The Night Isn't Always Quiet {prologue}

I understand that you are new to this site, Tianna, but it's not hard to Edit Your Post to delete the poem yourself. I've also noticed that you haven't made any of the changes people have suggested, and that's indication to other critiquers that you're not going to listen or do anything to better your story, which will make people shy away from your work.

If you have time to write a post saying to *IGNORE* a poem, you have the same amount of time to edit your post and delete it yourself. It's been over a week and you haven't made any of the corrections people have suggested. If you don't improve your work, no one will bother reading it.

It's a great thing to see a piece of writing and then read the comments and see how much it has changed over time and as people have critiqued it.

Please fix up your work like you are supposed to.

Looking over your stats, it's clear that you can review and know how to handle the user interface of YWS (post718935.html#p718935), so I don't understand why you can't edit your post and fix up the mistakes you made.

Confused, JaI

FOR ANYONE WHO WANTS TO REVIEW THIS, PLEASE IGNORE THE POEM AT THE START!! I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED IT WHEN I UPLOADED! SORRY! (Capitals are only so you notice this, because its important. Everyone keeps picking on me for it, so just ignore please!)

First, unecessary use of enters in the beginning, but no paragraph enters at all makes for a large unreadable block of text.

I understand that Microsoft Word automatically spaces sentences apart, so it probably looked really good there, but here it looks like you just submitted your work and didn't even bother making it look good. Have you had a look at other people's work? Generally their submissions are clean and well set out so the reader doesn't have to flounder around trying to follow your continuous block of prose.

This is what it should look like (comments in red, everything else you'll have to search for):

TiannaJaneMorrison wrote:I'll stop loving you
When diamonds never sparkle
And flowers cease to grow
When thunder never echoes
And rivers don't flow
When hearts no longer wonder
And hands are never held
When smiles are only memories
And hope is never felt
When trees no longer blossom
And stars refuse to shine
When God alone commands me
Then I'll stop loving you
While the poem is nice, I don't see what this has to do with the story. You should reconsider having this in the beginning, because 1) it really threw me off and made me wince and 2) it makes you seem like a bad author. You haven't quoted who wrote it (even if you wrote it yourself, where is your name, and the year, and the place where it was published etc?). At the moment it's just a random poem that looks like it was cut and paste off a Twifag page


PROLOUGE


At first the wolves seemed normal, the only strange thing about them was their small numbers, but every species had those who run their lives differently. They were also too large to be average. They were both at least seven foot long and four feet high. I think this can be made into one good sentence

There were two of them; one a silvery grey, the other black as midnight. The grey was big and its muscles rippled visibly under its fur . . . have you ever seen a wold in real life? Can you see the muscles under thick, shaggy fur?. The black wolf was just as strong, but its muscles were the thin, wiry kind. It looked at lot less dangerous than its companion.

The two of them padded slowly through the thick woods they were in Redundancy. Don't you love it? If they are padding through thick woods, then they are padding through thick woods. The "they were in" is redundant. If anyone had been watching closely, they would have noticed that their gait was a little uneven, like they usually did not travel on four legs Is this needed? Wouldn't, "Their gait was a little uneve, as if they weren't used to travelling on four legs" fit better?. Otherwise, they were sleek and graceful as they wandered through the night.

Nothing else moved in the wood, which was strange. There was always some activity. An owl on a midnight hunt, a bat rising from its slumber. Cicadas usually chirped all through the long summer nights, but there was no sound. The land held its breath, waiting, it seemed, on the two opposite-coloured wolves. Nice paragraph, but a little far-fetched

The grey shook the fur on its neck in impatience. Then, if anyone had been watching, they would have gasped in amazement and disbelief Again. . . not needed. You're writing this as if it was a script for a narrator for small children. Unless your targeted audience is 10 year olds, no one is going to be pulled into the story with "if anyone had been watching" spiel. For the wolf stood slowly, transforming as it did so into a boy of about eighteen years of age. His hair was platinum blonde, silver in the moonlight shining through the branches of the tall oaks around him. It was close to the shade of his fur as a wolf, and it stuck up in all directions Like Yu-gi-oh? Try to use realistic hair styles, or at least explain it better. His eyes were hazel and sharp; they darted around the clearing he had stopped in Redundancy again. No need to say "he had stopped in", taking in everything he could. His face was oval in shape and his skin was a healthy golden colour, not the pallor you expect from such a blonde as him. ? I don't understand. From my knowledge, blonde people are usually tanned.

He stood in the chill of night bare of chest and foot, with only some ragged denim shorts to cover him. He looked expectantly at the black wolf, who seemed to sigh before performing the same change as his companion.

This boy looked around the same age as the other, but they couldn't have been more different. This one had dark hair, longer than the other's, and his eyes were a bright, unnatural green. His face was warm and open, with a smile that never really seemed to leave his face Be careful of using the same word in quick sucessio. Here it's "face". He grinned now, at his companion as he spoke in a slightly husky voice.

“Come on, Lucien. Oh. Why. Why is his name Lucien? Couldn't you choose a more original name for a werewolf? I thought I was the impatient one.”

“We are both impatient,” said Lucien. One half of his mouth twisted up in a wry smile. “I just hide it better.”

“Of course you do. You're just trying to make me think I can match your timeless grace. I already told you that you
won.”

This entire conversation seems to be pointless.

Lucien laughed at that. “Ah, Jet. If only times were still that simple. I thought Yasmyn said that this was the place.”

“She did. Yasmyn is not usually wrong.”

“We have wandered around for hours though. Surely if an archangel were here, we would have found it by now. Or it would have attacked us.”

“Perhaps it was simply waiting for a time when we were vulnerable,” said Jet. “Like now. Can you not feel the heaviness hanging like an omen over the wood? That is not just some grizzly bear!”

“Yes I know, but we have found nothing on the ground. Maybe it is time to take to the skies.”

“Lucien,” Jet said, “that is the best idea you've had all night.”Sounds scripted.

They both changed into their wolf selves and performed another impossible feat. Instead of touching the ground, their first bound launched them into the air. They climbed quickly, and soon they were above the trees.

There was a sudden blur of black, and the archangel was on top of them. The dark wolf, Jet, moved just as fast and before the archangel could attack, he had his jaws around its neck. From there on, Lucien assisted in the killing of the beast, all still in mid-air. It was quite easy. A single archangel was a simple opponent for two aerewolves. The pair returned to the ground soon after, where they disassembled the archangel. While I liked the idea of this, you could have been more descriptive and created a fantastic scene

Jet was the first to change to human this time. After Lucien had copied him, he sat on the roots of one of the old trees around him.

“This isn't even hard anymore,” Jet said, eyes on the pile of dead archangel. “We didn't even get a good fight. This one was too slow.”

“You can't be a hero all the time. Sometimes you just have to take the easy way out,” Lucien replied, sitting beside him. “The rest of us do it all the time.” . . . Doesn't make any sense. . .

Jet elbowed him in the ribs. “I know you want some glory too, Lucien. Or do you want to live your life in my shadow?”

“You wish you were that talented. Come on, lets go. Everyone's probably wondering where we are. Anyway, dead
archangels always creep me out.”

“Just my luck. I get stuck with the only aerewolf ever born that's scared of a dead archangel.”Once again, the language doesn't seem natural.

Jet changed and leapt into the air before Lucien could get his hands around his neck. He was already high in the sky when Lucien caught up to him, and the pair ran home in a good mood. . . .

Behind them, the animals of the wood slowly reappeared. They all examined the dead archangel and they all took a piece of it with them, so they could destroy it in their own way. And so peace came once again to the small piece of land. Not a very strong ending to a prologue

TiannaJaneMorrison wrote:I'll stop loving you
When diamonds never sparkle
And flowers cease to grow
When thunder never echoes
And rivers don't flow
When hearts no longer wonder
And hands are never held
When smiles are only memories
And hope is never felt
When trees no longer blossom
And stars refuse to shine
When God alone commands me
Then I'll stop loving you (better to use this in italicization)
















PROLOGUE (Really, you could've just placed "PROLOGUE" before the poem, ,cause if you didn't, the poem would look left out and it was like it wasn't part of this prologue.)






AT FIRST THE WOLVES SEEMED NORMAL. THE ONLY (unnecessary capitalization, you don't need to do that for emphasis because expect that readers will read this first) strange thing about them was their small numbers (population, right?), but every species have those who run their lives differently. They were also too large to be average. They were both at least seven foot long and four feet high.
There were two of them; one a silvery grey, the other black as midnight. (Observe: you kept on saying "They were", I think this weakened the story line, so try using other words) The grey was big and its muscles rippled visibly under its fur. The black wolf was just as strong, but its muscles were the thin, wiry kind. It looked at lot less dangerous than its companion.
The two of them padded slowly through the thick woods they were in. If anyone had been watching closely, they would have noticed that their gait was a little uneven, like they usually did not travel on four legs. Otherwise, they were sleek and graceful as they wandered through the night. (Explain why and how they move gracefully or something)
Nothing else moved in the wood, which was strange. There was always some activity. An owl on a midnight hunt, and a bat rising from its slumber. Cicadas usually chirped all through the long summer nights, but there was no sound. The land held its breath, waiting, it seemed, on the two opposite-coloured wolves.
The grey shook the fur on its neck in impatience. Then, if anyone had been watching, they would have gasped in amazement and disbelief. For the wolf stood slowly, transforming as it did so into a boy of about eighteen years of age.
His hair was platinum blonde, silver in the moonlight shining through the branches of the tall oaks around him. It was close to the shade of his fur as a wolf, and it stuck up in all directions. His eyes were hazel and sharp; they darted around the clearing he had stopped in, taking in everything he could. His face was oval in shape and his skin was a healthy golden colour, not the pallor you expect from such a blonde as him.
He stood in the chill of night bare of chest and foot, with only some ragged denim shorts to cover him. He looked expectantly at the black wolf, who seemed to sigh before performing the same change as his companion.
This boy looked around the same age as the other, but they couldn't have been more different. This one had dark hair, longer than the other's, and his eyes were a bright, unnatural green. His face was warm and open, with a smile that never really seemed to leave his face. He grinned now, at his companion as he spoke in a slightly husky voice.
“Come on, Lucien. I thought I was the impatient one.”
“We are both impatient,” said Lucien. One half of his mouth twisted up in a wry smile. “I just hide it better.”
“Of course you do. You're just trying to make me think I can match your timeless grace. I already told you that you won.”
Lucien laughed at that. “Ah, Jet. If only times were still that simple. I thought Yasmyn said that this was the place.”
“She did. Yasmyn is not usually wrong.”
“We have wandered around for hours though. Surely if an archangel was here, we would have found it by now. Or it would have attacked us.”
“Perhaps it was simply waiting for a time when we were vulnerable,” said Jet. “Like now. Can you not feel the heaviness hanging like an omen over the wood? That is not just some grizzly bear!”
“Yes I know, but we have found nothing on the ground. Maybe it is time to take to the skies.” (um... quite confused here, wolves that fly? If so, you should've described wings on them)
“Lucien,” Jet said, “that is the best idea you've had all night.”
They both changed into their wolf selves and performed another impossible feature. Instead of touching the ground, their first bound launched them into the air. They climbed quickly, and soon they were above the trees.
There was a sudden blur of black, and the archangel was on top of them. (All of a sudden? Explain more, like how did the archangel find them?) The dark wolf, Jet, moved just as fast and before the archangel could attack, he had his jaws around its neck. From there on, Lucien assisted in the killing of the beast, all still in mid-air. It was quite easy. A single archangel was a simple opponent for two aerewolves. The pair returned to the ground soon after, where they disassembled the archangel. (It was like you made the archangel to be very weak or simply say you just made him to appear here for some actions, there was nothing climatic, so it was a little uninteresting to read.)
Jet was the first to change to human this time. After Lucien had copied him, he sat on the roots of one of the old trees around him.
“This isn't even hard anymore,” Jet said, eyes on the pile of dead archangel. “We didn't even get a good fight. This one was too slow.”
“You can't be a hero all the time. Sometimes you just have to take the easy way out,” Lucien replied, sitting beside him. “The rest of us do it all the time.”
Jet elbowed him in the ribs. “I know you want some glory too, Lucien. Or do you want to live your life in my shadow?”
“You wish you were that talented. Come on, lets go. Everyone's probably wondering where we are. Anyway, dead archangels always creep me out.”
“Just my luck. I get stuck with the only aerewolf ever born that's scared of a dead archangel.”
Jet changed and leapt into the air before Lucien could get his hands around his neck. He was already high in the sky when Lucien caught up to him, and the pair ran home in a good mood.
Behind them, the animals of the wood slowly reappeared. They all examined the dead archangel and they all took a piece of it with them, so they could destroy it in their own way. And so peace came once again to the small piece of land. (I really didn't 'quite' like the ending line 'cause it would only assume that the story end in a good way like you're already saying a 'and-they-live-happily-ever-after' statement, which would really not convince your readers to read the prologue 'cause they'll think the problems' gone or something. perhaps change that line that leads to a climatic scene and that we can crave reading the first chapter)

Hello there, I am JackpotJohnson -JJ- I am here to give you your first review! Red=Grammer Mistakes/ Blue=My Ideas

TiannaJaneMorrison wrote:I'll stop loving you
When diamonds never sparkle
And flowers cease to grow
When thunder never echoes
And rivers don't flow
When hearts no longer wonder
And hands are never held
When smiles are only memories
And hope is never felt
When trees no longer blossom
And stars refuse to shine
When God alone commands me
Then I'll stop loving you

Ok, up there you kind of lost me. Is that a poem for the prologue. If it is, next time it would help if you named it, and brought it closer to the prologue. Thanks!















PROLOUGE






AT FIRST THE WOLVES SEEMED NORMAL (Caps, not necessary)(Also the first sentence, does not grab the readers attention very well. Think of ways to add detail, and spice it up. THE ONLY (Caps again) strange thing about them was their small numbers, but every species had those who run their lives differently (This sentence is a run on sentence, as well as confusing. They were also too large to be average. They were both at least seven feet long and four feet high.
There were two of them You already told us that. Don't repeat unless absolutly necessary.; one a silvery grey, the other black as midnight. The grey was big and its muscles rippled visibly under its fur. The black wolf was just as strong, but its muscles were the thin, wiry kind. It looked at lot less dangerous than its companion.
The two of them padded slowly through the thick woods they were in. If anyone had been watching closely, they would have noticed that their gait was a little uneven, like they usually did not travel on four legs. Otherwise, they were sleek and graceful as they wandered through the night.
Nothing else moved in the wood, which was strange. There was always some activity.To big of a space An owl on a midnight hunt, a bat rising from its slumber. Cicadas usually chirped all through the long summer nights, but there was no sound. The land held its breath, waiting, it seemed, on the two opposite-coloured wolves.
The grey shook the fur on its neck in impatience. Then, if anyone had been watching, they would have gasped in amazement and disbelief. For the wolf stood slowly, transforming as it did so into a boy of about eighteen years of age.
His hair was platinum blonde, silver in the moonlight shining through the branches of the tall oaks around him. It was close to the shade of his fur as a wolf, and it stuck up in all directions. His eyes were hazel and sharp; they darted around the clearing he had stopped in, taking in everything he could. His face was oval in shape and his skin was a healthy golden colour, not the pallor you expect from such a blonde as him.
He stood in the chill of night bare of chest and foot, with only some ragged denim shorts to cover him. He looked expectantly at the black wolf, who seemed to sigh before performing the same change as his companion.
This boy looked around the same age as the other, but they couldn't have been more different. This one had dark hair, longer than the other's, and his eyes were a bright, unnatural green. His face was warm and open, with a smile that never really seemed to leave his face. He grinned now, at his companion as he spoke in a slightly husky voice.
“Come on, Lucien, I thought I was the impatient one.”
“We are both impatient,” said Lucien. One half of his mouth twisted up in a wry smile. “I just hide it better.”
“Of course you do, You're just trying to make me think I can match your timeless grace, I already told you that you won.”
Lucien laughed at that. “Ah, Jet. If only times were still that simple. I thought Yasmyn said that this was the place.”
“She did. Yasmyn is not usually wrong.”
“We have wandered around for hours though. Surely if an archangel were here, we would have found it by now. Or it would have attacked us.”
“Perhaps it was simply waiting for a time when we were vulnerable,” said Jet. “Like now. Can you not feel the heaviness hanging like an omen over the wood? That is not just some grizzly bear!”
“Yes I know, but we have found nothing on the ground. Maybe it is time to take to the skies.”
“Lucien,” Jet said, “that is the best idea you've had all night.”
They both changed into their wolf selves and performed another impossible feat. Instead of touching the ground, their first bound launched them into the air. They climbed quickly, and soon they were above the trees.
There was a sudden blur of black, and the archangel was on top of them. The dark wolf, Jet, moved just as fast and before the archangel could attack, he had his jaws around its neck. From there on, Lucien assisted in the killing of the beast, all still in mid-air. It was quite easy. A single archangel was a simple opponent for two aerewolves (Do, you mean werewolves. The pair returned to the ground soon after, where they disassembled the archangel.
Jet was the first to change to human this time. After Lucien had copied him, he sat on the roots of one of the old trees around him.
“This isn't even hard anymore,” Jet said, eyes on the pile of dead archangel. “We didn't even get a good fight. This one was too slow.”
“You can't be a hero all the time. Sometimes you just have to take the easy way out,” Lucien replied, sitting beside him. “The rest of us do it all the time.”
Jet elbowed him in the ribs. “I know you want some glory too, Lucien. Or do you want to live your life in my shadow?”
“You wish you were that talented. Come on, lets go. Everyone's probably wondering where we are. Anyway, dead archangels always creep me out.”
“Just my luck. I get stuck with the only aerewolf ever born that's scared of a dead archangel.”
Jet changed and leapt into the air before Lucien could get his hands around his neck. He was already high in the sky when Lucien caught up to him, and the pair ran home in a good mood.
Behind them, the animals of the wood slowly reappeared. They all examined the dead archangel and they all took a piece of it with them, so they could destroy it in their own way. And so peace came once again to the small piece of land.