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Young Writers Society



'Whale Rider 2'

by slytherinseeker


There was a movie called Whale Rider made not too long ago that won many awards.

I decided to, for fun, make up a sequel.

Things have happened since I saved those whales, a lot of things.

First off my Grandfather has died, as well as my Grandmother. I am Chief.

But I am not here to tell you that, I know something else. And I’m in a lot of trouble.

Journal entry

23/3/05

It started five years after I left the hospital.

My father finally decided to live a few houses near mine. My name is Paikea, my father named me. Now he is here to help me take the role as Chief. After my Grandfather died he thought I needed all the help I could get. He was right. Things aren’t easy being Chief.

I woke up one morning and walked along the beach and gasped at what I saw. A whale was beached. I ran over to help it, I threw water down, I yelled for help but nobody could help me. I went on top to ride the whale, I knew that I could but something I saw made me give up hope. Right in the middle of the whale was a giant spear. It would’ve killed the whale almost instantly, I was glad the pain wouldn’t be so bad. I looked up and saw this whale wasn’t the first. Giant spears killed six whales, all the spears had strange markings.

I ran up to get help. I reached the house and stared in fear.

No one was home, what was going on?

Were they kidnapped?, or whatever had killed those whales had killed my family! Were they too slaughtered, spears thrown at their chest…………..

Then I remembered……………… My little sister had a concert, my family was watching up at the hall. ‘Phew’, I thought. I decided to walk to the hall then changed my mind, ‘There are two ways, I might miss them’, I said to myself. The phones were dead, I decided to wait till they get home.

I waited, and I waited, and then I waited, what the hell I waited some more, once again I waited and then I just decided to keep waiting and not write that I’m waiting anymore.

LA LA LA……. DEE DEE DEE………………………………………………………………………………………………………hmmmmmmm…………….

Two hours had passed. The door smashed opened, she looked like she’d seen a ghost and fought it too. It was my Mum, well my step Mum. Her lip was cut, she looked bruised all over and was terrified. ‘Pai, hurry come with me, QUICK’, she screamed at me. I shut up and just followed. She took me into the black car and she zipped off, as fast as the car could go. ‘Careful, you might crash’, I suggested unhelpfully. She didn’t answer. Judging by how she was still looking a car crash might be the most enjoyable part of her day so far.

I squealed, like finding a brown snake on my lap, except this was much worse. My Dad was right next to me in the car the whole time. He looked a little pale. Blood was coming from his chest. I already knew I’ll never talk to him again.

We traveled for about half an hour before my step-mum realised that she busted in our home, chucked me into the car next to my dead father and all of that happened and I don’t know anything. She decided to tell me. ‘Pai. You may not believe a word of this but you have to try. You know how much I love you and you’ll know I never lie. I’m so sorry about your Father, I loved him too, everybody loved him. The truth is this. Everybody was watching the concert and out onto the stage came six figures. They weren’t part of the piece judging by your sisters reaction. The figures were dark. They didn’t look human. They killed the children in front of our eyes, with spears. I think they were……..’, a dark figure jumped to where we were sitting. It swung a spear in the air and stabbed me in the chest. I screamed…… and woke up.

I was soon to learn it was all a dream. My family are building one big Waka. We want to travel to Australia, all the way on the Waka. I’m late for a ritual and in a lot of trouble.

Gotta go.

Pai.

Everybody is busy on the Waka. Pai is becoming a great Chief. Her father prodding her along proudly. But what they all didn’t see was the problem. They all grabbed their tools to begin working once again on the waka. That was when inside the Waka, six dark figures rose.

Everybody screamed.


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49 Reviews


Points: 890
Reviews: 49

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Tue Sep 06, 2005 3:32 pm
Gazza_14 wrote a review...



I thoroughly agree with Reichieuru above. All her views are great points for improvement. This story just didn't attract me, the story really didn't flow. There was something almost awkward about the way the story was going and little was explained about the characters. I think the pace needs to be changed and a new format would also help. And, no offense I hate it when people "just remember" things in stories- it's soooo convinient. Ending on a dream is, (as most people will warn you) a bad idea, all that action- for a dream!!
Anyway, on a positive side it was very action-packed and it certainly interested me the more I read. It needs a few tweaks but I hope to read more!
Hope I helped. :lol:




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685 Reviews


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Sun Aug 07, 2005 1:47 pm
Rei wrote a review...



"It started five years after I left the hospital." This is not a good way to start a story, regardless of the format. "It all started when . . ." beginnings are just plain cheesy and boring. They also take away a lot of the tension because they imply that everything turned out all right in the end. Even if we know that everything will be all okay in the end, like when you're doing the retelling of a fairy tale with a happy ending, you don't want to give that away.

I've seen this movie several times, listened to many interviews, and read the book it was based on, so I know the characters and the world it takes place in pretty darn well. In reading this, I got the feeling that you don't understand the character of Pai very well at all. Whether it's true or not, it doesn't show through your writing. It's very disconnected and lacks the passion the character of Pai has.

As for your decision to make this a journal style, it's not working. This is not in the form of a journal. In a journal style story, entries are generally written right after the event, not recalled months after they happened, and don't make reference to past events in a way that is obviously for the benefit of the reader. To get a better idea of how a journal-style works, I suggest reading books like Ann Frank's diary, Go Ask Alice, and The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole by Sue Townsend. It is technically a children's book, but is an excellent example of how journals work. Keeping your own journal while writing this one can also help.





cron
The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance.
— Richard Price