Young Writers Society

It’s such an incredible feeling when you’re driving a nice, classic convertible down a country road. Letting the wind blow your hair around. And the radio blasting to summer music, because you know that summer music is way different than regular music. When it’s during the school year, it’s okay to make slow, soft, depressing music, because that’s how we feel. But during the summer, no one wants to listen to that, they want to feel happy.
And boy do I feel happy, seeing as how yesterday was the last day of school. Forever. I mean, other than college. But still, I get to remake myself, make a fresh start. I don’t have to sit by any of those preppy uniform-baring (because uniform-baring people are way different than uniform-wearing people in the sense that uniform-baring people actually like their uniforms, unlike normal people) dipshits anymore.
They wouldn’t be caught dead here, in the middle of a cornfield. So far away from civilization. Wimps! Although, none of them do have a classic, convertible, cherry red ’57 Thunderbird, like me, so they wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves.
Shit, was that a cop?
Once again, I was too caught up in my thoughts and passed a stop sign when a cop car was sitting right there.
I look down at my speedometer and see that it says 75 MPH, precisely twenty over the speed limit. My dad is going to kill me. No, that’s too nice of a word. My dad is going to flip out, go insane, and murder me with a butter knife because it’ll be the closest thing to him. How am I going to explain this one?
I pull over, slowing down way to fast than I should for this old car, and am careful not to pull right into the ditch. If you saw the size of these things, you might not even be driving here. These suckers are huge. I mean, they are gigantic.
The cop stops behind me and I pull down my mirror to make sure there are any bugs sticking in my teeth and my hair isn’t sticking straight up. In the mirror I see him getting out of the car, he looks only about mid-twenties. And I get an idea. It’s crazy, it’s slutty, but it’s my only chance.
He walks up to my door and I look over at him as alluringly as I can, which, mind you, isn’t very much at all. I haven’t had so much of what they would call experience when it comes to this thing. And it’s probably not the greatest look ever too because he gives me this weird look back. I stop, feeling embarrassed, and try to remember how Hillary flirted back in Sophomore year.
“I’m assuming you know why I pulled you over,” he says. I cringe at the statement and clench my teeth.
“I’m assuming you know that I don’t care,” I snap. He pulls back, looking scared that I’ll hit him or something. Okay, sorry, but I hate people who assume things. And that’s totally hypocritical of me, I know, because I assume all of the time. But I just hate it when people assume things about me, because they’re usually wrong.
“Alright then, I’ll just give you the ticket and leave,” he says. I close my eyes, sighing. Nice one, genius. I’m pretty sure that when Hillary was looking for a guy to make out with, she didn’t yell at him. He hands me the flimsy piece of paper and walks away, back to his car. I open an eye, to see how much it’s gonna cost, and almost pass out. One hundred and forty frickin dollars just because I was twenty over. That’s more than the prom dress I bought in junior year.
When I see him get back in his car, I start mine back up. He pulls out and keeps driving in front of me. I wait for him to get a nice dandy space ahead of me. And then I start going again. This time when I see the speed limit hit fifty-five, instead of completely revving the engine, I slowly let the speed hit 65. I mean, that’s not as bad as twenty over, it’s only ten over. I may not even be pulled over for that. Well, maybe out here, but you probably wouldn’t on the expressway or something.

I like this, its just enough to make me wanting more. I really like this and am wondering where this is going. I can picture it perfectly, even without a wall of details. It was perfectly just enough. Not too much and not to little. I really loved this and want to read more. The only thing I'd say is the ending didn't seem as... complete... It was kind of like... "What the hell... where's the rest?" You know? But it makes me want to read more and find out whats going to happen to the main character. Especially since I still don't know her name. I really liked it. Keep up the good work and tell me when you have another chapter posted.

Heya books!

So, I liked this beginning - I think your novel has promise.

Anyways, onto the nitpicks:
Her convertible - I think you kind of try to rub it in a little too much that she has a convertible that's vintage and no one else does... See if you can take out a couple of the parts.
Its kind of random. The whole chapter is really short and a kind of random piece. It introduces us (the readers) to her personality pretty well but we don't even know her name, what she looks like, or much of her back story. See if you can make the first chapter longer and more important or at least stick in a couple more things about her.

One hundred and forty frickin' dollars just because I was twenty over.

The only mistake I could see ^.

Good job with this, hon.

Keep writing,
Alzora

I really enjoyed this and I can't wait to read the next chapter. Good job and keep writing. That's all I got to say and usually I say a lot XD

Hello there.

Shit, was that a cop?

I think this should be in italics because this is a direct thought.

The cop stops behind me and I pull down my mirror to make sure there aren't any bugs between my teeth and my hair isn’t sticking straight up.

You used 'Sticking' two times in the sentence, and I thought it was too much of a repetition. I replaced it with 'between'... Hope it sounds okay.

Plot wise, it's okay. It's the first chapter, so it's obvious we don't know much yet. I have to admit I appreciate that you didn't just dump everything on us, like most young writers do. Also, I really like how we can get to know the MC only by reading. You are characterizing her by her thoughts and the narration, and I think this is great.

I can try to help you with the title when I've read a little bit more.

Keep writing!

-Other One