Young Writers Society

Hey, fellow potato lover! lol The story's great!

I just have one correction: I noticed you said "Ellis" Island. That wasn't around until the late 1800s or early 1900s. I believe it was called Staten Island. Hope that helps.

I know, isn’t that a ridiculous mistake? Again, I started writing this version almost a year ago, before I had really researched anything about the famine or the America Diaspora. Ellis Island opened in 1892, after Castle Gardens closed, having been open since 1855, I believe. This is where I have struggled though, because I have found no written accounts of where they actually were let out during the famine. I know the first shiploads berthed in the St. Lawrence River, and later in other places along the east coast, but the actual station where they would get their records and stuff, I don’t know. Was Staten Island the place during the famine then? Thanks.

"I wan' you to remember this, Murchadh, anytime you get lonely. You e'er heard this saying? I'll tell you: There is hope in the ocean, not in the grave. I'm sending you across the ocean because somewhere there is hope, and Ireland right now, is like the grave."

[color=green]I love this part. It

Among the rats and the sickness, there was never a point in the exploit on that Coffin Ship when we stopped our lonley cries for home, and our wretches from sea-sickness to look through the leaking cracks of our lowest-class, bottom floored cell to admire the icy waves.

... our lonely cries ...

I gave him half my portions when they were given, hoping to break his silence, and maybe glimpse for myself his detatchment.

... his detachment ...

But as at home, througout his entire eight mysterious years, he still had never uttered a word. Never once.

... throughout ...

"Do you have a way there?" he asked feverently.

'reverently' or 'fervently'?

I expected perhaphs a spark in Proinsias's eye, but there was nothing more than the usual glazed stare.

... perhaps ...

"S'cuse me sir," I interupted, curiosity getting the better of me, "but what is a tenement?"

... interrupted ...

"It seems so," I said replied, remembering the black potatoes at home. "We were sure it would pass this harvest season. Is there anything to eat here?"

Take out ‘said’ as you already have ‘replied’.

When I returned that night, Gaire was not yet home, but I layed down on the cold ground of the heatless tenement and fell into fitful sleep, the day having been full of many emotions.

... I lay down ...

Really moving. Just a few spelling mistakes you overlooked. I’m beginning to like Gaire and hope he sticks around for a while and Mr Platt is cruel to the heart, deceiving Murchadh by appearing friendly.

I like his constant recollection of Ireland and what is was like.

I appreciate so much you looking over this. It's always feels great to hear comments like yours. Prehaps I should post the revised version. Unfortunately, Gaire doesn't come along until much later in the revision. Thanks again, and thanks for finding those spelling errors.