Young Writers Society

Hey, Lily! I'm here to review this for you. I'm sorry for being a little late to the party. ^^
So, firstly I'd like to say that I don't know much about this program that you're working on, and I only read a short overview of the story "The Lottery" from sparknotes but hopefully my lack of knowledge on this subject won't harm this review too much.

The morning of June 26th was gloomy and dismal, not just the sky but the entirety of North Bennington seemed overcast with an unsettling sense of gloom as the villagers lined up beneath the hulking shadow of Trenor Park’s mansion.

Off in the distance, the church bell rang hauntingly that noon had arrived.

LIly!

Thanks for requesting a review, I'm really glad you did.

So, I searched up Google for Inform since I had no idea about it. I read through some posts but the idea is still not familiar to me. I'd be reviewing you for the story in that case. I don't think you need the review keeping in mind it's an Inform project, so my review might just work fine. Let's see, though.

Let's talk about your first sentence. You're giving a good introduction but when you'll read it again you'll find that it's an horribly long sentence, especially for an opener. Long sentences don't work much and when they are right in the beginning, it 'may' irritate the readers. It's always wise to start with something short and catchy.

Off in the distance, the church bell rang hauntingly indicating that noon had arrived.

The people had performed this ritual so many times that they hardly listened to the directionsinstructions.

Not including Libby Hall and her newly born son (the only two exempt from attending the drawing) the crowd numbered four hundred and twelve; four hundred and eleven of them would be going home today.

The line drawsdrew forward and you shuffled along with the rest of the crowd, take your slip of paper, and tuck it into the sweaty niche of your left palm before cycling around the porch and back out into the lawn until the last of them, elderly Mrs. Geras, hobbled up the steps and took her slip in her fragile clammy palms.

My comments are spaced between double parenthesis. Also, I love The Lottery.



The morning of June 26th was gloomy and dismal, not just the sky ((I would move the 'but to after dismal and start a new sentence after sky)) the entirety of North Bennington seemed overcast with an unsettling sense of gloom((gloomy now gloom? I suggest only use gloom once)) as the villagers lined up beneath the hulking shadow of Trenor Park’s mansion. By noon, yourself ((just you sounds smoother to me, but I don't know if it is grammatically correct)) and the rest of the village had assembled on the lawn, every man, woman and child waiting patiently ((are they really waiting patiently? patiently sounds too peaceful for an execution. I would think that they would be nervous, anxious, or something else considering it could be any one of them that will be chosen )) for Mr. Park to appear on the porch. ((Also, I suggest starting a new sentence at 'every man.'))

Every other aspect of the lottery had already been prepared by Eliza, Trenor’s eldest daughter who stood watch over the barrel of paper slips, holding a ledger while tapping away anxiously against the book with her pencil. Off in the distance, the church bell rang hauntingly that noon had arrived.

At its final toll, Trenor Park, a serious, straight mouthed man in his fifties with gray-white hair who ((cut out "who")) leaned heavily on his walking stick, an intricate clay piece of craftsmanship with a set of clay wings splaying off from the top of the stick. Upon his appearance, Eliza stepped away from the barrel and Trenor breezed up to the front of the porch, leaning his staff against the railing and raising his hands as if he needed to gather the attention of the crowd.

But all eyes were on him as he spoke, ‘I’m glad to see all of you here, healthy, and in fine spirits.’ Someone in the back of the crowd coughed and in the still of the chill day, it reverberated unsettlingly within the crowd. ‘Well, you all know how this goes of course. No need to bother with all the useless chitter chatter. Eliza, if you would like to begin.’

Eliza mumbled something curtly and stepped forward, reaching into the barrel and removing a slip of paper. She didn’t open it, only held on to it tightly in her free hand. ((this last sentence is awkwardly long))

‘Come now, the rest of you! Line up single file at the south end of the porch and make your way up to Eliza, take your slip, and proceed back out into the lawn without opening the slip.’ Trenor instructed, attempting to lift the mood as he dipped his hand into the barrel nonchalantly and pulling out his own slip of paper.

The people had performed this ritual so many times that they hardly listened to the directions. Every man((comma) woman(comma)) and child was expected to draw for themselves and those too young to draw were handed a slip by dutiful, if not sullen-faced, Eliza. Not including Libby Hall and her newly born son (the only two exempt from attending the drawing)((period and capitalize the)) the crowd numbered four hundred and twelve; four hundred and eleven of them would be going home today. ((I forget if the original story explicitly said that someone was going to die. By telling now, the story loses the climax.))

The line draws forward and you shuffle along with the rest of the crowd, take your slip of paper, and tuck it into the sweaty niche of your left palm before cycling around the porch and back out into the lawn until the last of them, elderly Mrs. Geras, hobbled up the steps and took her slip in her fragile clammy palms. (this paragraph is in present tense. Up until now it has been past))

Again, Trenor Park stepped before the crowd along with Eliza who had since closed the ledger and tucked her pencil neatly into her hair. ‘Again, my friends, the time has come to appease the creatures that haunt our lands. Four hundred and twelve slips of paper went into this barrel and none now remain. One persons slip has been marked with a red x. This person shall have the distinct honor of being sent out into the Green Mountains as a gift to the creatures that live within the wild, ensuring for us the security of yet another prosperous harvest and another year safe from misfortune.’

There was an uncomfortably long pause before Trenor, holding his slip of paper before him cleared his throat and said, ‘All right, then.’ For a moment, not a soul moved and then the slips of paper were opened all at once.

The crowd as a whole seemed to sigh before the sudden eruption of women and men alike asking each other ’Who is it?’ and ‘Who's got it?’

You look down at the slip and see that in red ink, the x had been drawn. ((again, this is present tense. ))


I think that you should just convert the rest of it to present tense. Overall, good adaption of an awesome story.