Young Writers Society

Hello there, a review for a review... I mostly sought this out because I was curious what you might have found relatable in the things I wrote. And from reading this I think I can see some reason why. 👀 I'm fully aware this may just be my reading of it, but I'm going to run with it and you can see if it fits.

First of all, I think the narrative voice you have is an absolute perfect fit for expressing that loneliness, sense of isolation, and disassociation to the world that you're communicating. Whether intentional or not, the way he describes the world as if a distant observer, and with all his interpersonal emotions sounding muted and matter-of-fact is spot on. I could feel and relate to it before we even got into the details of the boys life. However, I think whilst that part is spot on you've perhaps been a little nervous to delve into the boys internal emotions...which I'll elaborate on.

When I read this I instinctively thought of the character (and correct me if I'm wrong) as a caring boy who has found himself feeling an outsider and an observer to life. Someone who's main external inputs had become barrages of negative feedback, or interactions he found shallow. He's someone who even at such a young age has experienced quite intense love and reliance, but then has felt abandoned and intensely vulnerable and felt there's been no where to turn for help. He is someone who feels unseen and unappreciated, and he can't understand why. His reaction is to filter all external input and keep it at a safe distance from his inner self so it can't harm him.

Despite those muted emotions to those stimuli, the inner feelings the boy is protecting are raging on in side and being shook up like a can of fizzy drink and he feels ready to explode. That's why he lashes out, he has a wave of such intense emotion that he loses control of his carefully built facade for a split second, but it's enough to make him say something impulsive in some blind rage and in that impulsive moment he genuinely wants to inflict emotional pain as some form of expressing his own. But when that red most lifts, the caring boy is back, and then subdued by guilt, but also because I feel he thinks that anger is an ugly and shameful emotion. Perhaps because he has faced a lot of it undeservedly in the past.

To me it reads as if that subdued part takes over the voice when the boy is meant to be lashing out. At this time I think you really want to make the reader feel that loss of control and that genuine feeling of rage. Don't be afraid to make the character seem ugly and flawed in that moment, because that is the feeling and vulnerability you want him to express. Without seeing that loss of control, it's hard to feel deep empathy for the guilt and self-isolation that follows which is the emotion that I feel you're really wanting to focus on.

Besides that, I think the Old Man is a bit of an empty character at this point. I feel like he's just a necessary prompt for the boy to be made to think certain things and trigger a particular response in the boy... But he doesn't feel like a real character who's been through the life you are suggesting he has been. It might be worth playing around with the imagery of the old man, what is it that the boy seeks in the old man? what sparks his curiosity in him? I feel like there's a reason his voice is very similar to the boy's that's meant to communicate some unspoken link between the two that both somewhat acknowledge, so if you find the part where the two voices overlap and where they differ then you should find what it is that makes the old man's perspective different and can flesh a deeper character and interaction that way.

All in all though, I think it's a beautiful expression of shared loneliness, and something I feel you could come back to and explore more deeply...or perhaps see if the feedback helps elsewhere.

Keep writing.

Hey RandomTalks!

I'm finally getting around to reviewing this one, so let's just jump right in!

It was late afternoon. The sun was angry and it was torching the world with its rays, as though teaching it a lesson. Still the birds that flew had a song in them, and the breeze that blew carried the laughter of children along with it.

The little boy was in his room, playing. He cannot be called little, but he cannot be called big either.

"I will do it later."

He was sitting on a bench facing the water. His white hair combed across his head glimmered in the sunlight and the boy wondered what he was doing there at such an hour. He almost retreated back to the trees, but then he remembered his choices and in a sudden moment of indecision, he went and sat down beside him. The old man didn't look away from the water.

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: Okayy..so we have ourselves a pretty neat start right here...there's not much happening, despite how long this is, but I feel like just about enough happens here to make for a really nice start to this story.

Anyway let's get right to it,

It was late afternoon. The sun was angry and it was torching the world with its rays, as though teaching it a lesson. Still the birds that flew had a song in them, and the breeze that blew carried the laughter of children along with it.

It was summer- the season of games and lemonade, of work and vacations, of happiness and laughter. It was the one time of the year, when the residents of the town with even a little bit of life in them looked forward to. The people walking on the streets were exhausted but they still had a smile on their faces. The children playing in the grounds were sweating and tired, but they still had a joy in them. The trees by the lake were dry and scorching under the sun, but they still had a green to their leaves. And none of it was going away.

It was summer and the people of the town were happy.

The little boy was in his room, playing. He cannot be called little, but he cannot be called big either. He was at the age where he was ridiculed for crying over a movie and forbidden from picking what to watch. He was at the age in between. He was at the age of confusion. And to him, he was the wind, and the boat, and the sailor; he was it all. He was his own world, his mother and father mere figures hanging around in some orbit and his little brother, discarded, hanging at the edge of everything and waiting for the fall.

He wished sometimes that the world worked that way too.

That afternoon his mother was picking up his dishes from where he had abruptly left them to finish a suddenly remembered video game. He was always running around like that and she was tired of always picking up after him, and now his two year old brother, whose belongings covered almost all the floors of the house these days. At least one of them was supposed to know better.

She walked to his room - all his things were lying around the floor and his book still remained open to the page he had been reading, though she wondered if any reading had been involved. His marks had been appalling since the beginning of term and she did not know what to do with another baby to look after.

"I thought I had asked you to clean up your room an hour ago?"

The boy did not look up from his TV screen.

"Did you?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I think I am speaking to you," she said, shifting her weight near the door. She had so much to do - lunch to cook, house to clean and a crying baby to soothe. She felt so tired. Still the boy did not respond. Suddenly she walked into the room and pulled the plug from the board.

"Hey, what are you doing!" the boy yelled, eyes finally turning away from the screen He had just been about to butcher his opponent's head and now he was out of the league! He looked at his mother in shock and anger. His black ignorant eyes missed the black lines under hers.

"Clear your room, or no TV for a week," she said sternly.

He looked around at all the magazines, toys and other garbage he did not even recognize lying around the room. There was no way his mother was going to jeopardize his game and make him clean his room on top of that.

"I will do it later."

"Now, or no TV for a week," his mother's voice was loud and clear. The boy looked at his mother with a steady gaze.

"Fine!" he said, "You can just pack it up and give it all to him. That's what you are going to do anyways."

And he walked out of the house making sure to slam the door hard behind him. He was angry at his parents and angry at the world. It was all fine when it had just been the three of them. But then his brother came along, and everything changed. It was never just them anymore. It was them and him.

Every day, all day, his cries rang around every corner of the house and he felt lost amidst the commotion of it all. That's how he had taken to playing video games in his room all day - it was his own separate world and he was never second there. And to him that was a beautiful feeling.

He walked around the streets and wished he knew where to go.

It was a beautiful day, the kind that ought to be spent in a playground, but he was tired of the same games, the same faces. He could go to his friend's house and bully him into giving him the latest comic book or he could go to the park and see if any of his girl friends were around so he could brag about his imaginary vacation to Africa. Of course, no one ever doubted a word he said, and after a point of time, it got boring. And then, there was the Art Museum a few blocks away that he had been meaning to check out for quite some time now, but.....he ended up going to the lake. It was quiet there - there were none of his rowdy friends or beautiful admirers or interesting artworks he wished he could create himself. It was just him and the lake and....an old man.

He was sitting on a bench facing the water. His white hair combed across his head glimmered in the sunlight and the boy wondered what he was doing there at such an hour. He almost retreated back to the trees, but then he remembered his choices and in a sudden moment of indecision, he went and sat down beside him. The old man didn't look away from the water.

"Troubles at home, son?"

He didn't look at him either as he answered, "No".

"No? Why else would you be sitting here with an old man alone on a summer afternoon?" came that scratchy low voice again. The boy wasn't in a mood to chat and wished he would get the hint, but the old man continued anyways. "How old are you son?"

There was a strange calmness about the lake that almost made him feel at peace for a while, like he could just sit and not think about TV or games or school for the time. Sunlight filtered in through the green tree leaves making shapes across the water. He watched as the shapes shifted and danced along with the slight ripples in the water, and then -

"I remember when I was eleven."

The boy scoffed. "And that was what - centuries ago?"

He hadn't meant to be mean. In fact, he didn't know why he always felt necessary to say things like that. But the old man looked at him then and smiled. He had white hair and a face he wouldn't be able to distinguish from the next aged person he came across, except for the eyes and the smile - they had a kindness to them that made him glow like a softly burning candle.

"And I guess you have a lot of friends at school?" the old man asked, "Admirers too?"

"Loads," the boy replied confidently as if that was a question no one should have to ask. "Did you?" he asked a moment later, although he wasn't very sure why.

"When I was 11, I had glasses and a tooth missing. I was laughed at in almost every corner of the town and when my 'friends' were in a particularly good mood, they would throw mangoes at my window just to get a rise out of me. I was the kid at the back of the class, scrawny and small. I believe even my father had the impression that the slightest wind would carry me away. He actually used to ask my sister to do all the heavy-lifting around the house."

They were quiet for a while and then the boy asked, "Why mangoes?"

"Anything else would have woken up my father," he said jovially.

"And you didn't mind?" If it had been his window, he would have skipped the stones and thrown boulders at theirs.

"Nah," the old man laughed, " Besides I really used to enjoy those mangoes. Such juicy ones they always chose!" He said that in a way that made the boy laugh.

"So that was your childhood? Sitting in back benches and getting mangoes thrown at your windows?" he asked incredulously.

"No," the old man shook his head seriously, "My childhood was entirely dedicated to making the girl I love fall in love with me."

The boy looked at him as if he had just grown another head in the last minute. "Why would you do that?" he asked, horrified. The idea that someone would waste their childhood for that went beyond his understanding.

The old man looked at him strangely, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because when you get a girl to go out with you, it only adds to your troubles. You have to remember her birthday or she gets angry, you have to buy her chocolates or she gets whiny, you have to take her out every now or then or she gets suspicious. Why would you want that for yourself?" He didn't feel like mentioning that he had a dozen admirers at school who expected the same from him.

The old man smiled. "Not all girls are like that."

"Yes, they are."

"No, they are not."

"Yes, they are. You were just too lovesick to notice."

It took him a minute to realize that maybe he shouldn't have said that. Or maybe he should've just apologized. But he had never said the word sorry before in his life and he wasn't just going to start because of some strange old man he had just met. Besides, there was something about the cool, collected way he was looking at the water, like his slight slip of tongue did not even matter and for some reason, it made him just the bit more stubborn.

"Maybe I should go," he said getting up.

"Maybe you should."

The old man didn't look at him as he spoke.

The boy did not say anything else. He just went back the way he came and once he was in his house and his brother's cries and his mother's hurried footsteps echoed around him once again, he felt the loneliness press against him once more. He cleaned his room all by himself and thought that, maybe, he should've just apologized.

Hi RandomTalks! This is a strong start to your novella. Overall, I like that the opening is able to introduce a few characters as well as the main problem the little boy, the main character, is facing, namely that he is self-centered and disregards others.

Characters

I thought the characterisation was really strong in this part. The dialogue scenes helped to present the general impression of what the little boy, the mother and the old man are like, and the more introspective paragraphs added some important nuance to it, like the reasoning behind why the little boy seems so callous towards his mother.

I like how the story shows how each detail of the family situation impacts the little boy. Him playing lots of video games because “he was never second there” seems like something I’m sure could apply to a lot of children. Sometimes ‘the baby’ is just sort of shovelled in there without having an impact on the other characters and the plot, so I’m really glad that you made it an integral part of the main character’s conflict here.

The dialogue between the mother and the child also felt very realistic. The mother repeating the “no TV for a week” line shows how exasperated she is with her kid. And this bit:

The boy did not look up from his TV screen.
"Did you?" he asked nonchalantly.

"No? Why else would you be sitting here with an old man alone on a summer afternoon?" came that scratchy low voice again.

He cleaned his room all by himself and thought that, maybe, he should've just apologized.

The sun was angry and it was torching the world with its rays, as though teaching it a lesson.

It was summer- the season of games and lemonade, of work and vacations, of happiness and laughter.

It was the one time of the year, when the residents of the town with even a little bit of life in them looked forward to. The people walking on the streets were exhausted but they still had a smile on their faces. The children playing in the grounds were sweating and tired, but they still had a joy in them.

He cannot be called little, but he cannot be called big either.

He was at the age in between. He was at the age of confusion. And to him, he was the wind, and the boat, and the sailor; he was it all.

This was a pretty good introduction to the story that occurs in a series. It seems as though the main character is a somewhat bratty and arrogant kid which I guess was the intention, but I think it would have been beneficial to add some more depth to his character. The boy wasn't named so far and I think that this either could have been intentional or some more necessary details needed to be added to clarify things. It was quite vague in the beginning plot wise and I do think that they way the story was presented could use some improvement.

The story definitely got more interesting when he met the old man. The more characters are properly introduced to the story the more engaging it can become. The way the old man started sharing details of his early childhood was very endearing and I think set a valuable element for your writing. It does make a budding relationship between the main character and the old man seem plausible. However they way "the boy" left the house all of a sudden seemed to be sort of sudden. Try to include more internal dialogue so that the character can have some more qualities become evident. I do think that there is a lack of conflict in the writing that would help the story progress better, try to put some more demands on the main character.

I would be curious to read more about the old man in later additions to the series. They way the boy relates to the old man is the start of what would be a pretty enjoyable read. I think this could even have been covered a bit more in the first portion. More should be said about the main character and how he interacts with the old man. I'm guessing that this will be the central point as the story goes on.

Overall it was a pretty interesting read. Try to make the main character more mature and include some details that would enable the story to improve. With some work work I'm sure it could become better.

Keep it up!

This was a pretty good introduction to the story that occurs in a series. It seems as though the main character is a somewhat bratty and arrogant kid which I guess was the intention, but I think it would have been beneficial to add some more depth to his character. The boy wasn't named so far and I think that this either could have been intentional or some more necessary details needed to be added to clarify things. It was quite vague in the beginning plot wise and I do think that they way the story was presented could use some improvement.

The story definitely got more interesting when he met the old man. The more characters are properly introduced to the story the more engaging it can become. The way the old man started sharing details of his early childhood was very endearing and I think set a valuable element for your writing. It does make a budding relationship between the main character and the old man seem plausible. However they way "the boy" left the house all of a sudden seemed to be sort of sudden. Try to include more internal dialogue so that the character can have some more qualities become evident. I do think that there is a lack of conflict in the writing that would help the story progress better, try to put some more demands on the main character.

I would be curious to read more about the old man in later additions to the series. They way the boy relates to the old man is the start of what would be a pretty enjoyable read. I think this could even have been covered a bit more in the first portion. More should be said about the main character and how he interacts with the old man. I'm guessing that this will be the central point as the story goes on.

Overall it was a pretty interesting read. Try to make the main character more mature and include some details that would enable the story to improve. With some work work I'm sure it could become better.

Keep it up!

Hi RandomTalks

I just read the first chapter of this Novel (I'm assuming it's a Novel) and I found it really unique and interesting that the characters are not given names but are just called "the boy" or "the old man". This makes the character background more intriguing as normally the name of a person can allow people to know the race of the character. Not only that, the boy's father seemed to be left out for this entire chapter and the father's relationship with the mother is still unknown, so there is a lot of interesting directions in which this novel could go. Also, I really like the relationship between the old man and the boy because of their different background and personalities.

I don't think I have anything else to add on what you can improve on, that the others have not already said, plus I see that you are on chapter 4 right now so it will be pointless for me to write about what you can improve on for this chapter.

Good job with creating an interesting and mysterious cast of characters!!!

Hey RandomTalks, here for a short review!!

It was late afternoon. The sun was angry and it was torching the world with its rays, as though teaching it a lesson. Still the birds that flew had a song in them, and the breeze that blew carried the laughter of children along with it.

The children playing in the grounds were hot and tired, but the still had a joy in them.

She felt so tired. Still the boy did not respond.

"Hey, what are you doing!" the boy yelled, eyes finally turning away from the screen He had just been about to butcher his opponent's head and now he was out of the league!

Of course, no one ever doubted a word he said, and after a point of time, it got boring. And then, there was the Art Museum a few blocks away that he had been meaning to check out for quite some time now, but.....he ended up going to the lake. It was quiet there - there were none of his rowdy friends or beautiful admirers or interesting artworks he wished he could create himself. It was just him and the lake and....an old man.

Hi RandomTalks,

Mailice here with a short review!

That was a very interesting story you presented here. I assume that the 1 in the title means that there will be sequels. I'm glad about that, because I liked your story a lot.

I liked the introduction of the boy and how you portrayed his character. For the first chapter it's already a good overview for the following chapters. I like the way you presented him and how he is dreaming. Then of course we have the old man and I liked his portrayal as well. It was very refreshing to read the story and I am curious if the boy will go back to the old man again.

What I liked a lot about the dialogues and the plot so far is that there is not much description. At least the place where the two of them are in front of the lake I would have described better to give the reader a good view there. Since for me this place and this scene is the most important in the chapter, I think you could do a bit more to develop it. I also noticed that the descriptions of the appearance are kept quite simple. That's not really a problem, but I think it's still important to write these faces in more detail.
Otherwise there were some minor punctuation mistakes, but I didn't find anything bad. It was a very uplifting chapter and I like how the boy reflects at the end. Some points that stood out to me:

It was summer- the season of games and lemonade, of work and vacations, of happiness and laughter.

The children playing in the grounds were hot and tired, but the still had a joy in them.

He was at the age where he was ridiculed for crying over a movie and forbidden from picking what to watch. He was at the age in between. He was at the age of confusion.

The boy did not look up from his T.V screen.

"Hey, what are you doing!" the boy yelled,

"My childhood was entirely dedicated to making to girl I love fall in love with me."

"Maybe you should,"