Young Writers Society

...

HOOOLLLLYYY..... COW.....

Darling, you have a great and intence beginning! And I love it, but with the whole 'vampire' thing, you might want to be careful because that is becoming a little bit overused. And with the entire Twilight Saga making every girl go goo goo over Edward Cullen and all that crap. Me, personally I want to keep reading this, please PM me when there is more up.

Again be careful with the whole 'the clock struck midnight' another cliche and yet part Cinderella. I think the best possible part of the entire story was when he asked her if she would forgive him, that would bet he first time I have ever read something THAT intense!

I think that maybe you should do something different with the 'Painful transformation.' Instead of making it painful making it unique.

Like

'... her eyes expanded and her breath began to slow, she felt her tempature drop. She saw the world around her in different eyes. Her throat became dry, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming in fury she bit herself so hard she drew blood and liked the taste the texture of rust and metal...."

Something like that would work, fairly well.

Well I enjoyed your piece and keep working at it darling!

Much love, luck and keep writing
-Max

Hi!

My first comment would be about your descriptions. There is a lot of detail about the surroundings, but they don't strongly create an atmosphere proper for the story. For example, the second paragraph should describe a beautiful night, but the imagery is not powerful enough to create that picture. There are other details you could remove without altering the feel of the story as well, such as

over the thick Persian rug in the parlor, her bare feet sinking into the silky threads;

the hem of her nightgown flapping against her ankle

and etcetera .

The way you describe the girl's emotions is very vivid and honest. I really like that .

The earth and twigs beneath her feet pricked and stabbed, but it was a wonderful pain. It was a constant reminder that she couldn’t be dreaming.

This is very wonderful . It's the sort of detail that makes your story more engaging.

I also like your portrayal of a more ruthless vampire. I think that's how they should be: more animal than human. But I see some parallels with the Twilight books, such as the eyes, and as October Girl mentioned, the pain of transformation. So maybe you could alter some things about the vampire legend to make it more your own .

Oh, and let me nitpick just once:

“Whatever I did, would you forgive me for it?”

This should be "Whatever I might do, will you forgive me for it?" because he hasn't done anything yet at this point . But you can also rewrite it so it doesn't sound vague but still appears mysterious.

Overall, this is a well-written piece. Good job .

Sunny-

I am at a lost for words. This was beautiful. I loved every moment of it and I was drawn in from the beginning and I couldn't stop reading and, I'm sorry, but I didn't focus on finding any grammatical errors or anything, but this was really really good. I believe this to be one of the best pieces of writing I've read on here.

And this novel, I really want to read it, so hopefully it all goes well and that you get it published one day because this seriously looks and feels like something I would enjoy reading.

Favorite part:

A cry like a wounded, dying animal escaped her, the horrible, hoarse sound echoing around the empty forest. The sky wept hard, bitter tears that cut into her skin. The fire was dying down now, leaving weak, tattered ashes, the remains of a girl. Of a human. And the pitch black void she had kept at bay so long now lurched up and consumed her. There was no escaping.

This wasn’t just pain. This—this was death.

You had my breath, when I read this chunk.

Fun Facts:

If this took place in June and not July, it would be my birthday.

The Highwayman is one of my favorite poems of all times.

Please, if you post more, please please please tell me and I will gladly review it for it.

Keep writing,

~Angel

Hey dear, Stella here, as requested!

I. NITPICKS

He lured her out of the house at night, that beautiful, mysterious boy who stole her heart.

At night, or that night...

He tapped at her window at in the deadest hour of the night,

at in?

Over the wooden floor, walking expertly on the floor boards she knew wouldn’t creak;

floorboards is one word, methinks.

He brought his wrist to her lips, and she let out a gurgling cry and tried to push it away. But he took a handful of her hair and forced her head back, and the blood that slipped over her tongue and down her throat in a thick river was hot, blazingly hot.

I don't understand this at all...

II. AMBIGUITY

I don't understand the last part... does she die? Why did he make her drink his blood (if that was, indeed, what he was doing)... I just think that you could have made it all a whole lot more clearer.

III. OVERALL

Your writing is beautiful! I liked it.

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

-Stella.

AWESOME!~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i loved it.! lots of imagary and emotion......which is great! And the titile is very catchy.... !!!!! write more please.!! x x x x x x

I loved it. The intensity glues you beautifully to the screen. I know i felt like i was going through the exact same thing as her. The whole description of the guy 'curious smile', 'angular face' evil but unable to hate.... it is unbelievably twilight. What you need to do is give it that extra twist of darkness, the extra lack of perfection on the guy as to make it your own. I don't think that at the end of that it should be clear whether she dies or transforms, i like how you have done it to make the reader question it. I don't see how you can add anymore on that story, despite really wanting to read more!!! You could change the main character to him for another story line, however you would have to be vague with character history and what he actually thinking to keep the curious edge but you could do another chapter leading straight on from that and answer all of the curious cliffhangers, which will be killing me for weeks!

Please pm me if/when another chapter comes out.

[spoiler]
Red = My corrections or suggestions.
Bold = My comments.
Underline = What I’ll be commenting on.
[s]Red Strikethrough[/s] = Omit
¶ = I started new paragraph.
July 21, 1918
Just outside St. Petersburg, Russia

He lured her out of the house at night – that beautiful, mysterious boy who stole her heart.
That night the moon was absent, and the rest of the world knew it. The sky—a huge expanse of black peppered with stars—seemed a void without the glowing orb. The stars winked like diamonds, as if to make up for the lack of light. Evening dew twinkled on the ground, stiffening the grass and coating the leaves of the bushes. The forest whispered incoherent words in a raspy rustle of branches, and the trees themselves swayed back and forth in the warm summer wind.
It was far too nice a night for tragedy.
He tapped at her window in the deadest hour of the night, just as the grandfather clock downstairs chimed one. It was soft, quiet sound – the clink of pebbles on glass – but it woke her all the same. She had been sleeping fitfully, her dreams filled with his face, watching her Remove the comma. from across the street, winking at her as he passed her at the school. His eyes glued to her whenever she dared to meet them.
She slid out of bed, her heart thumping wildly, because Remove the first comma, and maybe “for” would sound better than because in this sentence. she knew it was him. It had to be. She crept to the window without thinking that her thin white shift was all she had on. Gently, she pushed it open with the palm of her hand.
And there he was.
It reminded her of “The Highwayman.” The wind blew a warm torrent through the trees, making them hiss and mutter; and this disastrously beautiful boy stood silently outside her window. The only thing missing was the ghostly galleon of the moon.
“Simon,” she whispered.
He smiled up at her, a curious smile that seemed to lurk in his eyes constantly, a hint of darkness to it. And he did not have to utter a single word; she knew what he wanted.
Without hesitation, she closed the window and crept downstairs. Over the wooden floor, walking expertly on the floorboards she knew wouldn’t creak; over the thick Persian rug in the parlor, her bare feet sinking into the silky threads; across the front hall, past the towering shadow of the grandfather clock—a disapproving omen—to the front door. Kind of a really long run-on, and misuse of semicolons.
She turned the handle carefully, swung the door open, and closed it gently behind her.
The wind hit her hard, stifling her breath for a moment, before she Remove comma. regained control and inhaled the comforting smells of summer at her home. And though she could hardly make out the steps in front of her, she knew where he would be.
She padded across the dew-laced grass, the hem of her nightgown flapping against her ankles. And then she saw his lithe figure against the gray background of the wall of the house. His pale blond hair shone like a beacon even without the moon out tonight. As did his eyes . . . those curiously yellow eyes—the color of saffron—that were just as entrancing as the rest of him.
The warm wind tugging at her heavy braid, she stopped in front of him, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness so she could see his keen features more clearly. The silence between them seemed full of . . . what? I say get rid of the what. Anticipation, expectation, suspense. A gradual building of emotion that seemed to increase as he slowly moved toward her, that eerily serene expression on his pale face.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmured quietly, his eyes perusing her face. His voice was low, husky, whispery. “I’ve been watching you, Anna.”
She swallowed, and felt something blooming in her chest as he reached out and brushed her cheek, feather light, with the back of his hand.
“Come with me,” he said, lacing her fingers with his. He didn’t have to say it twice. She followed him across the lawn, towards the wall of shadow that was the forest bordering her yard. The earth and twigs beneath her feet pricked and stabbed, but it was a wonderful pain. It was a constant reminder that she couldn’t be dreaming.
After a minute or so, the trees became so thick she couldn’t see the stars through the canopy. The wind had calmed down, and she glanced at his profile next to her. His face, so serious and set, made her heart bang against her ribs.
Finally, by an arching willow in a sea of hulking black pines, he stopped and faced her, fixing her with that eerie gaze of his. A stab of longing hit her. She wanted him.
“Anna,” he whispered, touching her face. His hand traveled along her cheek, then down to her jaw, brushing her bottom lip. She inhaled when his fingers reached her neck, tickling her skin with their feather-lightness. His hand fingered her long black curls, which had come out of their plait.
“‘And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, the sweet black waves in the moonlight . . .’” The quote was carried by the wind, fluttering around them both, as Simon lifted a heavy lock to his lips. Her eyes closed. It couldn’t be real.
“Anna,” he whispered again. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes.
“Would you forgive me?”
That was not what she had expected. “What?”
“Whatever I did, or might do, would you forgive me for it?” His face showed his seriousness. “Promise me,” he said now earnestly. “Promise you would forgive me.”
“Yes,” she found herself saying. “Yes, of course.”
And he kissed her. Suddenly his lips were on hers, searching, overpowering. His hands tangled themselves in her hair, and the need for her to connect, to understand him became too much, and she gave herself, completely and utterly, to him.
“Promise . . . promise . . .” he repeated softly, kissing a path down her neck, her arms, the hollow of her throat. Feeling If you use “feeling”, then you leave a thought hanging. like this certainly was a crime; it had to be. She wound her hands in his white blond hair and closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her cheeks as he withdrew slightly.
“Forgive me,” he whispered in her ear, and bent down to her throat.
She screamed.
Pain, excruciating, irrevocable pain was shooting from her neck down her spine, curling up in her toes, writhing in her chest. She felt the blood leaving her in spurts, and his lips were there, against her skin, as he caught the blood and bit harder.
Her scream never ended; it seemed there was fire in her veins, eating away at her flesh, tearing her skin and boiling her blood. The nerves were ripped apart as Simon cut through her skin. It was revolution inside her body. Every muscle, organ, and tissue; every single tormented nerve screamed “NO!” in utter agony. Her pupils dilated, her breath halted in her throat, and an[s]d[/s] icy coldness seize her skin. Her world was sinking into blackness, and she tried to keep it at bay. The smell of her own blood grew stronger and stronger, and it was worse than she ever imagined it.
But it wasn't going to end. And her limbs were f[s]l[/s]ailing, her throat raw from crying, and her heart—once the one thing that strove to keep her alive—now furiously pumped the blood out of her, to Simon.
“Stop, stop, STOP!” she shrieked, clawing at his back like a madwoman.
Too much! The thought was illuminated in the fiery darkness of her mind. It was simple and it was true. Too much pain, too much! Make . . . it . . . stop . . .
. . . please . . .
He did, lifting his head in his usual graceful, nonchalant manner, his mouth dark and dripping. His eyes glowed like embers in a fire, at one time yellow and another time red. [s]and[/s] All she knew was that their color was evil, and she found herself sobbing because she couldn’t find it in herself to hate him.
He let her go. Anna fell to the ground, writhing in the gritty black soil of the forest floor, his fingerprints throbbing on her wrists and legs. Suddenly it was cold – cold! - and the wind had turned chilly, not longer tender and warm. Above her, through the branches and leaves of the trees, a terrible thunder roared, and what little light had been there, had [s]been[/s] left. She looked down at herself; against the white of her nightgown, the blood was black. She reached to stem the flow, but on being touched, the wound burned.
She looked up at Simon, fighting for words.
Why?
But he was busy pulling up the sleeve of his black shirt, up Get rid of the comma. to the elbow. His bare arm shone through the perpetual darkness. His hand went to his pocket, and something gleamed for a moment. She knew what he would do before he did it, and screamed again.
"And for the full effect, my darling . . ."
He brought his wrist to her lips, and she let out a gurgling cry and tried to push it away. But he took a handful of her hair and forced her head back, and the blood that slipped over her tongue and down her throat was blazingly hot. She choked and sputtered, crying furiously, because she wanted more, and refused to believe it. She wondered if anyone had ever been in such pain. What did he just do?
It began to rain just as he pulled away. She had stopped writhing, the pain having gone beyond words, beyond human containment. The rain fell through the canopy above, hitting her as she curled up protectively. The ground beneath her turned to mud, a pool swelling up around her. The darkness was complete now. Not only could she not see, but she didn’t want to see, and that was the worst of all.
Her eyes traveled around wildly, searching for something, anything that could save her.
She could only see him. And her stomach lurched at the sight.
“You are like me now, dearest," he said simply, touching her hair. She managed to flinch feebly away, but he found it amusing. "I’m sorry, my love,” he crooned, still as calm and serene as ever. “Forgive me.”
He was gone.
A cry like a wounded, dying animal escaped her, the horrible, hoarse sound echoing around the empty forest. The sky wept hard, bitter tears that cut into her skin. The fire was dying down now, leaving weak, tattered ashes, the remains of a girl. Of a human. And the pitch black void she had kept at bay so long now lurched up and consumed her. There was no escaping.
This wasn’t just pain. This—this was death.
[/spoiler]


That was really beautifully written. Your handling of words is really exceptional - the entire thing is like one beautiful song. Poetic.
The only thing that sort of bothered me and didn't let me enjoy it entirely was that you seem to have some trouble with punctuation marks... but other than that, all is good.

One thing I will say, though, is that - while it was really beautiful - you need to be really careful with this. Vampire love stories are in their apex as it is, but this was wayy too much like Twilight. The burning sensation when se burned and how he apparently (I think) gave her of his blood to turn her into a vampire. Hmm.

Otherwise, though, really good... and do lemme know when - and if - there's more <3.

»Sam.

Your writing is truly amazing! It's very nice and the story is good. It does remind me of twilight, though. You're very creative, so i know you can make this story a lot more original...
Your descriptions are wonderful, I don't think I've ever read writing as descriptive as yours. The story is very intense and suspenseful, something I learned is great when writing a story. It's also great to have an attention grabber, your title really did that for me...i hope to see more of this if you continue to write.
diaNe

I really, really, loved how you described this. I could really see everything that you were explaining (which means you weren't really explaining at all) and painted a picture. I thought this was oh so fabulous, I was digging the foreshadowing until..


The cat came out of the bag.
A vampire story.
Now, I'm not going to put you down for the fact that I, myself, overdid the whole Twilight thing and have washed away the awesome novelty of vampires from my brain..
Because it was so nicely written.
Good job. ))

Hello 200397, it’s lilymoore and I’ve finally gotten to my review of your contest submission (took me long enough, huh) but I’m here finally and ready to get this done. Long story short, ended the contest the week before school let out meaning finals, finals, finals! But now, on to the reviewing.

seemed [s]a[/s] void

That little bitty ‘a’ damaged a fine sentence.

It was far too nice a night for tragedy.

Because this is just a short story, adding very blunt foreshadowing is acceptable. Anyway, I’m not completely sure as to why I’m mentioning it but I thought I should because it’s something that most people do incorrectly.

It was a soft, quiet sound, the clink…

The warm wind tugging at her heavy braid,

If you changed ‘tugging’ to ‘tugged’ you could make this into its own sentence.

…lacing her fingers with his.

Using the word ‘with’ kills this sentence. Try replacing ‘with’ with another word that has more description like ‘within’ or ‘around’.

His angular face, so serious and set, made her heart bang against her ribs.

I like this description. It isn’t too overdone nor is it too bland. It’s a good blend of description and action.

…with that eerie gaze of his.

Perhaps rewrite this so it reads: with his eerie gaze. The way it reads now disrupts from the tone of the story.

“Whatever I did, or might do, would you forgive me for it?” His face showed his seriousness; he’d never been one to beat around the bush. “Promise me,” he said now earnestly. “Promise you would forgive me.”

This is another wonderful section. The dialogue is constructed beautifully and the word choice is wonderful.

Pain, excruciating, irrevocable pain was shooting from her neck down her spine, curling up in her toes, writhing in her chest. She felt the blood leaving her in spurts, and his lips were there, against her skin, as he caught the blood and bit harder.
Her scream never ended; there was fire, fire in her veins, eating away at her flesh, tearing her skin and boiling her blood. It was revolution inside her body. Every muscle, organ, tissue, every single tormented nerve screamed “NO!” in utter agony. Her pupils dilated, her breath halted in her throat, and and icy coldness seize her body. Her world was sinking into blackness, and she tried to keep it at bay. The smell of her own blood grew stronger and stronger, and it was worse than she ever imagined it.
But it wasn't going to end. And her limbs were flailing, her throat raw from crying, and her heart—once the one thing that strove to keep her alive—now furiously pumped the blood out of her, to Simon.

I have to say that this is one of the best “A-Vampire-is-Biting-Me” descriptions I’ve read on the site. It’s full of vibrant detail and it really is constructed wonderfully.

A cry like a wounded, dying animal escaped her, the horrible, hoarse sound echoing around the empty forest. The sky wept hard, bitter tears that cut into her skin. The fire was dying down now, leaving weak, tattered ashes, the remains of a girl. Of a human. And the pitch black void she had kept at bay so long now lurched up and consumed her. There was no escaping.
This wasn’t just pain. This—this was death.

I have to say once again that this section evokes a wonderful sense of emotion and pain. Very good.

Overall, this was a wonderfully written piece though by far not the most original. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t good. Vampires have become a major theme lately and it’s because the modern vampire often evokes a general sense of sexuality and lust as opposed to the beasts that were once the focus of such dark legends.

The story did take a while to pick up but that was possibly because I didn’t know what to expect. Still, It was good once the whole “VAMPIRE!” thing was discovered.

Be sure to check the contest thread soon to find out the results.

The beginning was ok. You need to show the setting and bring the charaters in a lot quicker. I was amazed at some of the detail, and I like it. When explaining how she or he felt try to make analogies that would explain how others could relate. I don't think it is like Twilight at all( although I am a huge lover of the series). Your charaters seem like they are a lot older, and have old legends that would explain many things aobout them. Keep up the good work!