For the Better Chapter One

I see you've fallen prey to the No-Setting Bug. Adding a few details about New York- like whether the chapter is set in New York City or in the country- can really set the stage.

I had but a single suitcase for my belongings.

You’ve never really sounded like an Irishman all your life

I am lovin' this so far! This is one story I would definitely keep reading! (despite the fact that I like fiction books)

Oh, I really enjoyed this! The only thing I would like to say about this is that it got me confused. Peter woke up, ate breakfast and then all of a sudden he is at the train station. I thought he was at home, not at a train station. Otherwise, I really liked it.

Keep Writing!
~DeadEndsAreOptional

Very nice start the way you are describing his situation/feelings is very good. Also the way his mother talked, beyond the actual thing of her stay stuff like aye, i could really imagine the way she was talking from her lines in the chapter.
One thing I would add a bit more emphasis on in your next chapters is trying to make it as authentic as possible. Historical novels really make you feel like you are back in time. Research. Research. Research. Look up how a 1930s lower middle class house looked like, then go all out and describe the situation. Add in little details in places that arent necessarily important like the train.
Overall its a nice start and you get the idea of what is happening quickly and efficiently. I like it

Is there going to be another chapter?Because I only saw 1 post on your portfolio.BTW,I want to ask why can't i post my novel?I am writing 2 but I can't post any of them.It says General Error.And how much points do I need?Also,do you happen to know any followers from Malaysia?Thanks for your reply!

I really like this. I think the last reviewer did a good job, so my only suggestion would be to maybe even add a little more detail about his family, because I'm curious about what they're like. You did a good job of keeping the voice readable while giving it an old-fashioned air, so not many complaints. If you're looking for reviews ever, just message me when the next chapter's out.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver

Kwantack wrote:

Spoiler

I'm planning on writing an informational introduction to this later. Yes, I have no title for this yet, probably because I only wrote this just now. Any suggestrions would be appreciated, yet I understand this is only the first chapter (which is rather short, sorry), so if you have any ideas at any time, please let me know. Thanks.

Chapter One


Loud knocks on the closed door woke me, along with the cries of my sister, Rose. “Wake up, Peter, wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up…”

With a yawn, I crawled out of bed, No comma needed. rubbing my eyes, and got dressed. Grogginess overwhelmed my body and it took all of my strength to come out of my bedroom and sit down at the table. Next to me was my five-year-old sister who was holding a small, stuffed bear so tightly that it was painful to witness. Very cute way of putting it! It was obvious that today she had attempted to braid her own hair because of its sloppiness, No comma needed. but it made me smile, which caused her blue eyes to light up with joy.

Mother had been continuously shuffling around the house and talking to herself this whole time, during which she had managed to put a plate of breakfast before me. She had disappeared into a room before I could thank her. Try a comma and then ''disappearing into a room before I could thank her'' instead. Once I had finished, my mother ordered me to start packing, even though she had been doing most of the packing already.

I had but a single suitcase for my belongings. Because of this, I knew my possessions would be limited. Of these possessions, No comma needed. money would find no place, I like the way you put that. for our family was poor—very poor—as were most of the families of New York. My mother made sure that I had plenty of paper to write home as soon as I could, along with a container for water, my pocket watch, a small portrait of my family, and a map of America. Why does he need a map of America if he's just going to his uncle's house? Even though my suitcase remained mostly empty, I knew that considering the adventure before me, it would seem like a lot.

When I returned to the kitchen, Mother was talking so fast that I could not understand what she was saying. “Mother, slow down!”

She sighed. “The train leaves soon, Peter, we’ve got to hurry. Now, do you have all your belongings? Did you pack the paper I gave you?

“Yes, mother, I’ve the paper.”

“Be sure to take your coat,” she reminded me, No comma needed. as she grabbed my grey coat You just said coat, maybe substitute it for jacket? and hat, then handing it to me. “You’ve everything you need?”

“Yes.”

My mother looked up at me with sad eyes. “I can’t believe you’re already taller than your own mum. You’re really growing up now…what are you, fifteen?”

I didn’t answer.

“You’ve never really sounded like an Irishman all your life, you know? With no accent, I mean. Unlike your father and I you speak like other folk around here—“

“This is my home, mother. America is my home.” And it was. I was born American and shall be for the rest of my life. Never had I the urge to go to Ireland. I couldn’t even imagine everyone talking like my mother in one place.

“Yes, I know,” she looked down, and held out her hand. “Peter, I—I want to you take this.”

When I looked, I saw five dollars in my mother’s palm. “No, mother, you need the money here. That is why I’m leaving, remember? You’ll only have to feed Rose and yourself, now. And until father returns, you’ll need all the money you can find.”

Mother looked up again, nodded, and walked away. Rose came up to me,No comma needed. now sad, No comma needed. and embraced me, still holding her bear in her hand. “Don’t go, Peter!”

“Rose…”

A distant train whistle cut me off. My mother returned, after had been crying it seemed, now with a worrisome face. “Peter, go. Now! Before you miss the train!” Don't train whistles usually sound seconds before the train departs or is the noise simply reminding the mother of the train he has to catch?

I grabbed my suitcase and put on my hat as I headed out the door. When I got to the edge of our lawn, I looked back at my family, er, most of it, anyway. Mother was standing in the doorway with Rose next to her. “Now remember,” she instructed, “go to your uncle’s house and stay there until word from us. When your father comes back, everything will be right again.”

With a nod, I set out for the station with a fast pace, hoping that I wouldn’t miss the morning train. Surely father wouldn’t be back for weeks or even months. As I was walking, I saw the headline of the local newspaper: THE DEPRESSION IS HERE: SAVE YOURSELVES. Sadly, it was true. Life as I knew it was gradually getting worse, money tighter, and jobs rare. Moreover, I knew that the sight of my family in the doorway was the last time I would be seeing my family for a long time.

Why hadn’t I looked longer?

Really Nice!

Kwantack wrote: Mother had been continuously shuffling around the house and talking to herself this whole time, during which she had managed to put a plate of breakfast before me. She had disappeared into a room before I could thank her. Once I had finished, my mother ordered me to start packing, even though she had been doing most of the packing already.

I had but a single suitcase for my belongings. Because of this, I knew my possessions would be limited. Of these possessions, money would find no place, for our family was poor—very poor—as were most of the families of New York.