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Intuition Part 1



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Sat Apr 26, 2008 12:58 am
RandomGrrl says...



Intuition (Part 1)

Aged Eleven:

Melody Lowe took a bite from her chocolate bar, looked out of her car window and, to her dismay, saw very little. There were a few scraggly trees, several shrubs that had seen better days, and yellow grass (which was really much closer to straw) covered the bumpy ground. Her dad was driving, her mother snoring lightly in the passenger seat, and her sister, while bobbing her head in time to whatever loud up-beat rhythm was blasting from her ear-buds, was trying to paint her nails. Though this seemed like a stupid enough thing to do in a moving vehicle anyway, Melody thought it was especially idiotic since they were not on your typical asphalt road.

The path they were traveling on was not solid concrete, or anything like it. It was gravel, in the looser sense of the word. In actuality it was closer to pebbles and stones and dust with the occasional rock thrown in for good measure. This road was bumpy. And while Melody was having trouble keeping her teeth from clacking and her head from bumping into the side of her door, her moron of a sister was trying to paint her nails. Not even her fingernails, but her toenails. The bottle she clutched reeked of chemicals, and Melody was sure that if the gooey liquid spilled onto the seat, it would burn straight through, just like acid. Her sister looked up.

“What are you staring at, dork?”
Melody glanced away, but Cherry, her sister, kept talking. Melody was amazed that her sister could speak naturally in this earthquake-drive.
“Huh? Tell me. Oh, I get it. You want me to paint your nails? Or how about your nose?” Cherry started waving the brush in front of Melody’s face. Melody grimaced at the stink, and put her hands up in front of her eyes and nose.
“No!” she whined. Her dad peered into his rearview mirror.
“Cherry! Melody! Your Mom is resting here! Calm down.”

Cherry went back to her toenails, and Melody went back to staring out the window. Her hand was tingling. She looked down and saw that Cherry had managed to brush her right thumb. It felt like it was burning. She thought about her daydream from earlier. She’d thought the polish would burn like acid. She told herself it was all in her imagination. And it must have been, because the strange sensation went away.

About an hour later, Melody finally saw a house looming out over the vast nothingness of the fields. She tried to sigh, but only managed to bite her tongue instead. Her relief slowly turned to panic as they drew closer to the building and she saw that one side of the roof had caved in. How, she had no idea, but the fact of the matter was that there was a gaping hole on the right side of the house. Melody checked her watch. Even though she detested the thought of it, it occurred to her that they might have time to drive back along the path, and the highway, to the last town they had stopped in. Maybe there was a hotel or an inn they could stay in for the night. With disappointment, she found that it was almost six- there was no chance of her father driving back in the dark. The sun was already setting, lending a giant shadow to the wrecked house, which, if possible, made it even more menacing.

“Maybe it snowed and the weight collapsed it,” her father muttered from the driver’s seat. Cherry rolled her eyes.
“I doubt that any of us cares much about how it happened, Dad.”
Her mother shifted in her seat and coughed. Her father reached over and rubbed her shoulder.

“Helen? We’re here,” he said and stopped the car. Helen sat up and looked at the old shack that was allegedly their new home.
“What happened?” she asked quietly and opened her door.
“We don’t know. I think it was probably the snow… The blizzards here in winter are hell.”
“But… where will we stay?”
“I don’t think we have much choice. It’s too late to drive back.” Melody’s father confirmed her suspicion.

She glimpsed the old house in her peripheral vision, and suddenly a wave of fear so strong it made her nauseous washed over her, and an incredibly powerful sense that she had been in this exact situation before. And the next second it was gone, though the fear still gripped her like a vice. But the nausea had left her.
She had frozen with one leg out of the car. She pulled it back in, and shut the door with a slam.

“Melody! Come on out here!” Her father called from the front of the house where he had joined her mother, but Melody shook her head and yelled, “No!” Her dad came back to the car and opened the door. And Melody knew what she was going to say to him. But not in that way that the brain normally forms words and then sends them into our mouths and out into space. Because she didn’t just know what she was going to say. She knew what he was going to say.

Mel, we’ve come all this way. No use arguing. I know it’s a little scary, but we don’t really… have a choice.” She thought his words as he said them, and before she knew it, she had answered.
“I cannot go in there. Please do not make me go in there,” she said, and started crying. Her father put his hand on her knee, alarmed.
Mel, what is it?
“I don’t know, I just can’t go in there,” she paused, realizing that she had just answered a question he hadn’t had time to ask. He didn’t seem phased though.

“Mel, you’ve got to come” … with me. Her mind finished the statement before he could. She started screaming that she couldn’t, wouldn’t, go in the house, but her father ignored her cries, picked her up, and carried her inside. He was whispering soothingly in her ear as he lifted her, “There is nothing to be afraid of. You’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
Slowly, she uncovered her eyes and peeked out from his arms. They were inside the house. He had taken her into the living room, and, though she clutched tightly to his hand, he set her gently on the couch, which looked old, and creaked under her weight, but stayed in one piece. She allowed her gaze to flit around the room, and pinched herself on the arm. She was awake… she was alive… she would be okay.

Helen came in through a doorway and sneezed, making Melody jump. Cherry came in through the same doorway, laughing at her sister’s reaction.
“What’s the matter, spaz? Is the old house freaking you out?”
Melody glared at Cherry. She has no idea what is going on. This place is bad, Melody thought. But she couldn’t put her finger on it. What exactly was bad about it? It seemed nice enough, for a little shack in the middle of nowhere.

Mr.Lowe had inherited the house from his Great-Aunt, who had died suddenly in this very living room of a heart attack. Maybe that’s it, Mel thought, the house is haunted. Apparently the house had been passed on in their family for generations, but rather than leave it to her own children, or even her adult grandchildren, the woman had left it to her great-nephew whom she had seen no more than three times in her life. Mel’s father had called it fate, as their lease had been up on their townhouse, and they really had nowhere else to go. Mel rubbed the cushion of the old couch despairingly with her polish-stained hand. Ha-ha, she thought, nowhere is right.

Melody’s father looked at Helen and sighed. “Don’t worry,” she said, “the roof that fell in was part of the garage. The house is intact.”
“Good. Then we should be able to sleep just fine tonight.”
Melody sucked in a lungful of air and opened her eyes wide. She hadn’t thought about that. She was supposed to sleep in this place?
“There are only two bedrooms, I’m afraid,” her mother was saying, “so until we can get a contractor out here to figure out adding a room on, you two will have to share.”
Melody released the breath gradually. If Cherry was with her, nothing would try to hurt her. Right?

After a meal of cold sandwiches and root beer, they started taking their suitcases out of the car and making themselves at home. When Melody had hopped over the last porch step warily, she saw her father lean down beside the car and examine something. He picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. Melody didn’t bother asking what it was.

The others had finished unpacking, and sat in the living room watching the ancient television. Her parents had sold most of their own things when they heard that the house was furnished, but the few things they did have were arriving in a delivery truck driven by Jack’s (Mr. Lowe’s) brother, Hank. With a start, Melody realized that they would actually be living in this house. It had not been real to her until that moment. The fact that they were really going to be eating their meals, spending their days, sleeping and, in essence, depending on this house had not come to mind until that moment.
And perhaps that is why, at that same moment, the same feeling of nausea came once more, and with it the intense fear and feeling that she had been here before. She looked around frantically; searching for something familiar- but the problem was that in this state, everything seemed familiar. And, again, her mind started predicting what would happen before it did, anticipating the voices coming from the other room, and exactly what they would say.

But before, she had heard her father’s voice in her head right before he had spoken. This time her mind was a whirlwind, as she processed both what her ears were hearing through the paper-thin walls, and what her brain was anticipating. Though difficult to describe, it sounded to her something like this:

I hate all these commercials.
“Oh, this show is so funny! Stop here, Dad!” Cherry’s voice sounded. There was laughter.
Can we get cable or satellite here, hon?
“I hate all these commercials,” Jack growled.
I don’t know.
“Can we get…” Helen started.
Cherry, could you grab me a beer from the cooler?
“…satellite here, hon?” she finished.
“I don’t know. Cherry, could you…” Jack began, his voice tight for some reason.
Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?
“… cooler?” He finished.
“Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?” said Helen.

That was how the conversation sounded to Melody: an array of voices all talking at once, interspersing with images of them talking. Melody shook her head.

“It’s just a dream!” she shouted, but a second after she gagged from the nausea. She shook her head, clutching her ears, and jumped up and down, humming loudly, trying to shut out the voices. And, amazingly, it worked. She stopped jumping. The feeling was gone. She finished unpacking, her hands quaking.



♦ ♦ ♦
Next part coming soon! Tell me what you like and what you don't.
  





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Sat Apr 26, 2008 8:13 pm
Sam says...



Hey, RandomGrrl!

Ooh, cool story. I really do hope it's something paranormal--you don't know how beyond awesome that would be. XD You did a really good job of setting up the characters, and I'm really excited for part two.

GOING TO GREAT LENGTHS

One of the things that you can do to make your writing eight hundred thousand times more smooth (no lie) is to keep track of the number of clauses in your sentences. Especially at the beginning, you had long, rambly sentences that were pretty by themselves, but together made kind of strange reading. Mix it up! If you have a sentence with three clauses in it, say, you might want to put a sentence with two after it, and so forth. You can have two or so in a row with the same number, but shaking up the number a little bit will keep the reader awake. After a few sentences with the same number, people are apt to fall asleep because they can expect the rhythm and flow of the next one. So! Vary, vary, vary. Your readers will thank you for it.

REALITY CHECK

I had a few questions in this story that went unanswered, and they're things that should be established early on so that your readers don't completely freak out. :wink:

- The garage fell in?! If that's the case, they'd probably have an inspector or something out there to make sure the rest of the building was structurally sound. Otherwise, I'd be pretty scared, too.

- How does she not know what the house looks like? Usually, families get together to scope out new properties and the like. It probably wouldn't be a complete shock.

- How is the move to the country affecting your narrator? What does she miss about her previous life?

___

Thanks for the read! Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or want me to take a look at something else. ^_^
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Fri Jun 06, 2008 4:14 pm
JFW1415 says...



Yay! I get to rip yet another story to pieces. J You should go thank Sam. She convinced me to critique these pieces, ‘cause she’s so freakin’ amazing.

Oh, and expect critiques from me on the other parts soon.

Nit-Picks

Cherry went back to her toenails[s],[/s] and Melody went back to staring out the window. Her hand was tingling. She looked down and saw that Cherry had managed to brush her right thumb. It felt like it was burning. She thought about her daydream from earlier. She’d thought the polish would burn like acid. She told herself it was all in her imagination. And it must have been, because the strange sensation went away.

Except for that last sentence, these all have the same structure. Basically, they’re boring to read. Add commas, dashes, semi-colons – anything.

She tried to sigh, but only managed to bite her tongue instead.

Hm…something has to go in that sentence. Maybe ‘She tried to sigh, but instead bit her tongue?’

How, she had no idea, but the fact of the matter was that there was a gaping hole on the right side of the house.

Who in their right mind would buy a house with a caved in roof?

Even though she detested the thought of it, it occurred to her that they might have time to drive back along the path[s],[/s] and the highway[s],[/s] to the last town they had stopped in.

The sun was already setting, lending a giant shadow to the wrecked house, which, if possible, made it even more menacing.

If the sun goes down at six, it means it’s winter, right? So show some of this – ice on the ground, at the very least, usually snow. And frost on the windows when she looks out?

“Maybe it snowed and the weight collapsed it,” her father muttered from the driver’s seat. Cherry rolled her eyes.

Then where is all the snow? The way you described the place didn’t feel like winter at all.

Her mother shifted in her seat and coughed. Her father reached over and rubbed her shoulder.

These sentences are too similar. ‘Her mother/father [action] and [action.]’ Spice it up!

“But… where will we stay?”

Is it really that hard to stay? Well, I guess the rest of the roof could have been bad, too, but technically only the roof over the garage caved in.

“I don’t think we have much choice. It’s too late to drive back.” Melody’s father confirmed her suspicion.

It’s six. He prefers putting his family in danger to driving to a hotel?

She glimpsed the old house in her peripheral vision, and suddenly a wave of fear so strong it made her nauseous washed over her, and an incredibly powerful sense that she had been in this exact situation before. And the next second it was gone, though the fear still gripped her like a vice. But the nausea had left her.

Who is ‘she,’ exactly? Also, this is a bit strange. You completely switched voices! Prepare us a little bit. Let us feel this a tiny bit, more and more each time, and then let it come this strong. Don’t just throw it at us, though.

She had frozen with one leg out of the car. She pulled it back in[s],[/s] and shut the door with a slam.


“Melody! Come on out here!” Her father called from the front of the house where he had joined her mother, but Melody shook her head and yelled, “No!” Her dad came back to the car and opened the door. And Melody knew what she was going to say to him. But not in [s]that [/s]the way that the brain normally forms words and then sends them into our mouths and out into space. Because she didn’t just know what she was going to say. She knew what he was going to say.

Duuuuude…confusing much? You really can’t go from nothing to all of this. You need to build it up very slightly. Don’t tell us what’s going on at first, but give us very subtle hints so that we know something’s up. Right now, I completely lost faith in your story. I don’t believe it anymore!

Universal example here: Harry Potter. Very strange things going on, yet we’re given tiny clues. The snake escaping. The hair growing back. The letters that come. Then – BANG! Hagrid comes. But we believe it, because we’ve been expecting something,

You need that here, too. Give us small things so when this happens, we don’t think ‘this is impossible.’

“I cannot go in there. Please do not make me go in there,” she said[s],[/s] and started crying. Her father put his hand on her knee, alarmed.

He had taken her into the living room, and, though she clutched tightly to his hand, he set her gently on the couch[s],[/s] which[s] looked old, and[/s] creaked under her weight, but stayed in one piece.

You showed us – don’t tell us.

It seemed nice enough, for a little shack in the middle of nowhere.

A little shack? Didn’t sound like one. Besides, shacks don’t have a garage. :)

Maybe that’s it, Mel thought[s],[/s]. [s]t[/s]The house is haunted.

Ha-ha, she thought[s],[/s]. [s]n[/s]Nowhere is right.

“Good. Then we should be able to sleep just fine tonight.”

Who’s speaking?

Melody sucked in a lungful of air and opened her eyes wide. She hadn’t thought about that. She was supposed to sleep in this place?

She was thinking about going to a hotel to sleep, so why wouldn’t she realize they were sleeping here?

After a meal of cold sandwiches and root beer[s],[/s] they started taking their suitcases out of the car and making themselves at home. When Melody had hopped over the last porch step warily, she saw her father lean down beside the car and examine something. He picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. Melody didn’t bother asking what it was.

Random much? This whole paragraph was pretty boring – you lost my attention.

The others had finished unpacking[s],[/s] and sat in the living room watching the ancient television. Her parents had sold most of their own things when they heard that the house was furnished, but the few things they did have were arriving in a delivery truck driven by Jack’s (Mr. Lowe’s) brother, Hank. With a start, Melody realized that they would actually be living in this house. It had not been real to her until that moment. The fact that they were really going to be eating their meals, spending their days, sleeping and, in essence, depending on this house had not come to mind until that moment.

You’re kind of bugging me here. Just let her realize it! Really – how old is she? She should figure this out a little sooner.

She looked around frantically[s]; [/s], searching for something familiar[s]- [/s], but the problem was that in this state[s],[/s] everything seemed familiar.

Wait - do you mean 'everything seemed unfamiliar?'[i]

This time her mind was a whirlwind[s],[/s] as she processed both what her ears were hearing through the paper-thin walls[s],[/s] and what her brain was anticipating.


Though difficult to describe, it sounded to her something like this:

Gah…that’s kind of ugly. Just ditch it – we can figure it out.

“Oh, this show is so funny! Stop here, Dad!” Cherry’s voice sounded. There was laughter.

I’d ditch the tag to show that it’s just a continuous roll of voices/thoughts. Plus, we can figure it out. (Actually, I see you do it below, too. I’d ditch them all.)

“… cooler?” [s]H[/s]he finished.

That was how the conversation sounded to Melody: an array of voices all talking at once, interspersing with images of them talking. Melody shook her head.

Again, don’t tell us what’s to come or what we just heard. Just something like ‘Melody shook her head, desperately trying to shake the array of voices that were filling her mind’ will do.

“It’s just a dream!” she shouted, but a second after she gagged from the nausea. She shook her head, clutching her ears, and jumped up and down, humming loudly, trying to shut out the voices. And, amazingly, it worked. She stopped jumping. The feeling was gone. She finished unpacking, her hands quaking.

I’d ditch the last sentence to end with a bang. Also, why is she all alone? Why don’t her parents wonder why she screams?

Overall Comments

Sam

Since you only had one critique, I took the time to read it. I think I may have echoed her slightly in the nit-picks, but that’s just because I agree with all of that. For the overall comments, I’ll try to touch on the points that she didn’t get to.

I do have one thing to add to that, though. Sometimes only parents go to check out a new house. (They’ll usually bring back pictures, but not always.) The parents, at least, shouldn’t seem so shocked.

Age

This is one that is really bothering me. How old are the two girls? (The adults are all right, since we know they’re adults, seeing as they have two speaking and walking children.)

Mainly when Melody freaked out, she seemed really young. But earlier she had seemed older. You need to make her fear seem more believable – make it so it would be weird if she didn’t freak out. But if she’s a teenager, it’s unlikely her dad will carry her. If she’s, say, seven, her dad may pick her up.

Cherry doesn’t need to be defined quite so much. You can tell they’re close in age, but which one’s older? If you can show that you’ll have her age down perfectly.

Just please, please, please don’t go out and tell us. I hate it when people do it. You know how different age groups act – show us that.

Oh, haha, you did tell us! At the very beginning. But that just proved my point – I’m not going to pay attention to that! You need to show us how old they are, not just tell us.

Helen

You were pretty good at keeping us next to Melody through this whole story. We stayed in the room with her instead of following the others. We didn’t know things her dad did know. We say ‘her dad’ instead of the guy’s name.

But you didn’t do that with her mother. Keep it through Melody – call her ‘Melody’s mother’ or ‘her mother.’ Don’t actually call her Helen in the narrative. (Of course, her father can in dialogue. We’ll figure it out.)

Italicize Thoughts

I saw this three times, so I decided just to mention it down here instead. When you have something like ‘I have to get out of here, I thought,’ then the ‘I have to get out of here’ has to be italicized. (Though some people chose to just use apostrophes. You just need to let us know that something’s different, that it’s no longer just narrative.

Relationship Between Sisters

In the car, they seemed like normal sisters. But then Melody suddenly trusts Cherry with her life? A bit too sudden. Let us see a tiny bit of a bond, and then, when things get rough, let them rely on one another.

Details

Yes, you do have some, but I would like more. What’s the house feel like? Is it big and empty? Damp? Does the couch smell like mildew?

You need to set up the atmosphere when she first enters the house. Is it huge, is it old, stuff like that. Then we have a picture of it, we know how it feels, and you can just slip in tiny notes to remind us of this. Then you won’t have to interrupt dialogue or action to describe it.

Also, the outside. You said the sun was setting, yet they ate and then unloaded the car? And remind us what it’s like outside. I pictured a hot day, but you wanted it to be winter!

Sell Everything!

Who would ditch everything? People want to remember things, they want the comfort of their own stuff. Let them bring some things. Also, the parents didn’t seem to know what the house looked like. So they sold everything before seeing their new stuff? Unlikely.

Fear

This is the biggest one. You just suddenly decide ‘hey, she’s gonna freak out!’ You need to give us a reason. Make it so she has to freak out. (This also goes back to the whole little hints thing. Build it up, so we feel a little bit of fear, then let it all out.)

Too Many Commas!

You probably noticed that I took out a million commas, and you probably thought ‘ha! She doesn’t know anything.’

I felt the same way when people first started taking out my commas. Yes, they’re needed. But do they slow down the story?

Read them out loud. The ones I took out do slow it down.

Last Notes

It’s actually not bad, I just ramble a lot. :) I thought I would hate the car ride part, but you made it interesting and managed to set up the relationship between the family there. It’s an interesting idea, and I want to know more. What else can you ask for?

PM me for anything at all.

~JFW1415
  





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Fri Jun 06, 2008 5:38 pm
StellaThomas says...



Stella here, for a full critique!!!

Nitpicks:

There were a few scraggly trees, several shrubs that had seen better days, and yellow grass (which was really much closer to straw) covered the bumpy ground.


You use two verbs here. Either say "there was" or "covered." Not both.

Not even her fingernails, but her toenails


This is quite a feat. Describe, perhaps? Is Cherry a contortionist?

The bottle she clutched reeked of chemicals, and Melody was sure that if the gooey liquid spilled onto the seat, it would burn straight through, just like acid.


Sorry, science freak, but perhaps you should say "strong acid"?

“What are you staring at, dork?”


The "dork" here seems unnecessary and cliché. A mean, cooler, older sister, who uses words like "dork"? No...

Melody glanced away


Glanced is more, look away, look back. Perhaps you could say "Looked hurriedly away" or something of the sort?

Melody went back to staring out the window. Her hand was tingling. She looked down and saw that Cherry had managed to brush her right thumb. It felt like it was burning. She thought about her daydream from earlier. She’d thought the polish would burn like acid. She told herself it was all in her imagination. And it must have been, because the strange sensation went away.


This is a bit bizarre. Peut-etre it shall be explained? Also, again with the acid.

The sun was already setting, lending a giant shadow to the wrecked house, which, if possible, made it even more menacing.


This line is good, but perhaps you could describe the house more to make it more menacing?

Slowly, she uncovered her eyes and peeked out from his arms. They were inside the house. He had taken her into the living room, and, though she clutched tightly to his hand, he set her gently on the couch, which looked old, and creaked under her weight, but stayed in one piece. She allowed her gaze to flit around the room, and pinched herself on the arm. She was awake… she was alive… she would be okay.


Describe the room. We can't imagine it if we're not there.

“What’s the matter, spaz? Is the old house freaking you out?”


Again with the cliché.

She has no idea what is going on. This place is bad, Melody thought


Should be italics.

for a little shack in the middle of nowhere.


Is it a big menacing ooming monstrosity or a shack? Make up your mind.

Maybe that’s it, Mel thought, the house is haunted.


Italics again.

Melody released the breath gradually. If Cherry was with her, nothing would try to hurt her. Right?


Except Cherry herself? Is she a protector or a bully or both?


I hate all these commercials.
“Oh, this show is so funny! Stop here, Dad!” Cherry’s voice sounded. There was laughter.
Can we get cable or satellite here, hon?
“I hate all these commercials,” Jack growled.
I don’t know.
“Can we get…” Helen started.
Cherry, could you grab me a beer from the cooler?
“…satellite here, hon?” she finished.
“I don’t know. Cherry, could you…” Jack began, his voice tight for some reason.
Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?
“… cooler?” He finished.
“Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?” said Helen.


Clever.

That was how the conversation sounded to Melody: an array of voices all talking at once, interspersing with images of them talking. Melody shook her head.


That's telling us, not showing us. "How the conversation sounded to Melody" sounds like you're in the middle of an essay.

Description:

You started well, but your description sort of disappeared. You have to understand that the reader doesn't see what you see when you write this, so you need to show us what you're thinking. Tell us how the living room looks, etc.

Continuity:

You switch from shack to big looming house, back to shack. What about Cherry? Is she our typical teenage girl, or is there more to her than meets the eye? She seemed to switch roles halfway through. Pick a plce for her and stick with it.

Show and Tell:

Again, make sure you show us the story, not tell it. More to do with description. How do they all look? What are their actions?

Filling Out Your Characters:

Nervous habits? Weird ways of speaking? Make them as real as possible. They seem a bit 2D at the moment. Make them into real people, introduce them to us properly. Again, we don't know who they are, so you need to show us.

But overall, you seem to have a good basis to work on here, and with a little work, it can be a really well-written opening!

PM me if you have any questions!

-Stella.
"Stella. You were in my dream the other night. And everyone called you Princess." -Lauren2010
  





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Sat Jun 07, 2008 11:51 pm
Leja says...



Melody Lowe took a bite from her chocolate bar, looked out of her car window and, to her dismay, saw very little. There were a few scraggly trees, several shrubs that had seen better days, and yellow grass (which was really much closer to straw) covered the bumpy ground. Her dad was driving, her mother snoring lightly in the passenger seat, and her sister, while bobbing her head in time to whatever loud up-beat rhythm was blasting from her ear-buds, was trying to paint her nails. Though this seemed like a stupid enough thing to do in a moving vehicle anyway, Melody thought it was especially idiotic since they were not on your typical asphalt road.


Watch out for excessive information (infodumps). It's good that you began with an action, to get the reader right into the flow of the story, but after that, it seemed like adding stickers to a page until there was a scene; Melody doesn't really interact with much until the third paragraph, and it becomes all to easy to just gloss over everything. Instead, look to incorperate the description into the action, filing in pieces in little bits, and it'll read much more smoothly.

I have a question about Cherry and Melody's names; were they chosen for a reason? They seem too... out there. Generally, Melody's name is fine because it's semi-common (uncommon enough to be commonly uncommon... er, if that made sense), but Cherry's name seems needlessly different. Personally, I'd name her something more conventional.
  





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Mon Jun 09, 2008 2:24 pm
Azila says...



Hey! Sorry this took so long -- I've been really busy. I'll try to get my crits of the other parts to you sooner. :D

Oh, and sorry if I repeat any nitpicks. I tend not to read that part of the previous reviews (I only read the overall impressions part -- usually, anyway).

Melody Lowe took a bite from her chocolate bar, looked out of her car window and, to her dismay, saw very little.
The word "dismay" makes me think that this is a sudden change in the outdoors. Like she's hoping to see lush green forest, but looks out and gets surprised to see desert. Maybe you should say something about the fact that she's not surprised to see what she does?

There were a few scraggly trees, several shrubs that had seen better days, and yellow grass (which was really much closer to straw) covered the bumpy ground.
This is kind of awkward. You should make it into two sentences, IMO: "There were a few scraggly trees, several shrubs that had seen better days. Yellow grass (which was really much closer to straw) covered the bumpy ground."

In actuality it was closer to pebbles and stones and dust with the occasional rock thrown in for good measure.
This isn't completely necessary, but I think you should add a comma after "actuality."

Melody checked her watch. Even though she detested the thought of it, it occurred to her that they might have time to drive back along the path, and the highway, to the last town they had stopped in. Maybe there was a hotel or an inn they could stay in for the night. *** With disappointment, she found that it was almost six- there was no chance of her father driving back in the dark.
The bold sentence sounds out of place to me. I think you should cut and paste it to the place where I put some bold asterisks. Just because then, you're describing it in chronological order and it makes more sense. (I think so, anyway)

The sun was already setting, lending a giant shadow to the wrecked house, which, if possible, made it even more menacing.
You should definitely show us that it's menacing. From your description before, it just seemed decrepit... old... run-down. But not menacing. ^_~

She glimpsed the old house in her peripheral vision, and suddenly a wave of fear so strong it made her nauseous washed over her, and an incredibly powerful sense that she had been in this exact situation before.
Whoa! That's one monster of a sentence. >.< May I try my hand at rewording it? Why thank you. :D "She glimpsed the old house in her peripheral vision, and a sudden wave of strong, nauseating fear washed over her, and an incredibly powerful sense that she had been in this exact situation before." Maybe that's a little better? I dunno.

It seemed nice enough, for a little shack in the middle of nowhere.
"Little"?! Didn't you say it was a huge, towering, ominous thing?

Mr.Lowe had inherited the house from his Great-Aunt, who had died suddenly in this very living room of a heart attack.
I know this is really nitpicky, but there should be a space between "Mr." and "Lowe." Also, I don't really like the use of "suddenly." :? Maybe try using "recently" or something?

When Melody had hopped over the last porch step warily, she saw her father lean down beside the car and examine something. He picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. Melody didn’t bother asking what it was.
Ooh! Mystery! Intrigue! ^_^

I hate all these commercials.
“Oh, this show is so funny! Stop here, Dad!” Cherry’s voice sounded. There was laughter.
Can we get cable or satellite here, hon?
“I hate all these commercials,” Jack growled.
I don’t know.
“Can we get…” Helen started.
Cherry, could you grab me a beer from the cooler?
“…satellite here, hon?” she finished.
“I don’t know. Cherry, could you…” Jack began, his voice tight for some reason.
Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?
“… cooler?” He finished.
“Hey, isn’t that the guy from that old comedy, the one with the hippo?” said Helen.
This is brilliantly done, I have to say. Not only is it confusing to our minds ('cause we don't know what's going on, really, and it's hard to track) but it's also confusing to our eyes, with the italics and non-italics, and quotes, and dialogue tags. I think you might want to get rid of the dialogue tags, actually, but it's up to you.

_____________________________________


Wow. This was really well done.

Your description of the fear and the weird powers she suddenly has is amazing.

I only wish you'd describe other things so well. I would like more description of settings. I understand the basic feel of the house, but I'd like more specific description of the smells, feels, looks, sounds, even smells of the house. When her father is carrying her in, wouldn't the first thing she notices (before she opens her eyes) be the difference in the air? From the outside (which needs more sensual description too, by the way ^_^) to the inside? And in the car -- try to mention the smell of the nail polish sooner, because it is such a strong part of the scene. And what about temperature? Are they huddled together under fluffy winter coats, or sprawling, their skin sticking to the seats even though the air conditioner is on high?

Also, (and yes, I realize than I am echoing other people) they would probably at least look at the house before selling everything they have (or almost) and moving. Don't you think? I mean, maybe just the dad and/or mom went before, without the kids? So it can still be a surprise for Mel. And obviously when the parents went, the roof hadn't caved in. ^_^

Another thing is are they gonna go to school? And what about buying groceries, and stuff? Think about it, it would be really tough for a normal, modern-day family to live in the middle of nowhere, where the nearest town is a long drive away.

That brings me to my next point: the family. So far, they all seem pretty cliché. The older sister is annoying, vein and insulting. The father is caring, but harsh. The mom is distant (shown, partially, by calling her by name). The main character is lonely.

I have a feeling problems will arise between all these clashing personalities, living together in an isolated place. :D

I will review part two ASAP.

PM me if you have any questions/comments.

Hope this helps!
~Azila~
  





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Thu Jun 26, 2008 11:25 pm
Leja says...



Hey RandomGrrl! (sorry it took me so long to get to this!)

I must say, I had a hard time getting into the story. It began with a lot of description, of things that didn't really matter to the overall story but rather to the setting at that moment. I don't really get a sense of who the characters are, and that's important since we'll be with them longer than the scenery outside the car window.

To the same note, watch out for long blocks of exposition like this one:

Mr.Lowe had inherited the house from his Great-Aunt, who had died suddenly in this very living room of a heart attack. Maybe that’s it, Mel thought, the house is haunted. Apparently the house had been passed on in their family for generations, but rather than leave it to her own children, or even her adult grandchildren, the woman had left it to her great-nephew whom she had seen no more than three times in her life. Mel’s father had called it fate, as their lease had been up on their townhouse, and they really had nowhere else to go. Mel rubbed the cushion of the old couch despairingly with her polish-stained hand. Ha-ha, she thought, nowhere is right.



Try to space it out a little more; incorporate it in dialgoue or description in little bits rather in one big block because it really halts the story in its tracks. With new information, it's always better to be discreet because being sneaky pulls the audience further and further into the story, and they don't even realize it ^_^

To that extent, you might consider integrating the whirlwind of conversation at the end a little more smoothly. Phrases like "Though difficult to describe..." and "That was how the conversation sounded..." take the reader out of the story and remind them that they are, actually, reading and not there; it suspends the illusion.
  








Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.
— J.K. Rowling