(WW Book One) Chapter 1: Part 1

Please review! (I should have a lot of telling, not showing... I'm still trying to get the hand of it.) This is part 1 of Chapter out of 2 parts.


With a small shriek, Sierra quickly sidestepped, using the broom handle as leverage, around the small orange kitten that had made its home in the tavern as the mouse-hunter.

“You know, Ginger, one day one of the fishermen will step on you. And it’s going to hurt.” she said, then dropped her voice to a whisper and shielded her mouth with a hand to keep her words from reaching anyone else’s ears. “They’re big!”

“Who’s big?” came a deep voice from behind Sierra.

“N-no one, sir I--” Sierra stammered, slowly turning around, one eye squeezed shut, hands clasped tightly round the broom handle, but stopped when she saw who it was.

“Garrett! I swear you are going to drive me to insanity one day!” she hissed at him, turning the broom around and smacking his side with the pad of bristles.

“Hey!” he protested, running away from her swings. He ran behind her and grabbed her elbows, pulling them behind her, his hand very near a pressure point. “You’re still no stronger. When are you gonna get some muscle?” he asked with a sigh, shaking one of her thin arms for emphasis.

Sierra sighed and dropped the broom, glaring up at him over her shoulder, but she had a smile on her face. “Can you let me go so I can finish sweeping, please?” she asked sweetly, batting her eye lashes up at him.

“Sure thing.” he said, letting her go and stepping around her to grab her broom. He held it out to her with an innocent smile, but a contradicting impish look in his green eyes.

Sierra placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at the young man. Garrett was tall, a whole head taller than Sierra. He wore his dark brown hair the same way every man or boy in Lavella did, short, no longer than his chin, and neatly combed. He also wore the trousers and button up shirt all men had to wear, but he kept the top three buttons undone, and constantly got in trouble for it. No man under the age of twenty-one was allowed to unbutton their shirts, because that may attract a female’s attention, and no man under twenty-one can marry in Lavella.

“Just take the broom, red-head.” Garrett said, using her old nickname. She was the only person in Lavella with red hair, naming her “red-head” for life.

“Put the broom on the floor and maybe I will.” Sierra said, having already fallen for this trick.

With an over exaggerated sigh, he put the broom on the floor between them and walked over to his table in the corner, where John was already sitting.

Grumbling to herself, Sierra grabbed the broom and continued sweeping, now noticing Garrett had scared off poor Ginger. She sighed and swept the dirt Garrett had tracked in outside, then noticed John waving a hand. She pulled her notepad out of her blue apron’s pocket and took out a piece of charcoal, what she always used to write with.
“What can I get you?” she asked, putting the broom against a wall and looking directly at John, Garrett would probably kick her if she even glanced at him.

“The usual. You know? What we have every day.” John said, raising one eyebrow at her. She felt her cheeks flame the color of her hair. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she may have had a small crush on him, even though he was twenty-one and she was only eighteen.

“Sorry,” Sierra said quietly, ducking her head and running over to the kitchen, where her mom worked. “Two coffees, John and Garrett’s.” she told her, and her mother handed her two cups of black coffee, they both knew when the boys would get there and she was always ready.

Sierra didn’t even get her red hair from my mom. Her mother’s hair was light brown and tumbled down around her shoulders in bouncy curls, she had sparkling green eyes, a pale face, and naturally pink lips. Sierra had long, straight red hair and brown eyes, tanned skin, and pale lips.

“Here,” Sierra muttered, setting the cups down in front of John and Garrett, before grabbing her broom and sweeping around the other tables, which were occupied by merchants, travelers, and fishermen. There were only four tables in the tavern, each a small circle of oak wood with four chairs at each. They occupied each corner of the room, but the building was so small there was just enough space for someone to walk between them.

Finished sweeping, Sierra took her broom to the far end of the room and opened the door opposite the door to the kitchen, the closet. She moved aside a few fur coats, kicked an old wooden chair across the small space, and finally worked out a spot for the broom to go.

Just as she was closing the closet door, a man burst in, perspiring and breathing heavily. “Where’s the owner?” he cried, tiredly, looking around for Sierra’s dead father.

“I run it in place of my father, Earl Davis. Along with my mother.” Sierra said, shutting the closet door and walking over to the man.

“Well, um, how old are you?” he asked, looking at her small, lithe form.

“Eighteen. Now what is it?” she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes. Like most people in the village, he didn’t believe a tavern should be run by two woman.

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry ma’am. The King has sent a message to each home and farm and store. ‘Stay in your house, do not leave unless you have a male companion over the age of eighteen. He’s not sure what’s going on yet, but he was just under attack, and assumes the attack is after all of Riolin. If you see any man in an all black attire with his face covered by a mask, and a sword at his side, do not approach him. Enter the nearest building and don’t leave until he’s gone.’ They are what attacked the King and would have killed him if --”

“If we had attacked at night. Like now.” came a low, menacing voice from behind the man. Sierra looked over his shoulder and saw a man dressed just as the messenger had described, all black clothing, a black mask, and a sword, but in his hand. Behind him were two others, each holding a whip, though. Beside the first, stood two snarling wolves, their neck fur raised, their teeth bared, each dripping a steady stream of slobber onto the floor. One was white, the other black, but both had manic yellow eyes.

I don't think you have quite that much of a problem with telling over showing, although you do seem to have some really long sentences. It's important to not have sentences be all the same length, but it's also important to not have them drag on forever For instance that first sentence could be cut down into a few; just take a look, maybe read out loud and see if you're having to pause in the middle of a sentence for a breath.

Hey Meg.

Unlike your other stories that I have reviewed this is one of my favorites. There isn't a load of showing instead of telling, instead there is a lot of showing -Which I liked. Your characters were beautifully described and I could see them in my minds eye. The scene was also described as was the villan of the story.

I liked the banter between Sierra and Garrett.

Keep Writing

Anger.

Hey Megg,

I hate to play around with condescension so, but for thirteen years old you're a great writer. There's a real well of talent floating around YWS these days.

Although there are several things that I might comment on, I think that at the moment you need to focus right now on building tension. Your story seems developed enough and your characters are okay for a first chapter. What is not okay is the lack of drive that pushes the reader to read forward and to see what happens next. This highlights not lack of writing talent but a certain impatience to get to the meat of the story as soon as possible. And in your case it's pushed you so fast that you've tripped slightly over your own momentum. This manifests in several different forms throughout your chapter.

Firstly, the interaction between Sierra, Garret and John has progressed too quickly and too potently at this stage. In other words, you haven't let your main character earn her relationships. We tend to try to be too kind to our characters and give them all the gifts that we can, as we naturally want the reader to love our characters as much as we ourselves do. It's counter-intuitive, though. The more stuff you give your character without letting her work for it and before you have the reader's sympathy for her, the less chance we have of forming a relationship with her as a character and someone we can relate to.

Look at Harry Potter, one of the most loved fictional characters of all time. He starts off as a target. Everyone hates him. He's alone. Immediately, we feel sorry for him and can begin to form the relationship with him that is going to endure through seven books of hardships and defeats and victories.

If you want us to love your character, you have to make her the David versus the Goliaths of the world. The more you line up against her, the sweeter her victory will be. Show her being mistreated in the world, and the victory will be oh so much sweeter.

Then there's the technique with which you introduce the antagonists. You need to focus on setting the stage so that they actually seem scary. Remember that the greatest fear that humans feel is in anticipation, not in the event itself. As such, milk the fear. Make the danger as vivid as possible before the attack. It should be so real before the attack that the characters' fear is actual even before the attack. The attack need only reinforce that fear. Or perhaps make it even worse. Or perhaps bring relief. This makes no difference as long as the anticipation is potent and aggressive enough.

This means that vague ideas of what might be implicit in the attack is not enough to thrill the reader. You need the characters themselves to speak as though they are frightened. To infuse the air with expectation and their fear so much that it explodes out of the book and into the readers head. Make sentences and paragraphs shorter prior to the danger to set the scene. Isolate your protagonist and make her feel alone. Use words that imply fear and create that fear.

On another note entirely, kill all of your complicated dialogue tags and replace them with simple ones such as "said". This allows the reader to focus entirely on the dialogue without distraction.

That's it for now. Focus on developing the tension to make your readers want to push themselves forward and plow through your book and I'll enjoy your story much more.

Have a great one!

Hey Megg,

I'm Tanya, pleased to meet you

I don't know why you need to work on your show; you made it look effortless!

The usual. You know? What we have every day.” John said, raising one eyebrow at her. She felt her cheeks flame the color of her hair. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she may have had a small crush on him, even though he was twenty-one and she was only eighteen.

We know nothing about John here except that he's slightly sarcastic and can raise an eyebrow. But maybe you could give us a little more. Does he smile gently? Would his smile seem mocking if it were on anyone else' face (if yes, we'll get the impression that John is a jerk. It doesn't mean that SHE thinks he's a jerk but if he turns out to be, we won't be too astonished)

Sierra didn’t even get her red hair from my mom. Her mother’s hair was light brown and tumbled down around her shoulders in bouncy curls, she had sparkling green eyes, a pale face, and naturally pink lips. Sierra had long, straight red hair and brown eyes, tanned skin, and pale lips.

This has to be my only other issue with your chapter. We already know she has red-hair since Garett mentions it. Don't make this an info dump.

That very little being said, I have to agree with everything Master-Yoda said. The good and the helpful. It really is a great story, but you must build on the tension.

Keep writing!
Tanya

Hey Megg, Stella here!

I. NITPICKS

With a small shriek, Sierra quickly sidestepped, using the broom handle as leverage, around the small orange kitten that had made its home in the tavern as the mouse-hunter.

This is a run-on sentence. Break it up.

turning the broom around and smacking his side with the pad of bristles.

I think you could just say "head" or "end" or "bristly head" or something rather than pad of bristles.

she asked sweetly, batting her eye lashes up at him.

eyelashes.

and no man under twenty-one can marry in Lavella.

could marry?

“Just take the broom, red-head.” Garrett said, using her old nickname. She was the only person in Lavella with red hair, naming her “red-head” for life.

The only one? Wow. Also, is that the only insult they have for her? (No "Ginger"? Though I guess the cat's called that).

Sierra didn’t even get her red hair from my mom.

My mom?

Sierra had long, straight red hair and brown eyes, tanned skin, and pale lips.

Red hair doesn't go with tanned skin though?

“If we had attacked at night. Like now.”

I thought it was morning this whole time.

II. INTRODUCTIONS

I'm going to go on a thread that some of the other reviewers have touched on- introducing your characters. I like how you introduced Sierra and her position, but when it comes to John and Garrett they somehow just appear, even though there was no mention of them previously. After they have, there's some banter which is nice, but we don't really find out much about them or what her relationship with them is. Are they friends or family or one of both or what? Then your antagonistic character- or so it seems- comes in in a sort of mediocre way. Make it stand out, make him make an impact on Sierra and on the reader.

III. OVERALL

In general this is pretty polished and nice. Good job!

Hope I helped, drop me a note if you need anything!

-Stella x

Hey, my name is Sierra!

I don't do grammatical editing--just overall advice. I think it was pretty good, but if this is the very beginning of a book, I don't know if it could draw the readers in like it needs to. I am not saying it's bad or anything, though!

My impression of the chapter was good, and the description of the characters was very well done. The detail in the text was also extraordinary and I liked it very much.

Thats really all I'm going to write.

I need to go somewhere now ;D But I'll be back

~ emiliedanae.