Liar Liar (1)

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With a turn of a doorknob, it all begins. I plaster on that fake smile and resolve to look happy, as per the Dower family routine. Pushing open the garage door, I walk, wobbly gait and all, to the sturdy stairwell banister. Then, after a moment of adjustment, I aim my sights down the hall to the kitchen island. One foot, then another, it’s a constant balancing act. Quickly I pick up speed: two slow, and I fall backward, too fast, and I fall forward. Speaking from seventeen years of experience, the latter is infinitely more preferable, trust me.

I entered the kitchen, and her voice was the first thing I heard, as always, “Oh hello sweetie!” The forced attempt at enthusiasm echoed around the cavernous kitchen, as if mocking the whole charade.

“Hi mom.” There she was standing in her apron, looking absolutely perfect: Makeup done, hair pinned expertly in some intricate hairstyle, placing freshly baked cookies on a platter. She would make any ninety-fifties patriarch proud.

“How was your day?” The obligatory, “I-am-a-good-mother” question came as she set the last cookie down. As if she actually cared.

“Good,” I replied with the necessary “I-am-a-good-daughter-who-lies-so-as-not-to-worry-her-mother-with-troublesome-imperfections” response.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you have a cookie honey? Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I hear they’re delicious,” she smiled coyly. “Supermom” insisted that she have cookies ready every day when I got home, despite the fact that her one and only offspring was a senior in high school, and not the hugest fan of cookies.

“That’s okay mom. I am pudgy enough as it is,” she looked up at me, a strand of hair falling out of place, and pursed her lips. Uh-oh. a deviation from the script. I was only supposed to politely decline the cookie, not ad lib about my imperfections. I could see my mother working out a response, clearly, my little comment made her planned reply insufficient.

“Oh, no you’re not honey,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “don’t be silly.” The statement lacked any real sincerity, probably because we both knew it wasn’t true. I was pudgy. I mean I wasn’t fat, and I certainly wasn’t one of those girls who stood in front of mirrors hating their bodies, but I could stand to lose a few pounds and get in shape. In fact, I knew that my weight was a little bit of an embarrassment to my mother, who prided herself on her stick of waist, not that she would ever admit it. Oh well. Just one of the many lies told here.

I nodded and gave a small smile in response. The relief was tangible in my mother’s face: Phew. Back to normal now.

I grabbed a cookie for good measure, got up to leave, saying “On second thought, I think I might have one of these delicious treats. I know they were baked with love.” I smiled softly and looked up at her before turning down the hall. Brilliant. Seriously, I should get an academy award for this stuff.

With unsteady steps I made it to the banister, and with the help of the rail and the wall, I was up the stairs in seconds. That, my dear friend, takes practice. I remember the day I mastered that skill: walking upstairs, instead of crawling up them. It changed my life. Enjoy the little things, they make all the difference.

I made it to my room and found the family Yorkshire terrier on my bed. She tapped her tail feebly in greeting, not bothering to jump down from her spot. LuLu was old, and she didn’t try and pretend otherwise. She reveled in her oldness, embraced it. And despite her truly unfortunate name, (Note to self: four year-olds should never be allowed to name anything, let alone living beings), she had been a great help to me over the years. Dogs don’t lie.

I started up my computer and checked facebook, more out of habit than out of any expectation. As per normal, nothing of note. I mean, really, how interesting are a bunch of high schooler’s lives anyway?

Letting my eyes wander, I looked over at the collapsed wheelchair that sits next to my desk. I swear it’s there just to taunt me. Lord only knows why that thing can’t be kept in the garage. Dad calls it clutter. As in, “Lydia, for the tenth time, will please get your freakin' clutter out of my garage?” So it ended up here. It’s like a constant reminder of what I am fighting against, a constant reminder of what I don’t want: to end up there, in that chair, for the rest of my life. I can almost hear it laughing at me. “You know it’s true, Lydia. It’s inevitable. You’ll get old, your body will decay. Then, I will have you in my grips, sweetie. I will trap and confine you till the day you die.” Cue the evil laughter.

As I laid down for a short nap, all I could think was: I sure hope not. My walker is bad enough.

To be continued...
Last edited by Audrey on Sun May 01, 2011 10:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"I've never told a lie, and that makes me a liar
I've never made a bet, but we gamble in desire
I've never lit a match with intent to start a fire,
But recently the flames are getting out of control"




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Hi! I enjoyed reading your story, and by "1" I presume you mean there's another? I'd love to read it if there is! Keep writing! I like your piece because you don't know where it's going - that's a compliment! You seriously have huge talent as a writer! Here's a nitpick of you're piece for you! lol





Audrey wrote:With a turn of a doorknob, it all begins. I plaster on that fake smile and resolve to look happy, as per the Dower family routine. Pushing open the garage door, I walk, wobbly gait and all, to the sturdy stairwell banister. Then, after a moment of adjustment, I aim my sights down the hall to the kitchen island. One foot, then another, it’s a constant balancing act. Quickly I pick up speed: two (too) slow, and I fall backward, too fast, and I fall forward. Speaking from seventeen years of experience, the latter is infinitely more preferable, trust me.

I entered the kitchen, and her voice was the first thing I heard, as always, “Oh hello sweetie!” (I'd end the sentence at always, and then start a new one: She said: "oh hello sweetie!" ) The forced attempt at enthusiasm echoed around the cavernous kitchen, as if mocking the whole charade.

“Hi mom,” and (I'd put: I said, and then a full stop. Then just start a new sentence) there she was standing in her apron, looking absolutely perfect: Makeup done, hair pinned expertly in some intricate hairstyle, placing freshly baked cookies on a platter. She would make any ninety-fifties patriarch proud.

“How was your day?” The obligatory, “I-am-a-good-mother” question came as she set the last cookie down. As if she actually cared.

“Good,” I replied with the necessary “I-am-a-good-daughter-who-lies-so-as-not-to-worry-her-mother-with-troublesome-imperfections” response.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you have a cookie honey? Not to be to toot my own horn or anything, but I hear they’re delicious,” she smiled coyly. “Supermom” insisted that she have cookies ready every day when I got home, despite the fact that her one and only offspring was a senior in high school, and not the hugest (I'd put biggest) fan of cookies.

“That’s okay mom. I am pudgy enough as it is,” she looked up at me, a strand of hair falling out of place, and pursed her lips. Uh-oh. a deviation from the script. I was only supposed to politely decline the cookie, not ad lib about my imperfections. I could see my mother working out a response, clearly, my little comment made her planned reply insufficient.

“Oh, no you’re not honey,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “don’t be silly.” The statement lacked any real sincerity, probably because we both knew it wasn’t true. I was pudgy. I mean I wasn’t fat, and I certainly wasn’t one of those girls who stood in front of mirrors hating their bodies, but I could stand to lose a few pounds and get in shape. In fact, I knew that my weight was a little bit of an embarrassment to my mother, who prided herself on her stick of waist, not that she would ever admit it. Oh well. Just one of the many lies told here.

I nodded and gave a small smile in response. The relief was tangible in my mother’s face: Phew. Back to normal now.

I grabbed a cookie for good measure, got up to leave, saying (needs a , or a : ) “On second thought, I think I might have one of these delicious treats. I know they were baked with love.” I smiled softly and looked up at her before turning down the hall. Brilliant. Seriously, I should get an academy award for this stuff.

With unsteady steps I made it to the banister, and with the help of the rail and the wall, I was up the stairs in seconds. That, my dear friend, takes practice. I remember the day I mastered that skill: walking upstairs, instead of crawling up them. It changed my life. Enjoy the little things, they make all the difference.

I made it to my room and found the family Yorkshire terrier on my bed. She tapped her tail feebly in greeting, not bothering to jump down from her spot. LuLu was old, and she didn’t try and pretend otherwise. She reveled in her oldness ( I'd put age), embraced it. And despite her truly unfortunate name, (Note to self: four year-olds should never be allowed to name anything, let alone living beings), she had been a great help to me over the years. Dogs don’t lie.

I started up my computer and checked facebook, more out of habit than out of any expectation. As per normal, nothing of note. I mean, really, how interesting are a bunch of high schooler’s lives anyway?

Letting my eyes wander, I looked over at the collapsed wheelchair that sits next to my desk. I swear it’s there just to taunt me. Lord only knows why that thing can’t be kept in the garage. Dad calls it clutter. As in, “Lydia, for the tenth time, will please get your freakin' clutter out of my garage?” So it ended up here. It’s like a constant reminder of what I am fighting against, a constant reminder of what I don’t want: to end up there, in that chair, for the rest of my life. I can almost hear it laughing at me. “You know it’s true, Lydia. It’s inevitable. You’ll get old, your body will decay. Then, I will have you in my grips, sweetie. I will trap and confine you till the day you die.” Cue the evil laughter.

As I laid down for a short nap, all I could think was: I sure hope not. My walker is bad enough.



As you can tell by the lack of red you're story was near perfection. A great read. I hope you found this review helpful! thanks, AC xxx




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Thank-you for the advice and taking the time to review my piece. I really appreciate it!
"I've never told a lie, and that makes me a liar
I've never made a bet, but we gamble in desire
I've never lit a match with intent to start a fire,
But recently the flames are getting out of control"




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Hey there Audrey!

The title of this drew me in - it reminded me of the film of the same name :)

So, I didn't spot that many grammatical mistakes, but I did notice that you start the story off in present tense and then switch to past tense. The change in tenses is distracting to the reader. As it's mostly in past tense, my corrections will be changing the present to past.

With a turn of a doorknob, it all begins. I plaster on that fake smile and resolve to look happy, as per the Dower family routine. Pushing open the garage door, I walk, wobbly gait and all, to the sturdy stairwell banister. Then, after a moment of adjustment, I aim my sights down the hall to the kitchen island. One foot, then another, it’s a constant balancing act. Quickly I pick up speed: two slow, and I fall backward, too fast, and I fall forward. Speaking from seventeen years of experience, the latter is infinitely more preferable, trust me.


To be in past tense, this should read as -

'With a turn of a doorknob, it all began. I plastered on a fake smile and resolved to look happy, as per the Dower family routine. Pushing open the garage door, I walked, wobbly gait and all, to the sturdy stairwell banister. Then, after a moment of adjustment, I aimed my sights down the hall to the kitchen island. One foot, then another, it was a constant balancing act. Quickly I picked up speed: too slow, and I would fall backward, too fast, and I would fall forward. Speaking from seventeen years of experience, the latter was infinitely more preferable, trust me.'

cavernous kitchen, as if mocking


You don't need the comma.

There she was standing in her apron


I think you need a comma after 'was'

they’re delicious,” she smiled coyly.


This should be formatted as -

'they’re delicious.” She smiled coyly.'

“That’s okay mom


Comma after 'okay'

I am pudgy enough as it is,” she looked up at me, a strand of hair falling out of place, and pursed her lips.


This should read as -

'I am pudgy enough as it is.”

She looked up at me, a strand of hair falling out of place, and pursed her lips.'

I could see my mother working out a response, clearly


Change the comma to a full stop.

of waist, not that she would ever admit it.


This would be better as two sentences.

I grabbed a cookie for good measure, got up to leave, saying “On second thought,


The second comma would be better as 'and' and 'saying' should be 'said'

takes practice.


'takes' should be 'took'

I can almost


'can' should be 'could'

***

Overall, I think you have a good start to a story here. You've set markers for the mother/daughter relationship and you've given us a bit of background to her life; she's a senior, she's not a big fan of cookies and she uses a walker. The last is what makes me want to read on - I want to know why she has to use it. What she's 'fighting against.'

As long as you watch your tenses, this piece has the potential to be great!

I hope this review helps :)

xDudettex
'Stop wishing for the sunshine. Start living in the rain.' - Kids In Glass Houses.

'Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?' - MCR artwork.




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Ahoy! Thanks for the request. :3 I'm not going to do any nit-picky stuff, because Dudette seems to have taken care of most of that and I don't want to bore you--so I'm just going to dive right in and talk about the overall aspects of the story.

I really like this piece, Audrey. A lot. I love the mix of the poetic and the conversational in the writing style. It makes the piece both beautiful and fun to read. I also really like the main character, so far. She is witty but cynical and for some reason I get the feeling that she is one of those people who is really smart but doesn't realize it. I also get the feeling that she is fed up with her situation but resigned to the fact that it's not going to change. I'm intrigued by her, and I really want to know more about her.

I also like the whole scene you've set up with the family and their lying. You've done an excellent job at portraying that way of life that so many people fall into without knowing it. I think this might be part of what makes me think the main character is so smart; she detaches herself and looks at things from a point of view that isn't involved, and then she can judge and comment on her family without judging and commenting on herself. The image that you paint of the family and their interactions is scary, but realistic. I think we all know people who feel so plastic and fake, so the way you've written about it calls those people to mind. Something that intrigues me particularly is that the main character obviously has some sort of disability, which must be a hardship for her family. Different people have different ways of dealing with hardship, so I find it really interesting that her family dealt with theirs by lying and pretending to be happy all the time. It says a lot about them as people.

I also really love the fact that you don't go right out and say "I've got a disability," but instead you just give lots of little hints. Hinting at things is an art that a lot of people on here don't appreciate, methinks, and your mastery of it is really refreshing. The first paragraph kind of confused me when I first read it, but it was so beautifully written that I didn't mind and by the time I'd finished reading the whole piece it made sense.

All in all, I'm having a really hard time finding anything negative to say about this! Really, it seems like an excellent start. I wish you'd posted more of it because this has just teased me and left me thirsting for more.

Something that I would like to see more of is description. I'd like to have a better sense of what the setting looks/smells/feels like so I could have a better picture of it in my imagination. You do a really good job setting up the relationships between the characters in a way that makes them believable and real-feeling... but it's hard for me to imagine the characters if I don't know where the characters are. So some more imagery about the surroundings would be nice.

That's about it for the negatives, though. There isn't really much else I can think of to improve upon because this is so 1) short and 2) well written! I'm afraid this is the least helpful review I've given in a very long time, but hopefully I've at least given you some idea of why I liked the piece so much so you can know what I found effective about your writing. Please let me know when you post more so I can try and be more helpful!

PM me or write on my wall if you've got any questions or anything.

a




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Hi there, Lavvi in to review.

So, Dudette took the nitpicks and Azila covered most of the aesthetics, so I'll just kind of...go with the flow. If I repeat anything that Dudette and Azila talked about, don't mind me :) Here goes.

(First thing's first, as Dudette said, stay in the same verb tense throughout the entire story. But you already know that.)

Because most's covered by others, I'll just nitpick what bothered me.

I am pudgy enough as it is,


This section of dialogue just seems a tad too formal for your MC which I'm guessing is a modern-day girl.

I'm pudgy enough.

And now I'm going to backpedal a bit...

With a turn of a doorknob, it all begins.


I guess this an okay story starter, but it was...weird to me. It's not exactly a very appealing start to something that was so good, so perhaps you could find another or "renovate" it a bit. It was kind of a clunky start.

Yeah, it was a good story, but we haven't been introduced much to any sort of plot, perhaps we know the MC and her personality a tad, hints to her family. Whatnot. Things like that. I'm interested in the next part, seeing what will happen. I'm not loving the story because it just seems like a narration with nothing going on, but maybe the next part will introduce us to something.

If you need anything regarding this review, drop me a line via PM or on my wall.

Lavvi
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What is to give light must endure burning. – Viktor Frankl




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Very good- very sarcastic. Made me feel like I was in a teen movie ! (: It's a break from all the supernatural B.S- Twilight ugh- thats clouding up the bookstores and the internet. But oine thing I noticed was that you didn't specifiy what your girl has ! Few gramatical errors thought =]




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Howdy, Aubrey! Walker here, returning the favour as is in my nature ;)

One thing you might want to know about my reviews is that I have a very strict structure for novel pieces and short stories. That being said, it consists of five sub-sections by the name of; Grammar and Punctuation/Nit-picks, Setting and Description, Plot, Character Developement (my particular favourite), and lastly, my overall.

That being said, and without further adeu, on with the show!

Grammar and Punctuation/Nit-Picks:

With a turn of a doorknob, it all begins.


As is in a writers blood, the first sentence tends to be the most important when it comes to grabbing a readers attention. I can see the wheels were turning in your head but in all honesty, it was a little cheesy. That and I find third person writing in the present tense to be a little... frustrating to read. Thats a personal opinion, though, so its really up to you!

I plaster on that fake smile and resolve to look happy, as per the Dower family routine.


You say that she has a fake mile and yet you give the impression with the second part of the sentence as being what they all do. I don't feel that that is necessarily correct, so maybe just right, 'as per usual'.

One foot, then another, it’s a constant balancing act.


We have a wee case of comma splicing here. That comma should either be a period, or for more of a flow effect, change it to a semicolon.

Quickly I pick up speed: two slow, and I fall backward, too fast, and I fall forward.


This line confused me. That and there is a redundancy in the use of wording. Try not to repeat the same word in a sentence, nor a noun, adjective, or adverb twice in the same paragraph. It will kill repetive tendancies completely.

“How was your day?” The obligatory, “I-am-a-good-mother” question came as she set the last cookie down.


For future reference, you should change the quotations around I-am-a-good-mother to just one apostrophe. That way, it won't appear to be more dialogue when it actuality, its just a thought process.

There she was standing in her apron, looking absolutely perfect: Makeup done, hair pinned expertly in some intricate hairstyle, placing freshly baked cookies on a platter.


One nit-pick. Maybe shouldn't be capitalized.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you have a cookie honey? Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I hear they’re delicious,” she smiled coyly. “Supermom” insisted that she have cookies ready every day when I got home, despite the fact that her one and only offspring was a senior in high school, and not the hugest fan of cookies.


Already, right off the bat, we are getting the 'I need to explain every sentence we speak' sort of deal. This will all come out. You don't need to hammer it on to every piece of dialogue given. It kills any chance of the dialogue being unstatic, as is what any writer of prose should want. So keep in mind that its cool enough to just add 'she said' at the end of dialogue.

I could see my mother working out a response, clearly, my little comment made her planned reply insufficient.


This should be two different sentences instead of one combined one. That would be another comma splice.

“Oh, no you’re not honey,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “don’t be silly.”


I'm a bit of a punctuation nazi xD. Here, we have to piece of dialogue split up with a chunk of description within. Thats completely normal. Just that, when you have two commas, one behind the first and then one behind the description, it means that the sentence was split in half. Here we have two very different sentences. That means that the comma after the description should be a period and the 'don't' should be capitalized.

Brilliant. Seriously, I should get an academy award for this stuff.


The comment itself ha a lovely sarcastic feel about it. I wouldn't have trown this part in there and just went with it. It gives your character a sharper edge that she seemed to be displaying with the comment before it.

I remember the day I mastered that skill: walking upstairs, instead of crawling up them. It changed my life. Enjoy the little things, they make all the difference.


I'm confused. :S

As I laid down for a short nap, all I could think was: I sure hope not. My walker is bad enough.


And this does sort of explain what you were hinting at through the entirety of this piece. Just that, in all honesty, I would have preferred to know a little more about it then subtle hints. If thats going to reoccur throughout the novel, show us a little more.

And that is all for that section!

Setting and Description:

You give us a bit of both, which is nice for a first chapter. I didn't get a lot of setting though, and the descriptions you did give were a little on the... cliche side? As much as I love a doting, evil mother, you still give them impression of an evil stepmother that has been portrayed in thousands and thousands of stories.

Plot:

Not a lot in here, but thats alright! A novel in itself should take time to move, and as we get just a small image into her life, I can kind of get an interesting look into how things will turn out. The best thing, though, for this piece, is to grow a litte more originality. I'm feeling a lot of cliche right of the start which can happen and can easily be squashed out, but should never be forgotten. That being said, start shaping this into something that is you.

Character Development:

Unfortunately, this is where I'll be getting a bit harsh with you.

Your characters, from what I could tell so far, are unoriginal, and a little bit flat. I've seen the same style protagonist used over and over. Same emotional capacity; just physical differences. And thats boring, in all honesty.

Of course, this could change as the characters grow and develope throughout the novel, but without concrete change, you'll be playing with Mary Sue's that merely follow the plotline instead of living and breathing on their own.

For example, you have a very mean mother. As I've said before 'very overused'. Its why, in my own novel, I chose to make the Aunt kind of 'back and forth' so as to make the character not really know if she loves or hates that sort of person. It gives the thought process a little bit of edge so as for you to be able to shape your character into something a little more interesting and new instead of the same old same old.

But all these statements can't truly be concrete until the entire novel is read. Till then, this is all I see. When all is said and done, it could be a completely different picture so I hope I didn't sound too harsh.

Overall:

You really have a very nice and interesting set up. It'll make for a good plot and shows some shaping when it comes to the 'big shoulders' of which we can already see that your character has. Just that you need to add a bit more originality and stop playing on the same field thats been used way too many times to count.

That and maybe add a couple metaphors! Similies! It'll make for great imagery and will help give the reader a just opinion of how your character thinks!

~Walker
Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologuing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. - R.S




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The grammar problems are already corrected by the reviewers here. SO I will skip this part as I feel its not the grammar that makes the story but the characters and the emotions. Language is just a medium. Lets get to the review part.

Overall, I felt the story was interesting and gripping from the first sentence. You have avoided the mistake of telling instead of showing. Bravo to that alone. It was funny at parts and I enjoyed that.

I could feel the tension between mother and daughter as I read it. To me, I would have a hard time writing things like that. Subtle yet clear. Well done here.

The characters? Boring. I'm sorry of being harsh but its true. The 'mean mother' and 'innocent and suffering daughter' plot is so overused that it makes me want to vomit. Cinderalla? Although this plot will work in fairy tales, I don't recommend you writing about this setting in your stories. Its just old and not original. Try to think up of something new and exciting.

I look forward to the second part. Don't disappoint me! XD
When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you -Friedrich Nietzsche




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I loved this one too! It was truely brilliant. I loved the bit where the character had to quickly react so the mother never got too angry :)

Keep writing- good luck
JJxVoodo
Maybe imperfection is the best thing, for without imperfection neither you nor I would be here today.



I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say.
— Flannery O'Connor