Published December 9, 2013
The Most Exciting-Terrifying-Super-Exstatic-Fun-arific-Ultra-Scary-AdventureA Story by RedRozeNinja13The world is meant to be fun. That’s the way I look at it. If you aren’t having fun, you would just be wasting your time, right? There’s no point in wasting your life doing things that don’t really make you happy- unless it hurts other people. Because that would be a no no, you hear me? A No. No. Unfortunately, living in the boring, monotonous world that we do, it is quite easy to lose interest or get bored...particularly if you are often referred to as “having a smaller attention span than a goldfish.”.....I would just like to point out that that is not true…..most of the time…. ……………...Ok, Some of the time…………. I’m just a little scatterbrained is all- other people just can’t think as fast as me. I think super fast. Like, faster-than-a-speeding-bullet fast,...ninja fast. And in a boring world like ours, fast thinking isn’t exactly….understood very well. I grew up without many friends, home schooled by my protective mother, and reading books almost nonstop because...to be honest? Sometimes it seemed like they were the only things that could ever truly understand me, or would ever really be there for me. People?....People were unreliable. Sometimes they left you and they didn’t come back….Sometimes they would hurt with words in ways you never thought they could…. But back on track!(I apologize, that may happen a lot…) Growing up like this, I had to make my own fun a lot of the time. Not that I really minded. I was an imaginative little girl, and I loved to put my imagination to use. I still do, I’ve always loved using it to spread smiles and laughter, even though I knew deep inside that the laughter would only last for a moment, and then I would just be “that girl” again. Honestly, maybe I became such an overly happy person because I didn’t want to be that insanely sad person. “You decide who you are” my father had always told me. And that means nobody else can choose that path for you, I choose to be happy because the alternative is just….depressing. And I can’t even begin to imagine myself as a depressing person. And once again I’ve strayed from the point- So I believe I’ll just “get on with it”. That would be nice, hm? I’m a storyteller of sorts, and I would just, perhaps, if you were interested, like to share a little story with you that may make you smile. If that would be ok? It’s a story about my day of adventure- and how seeing things through a different lense? Well, It really can make the world a whole lot more interesting…. This is the story- About the most Exciting-Terrifying-Super-Exstatic-Fun-arific-Ultra-Scary-Adventure of my life. ..... Every adventure starts with some mind shattering occurrence- Something that makes the hero ready to fight against all odds and obstacles, something that rocks said hero’s foundation right to the core. Well, I was seven years old when I went on the biggest-most-absolutely-real adventure of my life. We’ve already covered (I think?) that I was an only child, and most of the time my father was away- he was in the army. And to this day, it is something I do not hold against him. I was happy for him, to find his own adventure to go on, to have the courage to protect what he loved… But still….it hurt...being just Mom and I all of the time…. And that day, that day of my greatest adventure, we were in a strange place. A place foreign and yet familiar to me, a place I did not understand. It was there that my mother was taken from me. At least, that is what I assume and am assured truly happened. She had to of been taken, because I turned around- and through the bright colors and swarms of people, I could not see her….I was both terrified and mortified. My mother? The only one who had constantly been there for me? The only one who loved me, Gone? I could not stand for that! I remember sitting there, scared to tears on the ground. The sun was shining through the forest leaves around me and I could feel the grass under my feet. If I listened hard enough, between the clamor of the people and other ruckus- I could hear the chirping of the crickets and tune-like calls of the songbirds. They seemed to encourage me to get up- to be strong, like my papa always was. And so I did. I got up and looked around again, it was confusing at first- the bright colors swirling around me, all of the sounds- It made me dizzy. But once I became accustomed to the confusion- I was able to think more clearly. I looked around carefully, and I pushed my way tediously through the people, towards the edge of the clearing- Where a map lie trampled on the ground. Perhaps my mother’s kidnapper had left it behind? Well, I was little, and I certainly believed that it was. I beheld the map- it depicted a scatterbrained image of trees, a cave, and other pictures I didn’t quite understand- a bear? Flowers? But at the end, there was an ‘X’. I tried my hardest to memorize it, not daring to pick it up- for even the thing itself looked horribly dangerous, and I went on my way. I was finally going to get to be the knight from my stories, the knight my father had always been. I was going to save my mother from the hands of the evil one who had taken her. But what does every good knight need? Armor of course! So I looked as hard as I could- and I saw a woman set down a large tortoiseshell. It looked bigger than any man had ever been! What a mighty tortoise must have bore that shell! I seemed to have remembered something about tortoise shells being valuable, so that means they had to be strong- right? And strong stuff is great for armor...at least- I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes. I approached the woman and looked up at her with amazed wide brown eyes, “May I have this?” I asked, as sweetly as I could. The woman looked down at me. She had warm auburn hair that fell in waves down to her chin, and sweet green eyes that glinted with little flecks of amber. There were a few sparse freckles spread across her face, and her skin was of a warm hue that definitely could not be found in my crayon box. ‘Elf’, I remember thinking, She had to of been an elf. She was so pretty, and to have been strong enough to steal the shell from such a strong tortoise? Only an elf could do that. I’m absolutely certain. “Of course little girl.” She beamed. “Might I ask what you need it for? And what your name might be?” She shook out her hair, and I could almost swear I saw little pointed ears. “I’m Annalise. I’m gonna be a knight.” I stood up straight and huffed out my chest. “And I require your mighty tortoise shell to craft the armor I require for my dangerous venture.” I say seriously. “Ok Annalise, If your venture is really that dangerous- you may go ahead and take it.” SHe laughs, rubbing the top of my head and mussing my already messy golden blonde hair, She’d made my bold black rimmed glasses skew slightly. “You’re quite a smart little girl aren’t you?” “Mm-hm!” I agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “My mom says I read too much….She also says I shouldn’t talk to strangers. But you’re an elf. And you’re also a nice stranger. So that’s ok.” The woman just laughs, but she gives me the large tortoise shell- and it was quite lighter than I had expected it to be, I must say. I then crafted the tortoise shell into the finest armor that man has ever seen, using only the greatest tools ever known to such species. I slid it on and trumped around for a few moments, reveling in my accomplishment before getting serious. Well…..as serious as a hyperactive brainiac seven year old could get… First matter of business- was the forbidden forest. Surely I would have to trek through the treacherous terrain if I were ever to see my dearest mother again. Was I frightened? Yes. But no good hero ever let fear stop them before. And I was Annalise! The first child hero of Epic Proportions! As I approached the looming trees- I could feel the dread they seemed to pulsate, even through the safe shell of my tortoise armor. The branches were all blackened and desolate, like a fire years past had charred them into their now hideous and scary forms. They used to be beautiful, I would say- but they had been robbed of life, and now one could almost swear they could hear the howling of anguished souls as they passed through those tortured branches. I was quite literally quaking in my little boots as I approached them- and as I passed that first line of trees, it seemed like all of the light there could ever possibly be in the world vanished, It seemed like the entire world had been swallowed up in the darkness of that forbidden forest….. But light helped me move onward. Light- and the hope that I would be able to see my mother again. And when you harbor light inside of you- It can chase away nearly any darkness. Just like we choose to be happy, we also choose whether to harbor our own light, or discard it. And honestly, bit of advice? Keep it. Keep it because nobody wants to turn into that hermit-troll-thing under a bridge that DESPITE the word ‘hermit’ does NOT have a really cool man size shell…..because lets face it if becoming a hermit meant you got to grow a really cool hermit crab shell of your own? Yankee-doodle-doo, yeah we’d all become hermits. The trees were thick and seemed to ooze malevolent shadow as I pushed my way through the branches. I could see horrible pale hands with claws like wolves reaching out of the trees and clawing at me as I tried to rush past, glowing red eyes watching me as their slippery voices called after me- ‘Are you lost little girl…?Do you want to go home…?Come over here and I can help you…..’. But I didn’t stop for them- I wasn’t afraid (Even if I was….), I just told myself that it was like Voldemort coming after me, with those slithering voices and red eyes (they probably didn’t have noses either), and if I didn’t turn around- he couldn’t get me. So long as I didn’t show fear….they wouldn’t be able to hurt me. And even if they did- my superior tortoise shell armor would protect me. I was nearly out of the dreaded forest when I tripped over something- I let out a startled yelp and rubbed my head as I stood up, looking around for whatever had been such an inconvenient roadblock. I jumped back and let out another startled outburst as I noticed a little bear cub at my feet. But not just any bear cub. This was a rainbow bear cub. Never before in my life had I ever seen anything so magnificently majestic….. “Ow!” It had woken up and started to cry, bawling like a little baby. “That hurt!!!” It exclaims. Even it’s voice was childlike and amusing- I wonder what a grown-up rainbow bear would sound like…. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I panic, the little bear sat up on it’s haunches and rubbed it’s sparkling eyes with it’s tiny little paws. “What’s your name? I’m Annalise!” I say hurriedly, trying to mediate the situation between myself and the clearly upset little bear. “What’s a name?” It sniffles and snuffles, crying like I had just stolen his limited-edition-boxed-set-first-print-and-signed-by-JK-Rowling Harry Potter books. Man- I guess if that happened to me I’d be crying like a little baby too….. “It’s you know…..what people call you. A title.” I explain, picking up the chubby little bear and rocking him soothingly like I had seen my mother do with her friends’ children at a baby shower. “I don’t have anything like that…” It whines, sniffling again. “I don’t remember anything...I just woke up here when you tripped over me….What are you doing here anyway?” “I’m on a super-duper-top-secret-extra-special-knock-your-socks-off QUEST!” I state proudly, huffing my chest out again and standing up straight. “I’m a knight yah know.” “That sounds fun…” The baby bear cub looks up at me, “Can I come with you, Annalise the Knight?” “Sure! I can knight you and give you a name! And you can be my awesome sidekick!” “Do knights have sidekicks?” “They do now!” I exclaim happily.“I can knight you too- and you can have an epic title!” “Can you be knighted by a knight? Like, really?” “Well by laws of logic that’s the only way you can be knighted. Duh.” I roll my eyes and scrunch up my face as I think real hard. “I dub thee….erm….” I grab a nearby tree branch and touch his forehead, “Sir Snuffles. There. All done.” “Sir Snuffles? Really? You couldn’t have come up with anything else?” “It was kind of short notice. Now silence and march forward in an epic fashion my loyal sidekick- Sir Snuffles!” “Well when you say it like that it does sound a little more cool….” ..... We came to a cave then, and it would have been dark as pitch- had there not been these twinkling flowers inside, releasing the glow of magic in hues of violet, blue, and pink. It was beautiful- but I was skeptical. How often does one come across glowing magical flowers? They could be venomous, they’d probably release some super-duper-concentrated laughing gas (Which actually sounds fun but I’m pretty sure after a while it wouldn’t be so fun anymore). “It looks pretty.” Sir Snuffles says, looking up at me with his round black eyes. He had seemed afraid of everything so far, but the glowing flowers didn’t seem to frighten him. I could understand that, they were pretty freaking cool. “Just be cautious, ok?” I buried my fingers into his soft colorful fur, stepping into the shimmering cave, my tortoise shell armor giving off soft clinking sounds. The moment we crossed through the first line of flowers, wading through the thick field, a dust arose from their petals and leaves- a sort of shimmering powder that I recognized as the flowers hummed out a beautiful tune. “Glitter!” I exclaimed in hyperactive joy of oh-my-god-its-so-beautiful-I’m-gonna-die-ness. “And Music!” Sir Snuffles wiggled his little fluffball of a tail. “It’s so beautiful…”I mused. “This isn’t scary at all! I could stay here forever!” His voice echoed through the cave as we waded through the knee-high flowers that sang and shimmered as we walked past, seeming to be glad to have some company, someone to listen to their songs at last. How lonely they must be in this cave…. “Can we take one with us?” Sir Snuffles asked pleadingly. “No. I don’t think the flowers would like that very much….” I wasn’t very sure which way to go in the cave, so I continued to go straight…..and then left….then right…..thenleftthenrightthen leftagain, then right, then straight again. But hey, my sophisticated system of eenie-meenie-minie-mo must have worked much better than Sir Snuffled was giving me credit for, because we could see the end of the cave before long. “Told you so!” I chimed, but he rudely cuts me off with a shriek of terror. “What is it? What?” I look around, and I gasp in my own terror as I see a pack of wolves descending on us, entering the cave from the exit we were approaching. “Annalise! Do you have a weapon?!” He frets in a worry-wart way. “Um...No?” I stumble, walking backwards through the shimmering fields as the snarling beasts slowly approached. “What sort of knight doesn’t carry a weapon?!” “Um? This one?” I ask, not really knowing why I was saying that as a question at all, and not really knowing who I was expecting to answer either. “Just trust me!” I assure him, swallowing, even though my throat had run dry. “They’ll rip me to pieces! How do you expect me to trust you?!” He shrieks at me, and I start to panic. “Stop yelling at me! I can’t do anything with people yelling at me!” I stomp, looking around desperately, and I yank up one of the glowing flowers by it’s roots. It’s stem turns into a surprisingly hard crystal substance, that glints and sparkles maliciously in my hands. I was right, the flowers didn’t like to be picked. “You’re going to fight with a flower?!” he wails. “Do you have a better idea?!” I retort snappishly. Hey, who was the knight here and who was the knight’s surprisingly whiny sidekick? Well I was the knight, and henceforth that meant I knew everything and exactly what I was doing absolutely 100% all of the time. At least, that’s pretty much how it went in all of the stories. I mean who’s ever heard of a STUPID knight? Exactly. I rest my case. In essence- Don’t question me, I know what I’m doing! All. Of. The. Time. “YaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” I shriek, charging into battle, wielding my mighty staff of magical flower power. The wolves seem taken by surprise and halt their growling for a moment and whine, intimidated by my relentless strength and bravery. …...Or maybe it was just the deranged seven year old charging at them…..yeah….looking back that was probably it…. But I don’t hit the poor little canines with my staff of magical flower power. No, no I do not. Because that would be mean. And a Meanie I am not. “Boop!” I say with a bright smile, stopping just before I would bash at them and I bop them on the head with my amazing staff, they let out sleepy yawns and collapse right there! Right into a great big pile! Had they not been so scary before- I might have even called it adorable! “See? You should totally trust me more often.” I roll my eyes at Sir Snuffles as we continue onward. “I guess so.” he sniffs, “But that really was scary….” “I’m sure it was. For you, who has very little faith in your knight of all people.” I say, humming that little catchy tune the flowers had been singing as I skip along, carrying my mighty staff and prancing to the tune. But before you know it…. “Halt!” A terrifying figure emerges in the middle of the path, he wears armor black as pitch, his head is bald as an egg, and he has a handle-bar mustache that makes me want to both laugh and cry at the same time….Man I bet children sure didn’t like this guy….at all…..even on a good day….and I’m guessing today was not a good day- because he looked like the grumpiest grumper grumpypants I had ever seen. Needless to say- I screamed. Hey, that man was terrifying! He made me want to cry and scream and throw things just to keep him away from me. In short- he was a pretty satisfactory warrior of darkness. “Come with me, little girl!” the fiend sneers. “Never!” I retort, stomping my foot and bending down like a bull, making quite convincing snorting sounds. This sinister mister needed to know that just because I was little, I would not be going down easy. I remember what my papa told me, ‘If a man ever threatens you Anna, you go right for the nono.’, and he pointed. I had gasped and covered my mouth. ‘Really?’ I squealed. ‘Yup. Right there. But only if you feel as though you are being threatened.’. Well- if then didn’t qualify as being threatened, I didn’t know what did. So, I charged. I charged him hard. I didn’t think men could sing opera like that. “What did you do?!” Sir Snuffles called out. “Just Run! Run Fast!” I shrieked, fleeing as fast as I could, passing the felled evil fiend. Well, the thing about running in terror is that it’s sort of hard to stop. As in- we kind of reached a village before we stopped fleeing…..and we were both panting for air and coughing something awful. Luckily there was a tavern, and I scooted into one of the tall bar stools. A kind woman gave me a lovely goblet of cider, a much welcome token. I looked up and the woman just winked at me, “On the house.” she smiled. “GOOD GRACIOUS ANNALISE THERESA RINALDI!!!!!” An oddly familiar voice screeched… ..... “Mom?!” I squeal elatedly, rolling out of my tall bar stool and going to embrace her. She was safe! My mother was really and truly safe! But her arms were crossed over her chest, and her posture stated that she was clearly Not. Pleased. “Mama! I went on an adventure to find you! I made my own armor!I went through a forbidden forest! I knighted a rare rainbow bear cub! I went through a field of singing flowers and put a pack of starving wolves to sleep! AND I took down an evil warrior of DARKNESS!” I beamed, bouncing up and down with elation. “No! Annalise!” She snaps at me. “You did not go on any magical adventure at ALL!” “Yes I did!” I protest avidly. “No, Annalise! You did not! You got lost in the MALL! You made your ‘Armor’ out of a cardboard box that you decorated with your crayons like a TURTLE-” “It was a tortoise.” I stated seriously. “WhatEVER! You decorated it like a TORTOISE with CRAYONS and cut eyeholes in it with your SAFETY SCISSORS then walked around making ‘clink!’ing sounds all day! Your ‘Forbidden forest’ Was just you forcing your way through all of the CLOTHING RACKS in JC PENNY! You knighted a PILLOW PET with an empty COAT HANGER! Your ‘field of singing flowers’ was you wading through the flower beds in the center of the mall that are right across from the MUSIC STORE! Your ‘starving wolves’ were the PUPPIES in the pen at the pet store right next door! And you just ASSAULTED the nice MALL COP that has been trying to find you for me ALL DAY!” “In my defense he was scary.” “Just stop talking and let’s go home before you can cause any more trouble…” “It was still real.” “It was not.” “He was scary.” “He was NOT.” “You went missing.” “I went to go get your coat! You had wandered away by the time I got back!” “And who’s the bad parent for making that terrible decision?” “Don’t you try to turn this on me.Just….Just stop talking. Don’t look back….and just Stop Talking….”...... |
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Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
I will be completely honest with you. I came to review because your friend recommended to do so. And honestly, your story is so long... could you split it into parts for convenience?
scared to tears on the ground what. I don't understand this.
This is a great piece of writing, it has a lot of potential. It really does. You can't give up on writing just because you didn't get reviews! That's so stupid! I started here and never got reviews. Did I stop writing? No. I got upset for sure, but I didn't stop. I believed someone would eventually read and love what I wrote.
Your writing is very weak. That's how I wrote at the beginning as well. So you will get better over time. If you write a lot more, read a lot, you will start to write better.
You have lack of detail. Like, you don't use it. When people talk, they have a specific sound. Like when someone's angry, their voice gets tense or fills with venom. The way someone of something looks. And you bring up a lot of 'talking heads' we call them. That's when you write conversations without saying who's talking and how they're talking and what they are doing.
The only way to write better is by writing more, not giving up. Like Circute said, that is childish.
Your story is interesting, a little girl wondering in her own imagination and getting lost in it. That's a beautiful idea for a story, really. But the way you write it didn't quite fit. The beginning was nice, like you were actually talking to me. But I don't know who the MC really is. So you must explain what is going on sooner and don't scatter thoughts on the paper, I know that's how the MC's brain works, but honestly, I got lost. Make it simpler.
I was a horrible writer at the beginning, honestly, I think I suck now. But I keep on. So you should keep on as well. Okay?
I got told my writing sucks. People made me sick of words when they reviewed. But I never stopped writing and I listened to them cause they were write, my writing SUCKED. So get over yourself and write.
- Nike
Hi, this is going to be part review, part message to the author.
Let me start by saying that there is really nothing to be said about this that has not already been said in previous reviews. I can, however, say that I can see the style of writing you were going for. The really raw, first-person narration that tries to get the reader to truly relate to the narrator. Unfortunately, you didn't pull this off all too well. I write in that style a lot, and I'll be the first to tell you that it is not an easy thing to do. I think that all you need is a little more practice. When you really get that style down, it becomes quite easy. A year ago I was just like you (sorta); I couldn't get that raw, emotional, feeling to save my life! Now, after much practice, I'm writing an entire novel using it! Practice makes perfect, my fellow writer.
Now, I'm going to address your actions, and I want you to really think about what I say before replying to this review.
Look Red, you need to calm down. Just because someone doesn't like your story doesn't mean you need to quit writing and whatnot. It just means that not everyone likes your writing. Do you honestly think authors like Stephen King get all positive reviews? Hell no, there are a lot of people who can't stand his writing. I hate to say it, but you're acting quite childish.
Also, receiving a negative review isn't a form of bullying. My first short story got pretty much obliterated by reviewers! And you know what, what they said was true, my story had a lot of faults. It isn't bullying when someone points out faults within your work, it's simply criticism. Feel free to go on my works and criticize the hell out of 'em. I'd actually appreciate it, for it allows me to see what people don't like about it and how I can make it better. This is why, I think, instead of you bashing these reviewers and acting like a child, you should honestly take a long, hard look at your piece and maybe say "yeah, they have a point." Because they do. Your story needs a good bit of work. And I think if you were to focus on improving it you could make it much better.
Again, please think about what I just addressed before attacking me like you have other reviewers. I know I'm being a bit harsh here, but other's had tried being gentle with you, and well... we all know haw that ended.
~Cirute
I have been at stalemate at myself to review this work, given your rather hostile response to criticism as seen in the way you received BloodinkSeesFootage's review (which actually gave me the chuckles). Nonetheless I shall review it now.
Well, actually, I shall leave it as a comment, because this won't be at all constructive. It will be a one-sided argument, that being this work isn't too good. I am sorry but I don't really understand what you are trying to achieve here. You take the effort to bolden your title and add pictures but no effort to edit your incredibly long and contrived piece where nothing really happens all that much,
In short, a failed experiment.
Hey Roze! I haven't read your story yet (in fact, I'm kind of procrastinating from going grocery shopping, to be honest, so I feel kind of guilty about starting now, since I just KNOW I would be sucked in...) but I see how hurt you are, so I figured I would pop in and offer some quick words of encouragement! So, I figured that I would tell you my story, as a writer, and where I was when I was 13 and how I eventually progressed.
Chapter 1
), absolutely in love with writing and wanting to create things and experiment with ideas that previously I could only do with my imagination. There is a vibrancy and an energy and a willingness to experiment there that I see, which, even by skimming your work briefly like I did, I see from your work.
Yet, editing it is still on the list of things to do! And one day -- who knows? -- maybe I'll publish it and it'll become a bestseller! I can only hope...

I started writing because, quite frankly, I loved it. No more was I constrained by dolls or toys or people... nope! Now I could create entire worlds completely from my imagination, and I could do it with words, now that I knew how to write. It was awesome and intoxicating. I loved it, and I still love to write for that very reason.
When I was 13, I wrote a novel called FREAK. Yep. In capital letters and all that. It was awesome. This is the first draft. In case you don't want to download the Word file (though, I assure you, it's perfectly safe!) it starts off like this:
Spoiler
Finally I had the chance of a lifetime, I got to be a servant. My heart burst in pride. Finally all the work I did was starting to pay off. I had triumphed against all odds.
I fiddled with my new dog tag. On one side was FREAK and on the other side was my new mistress’s name, Melissa, and why I was freak.
I didn’t know what a freak was, I only knew that I was one, so I couldn’t explain it that well. I did know freaks were hated and scorned from society.
Of course I couldn’t tell you why. I didn’t know enough freaks to draw a conclusion, and honestly I wasn’t sure I could if I wanted to. Most freaks I did know lived in the orphanage where I was leaving from and often they were sent away. Most of them were sent away I ever got to know them.
Anyway. That was written when I was 13. I was good and had lots of talent and potential, but I hadn't entirely honed my craft at that time, and my writing was rough. When I showed it to people, some loved it, some liked it, some absolutely hated it and spared no words to how much they hated it. It had a lot of divisive opinions!
When I look back at it, now that I am 25 years old, some parts of the original story make me cringe. The character development seems pretty shallow to me now. The way I worded sentences seems a bit odd. The plot seems a little bit rushed. There are PLENTY of grammar mistakes (though, it's not as bad as my earlier works, which keep me humble!)
Still, as I read that writing, I smile, because what I do see is me, as a little girl (yes, I see myself at 13 as being a little girl, especially now as I am expecting my own baby daughter and prepare to be a mother!
This is FREAK now. It has been rewritten several times, and I still need to work on it... life is busy and, quite honestly, I find it more fun to help you guys out on YWS than working on my own writing.
Anyway, what I am trying to say is that, for myself, I started off young. Did I immediately write masterpieces? No. But that's okay! Because I fell in love with writing. And yes, some of the criticism really hurt. I think one person once gave me a review that started off, "I hate to say this, but I really hated this work." Ouch! But, it helped me understand that, finally, what mattered most was not their opinions, but my own opinion of the story. As long as I loved the story, that's all that mattered. Period. And my love for writing is eventually what got me through all those hard criticisms.
Basically?
1) Don't let other reviewers and their criticisms bring you down. Look at what they have to say, of course, because sometimes they offer something that might be helpful, and it's a good idea to get help whenever you can! But, in the end, it's up to you, the author, to decide what you want to do and what you don't want to do. And there's a wonderful amount of freedom with this.
2) It's okay to not be the greatest writer at times! In fact, it's okay to completely suck completely every once in a while. One of my favorite youtube videos is called DARE TO SUCK. In all caps! It's by a published writer, Maureen Johnson. You should check it out! Someone asks her the question of how to write without sucking, and she explains about how much her writing sucks and how she gradually improves it.
3) As you write more and more (and read more and more!), you will get better. If you think you're good now, then you're in for a big surprise, because you'll be even better later! And this is okay. In fact, this is a good thing! In fact, it's one of the best things about getting older.
Anyway, I hope you feel better! Getting reviewed is not necessarily fun... in fact, whenever I post something and get a review, my head kind of spins and it takes me an hour or two to calm down and actually read the review. It is terrifying for me, and I am considered to be one of the better writers of the site! But, you know what? After a painful review, I spend some time licking my wounds (because such time is needed), and then get back to my writing. And then I fall in love again. Because, you know what? You're right: writing is a joy.
Here's hoping you fall right back in love! <3
Hey RedRozeNinja!
Nice name by the way.
This is a big piece and so is going to need a big review. I'll start this on a positive.
Scatterbrain, scatterbrain
It might take a chapter or two to get used to, but this has a really interesting style.
From the word go I feel like I've been sucked into someone else's brain and I'm looking at the world through their eyes, and that's really, really good.
One of the most noticable things is that you quite quickly deviate off topic and then snap back, and that's something I like. What book was it I read? Was it Life of Pi? I think that's the one but I can't fully remember. It has the same kind of Stray Away and Snap Back rhythm to it.
I actually laughed at parts of this. Sometimes the kids I work with come running to me so excited about simple things that they talk like motors and forget to breath, and I can't help smiling. That's kind of how I felt reading this.
The issue with the beginning
Looking back, I understand the purpose of it, but it could be edited and shortened. I like the voice of this piece because it's very young and excitable, but in the beginning this doesn't completely come across. It also takes a while to get into the story, and one of the most important things to grab your reader is to dive straight in.
Dotty dot dot
You use a lot of dots XD I'm not really sure why. I assure you, they're not necessary. Ellipses is usually used to indicate a long wait, and a full stop is used to indicate the end of a sentence or a pause, so you don't need to use so many ellipses where a full stop would do the trick.
I think you've done really well portraying the way this character thinks and the ellipses detract, rather than add to that.
I read 'Eye of the slayer' which doesn't have them so much, so I assume you chose to do it purposely in this piece.
That's fine. You took a step out of your normal style to try something new, which is awesome! I just feel in this instance it didn't work too well.
Of course she's an elf,
what else could she be?
Hah! This is fantastic. Only a small child would come to such a definate conclusion. I could choose so many lines of this that I like, but this one has to be my favourite.
Tenses
A note on tenses though- try not to switch them half way through the piece. In this case I'm assuming the 'I'm absolutely certain' part is a thought? In which case you could put it in italics to make it clearer, otherwise the slip in tenses is confusing.
Further into the piece you fall into present tense again. It's just as she meets Sir Snuffles.
Capital Letters
Capital letters work great for emphesis in comic books, but in general text it makes the word stick out a lot against the other text. If you want to emphesise something you can put it in italics, which does the same job but without being able to see the word coming from three sentences back.
Nasty, nasty Mum
I feel a little like the mother over-reacted just a little bit. I mean, I can understand her being angry but I think a parent would respond differently than listing all the things a child had done wrong.
Maybe a little show-not-tell here? Instead of her listing all the bad things, she could do something that would show how angry she is. You have a knack for seeing things from the perspective of your character, so it would be really cool if you could show what this angry parent looks like from the view of her daughter.
Maybe then the child could look back and see the aftermath for herself?
The Ending
That hurt, but I like it as a conclusion. It's funny how different the world can seem to a kid and how quickly that world can come crashing down by realism.
One last note on criticism
Take it to mind, not to heart.
I think in this piece you made a lot of brave stylistic choices that didn't go over too well on certain audiances. It happens. Sometimes criticism can bruise a little, especially if you're not used to getting it. Having a thick skin helps.
It's important to remember that most people reviewing genuinely want to help you improve. Sometimes you'll agree with them and sometimes you'll disagree, but always it's an opinion of the piece and nothing against your overall style or the person you are.
In the same way it's only fair not to use their opinions to judge them or their intentions.
I hope this helps.
Feel free to PM me with any comments or questions =]
I love this story
I like the playfulness of it and how she's got a beautiful imagination that never fails to make me happy. Thank you 
Well, doesn't that just sum up the whole piece?
Hello, doll, I'm here to review.
Overall, you have some ideas, but this piece needs a lot of editing before it's ready to be shown to the public. That's okay, though. All writers have tons of gems that need a few feet polished off the top.
Here's my advice.
I'm not even going to correct your grammar. You need to sit down with a red pen, a grammar handbook, and a dictionary. You'll learn that way. If I tell you your mistakes, you won't learn a thing. Make sure you do that, though. The grammar mistakes are quite distracting in parts.
Cut everything up until that first row of dots that you seem to use to cut things into sections. It has no bearing to the story, and flows in one ear and out the other. Not to mention the narrator's voice has already become annoying. Cut the beginning, and you'll already have a much nicer start.
Actually, also cut the first paragraph after the dots. Don't introduce the story by talking directly to the reader. It sounds like you're trying much too hard.
Redundant.
Don't tell us that your mother was taken. Show us. What happened? You do a good job of describing in the next paragraph what happened to you, but I want a sense of confusion akin to what the narrator was feeling at the time. Show, don't tell.
While this line is supposed to ring sincere and draw the reader in, it falls flat. Not many people would actually think that at the time. Perhaps a wordless, worried “Where is she?” or “What? Where--” as the narrator turns about in endless circles, searching. But not what is there. When you're lost, you don't think about what someone means to you. You act on instinct, asking basic questions to reunite yourself and that person. Think about what the narrator is feeling at the time.
This started so well. I could see it. It was lovely. And then it fell short at the end. “like my papa always was” falls flat because you have this lovely description and then a Hallmark ending to it. You know, like a sappy greeting card. Don't end some of the strongest writing in this piece with something so weak.
That's a comma splice.
Make this a bigger moment. You think it's your salvation. It's not big enough. You make a big deal about being lost. If you find the key to being found, you're going to feel more relieved than just saying, “oh, look, a map there on the ground.”
I loved the turtle lady until this: Do we need to know that she's an elf? No. She's already wonderful and whimsical. Too much whimsy can take the mind out of the world of the piece, and that's what this line did to me.
You keep doing this to me. I finally get into it, and then you say something that takes me right out of it. Take this out: It looks like something someone would write on facebook.
This is cheesy, and borders on preachy. Not a good place to be, unless you're in Sunday school.
I'm all for allusions, but this one seems out of place. There are so many things that are so imaginative, and then you throw this in; it feels like cheating. Make up your own imagined menace, or do some more research on frightening mythical creatures. One of my favorites is the chimera. You might look into that.
The weird things are happening so fast and close to each other. Cut a lot of them out and focus on the simple ones. I really don't like the entrance of the rainbow bear cub. It's too convenient. Make both characters have goals and make them do something. Don't introduce characters by making them wake up. It's tiring.
If you must use exclamation points, you should only use one. Using more than one immediately adds an undesirable juvenile air to the piece.
You've done it again with the poor line following the good ones. Take this out:
Take this out, too. If you're going to transition suddenly, the end of the preceding section needs a nice stop. This adds trailing strings on. We want a nice finished hem.
You need to make your writing style consistent. It starts out annoying and bubbly, (annoying isn't a bad thing, it's just the tone you use in the beginning) changes to this lovely descriptive voice, and then goes into narrator mode (as in the kind of “once upon a time there was a dog” kind of voice), then back to bubbly and annoying, then back into lovely and descriptive. Pick one and stick with it. The piece is all over the place otherwise.
Wolves? I think you can come up with a more fantastic enemy. They seem lacking in whimsicality.
Reminds me of Dr. Eggman from the Sonic TV series.
Is this supposed to be him screaming? I didn't get it, and suddenly imagined this villain singing an aria to the heavens. Find something else to say there. This isn't really doing it.
After all that phantasmagorical stuff, it's a big letdown. Don't explain the magic to us. Let us believe it was real. I don't want the illusion to go away. Don't end something with a character waking up to find it was all a dream. This is what you do here, essentially. Let it be.
Throughout the whole piece, you have consistently almost gotten me into it, then sabotaged yourself. I hope that you look critically at your work. You have potential in this piece, but you need to learn when to let words speak for themselves and not give us anything more after that.
I hope this was helpful. Have a nice day.
Hi, I am just going to say something right now. This is beyond hurtful. It wounds a writer's pride.
You are pretty much telling her to REwrite the entire thing
I am saying this on the behalf of my friend. And she WILL COMMENT BACK.
1) I'm telling her what I think. This is a review. Criticism is implied.
2) You should let her speak for herself if she wishes. She hasn't said anything yet. I was constructive. I didn't say that it was terrible and then not give her advice. I gave her advice.
3) Writing is rewriting.
I don't think that you understand how upset she is about this review. She didn't want to read after seeing your first few things. It broke her heart and spirit. It may been a critical review, but you were harsh in the way you wrote it.
I was not harsh.
I made sure to tell her it's okay that it needs to be polished. And it is. As a young writer, it's going to be a rough start. Also as a young writer, she needs to learn how to handle criticism. And at least I'm trying to be nice about it here.You told her a story (that is going to be published in something) isn't good enough to show to the PUBLIC
Hi there!
I don't think there's anything unfair in this critique.
Something to bear in mind: stories and poems are posted to YWS with the express intention of being pulled apart, piece by piece, by reviewers. It is never personal, nor is it intended to be hurtful.
I am sorry that RedRozeNinja has taken it that way, but that surely isn't how the review was intended.
Critiquing (ie. pointing out flaws) is something reviewers do out of a kindness in order to help the writer improve their writing. @magpie94 probably spent a good half hour or more writing this up - not for himself, but purely because he wanted to help.
If what RedRozeNinja is really after is a place to showcase her writing, then perhaps YWS isn't the right site for her. Because the members of YWS will want to help her get ever better, and that will mean pointing out what they think can be improved upon in her stories.
Hi....
ummmmmmmmmm, pointing out something does not have to seem so cruel. And telling her to go with a red pen, a GRAMMAR Book, and a Dictionary doesn't sound nice and nor is it necessary. This is a story told from the point of view from a SEVEN year old girl. And Red chose to post here, because it offered another place for Constructive criticism. What she had gotten on this story within the past week hasn't been that. So of course it ill make her feel upset and angry because it did nothing to help her.
It's a shame she feels upset and angry, and I'm sure that's not what the reviewers intended.
For what it's worth, going through a story with a red pen and a dictionary is good advice, and I think is indeed constructive criticism. That's pretty much how I learnt to proofread my stories, and I'm sure it would help Red also.
I had written a reply-but it was too long and hence was not posted, nor did it save. So I shall, perhaps, tell you later. But let me just condense it for you.
You, without necessity, and with DESTRUCTIVE criticism, have made a girl cry, made her pride bleed, made her burn journals of her works- and I have only one thing to ask.
Are you proud?
Because you have destroyed her. If being a writer meant being constructive, considerate, kind and creative, uplifting and honest, and most of all- if being an author meant wielding your own individuality- well, I would have a better writer than both of you combined ever would have been.
YOU destroyed Red. And I hope that you get everything you deserve for stealing away the joy that writing once brought me. If the hurt you've brought is what writing stands for- if that is what being a writer truly means, I shall never hold pen to paper again.
What you've done is the cruelest form of bullying. What else could I deem it? You have destroyed a fellow writer, and I can clearly see what sorts of people you are. And yet still I only have one thing to ask-
Are. You. PROUD?
One of the joys of being a published writer is that there will be critics. Some of them review the story with praise... others review the story with criticism. It is just the way things are.

Fortunately, there is so much joy in writing that it's well worth it in the end.
If you don't think this review was helpful, then just brush it off. That might be hard to do, but it's better in the end. In any case, don't think that this was a personal attack. Though sometimes it may feel like it.
Sorry to butt in. But I got shredded by reviews when I first started posting. People were cruel, but that's the point of a review. To be cruel and to the point to help the writer. I got better, didn't I? So don't say whoever reviews is mean. That's just sad, this is the real world and we must critique. I'm sorry, but get over yourself, everyone gets rained on all the time. And that's what makes us better writers. SO THIS REVIEW WAS NOT CRUEL AT ALL.
You already know that i love Annalise, and I forgot how memorable she is. She is loveable in all aspects. I love how she can turn a single event into a large adventure that is known only to herself.
I think my favorite part of the story was:
~This is not only my favorite because it show's a summary of her adventurers, but also shows how much of a jerk her Mom is.
Hey.

I was really psyched to read this going from the title. But once I actually got to the work, I have to say I was a little bit disappointed.
'“What’s a name?” It sniffles and snuffles, crying like I had just stolen his limited-edition-boxed-set-first-print-and-signed-by-JK-Rowling Harry Potter books. Man- I guess if that happened to me I’d be crying like a little baby too….. ' I have chosen this as a major example of what the work is like and basically: it tries too hard.
It's way too heavy going, difficult to read, the flow is disrupted constantly.
However, your ideas are good. You experiment with all the rules of traditional literature and even push with things like the dialogue, where you have that fast and snappy conversation at the end.
I did like that aspect of the non-conformist work.
Umm... I know you didn't write this piece when you were high. (HopefullyXD) But that was kind of how it came across. Sorry.
I didn't really enjoy reading this as much as I could have, but I appreciate what you have tried to do here.
One- if you're going to complain, don't continually express how DISAPPOINTED you are in my writing, you didn't have to read it. 'You try too hard' actually, love, I didn't really have to try at all. My writing COMES to me and once I get in a character's mindset, it flows like a river. And need I remind you, oh miss pickypants? That this is a story written from the perspective of a CHILD. If you are going to insult my writing (because honestly, I could draw nothing constructive from your review, it just tore down my self-esteem as a writer and made me want to cry) at least say something that will help me in the future. What you see as flaws, others see as personality.(maybe that's something you're lacking if you can't appreciate that?). If you're going to put-down a writer, don't even try to sugarcoat it. I was proud of this piece. And even if you don't like it, plenty of others do. My writing has character, and while it isn't perfect- I'm proud of this. And, try as you might to deny it- you are nothing but a bully for trying to take that away from me. It was hurtful and cruel. Do you even know the golden rule? Do unto others as you wish to be treated? What if I took one of your works and tore it apart, leaving no actual CONSTRUCTIVE advice? Because that's what reviews are for, to help us get better.
In short, you are a bully, as Annalise would put it. Nothing but a bully. I am proud of my work, and you don't have to tear it down when even professional publishers have told me they enjoy the charm and humor in this piece.
Sorry you thought my review was too harsh
Bul.Ly. I wonder how many other people you've torn down. I just found out today that this particular piece is being published in a literary magazine, a few hours after you destroyed my faith in it. That was mean and uncalled for. A literary magazine wasn't its intended purpose- but nonetheless I am proud of it, and that proves this piece is every bit as good as OTHERS have thought. Even now you pin it on me that I took the review harshly. For any good writer, their writing is a manifestation of their time, love, and overall- creativity. It is a part of them. You should think of that before you so carelessly tear it down, especially when nothing was truly wrong with it. If you can't respect a fellow writer's imagination and creativity (as scatterbrained as it may be- but you were warned about that VERY early on in the story), then it is YOU that has a lot to learn and correct. Annalise and I will be very happy when we are published in literary magazine coming in April/May. I am very insulted at your "joke" at me being high when writing- because I have not done drugs, nor will I ever. I am, however, ADHD-but as you would see if you bothered to look at my writing, the scatterbrained theme is not shared with any of my other characters. Thanks for that, suggesting that I was high just because I'm not the same as others and don't necessarily think the same way.
You can truly tell what sort of person someone is when they behave in such a way, inconsiderate towards how others may feel. I know I personally am very disappointed that I even wasted a few precious hours of my life taking into consideration your criticism with absolutely no basis. This story is not perfect, but none of us are. Even though it isn't perfect, I will still defend it. And if you dare to have the audacity to criticize my work like YOURS IS, well then- Shame. Shame for you.
You haven't taken my criticism well at all. Ok. But it is my opinion... and opinion can't be wrong.
And please, I never set out to offend you or tear down your work.
That's in your head. I gave an honest review. I'm sorry you didn't like it.
You haven't listened to a word I've said. Well then, good day to you madam.
Calm down.
O_O
Hey!! Silver here to review your story!!!

I really liked this. It really took me back to my childhood days. Like Lucrezia I really connected with this character because she reminds me so much of myself and how I used to be when I was younger. I also have had quite a number of horrific memories of being lost in the mall. I think that this is a really nice read and your grammar, spelling and structure was on song. I think a lot of readers will connect to and enjoy this. Happy writing!!
Silverock
Hi there! Lucrezia here to review.

I really liked this story. It was charming, lighthearted, relatable, and funny too. Annalise reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger, and I think the same can be said for most girls out there. She's a great main character, someone the reader will root for unquestionably.
I don't really have any criticism to give… the story, of course, has a lot of fantastical elements and is very imaginative, but this makes sense as it's from the perspective of a young girl. You describe everything quite well. The ending had me giggling, and the whole story was nicely thought-out and very sweet.
Good work!
Thanks so much- this is actually a short story based off of one of my novel characters that, even in the future, is still very much a child at heart. I apologize for writing such a curt reply, but today is a rather emotional day for me. It's good though to remember that I still have sweet little stories like this to look back on when times get dark. And to know that people are reading them, so thank you for your opinion and taking the time to review. This is a short story also entered in a short story CONTEST.
Much Thanks,
Red </3