Young Writers Society

Okay this was way better with description, that's for sure! but sometimes the descriptions you used didn't quite make sense..... Like this:

And my hair is a very dark brown with strands of red in it that it is made to look red, as where my mother has very red fire hair. It makes her look exotic and other worldly. As he got up from behind the desk he wrapped his arms around his wife.

As he got up from behind the desk he wrapped his arms around his wife. Looking my mother in her eyes, he said......

“Nope. He wants us to meet him in the center of the Earth.” he states and drives off toward the only road we know of.

I look at him dumbfounded, “They can renovate in Hell? Who knew?”

“So does this mean we are going home?” I ask.

Really, I just have the same comments I had for the first chapter.

For instance, when you're trying to convey that the mom's getting up and leaving the table: "She rose slowly, and and began her weary trek to the room she shared with her husband."

I'm not saying you should word it like that--use your own style. However, this is part of what people call "show, don't tell"--by using descriptive words, you can give the reader a clearer picture of what's going on.

That's not to say everything should be descriptive language--the reader still needs to be able to understand what you're saying. However, as you learn and grow in your understand of language and how it fits together, you should play with it as much as possible.

The next few minutes were silent, no one talked and just watched where dad had stood. Then I turned to my mother in hopes of salvaging my attempt.

“Mom, can you talk to Dad for me, please?” I asked with a pleading look in my eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do.” she says getting up from the table and heading towards my dad’s study.

Okay, so my Dad’s study is huge, and when I say huge I mean huge. It looks like an old English professor’s study. With peeling wallpaper, dusty old chairs with the tattered cushions. He sat behind his heavy oak desk with his head in his hands, when my mother walked in. #FF00FF "> How does she know all of this? She’s not actually in the room. Writing in first person means that you can only see what your main character sees, know what your main character knows. If you want to show scenes like this, you have to re-write the story in third person so that we can see all angles.

“The nerve of her to ask me, she knows she can’t go.” He muttered to himself, a scowl on his face.

“Honey, can I come in?” my mother asked, peeking around the doorway into the room.

“Yeah. Come in.” he sighed.

“You know she’s not a child anymore. She’s sixteen and you let J.C. go when he was sixteen. So why do you deny her the right?” my mother asked, leaning against one of the walls, her arms crossed.

“Because she is my little girl. And you know how they are, they are ruthless, unforgiving, and despicable. I couldn't live with myself if something was to happen to her.” he said to his desk, knowing his wife was looking at him with disappointment.#BF00FF "> Good description here. We can really get a sense of the mood.

“Lucas, you need to trust her. We have raised a smart and independent young woman. Now you have to let her be one. Let her go.” she said as he looked up to her finally staring into her eyes.

I think sometimes Dad forgets how pretty Mom really is, I mean they have been together since the dawn of time. People say I look just like her, but I don’t think so. She has big brown eyes that sometimes glimmer gold and mine look yellow. We both have very light skin, but we aren’t pale. And my hair is a very dark brown with strands of red in it that it is made to look red #FF0000 ">what do you mean ‘made to look red‘ , as where my mother has very red fire hair. It makes her look exotic and other worldly. As he got up from behind the desk he wrapped his arms around his wife. #FF0040 ">I like the descriptions here.

Looking my mother in her eyes, he said “Okay, she can go. But if she gets in trouble remember she is your daughter.”

My mother just laughs and they walk back to the dinning room, holding hands. Ugh! Yes my parents still act like they are in love and are teenagers, all that mumbo jumbo. It is so gross sometimes. I stood up to go over to them.

“So. . .can I go?” I ask in anticipation.

They look at each other smiling like they have some secret and I’m not in on it.

“Yes you can go.” my mother says.

At first I couldn’t believe what I heard, smiling I jumped up and down hugging my parents.

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” Exhilaration exploding out of me.#BF40FF "> lowercase x)

Then, my father burst my happy bubble.”But there are rules...” he said sternly.

“Of course.” I muttered under my breath.

“No talking to anyone without my approval or presence, no going off without telling me where you are going and who you are with, and #FF00FF ">most importantly absolutely a hundred percent, if you see those bastards, run. And don’t look back.”

“Lucas. . .” my mother warns.

All I could do was agree and laugh, my parents were so funny sometimes #8000FF ">I didn‘t see what was funny about what they said. After we finished dinner and dessert, Dad and I headed for the red, flame resistant sports car. We were on the highway to Hell. I jumped in the front seat beside my dad, while pulled out of the driveway and down the road to the entrance. Percy, the doorman, opens the gate and in an instant we fall rapidly down towards the ground. It was more like an amusement park. After what felt like an hour of screaming, the ride instantly stopped. We were here. We were in Hell.

“Stay here.” My father warns me as I try to get out of the car. I guess I didn’t see him at the time, but there was a man at the main gate, and he looked like a total freak. Big black horns protruded from the sides of his head, when he smiled you could see the razor like fangs that dropped down from his upper jaw, and his skin was the weirdest color I’d ever seen. It was a rich red, almost like blood staining a white surface. He looked possibly normal for a person except for the orange-red eyes that looked so bright I felt like I was staring straight into the heart of a fire. #FF40FF ">Awesome description!

I could see my father speaking to the man or demon or the man-demon, or whatever the hell he was, but I couldn’t make out exactly as to what they were saying. After what seemed like eternity, my father came back around to the car.

“He’s not here.” he said with a stoic look on his face. “Apparently, they are renovating.” #FF4080 ">haha, what?x)

I look at him dumbfounded, “They can renovate in Hell? Who knew?”

“So does this mean we are going home?” I ask.

“Nope. He wants us to meet him in the center of the Earth.” he states and drives off toward the only road we know of.

Aw!!!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE that i met you. You are the friend that ive always needed!! and YES GOOD BYE WRITER'S BLOCK!!<3

YAY I"M A FORTUNE COOKIE THEY"RE MY FAVORITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I love my sisie's story much more than a dumb cookie XD good luck sisie and hopefully with my genius your writer's block is over XD

Haha. Thanks. And okay my little fortune cookie XD

AWESOME SIS!!!!!!!! Am glad I could help you write it XD good luck and happy writing!!! Will be happy to help with chapter 3 when I finish chapter 4 XD loves ya onee sama hugs* believe in yourself and you'll succeed