Young Writers Society

Monday, May 3, My Room
I woke up to some dude telling me it was six-forty five on a “beautiful” school day, in an extremely fake cheerful voice that nobody could possibly buy this early in the morning. I felt the snooze button under my clumsy morning hands, but resisted the temptation to give it a thump. I hit standby and reached for my blue and grey robe I kept neatly hanging on the rug, however instead of feeling a heap of cool cotton-ish fabric, there was soft warm husky fur in its place.
“Mornin’ Kai,” I murmured, as I half fell out of bed. The light thud made him get up, but he took his time stretching and yawning. When his highness was finished I was acknowledged with a few quick licks on the face by a damp pink tongue, and was then permitted to remove my robe and put it on. It smelled of dog.
I went to the bathroom, and showered quickly. I had to get to school early today, because there was a band rehearsal, and I just got new sticks from the Hard Rock café. I love that place, with the Beatles memorabilia and plasma screens playing MTV or VH1 all day. Someday I’d totally have my spot in one of those glass cabinets, between my two favourite pieces; the first ever issue of NME and Alice Cooper’s boots. I’m into the dude’s music or anything, I just loved the Docs.
Choosing an outfit for school is never hard for me. I pulled on a pair of ripped jeans (custom, I was so not paying $40 for “professional” ripping. I can do that no problem) and an air-force blue hooded sweater, with the Che Guevara headshot on the front. I love that dude. To me he is a symbol of rebellion, proving to people that they can make a difference and that making a stand is a good thing, if you truly believe. I have a lot of Che stuff; a bright red poster in my room, and his face on the front of my drum kit. And, no, I did not get it done because of that stupid band. They used Che. They used him because they thought they would look cool, but if Che were here today, he would be horrified at what his image has been used for. Half the people you see wearing his T-shirts couldn’t tell you who he is let alone what he stood for or what he did. I could go on and on for hours, but I’ll spare you the details.
Kai waited for me to get my shoes on, which didn’t take long because I never tie my Etnies; no-one does. When I’d brushed my hair and stuff I took Kai for a run round the block, and saw all the neighbours. I know all their names, ‘cuz I’m a small-town kid, growing up in Carlton, Nebraska, population under 5’000. I like our little town. I love waking up on Saturday mornings and going to the mall with my friends, or getting up early and sitting on the roof while the sun rose. My parents seem to enjoy living there too. They don’t have hectic jobs so they’re always there. My dad is like the Mayor’s understudy dude, and my mom is a chef in the hotel’s restaurant, so although things could get busy, they’re hardly ever stressed out or anything.
When I got back home my mom had made me French toast; one slice, ‘cuz she knew I was in a hurry. I grabbed my denim shoulder bag and checked my drum sticks were still in there, then I scarfed breakfast down and chugged some apple juice before heading out to my friends’ houses. First up was Matt, my friend since I was about five. Matt stands up for me; I’m apparently not capable of doing that myself. I don’t mind it though, he is just protective. Every guy I will ever date will have to go through him first, or at least that’s what he thinks. He plays lead guitar in the band and kicks ass.
“Hey dude, you got your picks this time?” I said. He smiled and nodded. We started walking along the street to Josh and Phoebe’s place.
“Yeah, sure do. Hey McKenna, you hear about that new dude from California?” he replied. I hadn’t, so shook my head. “Moved here from Hollywood, how cool is that? His dad is this record producer type guy, and the studio next town over hired him. Name’s Hayes.”
“Cool, he play?” I asked, hoping we could get a new band member, someone decent. Matt shrugged.
“Dunno, probably. I heard something about a drummer, but I’m not sure it was him. You can stand a little competition though, can’t you?” I laughed.
“Bring it on, Mattie.” We stopped and waited for Josh, our bass player, and Phoebe, our keyboard player to come out. Phoebe was first, with a black painted stand in her hand. Josh came out a minute later, with his awesome flame patterned guitar in its case, and an amp he was just able to carry. I helped him out, and the four of us walked to school. Phoebe and Josh are fraternal twins, so they look nothing alike. Phoebe is really gorgeous, with black hair that always sits perfectly. Josh is pretty hot too, but I’ll never let that slip to Phoebs. I’ve known them since I was born. They’re a couple months older than me, but our moms are friends. Josh and Matt met on the first day of school and were inseparable since. The gang goes a long way back, and we always hang out together. Phoebe and Matt are close too; it’s like a perfect set-up.
As we entered the front courtyard of our school, the topic changed back to the Hayes dude.
“Hayes… God, I know what his first name is… Damn what was it..? Begins with a D… Darren?” Phoebe knows everything about everybody; a mine of information.
“Darren Hayes is a singer from the ‘90s.” I said, “You know we’re playing that song “I Knew I Loved You”? He sang that.”
“Isn’t it Riley? Riley Hayes, That’s it.” Josh said.
“Buffy! Yay!!” I love Buffy, and that name is just so cool. Josh laughed, and we made our way to the band room.
Ten minutes later all of us were in and had set up our stuff. The chorus people, the band members, lead singers, everyone was in, except Lucy. Lucy Adler, man I hate her, and she hates me, we’re even. She’s hated me ever since I came in to this school. I was wearing baggy jeans and a cute black sweater, nothing special. She eyed me up and down, and stopped at my feet.
“Converse went out years ago,” she’d said. I love my black converse, wear ‘em all the time, but she said it real loud and everyone turned round and looked at me. Of course, I, being the lady that I am, told her to “shove it” and since then we’ve been unofficial enemies. She’s the total stereotypical cheerleader girl, and she’s EVIL. She has a select gang blah, blah, blah. You know the type. Anyhow, she is the lead singer, but she isn’t that good. She’s, average, or maybe I’m biased.
She strolled in a while later, the band teacher, Mr. Topaulo, annoyed at her attitude but not willing to waste the rest of the hour yelling at her. We played for about twenty minutes, trying out some stuff and going over what we already know, and a teacher knocked on the door. She had a few words with our teacher, and then smiled and stuck her head out the door.
“Richard, you can come in now.” A voice called back,
“It’s Riley,” and then a boy waked in. WOOMF.
He had brown hair, sorta shaggy and choppy, done with wax I’m guessing. He had dark blue jeans on, and a white t-shirt underneath a black sweater, and black converse, the same ones as mine. His eyes were brown and deep, and he had a really chiselled face. He looked like a rock star; he was like a dream come true.
“Oh. My. GOD!!” Phoebe whispered to me. I smiled as the dude set down his backpack and waited as everyone gave him the once-over, or in me and Phoebe’s case, the twice, three times, four, five, we could have just stared at the guy for hours, he was GORGEOUS.
“Mr… Hayes, is that right? Why don’t you tell the band members a little about yourself?” The dude sighed and nodded.
“Uh, hey. I’m Riley Hayes, I’m fourteen, and I play drums and electric guitar. My dad works in the studio next town over, and I moved from California ‘cuz of his job, and yeah, I was in the band at my old school.”
Riley looked at the teacher, who smiled. He handed him some music and asked him if he could play it. I waited with anticipation. He played the same instruments as me, so I knew exactly what to look out for. Playing was one thing, but stance and attitude counts too, for me anyway. He plugged his guitar in next to Matt’s, and tuned it up a little, before beginning. He played the music exactly as it was written, but then, it was, like, so cool! He shredded this sorta improvised solo thingy, and it rocked! He totally rocked I couldn’t believe it!! He wasn’t, like, smarmy and didn’t have a grin on his face while he played, and he stood sorta casual but not lazy. It was PERFECTION.
“Holy crap, dude you can PLAY,” exclaimed Mattie, when Riley was done. We laughed and clapped for him. I looked at Lucy, who was totally staring at the guy too. No, I thought; please don’t have a crush on him… If she does, I’ve got no chance. She can get any guy she wants, cuz she’s so pretty.
Half an hour later we dismissed and we went outside to kill the extra half hour. Riley was chatting to Josh and Matt as they all packed up their guitars, while Phoebe came with me to get my singing sheet. I like singing, I guess, it’s sorta fun. I was doing a tape thingy for an exam, but it was just five minutes at lunch every day. When I got it we went over to the guys and spoke to them. Riley smiled at me (!), and I smiled back.
“Hey, you’re hot on the drums, uh…” He didn’t know my name.
“…McKenna, I’m McKenna, this is my friend Phoebe. You rock on the guitar, dude, was that improv, or..?”
“Yeah, it was. Thanks.” He smiled again, one of those killer smiles Calvin Klein boys have, “You play?” I nodded, and told him I did. We chatted for another couple of minutes then Josh piped up.
“Hey dude, we’re headin’ outside, you comin’?” He jerked his head towards the door.
“Sure man, yeah, thanks.” He picked up his backpack and put his guitar in the closet, along with everyone else’s stuff. I felt weird, like, different. My stomach felt all fluttery when he looked at me, and I really liked talking to him. He smelled great; he was wearing that stuff I like, Hugo Boss. He spoke to me the most, laughing at any little jokes and looking into my eyes all the time. I was like, WOW. I was sure I had a crush on him, and just hoped Phoebe didn’t. She would back down if she knew I liked somebody. Or at least I think she would.

This was great. It had a really tuned-down appeal to it - like a sort of moving diary, recording the events in a speech-like narrative, and the use of firts person was well done. The emotions were played across really easily, and the position of the characters was easy to understand.

Except for that, the only thing I'm worried about is it being unoriginal. Obviously, I'm sure you have plans for the story, but the first part has to grip the reader straight off (if you ever want to get published) and while this get my attention, I couldn't help thinking I'd read every single teenage angst story like this before. Band, hot guy, stereotypical popular enemy, etc. I don't want this to just be forgotten like a lot of other stories on similar American high-school dramas. Just something to think about.

Yeah, well i was planning for Drew to say something like this:

"Okay, I know I've been done. The girl that thinks she is different, is individual.. it's like another teen movie. I knew I wasn't unique, hell, I was hardly different. Or, at least, that's what I thought. See, I was different. I had something no-one else had; something that made me special, something that would changed the way i lived my life forever."

And then move on with the big plot thing i'm thinking about.

IOWA?????

WHAT THE FREAK ARE YOU PUTTING IT IN IOWA FOR???

ah, I'm biased because I'm Nebraskan. Har dee har har.

And, this was great. Loved the details, the stereotypical band and everything. That RAWKED.

Very impressed with the Etnies thing. I haven't tied mine in...*counts fingers*...two months?

Iowa popped into my head, suggest a state, Sam, and your wish shall be granted... :thumb:

Hmmm...how 'bout...Virginia. It likes me, I like it. Or, Nebraska.

Nebraska- you can have a cameo

Hey! That is so good! Yeah, a stereotypical story, mega cute guy and pretty popular girl. But the descriptions where great and I can see that going well! Also.. Yeah! Bring in the bands and the converses! And the baggy jeans! Your story rawks and I cant wait to read more.

Damn right!

Making some little adjustments, I'm changing the format to a diary one because it'll be easier for me, and I've never really followed through with a diary story. Thanks, guys.

I'm impressed. It's not often that I read a story like this with such a real voice. The speech patterns, and diction are very believable, and it really sounds like the character is narrating it herself, rather than someone else speaking as if she were the protagonist. However, I think you've either missed a few beats, or you've squished them together. Slow down just a tiny bit.

Care to give me an example? It's a bit hard to understand... missed a beat or squished them together? It's just meant to be like a girls diary, startedon the day she meets this cute guy; do you mean i should maybe make hermeet the guy a few days after she starts the diary? (Please forgive me, I'm sorta slow with these things)

Sorry about that. I probably shouldn't have used a term like that. What I mean is that things are happening too fast, and it's easy to miss things, or you unintentionally left things out. Like something that should have happened in two or three scenes happened in one. And yes, it would be more interesting to spend a little more time getting to know your main character before she meets the guy, but you don't have to do it.

If this is a diary, though, you shouldn't have nearly as much dialogue as you do, if any. It should also be written as though she's remembering what happened that day without describing it in detail, and reflecting on the main events of the day, like the rehearsal and not how radio woke her up. Depending on the person writing it, each day could be as little as one or two pages, or as long as ten or fifteen.

I don't know if you've read many books that are in a diary format, but they all have direct speech in them, and quite a lot of it. It'd be to hard to follow without speech and kinda boring.

Also, i don't understand what's wrong with the radio part- i thought it was pretty realistic, especially since i would write the exact same thing.

And what's this about pages? That confused me- not many people write ten page long diary entries daily. I'm happy with the style and i like using speech (which i will cut down on)- i'm more interested in help developing the plot than making it a diary where some teenager gushes her feelings and doesn't get on with it. I want to tell a story.

I have read real and fictional diaries. and they didn't have full conversations in them, even if they do have some direct speech. I also found that a lot of the fictional ones had a lot more detail than the real ones. And I also didn't say that people write ten pages a day, just occassionally, or that there was anything wrong with the way you wrote it, other than what I originally said about squishing things together. It's just that if you're doing it this way it wouldn't be a diary format.