Young Writers Society

Well, I'm not going to be posting on this... you mean on the other part where I've got chapters one and two? I have no idea, honestly. I've got most of the story planned out in my mind, so it's really just a matter of spending some time writing and revising it.

When are you going to post more???? Please post more soon!!!

NOTE: The edited prologue is (finally) posted.

Snoink wrote:Ha ha ha...

Okay, I am absolutely going to rip this to shreads. And I am going to have fun doing it!

Snoink wrote:The other thing: your description sucks.

I know, I know... I'm not supposed to be mean. But when I was reading this, I was thinking, "Oh man! This idea is so awesome! If only she described this more..."

Snoink wrote:I'm not sure if this is a worthwhile prologue or not. I know, I sound depressing. But I'll read more and tell you what I think. Okay?

Ha ha ha...

Okay, I am absolutely going to rip this to shreads. And I am going to have fun doing it!

First person is a little bit tricky to do. Believe me -- I know. I once was writing for four characters in a storybook RPG, which was in first person, and my sister couldn't help but noticing how all my characters sounded the same. Oops. So the dragon, unicorn, teenage girl, and gryphon sounded the same? Not good...

So I know where you are. What is your problem? Your character is an absolute genius.

Consider this:

I curled up my toes and wished the day would never end.

My bored eyes glanced over the classroom. There, in one corner was a girl with the frizziest hair ever seen. She was wearing a tee-shirt that said “I am # 1, and don’t you forget it!” She was talking about how unfair it was that football was allowed for girls although it didn’t look like anyone was listening.

Then there was a small girl that kept lamenting about her name, Moonfang. Actually I thought it was rather pretty. It reminded me of a dragon soaring, its silohette displayed on the moon as it traveled in the night sky searching for a cow to sink its teeth in. Then the cows would panic from the dragon’s shadow and the dragon would grab one by the neck with his talons and then begin ripping the beast apart as the cow mooed wildly until finally the beast’s throat was opened and the cow died in its own blood.

Beautiful stuff really.

My bored eyes glanced over the classroom. There, in one corner was a girl with the frizziest hair ever seen. She was wearing a tee-shirt that said “I am # 1, and don’t you forget it!” She was talking about how unfair it was that football was allowed for girls although it didn’t look like anyone was listening.

Then there was a small girl that kept lamenting about her name, Moonfang. Actually I thought it was rather pretty. It reminded me of a dragon soaring, its silohette displayed on the moon as it traveled in the night sky searching for a cow to sink its teeth in. Then the cows would panic from the dragon’s shadow and the dragon would grab one by the neck with his talons and then begin ripping the beast apart as the cow mooed wildly until finally the beast’s throat was opened and the cow died in its own blood.

Beautiful stuff really.

“Charlie, hand me that sponge over there.”

Okay, I knew that was stupid to say, but I didn’t want to lie to her nor did I really want to tell her the truth. Only Sally should know. As for my classmates? They betrayed me way too much. Their loose lips couldn’t hold up to the truth.

Charlie glared and pegged me in the head with the sponge. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked bewildered.

“It means that I want the sponge.” I turned and started scrubbing the dishes. “How did you know I lived here anyways?”

“Are you being stupid on purpose or what?” she yelled. “I mean, I ask you a simple question, and you start dodging it.”

Hi Areida07,
I would appreciate your comments on "Sylvin," but its really long, so take your time. But, what I really wanted to say was, your story really is a good start. It has a tremendously good bone structure there for you to build on. Now, all you have to do is tweek it and play with it. Most people tend to find editing a real chore and don't get me wrong, I don't relish the thought of tearing my work apart and putting it back together again either, but I do like that editting and revising gives me a chance to have fun with my work. When you first write stories you are so worried about getting all your ideas down, let alone if everything is grammatically correct or fluid. So, when I go back I not only get to check the spelling, but I try to let my imagination run off of what I have already established and flesh out my work. - - Of course, then you have to do it over and over again, because you miss things and that is the part that gets really tedious to me. Well, I am glad that you found my responses to your story helpful and I hope that I was not too critical; you are a very talented writer and I hope to read more of your writing in the future.
-Brooke (BamickAZ)

This is a really neat story! A sad start though, which could be a bad tone to set for the rest of the story, I liked the first part really well, but the second part was rather confusing to me, i had to read it twice to understand it, I think you should go through it slowly and see if it makes sense to you, it might just be that I'm tierd.

FantasyTeen

Sorry it took me so long to reply, Bamick. I really do appreciate all your comments.

The fact that the Mom says, “I will always love you” is a little too prescribed. I wouldn’t use it, but it is up to your discretion.

The Twelve Days of Christmas
Prologue

I curled up my toes and wished the day would never end.
In the first line you say, “I curled up my toes and wished the day would never end,” this seems a bit too childlike to me. There is a difference between the character’s knowledge and the knowledge that needs to be imparted to the audience by the writer. I also think this would be a great place to introduce the scenery as to “show” us a picture of what is happening. So maybe try something like, “I curled up my small toes making the wet sand beneath me squish and tickle my feet until the icy sea water rushed up to clean away the sand. Today had been so perfect, I wished that it would never end.” Now, you don’t have to use that exactly, but if you want to use some of its ideas that’s fine. My point was to give you an example of what you could do with it. In fact the sentence I wrote seems too long for an opening line, so I would chop it in half if it were my story.

“Come along, Addie!” my mother called.
Moving on, in line 2, when the mother speaks, you just repeat her words. Where is she standing in the picture, does she hold her hand out to Addie or what is she doing?

I leaned down and captured a tiny seashell in my chubby fingers before beginning my slow trek along the sand.
Very good!

“Your daughter defines procrastination,” I heard my mother say, only half-kidding.
Who is the mother talking to here? The first time I read this it didn’t make sense, because I thought she was talking to the little girl.

My father laughed and jogged down the beach, lifting me easily. “We’ll come back tomorrow, all right, Addie Bell?”

I pouted, wriggling in his arms. “But I wanted to get more seashells.”

“Will a shoulder-ride suffice?” he asked.

I considered this offer momentarily. “All right. But you promise we’ll come back, Daddy? You promise?”
Great dialogue with the Dad!

He laughed again, a great, booming laugh. “I promise.” Then he set me on his shoulders and we ran back to my mother, who was smiling and shaking her head.

“You spoil her, Richard.”

“She makes it easy. She looks just like you.”
Give us some indication of the parents’ tones of voice or body movements or something. Don’t drop the scene just because you are using dialogue, its okay to do this every once in awhile, but most of the time the reader will be like, “Well, what’s going on though?”

Slightly mollified, my mother smiled and held out her arms. “Come on down, Addie.”

Wanting to please my mother, I obliged and she set me on my feet, taking one hand as my father held the other.

“Swing me!”
I think the holding hands thing is fine, but you might want to consider how old your character is. If she is very young then keep the swinging activity, but play down the child’s awareness and intelligence and give that back to the omnipresent writer that you are and who describes scenes through the text and not your character’s voice. If Addie is older then use her as your full blown narrator with superior intelligence and awareness.

My father squeezed my hand. “What do you say, young lady?”

“Please.” I corrected. “Please swing me.”

“One…two…three!”

Suddenly, my feet left the sand, and I giggled and shrieked delightedly. “I’m flying!"

When we arrived back home, my mother combed my dark hair and set me on my bed. I sat cross-legged, tracing the carving of a sun on the headboard that my father had created. “Daddy?”
GOOD details!

“Hmm?”

“Will you put this seashell on a chain for me? Please? I wanna wear it around my neck like a princess.”

My father smiled. “Like a princess, huh? Well, I think we can manage that.” He left the room and returned momentarily, holding a golden chain. He held out his hand and I placed the shell in his palm.

“It’s so small,” I said, wrinkling up my nose and smiling.

“Just like you.” He said, stringing the chain through a hole in the shell. “There.” He put it around my neck and I fingered it gently.

“It’s so beautiful, Daddy…” I said in wonder.

“I’m glad you like it, Princess Addie.” I giggled as he tapped me on the nose.
Again, good dialogue with the Dad.

“Come on, Addie.” my mother said, laying me down. She shooed my father out of the room. “Honestly, Richard, you’re just as bad as she.” She put her hand on her hip. “I’ll deal with you later,”
The Mom shooed the Dad out and then spoke to him, that doesn’t seem right, even if she was talking to him through the doorway. Maybe rearrange it like this, [“Come on, Addie.” my mother said, laying me down. Looking at my father she put her hand on her hip. “Honestly, Richard, you’re just as bad as she is,” she said as she shooed my father out of the room.. “I’ll have to deal with you later.” She remonstrated at him.]

“I’m counting on it,” My father winked.

My mother blushed as I pulled my fingers reluctantly away from the intricate contours of the shell. “Why is your face so red?”
I like the flirting between the Mom and the Dad. Nice touch!

“Never you mind.” she said sternly, though she was smiling. “Goodnight, love.” she pulled the covers over my shoulders and Isnuggled down into my bed.
Grammatical error: isnuggled should be I snuggled

“Mommy?” I sat up.

She turned in the doorway. “What is it, sweetheart?”

I looked to the window, where I could see one star shining faintly. “Will you leave the window open? Please.”

She smiled and crossed the room, lifting the window and allowing the warm summer breeze to enter the tiny bedroom.

“Thank you.” I settled back into the cool quilts, yawning.

“You’re welcome, Addie. I love you.”

“We’ll go back tomorrow, right Mommy?”

“Of course, darling.”

“I love you, Mommy…” I murmured, drifting off.

“I will always love you.” She whispered, and then I fell asleep.
The fact that the Mom says, “I will always love you” is a little too prescribed. I wouldn’t use it, but it is up to your discretion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes flew open.

My room was bathed in moonlight. I heard the old grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. Something was wrong.

I flung the covers off my legs and lowered myself to the ground carefully, my bare feet touching the wooden floors. Plodding softly across the room, I reached up and turned the knob.

I wandered down the hall, past the grandfather clock, which was announcing the midnight hour. The door to my parents’ room was cracked open. I reached up and pushed it with one hand, the wooden rectangle creaking open.
Good description in these last two paragraphs.

“Mommy?” I whispered.

A hand clamped itself over my mouth and I screamed. Though it was muffled, my parents sat up in their bed and I heard my mother gasp.

“Don’t move.” the voice said.
Maybe say, “a voice” instead of “the voice,” for you have yet to establish “the voice” as a character.

My father, who was easing out of bed, froze.

“Good. Now, go to that box on the table.”

My father made a motion as if to stand.

“Not you.” the voice snapped, then it became soft again. “Her.”

I could see my mother’s dark eyes wide with fear in the moonlight. Clutching a blanket to her chest, she climbed out of the big bed and crossed the room, her bare feet silent. She lifted the wooden box, which I knew contained my mother’s solitary diamond necklace and some savings. I wasn’t allowed to go near the box.

“Open it.” The voice commanded.

My mother lifted the lid.

I looked at my father, whose teeth were clenched and his face was pale.

“Take out any jewelry and coins and bring them here. I want to put them down in front of me. Don’t try anything.”
Grammatical error: “I want to put them down in front of me” should be “I want you to put them down in front of me.”

I felt one hand release me momentarily. Before I could wonder at its absence, I felt something cold against my neck.

I stiffened and looked to my mother. Pure terror filled her eyes. “Please don’t hurt her.” she whispered.

“Bring the box here.”

Uncertainty was added to the emotions raging across my mother’s face. “Do you want me to take the things out or just bring the box?” she asked.

“Don’t stall, lady.” the voice said, pressing the cold metal closer to my throat.

“I’m not stalling.” my mother insisted. “Please, just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Just bring it here!”

“Which?”

“Amy,” my father warned.

“Stay out of this!” the man yelled, pointing a knife in my father’s direction.

Was that what had been next to my throat? Fear welled up inside me. “Mommy…”

“Shh, Addie, be still.”

“Bring it to me!”

“Amy, please do it.”

I could hear the sneer in the man’s voice as his sweaty palm stayed clamped across my mouth. “Yes, and that lovely ring on your finger too.”

My mother clenched her fist and looked uncertain.

“It doesn’t matter.” I heard my father said in a choked voice. “For the love of God, Amy, just give the man what he wants.”
Grammatical error: “I heard my father said” should be “I heard my father say.”

She took a step forward, and then the conflict in her eyes was resolved. Flinging the box away, she snatched me out of the man’s arms.

I saw a flash of silver and heard a scream.

“Daddy!” I screamed.

“NO!” My father shoved the man to the ground, but like rat, he scrambled away, grabbing the box, and fled the room.
Grammatical error: “but like rat” should be “but like a rat.”

“Addie!” He scooped me up. “Where is it? Oh, Addie Bell, where did he hurt you?”
Who is he, the guy who was running away or Daddy? Be specific.

I was sobbing. “Daddy, Daddy,” I clung to him.

I saw fear and anger in my father’s eyes as he peeled my arms off his neck. “Let me see, sweetheart. Where did the bad man hurt you?”

I looked down at my white nightgown and saw a dark stain of red. I touched the fabric with one finger. “It’s not mine, Daddy.” I said.

Comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh, God…oh no…”

He set me down and reached for my mother. She wasn’t moving.

He turned her over on her back, and I saw the knife lying on the wooden floor next to her, a dark pool gathering quickly.

“Amy,” he moaned. “Oh, Amy.” He lifted her in his arms, cradling her like a child.

She reached up slowly, as though it were a great effort. “Richard…” she whispered.

“Shh…” he put his finger to her lips. “Don’t…” he choked. “Don’t try to speak.”

“I love you. Take care of Addie. She’s…she’s got to fly.”

“Don’t go, Amy. Oh, please don’t go. We need you.” A tear rolled down my father’s face and fell into the dark puddle at his knees.

“Mommy?” I scooted closer, touching her foot. It was cold…so cold.

“I love you…” she whispered, then her eyes closed.

My father’s fist clenched, then he drew my mother up to his chest, his body wracked with sobs.

I stood, shaking my head. No. I stumbled backward, disbelieving.

And before I fled the room, the last thing I saw was my father rocking my mother’s dead body back and forth. His face was haunted, streaked with tears, and his eyes shone with hatred.

Then I ran.
It seems strange to me that she just ran off after she was almost killed by a thief, who might still be around somewhere. However, I do like the ending and the entire action part of the story, you portray the character’s reactions very well.

I really loved your story and I think you have some real talent. One last thing that I would suggest to you is about your overall formatting. It seems to me that you are confused about how to format the sentences and paragraphs for reading. Such as the fact that about every other sentence or so you skip a line. It is true that a paragraph can be only a couple of lines, look at any newspaper for justification of that, but you don’t usually see that in a novel or short story. So, my suggestion to you is for you to pick up your favorite book and check out how it is structured. Pay special attention to how the dialogue is formatted. Use the book or any good book as a tool to help you. Well, I really enjoyed reading your work and I hope you will do the same for me. Soon, I am going to post a section of a very long story of mine under the Fantasy Fiction Forum, please look for it. It’s tilted, “Sylvin.” I hope my comments were helpful to you.

Wow, I'd really appreciate that. Thanks very much.

Your style of writing is really good and captivating, however there are places where you could polish your technique. I actually don't have time to critique your story more thoroughly right now, but I will come back to it later and write down all my reactions for you to go over. I am in college and I have an evening class tonight, so I have to run. But I wanted to say that I really liked your story and I will return to critique it for you in more detail soon.
-Brooke or BamickAZ or whatever

Thanks, areida It did clear it up. I didn't mean she went from being young in the prologue, to the chapter one, I mean't she seemed older in the second scene of the prologue...if that makes sense!

Its a bit hard to elaborate on the 'jumbled'...it was here and there, and I dunno....I can't explain! lol

Boni_Bee wrote:A good start, but everything moved along really quickly. She went from being a little 6yr old (?) to more like an eight or nine year old.

Boni_Bee wrote:I liked the beach scene, but the rest was sort of jumbled. How would a 6yr old know when something was wrong? The robber disapeared into thin air....

Boni_Bee wrote:It doesn't really give me much history on why she is with her Uncle and Aunty now, but I'm glad I know a bit of Adelaides history.

A good start, but everything moved along really quickly. She went from being a little 6yr old (?) to more like an eight or nine year old. I liked the beach scene, but the rest was sort of jumbled. How would a 6yr old know when something was wrong? The robber disapeared into thin air....
It doesn't really give me much history on why she is with her Uncle and Aunty now, but I'm glad I know a bit of Adelaides history.

Keep up the good work

This is so good!!!!! I can't give it any brutal critisisum! the only thing I would say is what Reichieru said, give us more information about the sorrundings.
But one thing; where is the robber after he kills Amy? he seems to kind of just dissiper.
And it didn't really seem that the robber had cut the girl, I knew instantly it was Amy. Maybe work on that to make it seem that he cut the girl, not Amy. Or maybe you ment it to be that way.

"My eyes flew open.

My room was bathed in moonlight. I heard the old grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. Something was wrong."

The first part of this made the girl seemed very childish and young, but these two sentences right here made here seem older. And then it went back to young.
But I really love this! i'm off to read chapters 1 and 2

The beginning seemed to imply that the father was the one to die, or it seemed so to me, anyway. Then the scene with the mother coming into the girl's bedroom made it pretty obvious. It was kind of a twist, but I think it would be better if the girl's special bond with her mother was established right in the beginning. Also, the ending of the prologue seemed kind of unbelievable. I don't know... while I was reading the robber part, I was questioning it, like, "Would he/she really do/say that?" So maybe you could change a few details there. I REALLY liked the last sentence; nice job.

Thank you so much, Reichieru.

Anyone else? Seriously....be brutal. I really want to make this the best it can be.

I would love to give you some really harsh critisism, but this was pretty darn good. You kept me interested for the entire story (not an easy task) and made me care about the characters. The thing you could do to improve it would be to include more details. Just give us more information about every aspect of what the people and the setting look like, and who they are. Play with the all senses. Sound, sight, smell, touch, even taste. The dialogue could also use a little work to sound more natural. Don't worry too much about that, though. Natural-sounding dialogue will come with time.

Normally I wouldn't do this but I need some really harsh feedback (who ever would have thought I'd ask someone to rip my story to shreds.. ).

SoooOooOo....*shameless bump*

very touching beginning. I really don't like sad starts but this story will eventually have a happy ending, right?
Read my dragonquest excerpt if you've got time!