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Sophia
1.


I must admit, out of all the things my mother has done, this ought to be the worst. A lot of things have happened over the past six months and have not had a good effect on her mood. In six months, guess how many schools I’ve attended? Four in the last six months. It’s not that I don’t get good grades, my Mum knows that. It’s the fact that ever since she divorced my dad, she could never find a place that she liked and that she could cope with the concept of calling it “home”. So now, she has come up with what she calls “the best idea for me.” which is living with my Dad down in Cornwall.

I understand why she’s doing it though, I guess its because she doesn’t want me to have to live the life that she’s living now. I think she wants me to live with dad, so that I can finally call his place home. Which, I’ve come to appreciate because I hated the whole “pack up and move” routine that became such a frequent thing after the divorce.

The six hour car journey is almost over. The sky begins to clear as the rain slowly goes into a halt. The sun begins to peek out of the clouds and out of the car window, I see a rainbow appear. When we pass to forest like scenery, it feels like I am entering an abyss of emerald green.

I smile. I’ve never told Mum this, but I’ve missed this house, since it was my home, up until I was twelve and held so many memories that I tend to clutch onto every now and again. The good thing, I just turned eighteen last month, so that means that I can come here whenever I like, since Mum only had custody of me until I was eighteen. I guess she timed it perfectly.

We end up another few feet down the road until the car comes to a halt. I stare at Mum out of the corner of my eye. “Mum, surely this can’t be Dad’s house. I don’t see a single house in sight.”
“That’s because your Dad’s car is parked up in the space at the front, so that means, I have to park at the back.”
I give her an accepting smile, push the door open and step on to the pavement. I watch her open the boot. “Seriously, Sophia.” She drags one suitcase out. “Two suitcases?”
“Well, one suitcase wouldn’t have been big enough.”
“It was the largest one in the store when we bought it!” She drops one suitcase on the pavement as she continues to pull out the next.
“Mum?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the pavement.
“What, hun?” She asks with a sigh, her exhaustion displayed within her tone.
“Why isn’t Holly coming?” I ask.
“You know full well why.” She says with the tone of “We’ve had this conversation one million times.”

I see a man appearing from the behind the bushes that disguise the cottages existence. He is aging, yet, he still looks young. He has the smile that I always loved about him. He was always so happy, even in the worst of times.
“Sophia!” He laughs, wrapping me in one of his suffocating bear hugs. That’s what I loved about Dad. Nothing ever changed with him. He always makes a fuss over you if you stay over and he greets you like its been the first time in years that he has seen you.

“Where’s Joey?” I ask. Joey was the Japanese Akita we had when I was ten. I remember when we bought him. Mum always said she never wanted a dog in our home because she was too house proud, but the minute she saw Joey’s little face, all the things she said about being house proud went out the window.
“He’s out on the drive, laying in the sun. Unlike me, he likes the sun’s rays upon his face.” He laughs.
I begin to follow the footpath which leads to my Dad’s back porch. I open the door which the footpath takes me to and I see everything that I missed about this place. The way the kitchen always smelt of blueberry pancakes, the way you could hear the waves crashing on the shore from afar. (Yes, this is also a positive thing in the summer, because the beach is only in walking distance.) Also, that when the windows were open your windows in the morning, you can smell the sea breeze. That, I guess, was the main turnoff for me when we moved to London, the air was always polluted because of public transport or for that matter, even personal transport. You never smelt the fresh air. I walk through the hallway which leads to the front door, and as I open it, I see Joey pouncing towards me.
I smile. “Hey buddy.”

Then, I hear my Dad trailing behind us, whilst still continuing a conversation with my Mum, reluctantly.
“So, you make sure she doesn’t get in any trouble at school. Make sure everything is the way it should be.”
“Yes, Maria.” He says, rolling his eyes and I smile, stroking Joey.
“You look after her for me.” Mum says, demandingly.
“Agreed.” Dad smiles. “Now, if you don’t get going soon, you’re gonna get caught in the rush of traffic.”
Mum agrees, rushes over to me, hugs me and tells me that I have to call her with any interesting things that happen at school or in my social life. She leaves soon after.

Later on that evening, Dad is cooking his specialty which is Spaghetti and Meatballs. I sit and observe whilst sitting on the stool that is situated next to the island in the kitchen. “Hey Dad?”
“Oh hey sweet pea.” He turns to me, still stirring the pasta.
“Do you know why Mum sent me here?” I ask, curiously.
“I have a pretty good idea, but I’m sure your gonna tell me.” He laughs.
“What do you think it’s about?” I ask.
“I thought it was about your grades?” He says, piling the spaghetti on my plate.
“Oh please, I don’t stay in one school long enough to receive a progress report.” I smile lightly.
“Sophia.” He gives me a stern look.
“What?” I say, boldly.
“It hasn’t been easy for either of us these past few years. Your Mum is just-” I cut him off.
“Trying to find what’s right for her. I know, I know. I’ve heard this all before. But what about what’s right for Holly and I? Hey, were to we come into this equation?”
“Sophia.” He repeats.
“What?!” My eyes start to well up. “This was home. This was right. Mum tries to make everything like it was back when I was a kid, but it’s not because a family, is never a family without a father, and she destroyed the concept of family for me and Holly when she walked out on you.”
He sighs, “Eat some spaghetti, let’s change the subject.”
“I’m not hungry.” I say, storming upstairs.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“To my bedroom.” I say, angrily, but my eyes filling up with tears.
“First door on the right!” He calls after me.
“I remember.” I call back.

Constructive criticism is encouraged.
Thank you to Gladius for helping me flesh out this story.
Last edited by Maisie on Sun Apr 18, 2010 9:10 pm, edited 3 times in total.




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I really like this it had a good beginning. I would have just liked it a bit more if there was more of a space between each sentence because it made it hard to read. Other than that...I like it. :D
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I have to say that I realy liked it. I don't think you had any grammar mistakes, but just for sure read over your work. I too think that you should space it out more, it was hard to read(but that's a minor thing). I really want to read more of this:)

(Could you review my story Forever&Always? )
Here's the link ----> topic62225.html

Thanks. Keep up with the writing. I'm looking forwards to reading more of this:) You should totaly continue with it:)

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"How do you escape from yourself?"
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^Thank you so much!

And sure, I'd be delighted to critique your story.




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I spaced it out as much as I thought was needed.

I am going to write the second chapter tomorrow.




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Alright, just a few quick things I noticed!

1. Spacing

The neat thing about this site (and one of the bazillion reasons why everyone here is indebted to the awesome King Nate) is the formatting option at the bottom of the post-preview page. If you go in to 'edit' on the post with the chapter and scroll down to the bottom of the page, you'll see a 'Formatting' section with three buttons: Default, Story, and Poem. Click story, and it'll automatically give you the space-after-every-paragraph formatting. Neat, huh? :D This will make it SO much easier on the eyes, with minimal effort from you.

2. Paragraphing.

You got a bit of the syndrome one of my friends has; I call it 'run-on paragraphs'. There are multiple places where you can break those huge chunks of text into smaller bits that flow more-smoothly. Some are obvious, but others just help manage the flow a little better; subtle, but it can make a big difference in the reading. As my English teacher says, paragraphing asks/tells the readers, "Did you get that? Ok, next!"

A few examples:

Maisie wrote:I understand why she’s doing it though, I guess its because she doesn’t want me to have to live the life that she’s living now. I think she wants me to live with dad, so that I can finally call his place home. Which, I’ve come to appreciate because I hated the whole “pack up and move” routine that became such a frequent thing after the divorce. BREAK The six hour car journey is almost over. The sky begins to clear as the rain slowly goes into a halt. The sun begins to peek out of the clouds and out of the car window, I see a rainbow appear. possible BREAK I smile. I’ve never told Mum this, but I’ve missed this house, since it was my home, up until I was twelve and held so many memories that I tend to clutch onto every now and again. The good thing, I just turned eighteen last month, so that means that I can come here whenever I like, since Mum only had custody of me until I was eighteen. I guess she timed it perfectly.


I'd cite another paragraph of yours here, but I think you have the paragraphs for it already; they're just not obvious 'cause they're not spaced apart like this post is. The previous point I made will help with this, too, making the story a lot clearer to your reader. :)

I think those are the biggest editing points at the moment. There are some grammar issues and nitpicks I'd go through and fix, but I'm too lazy at the moment. :oops:

I like where this is going so far, though it's a bit of a skeleton draft at the moment. I'd like to know a little more about the house and the area where she'll be living for next however long until she moves out, for example (what description you did have of it was somewhat confusing, especially when they first arrived). Adding more depth from the place you see in your mind to the description on the paper really helps something come alive in a reader's mind.

Also, the beginning description feels a little rushed. I think it has a lot of potential if you slow it down; maybe use phrases like "I stare out at the blurred scenery, not taking it in even though my eyes register the movement. I am buried too deep in my resentment and brooding thoughts to notice as the rolling hills become blanketed with an ancient English forest. 'Somewhere ahead,' I think, 'is _insert expectations here_'." It's really just a matter of blending development with scenery-building, I guess you could say, and learning to utilize the show-not-tell style of writing.

As for characterization, I think you did a good job introducing Sophia, but not so good with the discussion with her dad at the dinner table. It sounded forced and somewhat out-of-character from what we know about Sophia already. For another, we don't know much at all about the father yet other than the few points we get from Sophia's PoV. I suggest going through that and, like with the beginning, slowing it down a bit. Show us something of what's going on in Sophia's head, not just stating what she says with no motivation behind it.

This is a good start! I can't wait to see what happens when she goes to school. :D

Maisie wrote:Thank you to Gladius for helping me flesh out this story.

Aaw, thanks for the shout-out. ^_^ *huggles* Anytime, friend, anytime. ^_^
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Hi Masie. I am here as promised. I am loving this story till now. You are painting a very good picture for the reader. Its interesting me a lot.

I must admit, out of all the things my mother has done, this ought to be the worst. A lot of things have happened over the past six months and have not had a good effect on her mood. In six months, guess how many schools I’ve attended? Four in the last six months.(Don't put a full stop instead use exclamatory sign) It’s not that I don’t get good grades, my Mum knows that. It’s the fact that ever since she divorced my dad, she could never find a place that she liked and that she could cope up with the concept of calling it “home”. So now, she has come up with what she calls “the best idea for me.(no full stop needed)” which is living with my Dad down in Cornwall.

I understand why she’s doing it though, I guess its because she doesn’t want me to have to live the life that she’s living now. I think she wants me to live with dad, so that I can finally call his place home. Which, I’ve come to appreciate because I hated the whole “pack up and move” routine that became such a frequent thing after the divorce.

The six hour car journey is almost over. The sky begins to clear as the rain slowly goes into a halt. The sun begins to peek out of the clouds and out of the car window, I see a rainbow appear. When we pass the forest like scenery, it feels like I am entering an abyss of emerald green.

I smile. I’ve never told Mum this, but I’ve missed this house, since it was my home, up until I was twelve and held so many memories that I tend to clutch onto every now and again then(now and then is a proper phrase to use). The good thing, I just turned eighteen last month, so that means that I can come here whenever I like, since Mum only had custody of me until I was eighteen. I guess she timed it perfectly.

We end up another few feet down the road until the car comes to an halt. I stare at Mum out of the corner of my eye. “Mum, surely this can’t be Dad’s house. I don’t see a single house in sight.”
“That’s because your Dad’s car is parked up in the space at the front, so that means, I have to park at the back.”
I give her an accepting smile, push the door open and step on to the pavement. I watch her open the boot. “Seriously, Sophia.” She drags one suitcase out. “Two suitcases?”
“Well, one suitcase wouldn’t have been big enough.”
“It was the largest one in the store when we bought it!” She drops one suitcase on the pavement as she continues to pull out the next.
“Mum?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the pavement.
“What, hun (It either should be huh or hon. Latter one if you want to use honey's abbreviation)?” She asks with a sigh, her exhaustion displayed within her tone.
“Why isn’t Holly coming?” I ask.
“You know fully well why.” She says with the tone of “We’ve had this conversation one million times.”

I see a man appearing from the behind the bushes that disguise the cottages existence. He is aging, yet, he still looks young. He has the smile that I always loved about him. He was always so happy, even in the worst of times.
“Sophia!” He laughs, wrapping me in one of his suffocating bear hugs. That’s what I loved about Dad. Nothing ever changed with him. He always makes a fuss over you if you stay over and he greets you like its been the first time in years that he has seen you.

“Where’s Joey?” I ask. Joey was the Japanese Akita we had when I was ten. I remember when we bought him. Mum always said she never wanted a dog in our home because she was too house proud, but the minute she saw Joey’s little face, all the things she said about being house proud went out the window.
“He’s out on the drive, laying Its not what should be used dear. Use basking in the sun. in the sun. Unlike me, he likes the sun’s rays upon his face.” He laughs.
I begin to follow the footpath which leads to my Dad’s back porch. I open the door which the footpath takes me to and I see everything that I missed about this place. The way the kitchen always smelt of blueberry pancakes, the way you could hear the waves crashing on the shore from afar. (Yes, this is also a positive thing in the summer, because the beach is only in walking distance.) Also, that when the windows were open your windows in the morning, There's some thing repeating itself here. try to look at the sentence construction. you can smell the sea breeze. That, I guess, was the main turnoff for me when we moved to London, the air was always polluted because of public transport or for that matter, even personal transport. You could never smelt smell the fresh air. I walk through the hallway which leads to the front door, and as I open it, I see Joey pouncing towards me.
I smile. “Hey buddy.”

Then, I hear my Dad trailing behind us, whilst still continuing a conversation with my Mum, reluctantly.
“So, you make sure she doesn’t get in any trouble at school. Make sure everything is the way it should be.”
“Yes, Maria.” He says, rolling his eyes and I smile, stroking Joey.
“You look after her for me.” Mum says, demandingly.
“Agreed.” Dad smiles. “Now, if you don’t get going soon, you’re gonna get caught in the rush of traffic.”
Mum agrees, rushes over to me, hugs me and tells me that I have to call her with any interesting things that happen at school or in my social life. She leaves soon after.

Later on that evening, Dad is cooking his specialty which is Spaghetti and Meatballs. I sit and observe whilst sitting on the stool that is situated next to the island in the kitchen. “Hey Dad?”
“Oh hey sweet pea.” He turns to me, still stirring the pasta.
“Do you know why Mum sent me here?” I ask, curiously.
“I have a pretty good idea, but I’m sure your you're gonna tell me.” He laughs.
“What do you think it’s about?” I ask.
“I thought it was about your grades?” He says, piling the spaghetti on my plate.
“Oh please, I don’t stay in one school long enough to receive a progress report.” I smile lightly.
“Sophia.” He gives me a stern look.
“What?” I say, boldly.
“It hasn’t been easy for either of us these past few years. Your Mum is just-” I cut him off.
“Trying to find what’s right for her. I know, I know. I’ve heard this all before. But what about what’s right for Holly and I me? Hey, were to we come into this equation?”
“Sophia.” He repeats.
“What?!” My eyes start to swell up. “This was home. This was right. Mum tries to make everything like it was back when I was a kid, but it’s not because a family, is never a family without a father, and she destroyed the concept of family for me and Holly when she walked out on you.”
He sighs, “Eat some spaghetti, let’s change the subject.”
“I’m not hungry.” I say, storming upstairs.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“To my bedroom.” I say, angrily, but my eyes filling up with tears.
“First door on the right!” He calls after me.
“I remember.” I call back.


Characters: Sophia seems a bit kiddish. I know she's upset and all but make me look at her as an adult as she is eighteen now. I don't mean don't show here frustration but make her look adult.
Grammar: I think your language is just not British English which we're supposed to post here. Like for example you write you are like your. I've seen many others do the same mistake here.
You but exactly know where to use periods which is rare here and I am also not too good at it. :lol:

PM me when you come up with more. PLEASE PM.
Hope my review helped. PM me if you would like anything to be clarified.
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Hi there! Sorry it took me so long to review,
First off

Impressive. This was enjoyable and easy to read, so good job! There are a few issues which I shall point out now. I will not nitpick because lots of people already have.

Story/flow

Okay, this is interesting! It seems that you could get a lot of things going for a plot here. It flows nicely, and it was pretty grammatically correct. I don't know much about the plot yet so I can't comment here.

Characters

The main character seems MUCH younger than she actually is. In the beginning, I thought she was around thirteen or so, maybe younger. Work on developing an older voice, that, or make her younger. I don't know if making her younger would effect the story though.

Grammar and composition

Not much to say here because everyone pointed it out! I would like it if you started a new paragraph every time someone new speaks, because right now it looks like a block of text.

OVERALL:

Very good job. This was fun to read. Work on your paragraph structure so it looks more presentable. Make the MC sound older. Perhaps make the reason why the mother is dropping off her daughter more understandable. Other than that, good job.
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Wow, I really liked that so far. Of course there is always room for improvement but I thought it was good! Kepp going, I'll be looking forward to read more!
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This is a nice interdouction. I love the beginning and the plot of it. However, it seems that you'r painting the girl to be a little younger then she actually is. She's 18, she would've grown up from acting like that.

Otherwise, it's pretty good. I love how you describe, but don't spend so much time on describing it. It's really good.

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Hey. This is good. You should continue with it. But as previously mentioned Sophia acts quite chilish. And I did notice a few misspelled words. And I do agree that you need to space it out more. Other than that it was good.
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This is starting out really great! You've got me curious about the mom, and wondering what's going on that they have to move so much--and about Holly. Keep going!

Now comes the criticism part of "constructive criticism."

You wrote:

I must admit, out of all the things my mother has done, this ought to be the worst. A lot of things have happened over the past six months and have not had a good effect on her mood. In six months, guess how many schools I’ve attended? Four in the last six months. (You already stated "six months" in the sentence before it--also, if you added an exlamation point at the end, it might show more emphasis on the craziness of her statement) It’s not that I don’t get good grades, my Mum<- doesn't need to capitalized because you have "my" in front of it. knows that. It’s the fact that ever since she divorced my dad, she could never find a place that she liked and that she could cope with the concept of calling it “home”. So now, she has come up with what she calls “the best idea for me.”(lose the period) which is living with my Dad<- no capital down in Cornwall.

I understand why she’s doing it though, I guess its because she doesn’t want me to have to live the life that she’s living now. I think she wants me to live with dad<- this needs to be capitalized, so that I can finally call his place home. Which, I’ve come to appreciate because I hated the whole “pack up and move” routine that became such a frequent thing after the divorce.

The six hour car journey is almost over. The sky begins to clear as the rain slowly goes into a halt. The sun begins to peek out of the clouds and out of the car window, (maybe insert an "and" right here) I see a rainbow appear. When we pass to through forest like scenery, it feels like I am entering an abyss of emerald green. <- Great descriptors!

I smile. I’ve never told Mum this, but I’ve missed this house, since it was my home, up until I was twelve and held so many memories that I tend to clutch onto every now and again. <- Sorry, but this is hard for me to read in one swoop--rephrase. The good thing, I just turned eighteen last month, so that means that I can come here whenever I like, since Mum only had custody of me until I was eighteen. I guess she timed it perfectly.

We end up another few feet down the road until and the car comes to a halt. I stare at Mum out of the corner of my eye. “Mum, surely this can’t be Dad’s house.? I don’t see a single house in sight.”
“That’s because your Dad’s <- no capital car is parked up in the space at the front, so that means, (lose the comma) I have to park at the back.”
I give her an accepting smile, push the door open and step on to the pavement. I watch her open the boot. <- maybe you could rephrase, using more description of the mom walking to the back and opening the boot--just so you don't start too many sentences with "I" “Seriously, Sophia.” She drags one suitcase out. “Two suitcases?”
“Well, one suitcase wouldn’t have been big enough.”
“It was the largest one in the store when we bought it!” She drops one suitcase on the pavement as she continues to pull out the next.
“Mum?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the pavement.
“What, hun?” She she asks with a sigh, her exhaustion displayed within her tone.
“Why isn’t Holly coming?” I ask. <-not necessary.
“You know full well why.,She she says with the tone of “We’ve had this conversation one million times.”

I see a man appearing from the behind the bushes that disguise the cottages <- it's possessive, not plural. Add an apostraphe. existence. He is aging, yet, he still looks young. He has the smile that I always loved about him. He was always so happy, even in the worst of times.
“Sophia!” He laughs, wrapping me in one of his suffocating bear hugs. That’s what I loved about Dad. Nothing ever changed with him. He always makes a fuss over you if you stay over and he greets you like its been the first time in years that he has seen you.

“Where’s Joey?” I ask. Joey was the Japanese Akita we had when I was ten. I remember when we bought him. Mum always said she never wanted a dog in our home because she was too house proud, but the minute she saw Joey’s little face, all the things she said about being house proud went out the window.
“He’s out on the drive, laying in the sun. Unlike me, he likes the sun’s rays upon his face.” He laughs.
I begin to follow the footpath which leads to my Dad’s <- no capital back porch. I open the door which the footpath takes me to and I see everything that I missed about this place. The way the kitchen always smelt of blueberry pancakes, the way you could hear the waves crashing on the shore from afar. (Yes, this is also a positive thing in the summer, because the beach is only in walking distance.) <- this could just be me, but I haven't read any books where the person talking paraphrases their thoughts with parentheses. Just make it a normal part of her dialogue. Also, that when the windows were open your windows in the morning, you can smell the sea breeze. That, I guess, was the main turnoff turn-off for me when we moved to London,. <- end the sentence, start a new one. the The air was always polluted because of public transport or for that matter, even personal transport. You never smelt the fresh air. I walk through the hallway which leads to the front door, and as I open it, I see Joey pouncing towards me.
I smile. “Hey, (insert comma) buddy.”

Then, I hear my Dad trailing behind us, whilst still continuing a conversation with my Mum, reluctantly.
“So, you make sure she doesn’t get in any trouble at school. Make sure everything is the way it should be.”
“Yes, Maria., (insert comma)” He <-no capital says, rolling his eyes and I smile, stroking Joey.
“You look after her for me., (insert comma)” Mum says, demandingly.
“Agreed.” Dad smiles. “Now, if you don’t get going soon, you’re gonna get caught in the rush of traffic.”
Mum agrees, rushes over to me, hugs me, (insert comma) and tells me that I have to call her with any interesting things that happen at school or in my social life. She, and leaves soon after.

Later on that evening, Dad is cooking his specialty which is Spaghetti and Meatballs. I sit and observe whilst sitting on the stool that is situated next to the island in the kitchen. “Hey Dad?” <-is a question mark really necessary???
“Oh hey, (insert comma) sweet pea.” He turns to me, still stirring the pasta.
“Do you know why Mum sent me here?” I ask, curiously.
“I have a pretty good idea, but I’m sure your you're gonna tell me.” He laughs.
“What do you think it’s about?” I ask.
“I thought it was about your grades?” He says, piling the spaghetti on my plate.
“Oh please, I don’t stay in one school long enough to receive a progress report.” I smile lightly.
“Sophia.” He gives me a stern look.
“What?” I say, boldly.
“It hasn’t been easy for either of us these past few years. Your Mum <- no capital is just-” I cut him off.
“Trying to find what’s right for her. I know, I know. I’ve heard this all before. But what about what’s right for Holly and I? Hey, were <- I think you meant "where" to we come into this equation?”
“Sophia., (insert comma)” He <- no capital repeats.
“What?!” My eyes start to well up. “This was home. This was right. Mum tries to make everything like it was back when I was a kid, but it’s not because a family, is never a family without a father, and she destroyed the concept of family for me and Holly when she walked out on you.”
He sighs, “Eat some spaghetti, let’s change the subject.”
“I’m not hungry., (insert comma)” I say, storming upstairs.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“To my bedroom., (insert comma)” I say, angrily, but my eyes filling up with tears.
“First door on the right!” He <- no capital calls after me.
“I remember., (insert comma)” I call back.

OK--I'm all done critiquing. Hope it helps you, and good luck on your book.
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