A Stupid Plan

*LilyJamey~ (love the name, by the way)

Here are my thoughts & comments while reading this.

*Book to Book~
I couldn't really tell what was happening in the beginning. Was it either The Odyssey or the MC's manuscript? But once I read on, I finally understood what was going on. So maybe a little clarification would help, for the dummies like me.

*Just an average day~
To others it might be an average teenage story, but to me, it was short, sweet and cute. I liked it and really enjoyed it. But, maybe you could of added a twist to the end, so it would of have us guessing. Just a thought.

*Overall~
Like I said before, it was really cute. There were some parts I couldn't understand, but I got the gist of it. So I congratulate you on a job well done. Congrats!!

*Merry

Ha, this was so cute!
I feel the same way ALL the time.
I see a cute guy, try to act cool, but I'm not cool.

Anyway, I thought it was adorable and you're a very talented author.
See yeah!

Also, the narrator doesn't even mention how much she likes him, besides "He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on," which is ironic since the narrator elaborates on everything else too much.

The word "Where" should be replaced with "Which."

I don't know why the narrator is so anxious about the boy not thinking she was reading the paper.

It would have been great if you described what he looked like or what features the narrator was most attracted to.

Hi! I'm Jordan and I will be revieiwing your story.

First of all, I liked when you described how she thought she looked and sounded when the guy came over to her. I also liked that you made the little idea of a guy seeing a girl reading - blah blah blah, and turned it into a decent sized story. Now, I think you could have used a little more detail on the gut that came over... but Overall, your story was great!

Keep Writing and good luck on further stories!

It's hard to follow along to this story when the narrator constantly over-evaluates everything, reminds me of Bella in Twilight. Though, the concept of the short story is all right, it could have been much better. The guy could have directly or indirectly flirted with the narrator, actually sinuating 'hope' for her to go out with him. Also, the narrator doesn't even mention how much she likes him, besides "He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on," which is ironic since the narrator elaborates on everything else too much.

I sat on the stone bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage animal that was my bag.

“I’m not actually reading it. Double-checking my story, to be honest.” Drat his piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well that I was hyperaware of him, jolting at every step closer he took, that I had been waiting for this, planning to the last second. He knew too well that I wasn’t reading at all, that the moving of my eyes was a complete façade. And he could hear my breath quickening, see my ears pricking to catch every word he said. My pupils must have dilated an inch to see all of him. I sounded ridiculous. I looked homely. My pose was awkward. Self-consciousness chained me down to the rack and twisted.

My friends were definitely blind. He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on. I could testify to that.

And now he looked at my book – avoiding my gawk, maybe?

Wow! This wasn't just a sucky teenage soap-opera-like crush story, although in all truth I expected it to be. I'm amazed at the extent of your vocabulary, especially in a somewhat colloquial piece. It's really refreshing to hear the word "qualm" and a suppressed giggle in the same story. You've earned yourself a gold star from me!

My pupils must’ve dilated an inch to see all of him.

Aw, thanks...
Actually (God, I love that word!), this was a random excerpt from my long-abandoned HP fan fic. I trashed it years ago, but it isn't easy to let go, even if it is just a piece of trash.

I edited it!

And Meep, actually I used to be like that... at the time I wrote the story. I was pathetic.

TL, I think you're right, somewhat. It's pretty average. And she's waiting for him to arrive. It's her plan - she pretends to read so he will notice.

I sat on the school bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage machine that was my bag. [savage animal perhaps?]

The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and sacrificed it I did.
[ok thought I'm liking the yoda-esque feeling of this sentence, I think you should re-invert it-so I sacrificed it]

It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, so I had to murmur under my breath.

“’He tweaked his bowtie, carefully checking his tuxedo in the long mirror. Even as he – ’ fine, I give up!” Frustration filled me like milk an empty cream jar. Not a word had registered in my brain. I could never pull this off. Just stare at the words, I thought to myself. Stare at the words. I would never have thought of doing this, but my unwittingly stupid mind devised this plan, and dragged me along for the ride. So here I was. Waiting, prop in hand. Just waiting.

“The Odyssey, huh?”

[ I GET IT LOL]

I looked up, and finally, there he was. Instantly, I felt like an idiot.

“I’m not actually reading it. Double-checking my story, to be honest.” Drat his piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well that I was hyperaware of him, jolting at every step closer he took, that I had been waiting for this, planning to the last second. He knew too well that I wasn’t reading at all, that the moving of my eyes was a complete façade. And he could hear my breath quickening, see my ears pricking to catch every word he said. My pupils must’ve dilated an inch to see all of him. I sounded ridiculous. I looked homely. My pose was awkward.

Self-consciousness riddled me with fears. {my fears caused me to be unordinarily self-conscious}


You definitely have alot of emotion in this, and excellent diction. It's just you need less description, and more action! I still don't know anything! It's confusing, but you have great potential, keep writing this story, I'll be waiting!

Aww...so sweet.
Was kind of disappointed that it ended so fast.
I thought the girl would be more disappointed than happy in the end,
Because he came and went so fast, and he liked the book while she didn't.
But that's just my twisted logic
I like the way you described how she reacted when the boy approached her.
HYPERVENTILATION! I love that word.
But the part where you were describing the books content,
Wasn't really well done. I think.
But I liked it overall.
Good job

LilyJamey wrote:I sat on the school bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage machine that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and sacrificed it I did.* It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to [s]actually[/s] make an effort to read. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, so I had to murmur under my breath.

LilyJamey wrote:“’He tweaked his bowtie, carefully checking his tuxedo in the long mirror. Even as he – ’ fine, I give up!” Frustration filled me like milk an empty cream jar.* Not a word had registered in my brain. I could never pull this off. Just stare at the words, I thought to myself. Stare at the words. I would never have thought of doing this, but my unwittingly stupid mind devised this plan, and dragged me along for the ride. So here I was. Waiting, prop in hand. Just waiting.

LilyJamey wrote:“I’m not actually reading it. Double-checking my story, to be honest.” Drat his piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well that I was hyperaware of him, jolting at every step closer he took, that I had been waiting for this, planning to the last second. He knew too well that I wasn’t reading at all, that the moving of my eyes was a complete façade. And he could hear my breath quickening, see my ears pricking to catch every word he said. My pupils must’ve dilated an inch to see all of him. I sounded ridiculous. I looked homely. My pose was awkward. Self-consciousness riddled me with fears.

LilyJamey wrote:My friends were definitely blind.* He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on. I could testify to that. And now he looked at my book – avoiding my gawk, maybe? I looked down also. The manuscript was tugged gently out of the paper clip and my hands, but I couldn’t have refused him anyway. I closed the book, before turning to him to see his reaction. He read with amazing speed, I noticed; his eyes darted back and forth at the speed of sound. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t all that far off from the truth. Within those five minutes, he handed it back to me.

Hi! From your title, I assume that this stands by itself and is just a short story?

Romantic fiction is never my thing, but even so, this was rather boring. Girl interacts with boycrush and goes home with new hope. It'd be all right as a scene of something bigger, but standing by itself, it has nothing to support it. There's no plot or action or conflict or anything to help it. It falls flat.

Abandoning the personification, another thing that detracted from the story was your lack of description.

I sat at the bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage machine that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and sacrificed it I did. It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, so I had to murmur under my breath.

“’He tweaked his bowtie, carefully checking his tuxedo in the long mirror. Even as he – ’ fine, I give up!” Frustration filled me like milk an empty cream jar. Not a word had registered in my brain. I could never pull this off. Just stare at the words, I thought to myself. Stare at the words. I would never have thought of doing this, but my unwittingly stupid mind devised this plan, and dragged me along for the ride. So here I was. Waiting, prop in hand. Just waiting.

Within those 5 minutes, he handed it back to me.

I waved, smiling at him, a featherbrained giggle threatening to escape my upturned lips. Turning around, I walked away, my ears ringing with his bass-toned voice, my eyes tinted by the bliss of his smile.