z

Young Writers Society


When Your Heart Beats (A short excerpt)



User avatar
139 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 6358
Reviews: 139
Mon Dec 12, 2011 1:05 am
SwallowedByInsanity says...



A hard smack across the face sent me stumbling backwards against the wall. I shrieked out in shock and pain as my fingertips instinctively went to my cheek and grazed over the sensitive skin. He stared down at his hand in surprise as well, as if he were shocked by his own rage.
A few slow tears escaped the corners of my eyes and fell down the stinging skin of my cheeks.
“You’re an animal.” I spat out before slamming the door shut in his face and leaving him behind forever.
I had no idea where I’d been heading, but anywhere was better than there. I wound up curling up into a ball and dozing off on a bench in a nearby park. He never found me, and I’m certain he never even bothered searching…
I woke up to see a man standing over me, a worried look on his face.
“Blake…?” I mumbled out sleepily, my eyes glossed over with exhaustion.
“Yes Vee, it’s Blake. You were crying in your sleep again.” He said with a sigh, his eyes clouded with sadness. He always worried too much over my nightmares, and I always refused to tell him what they were about. It was just something that happened in the past… something done and over with. It wasn’t a part of my life now.
My name is Vanessa Amber Jones, but everyone just calls me Vee. I live in a house in Stratford, Ontario with my best friend Blake. The house is a little small, but we make out okay. I work at Starbucks, but mainly I’m an author. Unfortunately, my salary isn’t exactly sky high so I live off ramen noodles for the most part.
Blake works as a schoolteacher in the local elementary school, he teaches 1st graders and special education kids. He isn’t currently with anybody, although he keeps mentioning there’s a girl he’s really interested in.
I don’t like to poke around in his business, but if he ever settled down I’d probably have to squeeze into a cheaper apartment and live alone. I don’t tell him this though, if he wanted to be with this woman he loves, who am I to stop him?
“Sorry, guess it was just a bad dream…” I muttered under my breath, hoping he would drop it and not press for me to spill more information.
“Damn Vee, that’s the third one this week. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Maybe if you just let it out, it won’t bother you as much. Come on Vee, don’t be so down, it’s Christmas.” Blake said to me, there was a look of sadness in his eyes as he stared down at me. I was nestled between the folds of the sheets, cowering back from the lingering thoughts of my nightmare.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Do you want some breakfast?” I asked gingerly, a fake smile twisted on my pale lips. He sighed and looked down, dismissing the topic though I could tell he was still worried about me.
“I already made something, thanks.” He turned away to return back to his bedroom, coffee mug in hand, when suddenly a wave of recollection came over his features. “I almost forgot to mention, there’s a letter for you that came in the mail. I left it on the counter, it’s probably just a Christmas card.” He said, grinning as he brought the mug to his lips. He then exited the room in the same manner he had come, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
After pondering it for a few moments, I came to the conclusion that I would eventually have to slump out of my bed sheets and open that damn letter. The kitchen tile was cold against my feet as I walked, my toes curling up in my socks as I came to a stop at the counter.
Scrawled in tight, messy letters, all bent to one side, read:
“For Vannessa Jones”
I sighed and questioned if my mother had finally tipped off the iceberg and was really losing her head. She must’ve forgotten to address it and write her name on the return address. I wondered how she’d managed to get it here if there was no address written on it while my fingers fumbled with the seal.
I finally broke it open, and my eyes cast down on it in a moment of astonishment and horror.
The name at the bottom of the letter read…
“Justin”
My fingertips began to shake profusely, the whole letter becoming wrinkled as my hands trembled. Before I knew it, I was trembling all over, my body sliding down to the floor, that horrible piece of paper sitting in my lap like a death sentence; far more petrifying than a serial killer's diary.

This piece is not yet finished! I just wanted some people's opinions about what they though of it thus far.
Love is a poison, but it is also the antidote.

The insanity at my fingertips is not even slightly coherent.
  





User avatar
38 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 2117
Reviews: 38
Mon Dec 12, 2011 6:21 am
starrgazer says...



I think it's pretty good so far. You did a good job of drawing readers in with the first paragraph.

So is this the first part of your novel? If so, you may want to weave in their descriptions before you get the the overall story first. Also, give a little more description in the paragraph when you describe her. Why is she living with Blake? What does the house look like? Give a little more detail on the character so we could get to know her better. Remember we know nothing about these two, so state the obvious.

I also likes the ending of the excerpt; it left the readers curious and wanting more. Its going great so far so keep up the good work :)
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade

Pffffft, yeah right...fat lot of help sour lemon juice would do. When life also throws me a bag of sugar, then we'll start talking.

:)
  





User avatar
22 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1710
Reviews: 22
Mon Dec 12, 2011 11:47 pm
View Likes
Silver says...



Hm, this is an interesting story. It's a bit hard to critique because the style reminds me so much of my own, but it'll be a nice challenge. So, in general, I do really like it but after the dream part it gets a little... boring. Perhaps during the dream you use more surreal phrasing and describe things more. Also, SAID IS YOUR FRIEND.

A hard smack across the face sent me stumbling backwards against the wall. I shrieked out in shock and pain as my fingertips instinctively went to my cheek and grazed, grazing over the sensitive skin. He stared down at his hand in surprise as well, as if he were shocked by his own rage.

A few slow tears escaped the corners of my eyes and fell down the stinging skin of my cheeks. “You’re an animal.” I spat out at him before slamming the door shut in his face and leaving him behind forever.

I had no idea where I’d been headingI would go, but anywhere was better than there.I wound up curling up into a ball and dozing off on a bench in a nearby park. He never found me, and I’m certain he never even bothered searchinglooking.


Alright, so you do a very good job describing what the narrator is feeling, but some of that should be implied. I think you need to do a little bit more showing here, rather than telling.

I woke up to see a man standing over me, a worried look on his face. Give me more of the sudden wake-up. What is the narrator feeling? How is she reacting?

“Blake…?” I mumbled out sleepily, my eyes glossed over with exhaustion. Here, I would give the struggle that the narrator goes through trying to open her eyes, rather than saying their glazed over with exhaustion.

“Yes Vee I would have a little term of endearment here instead of 'Vee'. It makes the dialogue sound more realistic, it’s Blake. You were crying in your sleep again.,he said with a sigh, his eyes clouded with sadness eyes don't really cloud with sadness. Perhaps describe how is eyelids were drooping, how he was frowning, and maybe even how his eyes clouded with /tears/. Otherwise they wouldn't really be clouded.... He always worried too much over my nightmares, and I always refused to tell him what they were about. It was just something that happened in the past… something done and over with. It wasn’t a part of my life now.

Your dialogue is pretty good, though it could use a little work

My name is Vanessa Amber Jones, but everyone just calls me Vee. I live in a house in Stratford, Ontario with my best friend Blake. The house is a little small, but we make out okay. I work at Starbucks, but mainly I’m an author. Unfortunately, my salary isn’t exactly sky high so I live off ramen noodles for the most part.

I would connect this to the last paragraph. 'This life, I'm Vanessa Jones. My friends call me Vee. I live in Ontario with my best friend of (insert years here) Blake. I work at Starbucks and write. Unfortunately, my salaries for both of these jobs aren't exceptional, so I tend to live off ramen noodles.' Just a suggestion.
Blake works as a schoolteacher in the local elementary school, he teaches 1st graders and special education kids. He isn’t currently with anybody, although he keeps mentioning there’s a girl he’s really interested in.

I don’t like to poke around in his business, but if he ever settled down I’d probably have to squeeze into a cheaper apartment and live alone. I don’t tell him this though, if he wanted to be with this woman he loves, who am I to stop him?

I like these paragraphs okay.

“Sorry, guess it was just a bad dream…” I muttered under my breath, hoping he would drop it and not press for me to spillme for more information.

“Damn, Vee, that’s the third one this week. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Maybe if you just let it out, it won’t bother you as much. Come on Vee, don’t be so down, it’s almost? Christmas.” Blake said to me, there was a look of sadness in his eyes as he stared down at meyou've said this before. Come up with something new.. I was nestled between the folds of the sheets, cowering back from the lingering thoughts of my nightmare.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Do you want some breakfast?” I asked gingerly, a fake smile twisted on my pale lips. He sighed and looked down, dismissing the topicthough I could tell he was still worried about me[/s ] though he bit his lip [or something], betraying that he was still worried about me.

You jump right from her describing herself to this section. Maybe find a little bit of a transition? It it's Christmas, shouldn't they be wishing each other Merry Christmas and such?

“I already made something, thanks.” He turned away to return [s]back to his bedroom, coffee mug in hand, when suddenly a wave of recollection came over his features HOW SO?. “I almost forgot to mention Oh, there’s a letter for youthat came in the mail where else would a letter come?. I left it on the counter; it’s probably just a Christmas card.” He said, grinning as he brought the mug to his lips. He then exited the room in the same manner he had come, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

After pondering it for a few moments, I came to the conclusion that I would eventually have to slump crawl, or the like out of my bed sheets and open that damn letter. The kitchen tile was cold against my feet as I walked, and my toes curling up in my socks as I came to a stop at the counter.

Scrawled in tight, messy letters, all bent to one side, read:
“For Vannessa Jones”

I sighed and questioned wondered if my mother had finally tipped off the iceberg and was really losing her head. She must’ve forgotten to address it and write her name on the return address. I wondered how she’d managed to get it here if there was no address written on it while my fingers fumbled with the seal. Eh... I like the subject of this paragraph, but it's not very well written. I would suggest describing the envelope a little more, don't just come in with 'she forgot the address'.

I finally broke it open, and my eyes cast down on it in a moment of astonishment and horror. The name at the bottom of the letter read “Justin”.

My fingertips began to shake profusely, the whole letter becoming wrinkledas my hands trembledredundant. Before I knew it, I was trembling all over, my body sliding down to the floor, that horrible piece of paper sitting in my lap like a death sentence; far more petrifying than a serial killer's diary.


Ooh, loving the ending! These are just my suggestions; you don't have to take them. In all your piece was quite good, but there were a few things I would change and I would use more showing versus telling. I hope I helped! Thanks for sharing, and keep writing!
Defying Normality: The Wicked Witch of Insanity
  





User avatar
139 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 6358
Reviews: 139
Tue Dec 13, 2011 12:48 am
SwallowedByInsanity says...



Thank you Silver for the great feedback, your review was very detailed and gave me the kind of editing I'd been hoping for (:
The other students at my school usually just notice that it has a few big words, claim it's genius, and toss it aside. I'm glad you took the time to fix my grammar, and especially to give me some incite on how to spice up the piece! I'll be editing and re-uploading as soon as I can.
Love is a poison, but it is also the antidote.

The insanity at my fingertips is not even slightly coherent.
  





User avatar
114 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 5391
Reviews: 114
Tue Dec 13, 2011 5:41 am
Priceless says...



Hi there!
Can I just say I love your title? I don't know why, I just do. It's so cool. :D

Great job on the first few paragraphs, they caught my attention quick, you jumped straight into the action.

The house is a little small, but we make out okay.


Might wanna use something different since here, since 'make out' is slang for kissing and stuff. Looks funny ;)

“Damn Vee, that’s the third one this week. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Maybe if you just let it out, it won’t bother you as much. Come on Vee, don’t be so down, it’s Christmas.


To me, this seems a bit random and disconnected from the rest of what he's saying. It's like you tried to force a Christmas line in. *shrug*

He turned away to return back to his bedroom, coffee mug in hand, when suddenly a wave of recollection came over his features.


This seems a bit too flowery just for remembering that she had a letter.

far more petrifying than a serial killer's diary.


I love the last paragraph, except for this part. I don't know why, I just don't like it. You don't have to remove it though, maybe it's just me but meh.

Yeah, so overall, this was awesome! Your writing style was clear and easy to read. Your dialogue was very realistic, and I look forward to reading more. :) Keep writing!
We're all a little weird. And life's a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.
  





User avatar
228 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 4495
Reviews: 228
Wed Dec 14, 2011 7:46 am
Meep(: says...



Hello!
Your piece has been rather extensively critiqued, so I don't have much room left. Anyway, I was wondering if you plan to make this part of a novella/novel or something? If so, then:
My name is Vanessa Amber Jones, but everyone just calls me Vee. I live in a house in Stratford, Ontario with my best friend Blake. The house is a little small, but we make out okay. I work at Starbucks, but mainly I’m an author. Unfortunately, my salary isn’t exactly sky high so I live off ramen noodles for the most part.

Blake works as a schoolteacher in the local elementary school, he teaches 1st graders and special education kids. He isn’t currently with anybody, although he keeps mentioning there’s a girl he’s really interested in.

I'd be rather iffy with this. It's an epic info dump that you can expand on by spreading it out through the novel with scenes (e.g: slaving away at Starbucks/returning home to type away at the computer). Basically more 'showing' than 'telling'.
I liked the dialogue between Blake & Vee though. Brings out the depth of their friendship. So good job!
~Meep(:
~Liverpool F.C Supporter~
"You'll never walk alone"
  








Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
— John Milton (Poet)