Young Writers Society

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

Hi! I'm Knight Hardy here on a mission to ensure that all works on YWS has at least two reviews. You will probably never see this but....Imma do this anyway.

First Impression: So this was a pretty nice little establishing shot of shorts for the setting of this story and it feels like a decent place to start things off but I feel like it wouldn't do that great of a job as a prologue. This is more suited to being like the first part of chapter 1 because this does not have much of that shock value that you would associate with a prologue that is trying to get your attention so that you will read the book.

Anyway let's get right to it,

There was a remote, volcanic island in the South Pacific Ocean. It was densely forested with thick underbrush and tall trees whose roots crawled along the earth, and whose red flowers bloomed ten months out of the year. The land was drenched in shades of green and the air was always warm, even when it rained. One might have considered it a paradise, were it not for the earthquakes and scattered fumaroles which shot up air so hot it could burn your flesh off.

The only four-legged creatures on the island were a single herd of goats who roamed where they pleased, eating away the underbrush in random patches of land. The rest of the wildlife on the island was made up primarily of birds so tame they would fly in your lap if you sat still long enough, and cockroaches who loved to make a racket after sunset.

Deep in the heart of the island was a spacious clearing and a great, grassy hill. Located there were two large, three story houses, one on top of the hill, and one at the base of it. They'd been identical at one point in time, but the years had been cruelest to the house at the bottom. A few sturdy shutters clung to the face of the house by rusting nails. The door's splintering frame had been so abused that it hardly stayed shut. The sagging roof leaked, the thread-bear carpets stank, and the steps buckled as they were trod upon.

The house on the top of the hill was more tenderly cared for – its inhabitants not so cruel nor clumsy. It still had its flaws, but they were charming. The shutters were all intact, if a little paint-chipped and faded from wear and the bright sun. The door creaked a greeting or kind farewell as you stepped through it. The carpet carried a stain from spilled paint, or perhaps grape juice; no one could remember which anymore.

The latter house, Upper House, was where I lived, along with fourteen other children. And at the bottom of the hill sat Lower House, decaying around its fifteen apathetic inhabitants. That was where Michael lived.

That small, forgotten island in the South Pacific is where where my story – our story – begins.

Thanks Indigo! I actually meant to omit the 'once upon a time' and start it with 'there was an island'. Oh well, heh.

Thanks very much for the review! much appreciated!

Hello again!

Firstly, I'd like to say that your description is beautiful. It really painted a vivid picture in my mind of the scene. Lovely imagery there.

I also like the way you've ended it-a bit of a cliffhanger going on there.


On my first reading of it, I wasn't sure what I made of the 'once upon a time', but I like it. It adds a bit of....authenticity to the whole thing. There's a very charming feel to it that fits in well with the rest.

All in all, I would love to read some more of it ad if you write more, you can PM me and I'll definitely review it.