Young Writers Society

So, lily couldn't manage this any longer with all the algebra...lol, so I am going to do it again since I needed some project and I wasn't very sure about others running in my head. So here I am. I know it might sound cliche and it would for some chapters, but please bear with me, because it's not. So peace out. Whatever I've posted is my own writing.

I made a club-join, please-Know I'm Here

Know I'm Here~Chapter-2

ERIC:

The words slowly swooshed by me, me trying to grab them with all the force I could produce and they blowing past faster than the light. I tried hard to concentrate on the music, but slowly it was fading in the background, only light beats of it reaching my head. It wasn't like I couldn't hear the music, it was reaching my ears, but a block prevented it from letting it enter my brain. I tried to pull out the block, but failed miserably. I pressed the switch off button to my iPod and reclined back on the bus seat covered with feathered upholstery.
The only music ringing in my ears was of the song that me and Ellen had danced to on the prom night. The Celtic music with drum beats and high brass music was enough to welcome a non-dancer like me. I had clutched on her waist, as thin as waffles and drove down in her eyes, like they were a tunnel, full of light. I had looked into her deep amber eyes, contemplating whether I had made a mistake leaving Amy, or whether I was too harsh on her-but that was just a thought, it came and went, like an off-season wind. The truth was Ellen made me feel the way no other girl ever had. She could read my mind, act upon what I've been thinking before I could, just be there for me when I needed her.

Was it wrong of me to want her beside me, a want of listening her speak 'Eric' in her downtown accent with a slight humor adjoining it? Or was it wrong of me to see her grin and watch the light reaching her eyes and twinkling them up? Maybe it was, when her grandmother was nursing her broken ribs at a hospital in a town in a State far away from Buffalo. She needed Ellen more than I needed. But the pain...

I tried to stretch my glance as far away as I could, in hope of finding something interesting, something to put my interest to. But wherever my eyes went, I saw gleeful couples hugging and chattering. I felt a sudden pang of jealousy, my heart burning to a reaction of caustic soda. Looking away from there, I turned my eyes to the robust looking driver who was now climbing the bus, with his beard hanging like wires. I almost laughed. It was a good way of filling up the hole Ellen had created. I should have been accustomed to her long absences by now, her sudden disappearances to her ailing grandma(who also had a broken rib to her credit) did freak me out sometimes but she couldn't forget one relationship to appease the other. I was mature that ways, you see?

I watched the driver turning the key to the ignition and the bus roared to life. I felt the ground under me shaking, and sending tremors up to my waist. That's when I saw them. On a street opposite the bus, stood Amy curled up in Jake's arms, his chin resting on her shoulder and her face locked tight to his chest with invisible steel chains. She pulled her face up for a second and I saw her smiling, reaching for something in her pocket. They were standing on a side street , feet apart from our bus. If you had asked me to describe what I had felt, I would have better walked on moon. But I was surprised that I felt something. Past is not worth digging up, right? So practically there should have been no rigging up on my part, no feeling at all, but I felt something. I felt my heart contracting to form a cackling sound, but of course I was daydreaming? Contracting? Cackling? I felt like I was sad, but I guessed I was because of Ellen, but suddenly the sorrow had multiplied itself after I saw Amy. What a joke! Inside of me myriads of emotions bubbled up, making me want to puke.I felt like a girl sitting here, missing her boyfriend and sulking. And daydreaming.

I felt a twinge of guilt thinking about Amy and Jake. I felt I was betraying Ellen, stabbing her at the back. But of course that was just a confused emotion still lingering inside me, nothing more. Maybe I was just making the feeling thing to keep me distracting. I lazily curled up my legs and locked them with my hands and scrunched shut my eyes for a second but opened them again as vivid flashes of Ellen took over their place. I sighed and looked again where Amy and Jake had been standing and I wondered if they had noticed me. I didn't want them to think I was spying on them or something-that would be so awkward for me. They were still there. But now Jake was hopping into his car and Amy was waving him goodbye. She smiled and winced, her books in a tight grasp. A drop of water came tumbling down the window and rolled to the right hand side of the window, being followed by another. Slowly, the whole window was a mixture of broken rain-drops, splitting up into more and running down the window. A pink and blue colour sparkled off with the sun burning down hard on the window. A rain amidst sunshine was something I really didn't like. Just when you would feel a drop trickling on your skin and making you cold, wiping away all the anguish and all the worries, the sun would mercilessly shower its hard rays upon us.
Fidgeting with my thumb, I later realized that my eyes were burning in a similar fashion my heart had ached. A sudden pain in my canthus brought down a liquid gushing down my eyes and I sat there holding tight my eyes, afraid to be dehydrated soon. When I was stable enough to realize that the pain was actually not coming from my eyes, but my heart, I sprang up. What was I doing? Being jealous of Amy and Jake? Amy had all the rights in the world to be happy and all the more after I left her.

I felt my muscle being knocked when a pair of knuckles made a contact with my back. I whirled around to find Bob standing on the back with his baseball cap shifted to the right, and his loose shirt hanging like a cloth hanging for drying. He smiled and sat next to me. I rotated my shoulder a bit to do away with the pain and continued staring out of the window. No Amy. No Jake! I felt a sudden relief shooting in my veins and I turned back to face Bob and smiled. He furrowed his eyebrows after measuring the intensity of my crazy smile and shrugged. Lost in a world of our own, we both stared at the driver in silence and tried to fill the emptiness of today by each other's warm company. If I am not wrong Bob was going to experience the worst day of his life because today was the day the court would hear his parents' divorce case. He was going to be one of the witness. I tried to wonder how he was feeling, but I failed. I had never had experience the happiness of having a father. Never. And not unless God gave me powers like he gave Jim Carey was I going to experience it. At a tender age of three months in my mother's womb, I lost my dad to a bomb blast in Pakistan. What was he doing there? Yeah, right, he was an American army soldier. Now when I think of it, I can't swallow the fact that my father had been passionate about serving his country. And what about me? Did he ever think about me? But mom says he didn't know I was going to be born and anyways he had joined the army just two months before. I looked over at Bob, my eyes scrutinizing him, trying to find what was going on his mind.
"Dude, fine?" I asked him, for a moment forgetting my sorrow of not having Ellen by my side.
"Yeah. Guess so. " He said and clucked out his tongue, licking it.
"Sure?" I smirked, raising my eyebrows. He looked at me now, wondering why probably his jerk friend had become so concerned for him. He nodded, and entwined his fingers into each other, shaking the bird figure slowly. He bit off the edge of his lips and started staring at an imaginary point in the air. I stretched out my hand and kept it on his shoulder, rubbing it slightly. We all started tumbling as the bus started on its way on the roads of Buffalo.
"When't the hearing?" I said, after we had covered two minutes' journey.
"Just after I reach at my home. Mom's gonna take me there. Doesn't trust dad with me. Like I'm some two year old." He spoke sadly, but replaced the emotion with a grimace.
"Everything's gonna be alright." I heard myself whisper, not sure if what I was saying was correct or not.
"Whatever," he replied, and turned to look at Stella, his crush. I was again alone.



Burying myself into my math problems, I chewed the end of my pencil and looked over at my dark reflection being formed inside the coffee. The dark, low on milk coffee rippled and showed an image of me that seemed to be a distorting Eric, with a disturbed look and a face as sad as...Mona Lisa? I shook my head, saw the other Eric repeating the same thing, his face reflecting back a look of great sorrow and worry, which knocked on my heart and without any invitation housed itself there. My heart began leaping, and I felt an awful lot of frustration for no special reason at all. I had been used to Ellen disappearing for a few days, but still a pain lingered inside of me. I groaned. Frustrated enough to throw away the whole room, I pushed myself up from the seat and lazily strolled in my bedroom, not quite sure what was it that I wanted.
As if the circuit had just been completed, a bulb lighted up in my mind and I suddenly had a solution to all of my uncertain problems. I didn't have a mirror right there but if I would have, I really could have seen my face blushing into shades of scarlet, and a new spark adjoining my face. Lifting off my foot, I approached for the drawer where I kept all of my important documents or the ones I wanted to hide. Reaching up there, I pulled out the case, a scattered matter filled up entirely with rubbish-old pencils now spread in fragments, unevenly shabby erasers, a thick diary with few pages tore from the front, and some other things which I didn't remember ever possessing. I rummaged through the drawer, looking for a big diary with a ninja drawn on its front, holding up a sword to his nose and blinking. I recalled calling the ninja the 'sleeping ninja'. After few seconds, most of the contents were lying down shabbily on the floor, with papers flying in the air like airplanes and crashing down against the carpet. No Ninja. I re-checked to make sure I had not missed even a nook of the place, but in vain. Everywhere I saw dozens of paper, identical pencils but no sign of a notepad. Sighing heavily, I slumped myself down on my bean bag and closed my eyes.
"Ellen! I don't know where I missed your number," I called out aloud, to no one in particular, of course. The voice went through my windpipe and thrashed down in my own ear drums. Fighting the urge to tear apart all the sheets scattered on the floor, I rubbed my head and tried to stay calm.
"Think, think." I started again. My room running in my trance, I thought of possibly all the corners my little brain could keep the notepad in. When at last I didn't have any idea where I could find the damn notepad, I picked up my cell phone from my study desk. I speed dialed and waited for the owner of the number to pick up. Three seconds, since I was counting I am sure, a soft voice addressed me and I smiled.
"Mom. It's Eric," I said.
"Of course you are." She giggled, and continued, "what is it?" I sensed some urgency in her voice.
"Are you busy?"
"Kind of. Now be quick."
"Um, actually, have you been cleanin' my room?"
"Nah, definitely not. Why do you ask?" Her voice was getting flatter. I didn't realize she had a job to keep.
"I can't find my ninja notepad, " I replied and felt embarrassed at the same time for the question of one of my childhood belonging rose.
"Oh, that?" She laughed. "No, I have no clue. What's up with it?" She asked, now turning more suspicious of her teenage son trying to find something that had been buried deep inside...my closet?
"Mum, it's fine. I got it." I squeaked, and I could hear her mumble something behind the phone.
"Sure?" She was baffled.
"Yeah!" I assured her.
" 'kay, then. See yaa."


All that had been taking refuge in my closet came tumbling down towards me, looking like a huge tornado sending waves up and high, then rolling down and forming a curved U. Before I could turn back and close down the closet, I was covered in a mess which had a huge diversity. From old beer cans to tattered jeans, from the rustic old books to worn out sweatshirts, all covered me. I tried to push away all that was trying to choke me to death, and they must have wobbled in the air before crashing down centimeters apart.
Sniffling the air for the beer smell, I reached forward to the closet in hope of finding the notepad. Out of the little things left in the closet, there was a big perfume bottle, something I had forgotten about. I held it up, examining it and then I saw it there. Under where the bottle had been warming up its bottom laid a small black coloured notepad with a ninja holding a sword next to his ears and wearing an opaque solid black coloured veil kind of thing greeted me with eyes that sent shivers down my spine. With butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and the hope of listening Ellen's voice secreting adrenaline through my veins, I flipped its pages. I must have been utterly harsh while doing this because later I could trace the pipe like structures that my brutality had caused on the surface of the sheets, and I saw some pages bearing tattered ends. Most of the pages otherwise bore the weird outcomes of my trial at painting from my childhood. There were different geometrical shapes drawn with lines which had no idea of where to move. With colours filling the outside rather than the inside, I couldn't be classified into a good painter. When I could nowhere find out the number Ellen had given me to call her if I needed her, I had a sudden urge to tear apart the pages into rubbles, but I controlled myself. A breath in. A breath out. That's what they say to do when most confused or hyper.
As if the numbers were going to come back through magic, I again looked over each sheet, but the results were not in my favour. Again. Flipped. Again. Kept on turning the pages. No result in favour.
Maybe it was the sixteenth time I had done this or maybe it was fourteenth, but figures in this case didn't matter to me. After another round, I became exhausted and crashed down on the bean bag yet again, taking out my grudge on the innocent notepad when something white dropped down on the floor. Bending down slightly, I reached for the rectangular white object resting on my carpet. I held it up with my hand and turned it around.

The sour and sweet memories came swirling towards me like a tornado, pushing me towards an unknown island. I strangled to reach safe to the shore and witness yet another sunrise. Broken images of my time with Amy kept on rotating in my head, from the time when we first went out for dinner to the time when I had left her on the way alone, to run behind Ellen. Her sobs reverberated in my head and I had felt a slight tinge of pride in having someone cry for me, while I enjoyed my days with Ellen. Maybe I had been too rude or weird after I left her. When she came up with Jake, I had teased her. How would she have felt? In the past three months, this thought had never entered my mind, but now as I saw more of me and Amy in the photograph in front of me, I could not ignore the fact that I had been selfish all these months, not once thinking of her, and just thinking about myself. Didn't I love her before? Or Ellen's love had casted a magic spell on me that I couldn't see anything beyond her? Anything human?

As the questions surfaced on my mind, I kept on looking at the Polaroid image of Amy smiling at me, her blonde curls trickling down her shoulders and her grin reaching up to her cheeks. I felt a sober me peering up at me, protecting his girlfriend by keeping a hand around her and making funny faces.

What had I become now?

Shubhi, thanks for asking for this review on my thread. Mom is happy

The words slowly swooshed by me, me trying to grab them with all the force I could produce and they blowing past faster than the light. I tried hard to concentrate on the music, but slowly it was fading in the background, only light beats of it reaching my head

Ok. The first part is awkwardly phrased, but I loved the intent of it. Maybe try something like this:

The words slowly swooshed by me. I tried grabbing them with all the force I could produce, but they blew past, faster than light. I tried hard to concentrate on the music, but it faded slowly into the background, only light beats of it reaching my head.

I had clutched onher waist, as thin as waffles and drove down in her eyes, like they were a tunnel, full of light.

unecessary.

Was it wrong of me to want her beside me, a want of listening her speak 'Eric' in her downtown accent with a slight humor adjoining it?

I'm really confused here. Did you mean that he wants to hear her say his name? Say 'Eric'? But wasn't it Jake speaking?

Or was it wrong of me to see her grin and watch the light reaching her eyes and twinkling them up?[/quote] I would suggest changing that to 'making them twinkle' because I had to read this a few times to get what you meant. (I know, a little slow )

She needed Ellen more than I needed. But the pain...

the part in bold seems unfinished. I know what you mean, but you still need to complete it. more than I needed: her? Or more than I did?

to her ailing grandma(who also had a broken rib to her credit)

I'm not sure here, if it's just me being slow, but did you mean she also had a broken hip? Because you already said she had broken ribs.

I was mature that ways, you see?

way

I watched the driver turning the key to the ignition and the bus roared to life

I would suggest a comma between the two words in bold.

I felt the ground under me shaking, and sending tremors up to my waist. That's when I saw them.

Since he's seated in the bus, it wouldn't be the ground shaking, it would be the floor.

On a street opposite the bus, stood Amy curled up in Jake's arms, his chin resting on her shoulder and her face locked tight to his chest with invisible steel chains

Ok. Jake is here. So it really is Eric speaking. But why write Jake at the start, as if it was from his point of view?

what I had felt, I would have better walked on moon

I know what you mean, but the sentence isn't right and I'm struggling to find the right words. "I could have better described walking on the moon?" "It was easier to walk on the moon?" Something to that effect?

I felt like I was sad, but I guessed I was because of Ellen, but suddenly the sorrow had multiplied itself after I saw Amy

Again, this sentence needs a slight rewording. I was sad; surely because of Ellen's absence, but suddenly the sorrow multiplied itself after seeing Amy." Or something to that effect.

I felt my muscle being knocked when a pair of knuckles made acontact with my back

If I am not wrong Bob was going to experience the worst day of his life because today was the day the court would hear his parents' divorce case.

First, you slipped tenses there. Second, we would usually say, "If I'm not mistaken, Bob was going to..." Make sense?

I had never hadexperience the happiness of having a father. Never. And not unless God gave me powers like he gave Jim Carey was I going to experience it

experienced. And maybe you should mention that God gave him the powers in a movie, for those who wouldn't know what you're talking about.

"Yeah. Guess so. " He said and clucked out his tongue, licking it.

comma, and lower case 'he'. Also, what do you mean that he cluckled his tongue and licked it?

Lifting off my foot, I approached forthe drawer where I kept all of my important documents or the ones I wanted to hide

"Ellen! I don't know where I missed your number," I called out aloud, to no one in particular, of course

placed your number? wrote down your number?

I strangled to reach safe to the shore and witness yet another sunrise

struggled?

Ok, Shubs, done with the nitpicking.

Overall:

Can I be honest? Completely honest? Shubs, this was a very long chapter. Not length-wise, but story-wise. Nothing happened except for this guy complaining about his sadness. Several lines of just complaining. And what struck me the most, was the fact that if I hadn't known about this being from a guy's pov, I would have thought it was a girl. You need to keep in mind that guys and girls don't think alike.
Skins just posted a contest and she posted a few links with them, here's one of them:
http://www.keriarthur.com/extras/for-wr ... /male-pov/
It might help you out.

The idea of it was good, because who hasn't had regrets in the past? But this whole chapter was his regret. His regret at not having Ellen with him, his regret at seeing Amy and Jake together. And the fact that he didn't think like a guy made it quite unrealistic. Like, when Bob sits beside him on the bus and he rubs his shoulder. Guys wouldn't do that to other guys. They'd clap hands or touch fists or something.

Another point I'd like to mention is your descriptions. We have seen nothing but the bus driver's beard. That's the only thing you showed us. The rest, nothing. Who's Bob? when did he come in? Did the bus stop? Where did his crush come in? What was going on around your MC? Did he smell a perfume that made him happy/sad/nostalgic? Was the seat uncomfortable? Was he cold, warm?
You need to add more descriptions like these to make your characters and your story more believable. To help your readers feel like they are as part of the story as your mc is.

All that being said, I really enjoyed a lot of your descriptions. In some instances, they were just a little overwhelming, but in others, they were great.

I think this has much potential, but it would do you good to read up on MALE POV's, like the link I gave you here.

I hope this was helpful, thanks for asking me to review it.

Mom xxxx

Hey, Shubhi! Here to review!
So, I'm not going to be nitpicky because it seems like there are quite a bit of misused words in here and I don't feel like picking all of them out, I'll save you on that one.

First of all, you have this tendency to over-explain scenes and emotions. Let's take this very first paragraph for example. You state that she's basically nonchalant about the music she's listening too but you go even deeper and start saying things about a block and words being swooshed around, it's too deep and often times, it can become hard to keep up with what is happening in your story. Not only that but you can loose readers with it. If it's really important, then keep it but if it doesn't mean much, simplify it because good prose is less description but good, concrete description that stands out by itself. Sure, there are times where you can go on but don't drag it, it becomes hectic to read it while still keeping the imagery of it. Too many words can clutter a reader's brain and especially when you're writing a novel. Don't bore us with unnecessary words.

Your character in here seems slightly vague. From everything I've read of yours, most of you characters are the same. Like, they have slight differences but their characteristics are basically the same. I think you need to spend some more time developing them and figure out their wants and needs, what class they fit into and what type of lifestyle they live. However, it's not that bad so don't fret because it could just be me. I don't know if anyone else feels the same way. Also, I must agree if your mom on the POV. I actually thought this was from a girl's perspective at first. You might want to brush up on the differences between male and female POV's and do some studying on that because it'd help your writing. Another thing I agree with is that the fact that you are dragging your story out, stretching it and pulling the strings and that's when I feel like cutting them. Dissect this piece, take out all the things you've mentioned twice and all the things that you've already clearly stated and throw them away. Take out unnecessary dialogue, description, explanation and burn it because we don't need to know every little gritty detail about everything. Sally likes Harry, Harry likes Mary but Mary is breaking up with Harry because she think she might like Gary instead. <-- Okay, not that simple but keep it precise and clean with snatching description. You might want to take a look at this by Surreal: post784283.html?hilit=good%20prose#p784283
It's pretty good at explaining what I fail to say.

On the bright side of things, I do think your story has potential and it feels very easy-going right now. Since this is the second chapter, I'm not so sure what exactly happened in the first one but overall my feelings for this piece are slightly on the positive side so ups on that. If you take what I mentioned into consideration when you revise this piece, it might be even more interesting to read and listen to. I want to feel one with your characters and right now it's hard for me to connect with them. If you need help in any area, feel free to send me a PM or something and I'll try to help you out in whatever way I can.

Keep it up, Shubhi.
-Dad

Hello there, Shubs!

Here as promised. :3

The words slowly swooshed by me, me trying to grab them with all the force I could produce and they blowing past faster than the light. I tried hard to concentrate on the music, but slowly it was fading in the background, only light beats of it reaching my head. It wasn't like I couldn't hear the music, it was reaching my ears, but a block prevented it from letting it enter my brain. I tried to pull out the block, but failed miserably. I pressed the switch off button to my iPod and reclined back on the bus seat covered with feathered upholstery.

Honestly speaking, I had to read this twice so I could understand Eric's narration. As what Tanya has said, some lines are awkward to read, especially the first one. Your main character seemed to be very conscious about the music, which I don't find significant into the story. Also, there could have been better ways of showing things here. It just seemed too long which ends to nothing, doesn't leave me hooked at all.

Secondly, change or slash those adverbs out. I don't think you need those because they didn't help at all.

The only music ringing in my ears was of the song that me and Ellen had danced to on the prom night. The Celtic music with drum beats and high brass music was enough to welcome a non-dancer like me. I had clutched on her waist, as thin as waffles and drove down in her eyes, like they were a tunnel, full of light. I had looked into her deep amber eyes, contemplating whether I had made a mistake leaving Amy, or whether I was too harsh on her-but that was just a thought, it came and went, like an off-season wind. The truth was Ellen made me feel the way no other girl ever had. She could read my mind, act upon what I've been thinking before I could, just be there for me when I needed her.

Justify your character. If he is truly a man, then there could be some reasons why you should delete some of his emotional thoughts. There are descriptions that would sometimes lead me to think that your MC's a girl. I mean, Eric is actually imagining drum beats and high brass music when he reminisced that dance between Ellen and him. As far as I know, only girls do that. If he misses her, let him say it. Go straight to the point.

Was it wrong of me to want her beside me, a want of listening her speak 'Eric' in her downtown accent with a slight humor adjoining it? Or was it wrong of me to see her grin and watch the light reaching her eyes and twinkling them up? Maybe it was, when her grandmother was nursing her broken ribs at a hospital in a town in a State far away from Buffalo. She needed Ellen more than I needed. But the pain...

You could have explained this much more easier than this, Shubs. Eric is starting to sound poetic (a bit flowery) and it is tad confusing.

"Yeah. Guess so. " He said and clucked out his tongue, licking it.

That should be a comma.

"Just after I reach at my home. Mom's gonna take me there. Doesn't trust dad with me. Like I'm some two year old." He spoke sadly, but replaced the emotion with a grimace.

If there's a speech tag after a dialog, then you should place in a comma, not a period. And the "spoke sadly" doesn't look good here. How do you show that?

~

So, I think the story plot gets boring on the middle part. Nothing climatic happened and it sets me unsatisfied. Not that I'm saying that the plot is bad, it's just how you show things. Some descriptions are not needed and I could even find some info-dumps. And I'm thinking that you're really not taking into account of your character. I mean, there are lots of splattered emotional deep thoughts here. Eric doesn't present himself as "manly" here. So you should think before you write, because sometimes it's essential for a writer to know the major differences between male and female's point of view.

Secondly, balance out your showing. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but it turns out that you're spoon-feeding us that much. Try to be a bit tell-y also. It's unnecessary to describe what color or shape over some things that your MC is seeing. It's because first of all; how does depicting it help the story? What good will it bring to your characters? Is it really that relevant? So try asking those questions to yourself.

You have a good concept, but mostly recounts Eric's contemplation and regrets, which results to... a very bland chapter. Your main character should stand out more. And grammatically speaking, I find this piece pretty neat and clean. The flow is good but some awkward lines can distract the pace. So you might to reread this piece of yours again.

~

I know you have much more up to your sleeve especially when it comes potential, Shubs. I would also apologize in advance if ever you see this review harsh, but anyway, these are all just based on my opinions. Hope this helps and PM me for any questions.

Peace out and keep writing,
Sistah

(~yuri~)

Thanks to all for reviewing my stuff. I know it still sounds cliche and can do with more work, so thanks. The thing with this being boring and too much in depth is that I needed to introduce the character. But I think now after reading he sounds like a girl. I agree. Thanks for the link, Tanya(and also Skins). I'll look into it.

Thanks to all once again-I'll edit it once I'm through with two-three more chapters.

Shubhi! Hey.

You should have told me that you'd posted this! I saw on the novel's old page that you were continuing it by yourself, but I didn't know you'd started posting yet. I should look around more. x3 Okay, you've gotten some wonderful reviews from wonderful reviewers here, so I might not have much to add. I wll try though!

Due to the fact that this is only the second chapter, I'm not going to be too picky or specific. You have plenty of time to answer any questions that I have, or fix any problems. Taking that into account, I will hold back a little. Now, this definitely has potential, Shubs! I'm a bit of a sucker for a romance story, so this is something that I would read. Some fo the descriptions in here are really great, so I give you a thumbs up for that.

Now as for the cliche thing, I'm not going to hassle you about it because I never know what could happen. Take A Shot of Arrogance, for example actually. At the beginning, basically everyone immediately assumed that Ollie and Tori would end together, but it didn't work out like that. In fact, I think it's great in a novel when you begin with something that is thought of as cliche, but then surprise everyone by doing something completely different. If you do that with this, then that is wonderful, Shubs!

Okay, as for the critiques. I know you said that you need the descriptions to introduce the characters, but trust me, there are plenty of other ways of doing so. Remember that this is a novel. Therefore, you don't have to shove all of your characters personality and information into one piece of writing. You have the whole novel to do that. Let me suggest something to you actually. Because this isn't a single POV novel, you've got a bit of an advantage character wise. You can describe your characters personality through another characters eyes.

As for my suggestion, I was thinking that you could maybe concentrate more on describing Eric's character when you're writing in Amy's POV. You may find that easier. The problem right now is that although you have loads of great descriptions here, there are loads of them. They can sometimes feel a little draggy. You can always show characters through dialogue, actions and also how other characters behave around them, as well as descriptions, especially emotive descriptions.

The other critique I have for you is what the others have said really, so I won't go into much detail about it. I have to agree that right now, Eric does sound a little girly. What I will say though is that if you do edit this to make him sound more boyish, please don't stereotype. Don't make him hard because "that's what guys are like". Boys are allowed to have emotions, remember. I think that one of the key reasons for Eric sounding a little girly is due to some of your word choice.

"Mum, it's fine. I got it." I squeaked, and I could hear her mumble something behind the phone.

You spelt mum in the British way! *High fives* Anyway, I bolded the word squeaked here. Do boys really squeak? When their voices are breaking, they squeak a lot, but I'm assuming that Eric's voice isn't breaking. There are plenty of other words you could use here instead of squeaked. You could even just use said, then have Eric fist pump the air or something. Do you see what I mean about your word choice though? Even little things like that can give certain impressions to charatcer's voices.

I've blabbered on a bit here, so I hope you can find something at least a little bit helpful in here. Overall, this definitely ahs plenty of potentail. All that you need to do is to polish it up a bit. Let me know if you have any questions or comments about my review, and I'll be happy to answer the for you.

Keep writing,

xoxo Skins

Looking good shubi!
This is a really good peice. Your imagery was fantastic too.
I'll be waiting eagerly for the next chapter.
You should be proud.
Kaka x

Ok not to be harsh but this chapter seemed very long. It was kind of hard to follow and not as believable. It sounds as if a girl is narrating this chapter. Remember guys and girls don't think the same. You need more description and less self pity. I understand the regrets that Eric is feeling. I like your story and I think your on the right track. Keep up the good work an keep writing.