. John grinned.
“Oh no,” Hope mock stressed. “Stop giving my step-brother ideas!”
“He’s not your step-brother yet,” Tom pointed out.
“Yes, but we all know how annoying youngsters are, so he will annoy me to he-”
“I’m only younger by a few hours!” John snapped.
“Down, children!” Sam barked. They all looked up at her. “I’m younger than you all except Ethan, how do you think I feel?”
“Oh thanks, just because my feelings don’t matter…” Ethan held up his hands and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, mate, Sam still beats all on the ‘short’ front,” said Tom.
Sam glared.
“Don’t give me the stare of death!” he yelped. He grabbed Hope’s arm and used it to shield his eyes from Sam. Hope shrieked in surprise and elbowed him.
“Stop flirting, I’ve got a rock wall I’m dying to go on,” Sam said.
“Tell me it’s of the bell ringing kind,” Hudson said, leaning forward and pointing an eager finger.
“Of course!” Sam said. Hudson exclaimed in approval and the two slapped hands, showing off their secret handshake. Hope rolled her eyes.
Sam told the others to follow her and led them through the house, out the fly-screen door and under the veranda until she stood in front of the car shed, in front of which a truck rested with a rock-climb wall winched up to the vertical against the back.
“Sam, this is by far the coolest thing you’ve ever done, with maybe the exception of the pie fight.” Hudson stated. The others laughed and sighed blissfully at the memories. John grinned awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, Johnny, we’ll do it next year. We’ll gang up on Hope,” Sam grinned evilly at her best friend. Hope stuck her tongue out and flashed a rude gesture across at Sam.
“Okay, kids, take your shoes off and line up. Two people are allowed on at a time, but the rest of you will be holding them up. We’ve got the exact number today, awesome.” said the instructor, clapping his hands together.
“So two to one ratio?” asked Hudson, looking at the two pulleys. The instructor nodded. “We could send another up and save time, Sam only counts as a half.”
The instructor chuckled in confusion. Sam threw her shoe at Hudson.
As they stood to the side of the Hessian sacks set up under the rock wall, the instructor explained how they were to tie their harnesses up and demonstrated the belayer movements. He went through safety measures, explained to them about the differently coloured artificial rocks and about the ‘fat cow, healthy cow and skinny cow’ – meaning how slack the rope was between the two belayers and likening the curve to a cow’s belly. Soon, they were ready to go. Sam and Hope lined up, helmeted and harnessed. Sam’s mum had fetched the camera and was ready to click away, one hand tilting her hat to shade her face and the other holding the camera at arms length.
“Okay… go!” said the instructor. He was still bewildered over Sam’s determination to climb on the hardest level of rock colour, but he let it be. She was such a little thing, and she had hardly any chance to get to the top, so he told her they could cheat if they wanted. It was her birthday, after all.
Seconds later, though, the instructor was eating his thoughts. Boys were whooping from below, and the little birthday girl was a meter above her friend, without cheating. He shook his head, astounded, but nevertheless impressed.
The artificial rocks were rough against her palms, but in a firm way that boasted security. Sam was just half a meter from the top, and she searched for the rocks in her colour as she reached up, her toes pressed onto the rocks below. She would only just be unable to reach them – damn this shortness! she thought. She hoisted herself up, calculating, and then made a leap for it. She gripped the rock with one hand, and heard an appreciative gasp below her. She blushed furiously, happy for the rock wall as an excuse to hide her face. She scrabbled up, legs working to push her higher. At last, she reached the top, and looked down again to find Hope. She was coming, slowly but surely – Sam decided to wait for her, the roughness of the rocks biting into her hand, leaving indents. She was up so high… but with an uncanny head for heights, Sam waited there, ready to press the button for the bell when Hope was.
Then, Hope was beside her and cheers went up from below. They hi-fived.
“On three?” Sam said. Hope nodded.
“One…”
They poised, ready to slam the red button.
“Two…”
They grinned at each other.
“Three!”
CRACK.

Thanks for reading!

~Durrie

I like this story, and I would be interested to see how Sam dissapeared and what happened to her. But first off, I believe you should make your first part with the letter a prologue instead of chapter one. Since it's later on the timeline than the second part, it would fit better as an audience-catching prologue.

Also, I can see you've got a knack for creating characters. You have great description, but there is such a thing as too much description. I was kind of drowning in all the descriptive, run-on sentances about the way each and every one of Sam's friends looked. You should focus a little more on personality.

The last thing is that the dialogue seemed too advanced for these little tween kids. It sounded more like a group of high school friends. They can tease each other; that's cute. Just make it more whiney and little-kidish. That's prettymuch all I gotta say.

Thanks, jojo!

Comments in red.

Durriedog wrote:Well, I've had several tries at this and I hope the latest is an imporvement. What I really want advice on is, should I chew the second bit up a bit and should I just make the first chapter into a prolouge? Any suggestions on how to improve?

Balema Chapter 1 – The Absence


Dear Miss Stizagailii This is a memorable name, but I'm having trouble pronouncing it. ^^"

We have gained knowledge that your daughter has recently disappeared, following the disappearance of your husband three years ago. The last part of this sentence is kind of dangling. We are sorry for your losses.
We were wondering if you would come in for an interview about abduction that will feature on the nightly news to raise awareness on this issue. We could even use one-minute advertising space to boost your own search in exchange for this interview.
If you wish to take part in the interview, please contact us at our central Brisbane office by post or email so we can organise a time that is convenient.
May we once again express our sorrow for your loss.

Ross Matthews
Producer
World to You Nightly

Alice Stizagailii looked down at the page, still warm from printing. Dear Miss Stizagailii… so she was a widow now. I always thought it'd take at least four or five years before a person was legally declared dead. She looked at the page for a while longer, hand tensing. Spouseless, childless… they were probably going to set her up, thinking she’d killed the people she loved most in any world. That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? Makes her sound paranoid. Trying to make her fall apart. Maybe confess for something she hadn’t done. All to get higher ratings. They were like jackals.
In an abrupt movement, she turned and kicked at the desk, pushing it over with its draws spilling open and spitting paper. She scrunched the paper up and threw it, as hard as she could, into the metal fire grate leaning into the hole that was the absence of door to the veranda. It curled and blackened too slowly… picking up more pages off the desk, tax papers, late library book charges, newspaper clippings and highlighted leaves ripped from the Yellow Pages, she dumped them on over it, stirring the heat beads with a stick from a gum tree positioned next to the veranda. This sentence made me stumble. Revise. The leaves caught fire, letting go a strong smell of eucalyptus. Tears streaked down Alice’s face. The smell reminded her of her daughter, walking around the house with socks that didn’t match pulled over feet smothered in Vicks.
She gripped the stick What stick? and threw it into the darkness of the night, orange flames streaming after it as it flew in an arch and landed, without a sound, on the dried mud of the driveway, churned by the movements of many wheels. It flickered there, a hazy orange circle of light that revealed the cracks and crevasses to either side of the torch. Alice slumped down in a chair, pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes and stayed like that for a long, long time.

This is kind of long, Durrie, so I'll come back and edit this review and crit the next parts when I have more time.

For now, I can say that apart from a little transition bump there, your use of body language was exemplary.

Anyway, cheers!

Sincerely,

Kara

Thank you!!

Back for part 2 of the review.

IT IS FINISHED. XD

Durriedog wrote:
Balema Chapter 2 – On Earth

Tousled trees waved their sunstruck branches at the sun in the early morning of the seventeenth of December. Further away, silver glints left pedestrians blinded as the large silver buildings stretched onto their toes to catch their own bit of sun. Colourful mosaics depicting Australian animals were skipped over by tourists or townspeople, framed on one side by the Brisbane River that reflected yellow as the frequent City Cats zoomed over it. Further away still, on the very outskirts of Brisbane, a spacious two-story home was settled on dry farmland where only a patchwork of different shrubbery and grazing cattle kept the grass from failing completely and turning into a rabid monster. Yes, yes, beautiful but I'm getting bored.

Samantha Stizagailii was sitting with her chin on the laminated wood of a bench on the second floor of said house, picking the white choc-chip circles from a muesli bar and sorting them into a pile on her hand. There is something wrong with this sentence. Her dark blue eyes watched this from behind the dark lashes that they were outfitted with. Sentence tries too hard. Revise. All through this slow activity, Sam kept up a stony façade. It was only after, when she held uncontaminated muesli in one hand and half-melted chocolate in the other, that this façade cracked to reveal a neutral one. ? I'm not quite sure what you mean. I generally think stony is more or less coldly neutral. From there, her top lip reluctantly lifted. This makes it sound like a snarl. Finally, she was unable to keep up her mask and she grinned. Devouring the muesli and carefully licking chocolate from skin, Sam pattered down the stairs and checked that all of the decorations, food and activities for the party were in order; the party that was being held, of course, for Sam’s twelfth birthday.

Being her picky self, and having nothing else to do before her friends arrived, Sam took all of the food off the tallest table and bent under it to adjust the height. When she had done so, she stood up to admire her handiwork; now all of the tables were the same height, mainly because Sam had changed the heights of all three several times to ensure that they came up only to her waist. Unfortunately, that meant that they would come up to the lower back of others her age. Sam sighed and decided that a few chips would make her feel better, stuffing her hand into the bowl. With a devilish smile, she looked around and sneaked a few chocolates, laughing at her silliness. Chips =/= chocolate Just at that moment, the sound of rubber wheels bumping and careening over dried mud made her snap into attention. Mind letting us hear the sound too? Crunch! You mean she crushed them in her hand? Sam took her hand from the chip bowl sheepishly and pushed bigger chips over the ones she’d crushed. Licking flavour from her fingers, she rushed to the front door.
Her best friend Hope was already backing Backing out means she got out backwards. It's kind of awkward in my head. out of the car, holding a sparkly gift bag. Hope shook out her black hair, naturally straightened I think it's just naturally straight, because straightened implies you did something to straighten it out., and held up a caramel-skinned hand The word choice here is questionable. Might want to edit that. to shield her eyes from the sun.
Not a moment had passed before another car came bumping up the drive, an old ute with three boys squished into two seats, talking enthusiastically about whatever game or movie has caught their fancy recently. How does Sam know? Are they talking that loud? Since Sam’s birthday was through the Christmas holidays, she was dying to catch up; she spent most of her time helping her mum around the farm after her dad had disappeared three years ago, so no visits to anywhere had been arranged. Sam would have suggested they hired help, but she knew how her mum felt about the farm; it was their farm, and they would attend to it or not at all.
Next a modest sedan roared up the drive, sending dust twirling behind it. Sam saw Hope catch her scowl and swallow it as another boy stepped out; wet, untidy hair, blonde, fingers For a second I thought blonde modified fingers. >>" Reword this sentence.lodged into his bright green skinny jean pockets and overly cocky In fact, there's something wrong with everything that follows the semicolon. I'm not sure how, but it's awkward and something about the first and last parts strike me as odd. Revise.. Out of the other side came a stocky man. He pushed his silver sunglasses up onto the top of his head and waved at Hope. Although she showed no such respect to the boy, she waved back at her soon-to-be stepfather. I edited that because I was getting annoyed by all the semicolons. >>" No need to change, but...Sam’s mum walked out and greeted the adults, asking whether they’d like a glass of wine as was customary; as one, the adults walked onto the veranda, and commenced ‘adult talk’.
“So, Sam,” Ethan threw himself into a chair. “What is this surprise you’ve been talking about all year?” He held away the can of Pasito that Sam had thrown to him and cracked it open with much show – the others cheered as it didn’t, for once, froth up and spill all over him. He grinned, baring braces.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?” Sam rebuked. Rebuked so isn't the right word here. It's awkward and contrived in this spot. She perched herself on the arm of a three-seater couch and cracked open her own drink. The others, taking this as signal to sit, rushed to catapult themselves onto the couch, the last available seat. After a few seconds of elbowing and shoving, Hope was left scowling and standing away from the guys, fists on her hips. Like a gentleman, her soon-to-be step brother John moved away and bowed mockingly. Her expression was like thunder but Hope took the seat. She blushed as she was squished between the tall and blonde Tom and the sunglassed and dark-haired Hudson. Sam was in envy "In envy" isn't working. Maybe envious.; with her Antecedents at this point are screwy. You can't use Hope because you need to use it soon, but you can't use her because her would refer to Sam. :\ dark skin, Hope’s blush didn’t show up as well as it would on Sam's own pale skin.
“’K, kids!” Sam’s mum marched out, her dirty blonde hair flyaway and identical in all except length to her daughter’s, worn Akubra pushed low over her face. Worn Akubra... is a dangling modifier, IMO. I'm not sure though. She smiled, and the whole room seemed to brighten. “Sam’s surprise is almost ready to go.” Sam’s mum winked, tipped her hat and made to stride out of the room.
“What is the surprise?” asked Ethan, persistent as ever. To Ethan, news or secrets were like oxygen. He needed to have them. But once he had them, they never left him; not until the day he died, which thankfully hadn’t come yet. This last part is kind of weird, superfluous info.
Sam’s mum paused. “A rock-climb wall.” she said. The kids’ faces, if possible, brightened further. Sam swelled with pride and gratitude.
Hudson tugged on Sam’s long, blonde braid, demanding attention. Sam tugged his hair in turn, annoyed, to show him he’d gotten it. The area you placed annoyed in is kind of jarring. Revise.
“A rock climb wall,” he said. Although it was phrased like a sentence, his tone suggested it was a question.
“Why not?” Sam shrugged. “I love climbing.” Catching the stricken expression on John’s face, Sam looked at him with askance. Askance doesn't fit with the voice.
“John is afraid of heights,” Hope drawled. There is nothing wrong with the word said. It's an invisible word and it doesn't throw us off the story as much as "drawled" does. John seemed The word seemed implies that it only appeared so but it truly isn't so. Is that what you're going for? to slump, but didn’t glare as any other would; instead he sighed and looked up with apologetic eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Sam enthused. No no no no. Do not keep using other words for said. They're annoying and drag you out. That and enthused doesn't fit with the voice either. “I’ve got hundreds of water balloons filled up…so being a belayer will be just as fun.” She winked. John grinned.
“Oh no,” Hope mock stressed. Mock stressed is awkward, and again it doesn't fit with the voice. “Stop giving my step-brother ideas!”
“He’s not your step-brother yet,” Tom pointed out.
“Yes, but we all know how annoying youngsters are, so he will annoy me to he-” Youngsters? Seriously? She's more likely to say "kid" than youngster.
“I’m only younger by a few hours!” John snapped.
“Down, children!” Nooooo. She won't say that. It's so...unlikely for her age. Sam barked. At this point I'm tempted to keep track of how many other ways you can say said. And it's not for a good reason either. It's really annoying. So I'll repeat myself just to stress the point. Don't use too many synonyms for said. They all looked up at her. “I’m younger than you all except Ethan, how do you think I feel?” This feels like fluff. Do we really need to know this? Is it going to play an important part?
“Oh thanks, just because my feelings don’t matter…” Ethan held up his hands and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, mate, Sam still beats all on the ‘short’ front,” said Tom.
Sam glared.
“Don’t give me the stare of death!” he yelped. He grabbed Hope’s arm and used it to shield his eyes from Sam. Hope shrieked in surprise and elbowed him. This is really beginning to bore me.
“Stop flirting, I’ve got a rock wall I’m dying to go on,” Sam said.
“Tell me it’s of the bell ringing kind,” Hudson said, leaning forward and pointing an eager finger.
“Of course!” Maybe it's just me but "of course" sounds a little stilted here. Sam said. Hudson exclaimed in approval and the two slapped hands, showing off their secret handshake. Hope rolled her eyes.
Sam told the others to follow her and led them through the house, out the fly-screen door and under the veranda until she stood in front of the car shed, in front of which a truck rested with a rock-climb wall winched up to the vertical against the back.
“Sam, this is by far "By far" doesn't fit with the voice either. the coolest thing you’ve ever done, with maybe the exception of the pie fight.” The last part is also stilted, especially considering their ages. Hudson stated. The others laughed and sighed blissfully Blissfully will not fit. Again, voice problems. at the memories. John grinned awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, Johnny, we’ll do it next year. We’ll gang up on Hope,” Sam grinned You use grin waaay too many times. And you're fond of putting adverbs near it too. :\ Not good. evilly at her best friend. Hope stuck her tongue out and flashed a rude gesture across at Sam.
“Okay, kids, take your shoes off and line up. Two people are allowed on at a time, but the rest of you will be holding them up. We’ve got the exact number today, awesome,” said the instructor, clapping his hands together. Stilted.
“So two to one ratio?” asked Hudson, looking at the two pulleys. The instructor nodded. “We could send another up and save time, Sam only counts as a half.”
The instructor chuckled in confusion. Sam threw her shoe at Hudson.
As they stood to the side of the Hessian sacks set up under the rock wall, the instructor explained how they were to tie their harnesses up and demonstrated the belayer movements. He went through safety measures, explained to them about the differently coloured artificial rocks and about the ‘fat cow, healthy cow and skinny cow’ – meaning how slack the rope was between the two belayers and likening the curve to a cow’s belly. Soon, they were ready to go. You don't need to tell us this. A simple sentence would suffice. "The instructor gave them final reminders before blablabla." Sam and Hope lined up, helmeted and harnessed. Sam’s mum had fetched the camera and was ready to click away, one hand tilting her hat to shade her face and the other holding the camera at arms length.
“Okay… go!” said the instructor. He was still bewildered over Sam’s determination to climb on the hardest level of rock colour, but he let it be. She was such a little thing, and she had hardly any chance to get to the top, so he told her they could cheat if they wanted. It was her birthday, after all. There is a POV shift here. First we were with Sam, but now we're with the instructor. Revise this paragraph.
Seconds later, Just seconds? Not minutes? though, the instructor was eating his thoughts. Boys were whooping from below, and the little birthday girl was a meter above her friend, without cheating. He shook his head, astounded, but nevertheless impressed.
The artificial rocks were rough against her palms, but in a firm way that boasted security. Sam was just half a meter from the top, and she searched for the rocks in her colour as she reached up, her toes pressed onto the rocks below. She would only just be unable to reach them – damn this shortness! she thought. She hoisted herself up, calculating, and then made a leap for it. She gripped the rock with one hand, and heard an appreciative gasp below her. She blushed furiously, happy for the rock wall as an excuse to hide her face. She scrabbled up, legs working to push her higher. At last, she reached the top, and looked down again to find Hope. She was coming, slowly but surely – Sam decided to wait for her, the roughness of the rocks biting into her hand, leaving indents. She was up so high… but with an uncanny head for heights, Sam waited there, ready to press the button for the bell when Hope was.
Then, Hope was beside her and cheers went up from below. They hi-fived.
“On three?” Sam said. Hope nodded.
“One…”
They poised, ready to slam the red button.
“Two…”
They grinned at each other.
“Three!”
CRACK.

Thanks for reading!

~Durrie

Final thoughts:

Your word choice makes it seem like you're trying really hard. In some places the voice becomes stilted because you use big words that don't fit with your protagonist. Almost as if you're stuffing words up your protagonist's mouth. It's like you used big words because they'd seem cooler, but then you have to realize this is from the point of view of a twelve-year-old, so big words will not fit. There's a good rule of thumb to go by - I forgot who said it: If there's a simpler word, use it.

A considerable chunk of this is fluff that can be cut out. We can start at the rock climb wall and the effect would be the same if you do it right. Right now we really don't need the conversation between Sam and her friends. All it did was annoy the heck out of me. Plus, lots of characters were introduced here and I'm not sure all of them are going to make the cut. You only introduce characters when those characters will actually have a significant impact on the plot.

Moving on, from what I understand, Sam is just going to disappear. So why make us spend so much time with her when we're probably not going to see her for majority of the novel? It really annoys me to be introduced to a character that is eventually going to have no direct involvement in the plot. I mean, yes, she will probably be Alice's driving force but apart from that she doesn't do anything to directly affect it.

You can also condense this to a paragraph or two, or maybe spatter sentences about it throughout the novel. Check Cracked Up To Be as an example thereof. The inciting incident happens way before the start of the story, just like this one. But the author doesn't spell it out right away. She shows it to us little by little and we don't get presented with one big ball of fluff right away. We read about it little by little, and with each new bit she gives us we feel a little more inclined to sympathize with the main character. Here you dumped it on us all at once, so it really doesn't click. Plus, I have to say I don't really like Sam.

Sam feels like a flat, stereotypical tomboyish kid. There is nothing special about her. You didn't give us any quirks, any little contradictions that would make her truly alive. Same with the rest of the cast. And I don't know why you told me how the others looked, as they don't seem to have any direct importance to the plot. The only way I can justify your introducing this little group of friends is by seeing them make a comeback later on, as extremely vital characters. Meaning they ought to be Chekhov's Guns, or else you would have wasted the reader's time introducing him/her to characters that really don't matter after all.

Early on there's a huge paragraph of description that, although beautiful, did nothing but bore me. Might want to cut that out and maybe sprinkle it throughout the piece, because later on the description was flat and it was not half as atmospheric as the first paragraph.

Finally, the POV shift is jarring. You accidentally switched POV in there, that's okay. But I'd rather you stick to one character the whole novel as in the first chapter you showed us everything from the mother's POV and suddenly, in this chapter, it's in Sam's POV. Sam's mother is around during this chapter so you can show us this chapter from Sam's mom's POV, should you decide to keep it.

Anyway, those are my two cents. Sorry it took so long. PM me if you have any questions.

Sincerely,

Kara

Thank you SO much!! This was really helpful. I swear I'll re-write so I don't bore you all to death