Young Writers Society

1.

Fact preceding fiction, she was sweet seventeen and straight from the bottle ‘golden blonde’. Almond eyes, counterfeit complexion, lip gloss layered lips. Slender hips hidden beneath layers of celebrated labels, jagged edges instead of elbows, deep dimples caving into crimson cheeks.

Loved and loathed, notoriously known as a cosmopolitan cover queen.

She kept a book black as coal, a list miles long. Her presence broke a healthy heart in two. A poisonous laugh, a toxic touch. She was the new cancer, contagious and incurable. A mystery to her own mirror. Pretty pictures and painted words were her expertise.

2.

He was all the opposite. A dazzling delinquent, a dropout and a dealer. All high tops and hash, little talk, lots of money. A criminal capable and quick-witted, complex in a million mystic ways. Humorous and always high, living in a constant haze.

Had it been a different moment,
a different place,
a different fate,
he would have became another name on her list
no different than the rest.

It was predestined, a fairy tale gone faulty.

She stepped a bit too close, and found herself falling fast into a world so foreign from her own.

3.

(Insert tequila.)

Sweet seventeen, hard liquor soaked into her skin. A shot glass seated before her on the carpeted floor, a momentary ‘best friend forever’ to her right. A double date to nowhere but a dizzy hell, leading the cosmopolitan cover queen to a porcelain throne. One into which she spilled her stomach's contents, and silent tears she’d never show.

He held her hair back.

(Insert tequila) and bruiser boy was suddenly something new, ludicrous and off limits. He said he had a sort-of secret, “would she like to see it”?

Close to comatose, she wanted to lay down. She wanted a soft lullaby and innocent dreams. She wanted to stay seventeen so that nothing would hurt her: Not him, not this, not anything. She wanted out, she wanted home.

But she was good at keeping secrets.

4.

Secrets involved mouths, which led to a kiss of another kind. A kiss goodbye to the girl she was.

Hello strange sheets. Hello hasty hands. Hello terrifying touch.

It was over before it ever began. In her mind, it’d never happened. In his, she didn’t exist. She’d never remember and yet she couldn’t forget.

Fact preceding fiction, he was around for a few short weeks. He went as all the others had, good only for the time being. She was never a fan of forever. He was never a fan of anything but now.

He’d burned her book, blackened it to his own liking.

Goodbye sweet seventeen. Goodbye lullabies and innocent dreams. Goodbye cosmopolitan cover queen.

Lyrically poetic prose - and for the most part, I think you pull it off, brief images, obscurity, feeling and all. There's something almost as beguiling as the character in the way you describe her.

Fact presiding fiction, she was sweet seventeen and straight from the bottle ‘golden blonde’.

Fact coming before fiction, you mean, yes? So rather than 'presiding' it ought to be 'preceding'.

lip gloss layered lips

This would flow more easily if you drop 'lip'. ...'gloss layered lips.

celebrated lables,

--Labels?

She kept a book black as cool, a list miles long.

Meant to be 'black as coal'? That would make sense - so perhaps merely a typo. ^_^

A criminal capable and quick witted...

Quick-witted -- hyphenated.

One into which she spilled her stomachs contents, and silent tears she’d never show.

Stomach's -- possessive, needs the apostrophe.

It was over before it ever began. In her mind, it’d never happened. In his, she didn’t exist. She’d never remember and yet she couldn’t forget.

Punctuated the point, good contrast. Would it flow perhaps, a bit better if you put a -- rather than 'and yet'? More sharply -- 'She'd never remember -- she couldn't forget' ...suggestion possibility.

Fact presiding fiction,

...'preceding', I think, again.

Goodbye sweet seventeen. Goodbye lullabies and innocent dreams. Goodbye cosmopolitan cover queen.

...and so a cover queen she really had been an image, naive, playing but not doing, so to speak? I like the end...repetition fits with the poetic prose. It was a vivid snapshot, violent in a way. I can only say I didn't at first connect her possible innocence at the beginning to the breaking of it later on. ^_^

IMP

Ooo. This is great. Amazing even?
Seems more poetry than other fiction.
But I love it. It's intense.

I love the occasional alliteration and curious little rhymes. I am a fan of poetic prose in general- so I am also a fan of this.

I don't see much wrong with it mechanically. I didn't spot any particularily awkward phrases, either.

There are only a few dangerous conventionalities, which I will highlight in red.

1.

Fact presiding fiction, she was sweet seventeen and straight from the bottle ‘golden blonde’. Almond eyes, counterfeit complexion, lip gloss layered lips. Slender hips hidden beneath layers of celebrated lables, jagged edges instead of elbows, deep dimples caving into crimson cheeks.

Loved and loathed, notoriously known as a cosmopolitan cover queen.

She kept a book black as cool, a list miles long. Her presence broke a healthy heart in two. A poisonous laugh, a toxic touch. She was the new cancer, contagious (and cancer isn't contagious) and incurable. A mystery to her own mirror. Pretty pictures and painted words were her expertise.

2.

He was all the opposite. A dazzling delinquent, a dropout and a dealer. All high tops and hash, little talk, lots of money. A criminal capable and quick witted, complex in a million mystic ways. Humorous and always high, living in a constant haze.

Had it been a different moment,
a different place,
a different fate,
he would have became another name on her list
no different than the rest.

It was predestined, a fairy tale gone faulty.

She stepped a bit too close, and found herself falling fast into a world so foreign from her own.

3.

(Insert tequila.)

Sweet seventeen, (sweet goes with sixteen, usually) hard liquor soaked into her skin. A shot glass seated before her on the carpeted floor, a momentary ‘best friend forever’ to her right. A double date to nowhere but a dizzy hell, leading the cosmopolitan cover queen to a porcelain throne. One into which she spilled her stomachs contents, and silent tears she’d never show.

He held her hair back.

(Insert tequila) and bruiser boy was suddenly something new, ludicrous and off limits. He said he had a sort-of secret, “would she like to see it”?

Close to comatose, she wanted to lay down. She wanted a soft lullaby and innocent dreams. She wanted to stay seventeen so that nothing would hurt her: Not him, not this, not anything. She wanted out, she wanted home.

But she was good at keeping secrets.

4.

Secrets involved mouths, which led to a kiss of another kind. A kiss goodbye to the girl she was.

Hello strange sheets. Hello hasty hands. Hello terrifying touch.

It was over before it ever began. In her mind, it’d never happened. In his, she didn’t exist. She’d never remember and yet she couldn’t forget.

Fact presiding fiction, he was around for a few short weeks. He went as all the others had, good only for the time being. She was never a fan of forever. He was never a fan of anything but now.

He’d burned her book, blackened it to his own liking.

Goodbye sweet seventeen. Goodbye lullabies and innocent dreams. Goodbye cosmopolitan cover queen.

It was predestined, a fairy tale gone faulty.

Ahh...your words are so good. It's practically poetic. "Dazzling delinquent" an "mysterious mystic." It's lovely. "hasty hands," added to the mix, and two opposite worlds makes this less-than-cliche, in a beautiful way. I enjoyed it. wouldn't it just make a lovely novel?

This piece is poetic, bitter, and tragic. Not to mention blunt and effective. You've made a fan of me.

The word for this would be provocative. It unfortunately encapsulates much of what people experience--or expect--of their 17th year. The prose is beautiful. Poetic writing is of the best sort. All I can offer are compliments.

I made a few of the corrections, I seriously appreciate every comment.

Thanks again!

Amazing...i loved it! Great use of alliteration! I have nothing else to say really, that already hasn't been said.

I thoroughly enjoyed the style and abrupt fiction style.

it reminds me of a noir type film. i think it should be a film if you think that would be cool i mean.

I really liked this. The entire thing seemed vague and hazy, or like there's a strobe light on and the reader can only see a tiny glimpse of what's happening before it changes.

I also liked how you said sweet seventeen instead of the more commonly used "sweet sixteen." It gives the sense that this girl would/will be sweet at any age.

Insert tequila was alright, I liked your use of parenthases.

a different place,
a different fate,
he would have became another name on her list
no different than the rest.

I don't think this part needs to be in poetry form. This piece already has the feel of poetry, and this just makes it look weird, lol.


Some sentences really stuck with me. A few of them:

A double date to nowhere but a dizzy hell, leading the cosmopolitan cover queen to a porcelain throne.

I like this one because of it's magestic wording for something that's about as un-magestic as it gets. Or something, sorry. I'm not sure if I'm making sence.


But she was good at keeping secrets.

Short, hasty, to the point. Not an unnecessary word.

Hello strange sheets. Hello hasty hands. Hello terrifying touch.

This is the strobe light thing I was talking about. Before each image is fully discribed, and a new one is there. It also fits like a puzzle piece with the last three sentences.