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{Part I:Subject 13 H15387924 (Yoake Village)}
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Chapter One- A Strange Awakening
You know, I bet the average teacher could spot us right off. Most students probably can too for that matter. We all know the type. The kid you sat next to on the bus who did nothing but stare out the window, while you wondered how the heck she could do that without getting a neck cramp. (And what on earth was there to look at on a road in suburban Arizona? And could this possibly get any more awkward?) The kid who you can just tell will be more familiar with the cast of some fantasy novel than with their homeroom class? Yup. That’d be us. Us weird, quiet, lame loner kids. My teachers and parents have been trying to rationalize my behavior pretty much since I was born. “Oh, Emma’s only having trouble making friends because she’s new!” “She’s just a little shy, Mrs. Harbor, that’s all...” “Don’t worry; she’ll grow out of all this eventually” “Erm... I’m sure this is all just a phase she’s going through....” “... A very long phase” Blah blah blah. They never seem to have much hope or conviction about this all. And who would? This is me we’re talking about. Emma Bering, age 14, certified nerd, straight-B student, friendless, unpopular, annoying. Now tell me, what kind of person would have much hope or conviction about some one like that? Anyone…? Exactly. The only people who think that there’s somehow still a chance for me are those who’ve just met me, but they all learn eventually.
Whatever. I should just get a grip. I’m sure there are people who have it much worse, people who would think I’m just being a whiney loser who doesn’t know anything about life. Besides, I have a whole day of classes to face. I might as well get it over with while I still have my senses. Yes, I know, smart kids aren’t supposed to hate school, right? We get good grades, what are we supposed to complain about? We should love school. Sorry to disappoint you all, but if that’s a requirement, then I don’t qualify as a “smart kid”.
* * *
Before first period begins, we have almost an hour with nothing to do until classes start, owing to the stupidity of our bus schedule. Some people stay by the stairs in front of the building where we have classes, gossiping or playing hacky-sack or grumbling about various teachers or sundry homework assignments or other inane things, but the intelligent masses stomp their grey, gloomy, early morning way across the campus to the library.
The Boulder Ridge School Library is a huge and tiny building at the same time. I know that doesn’t make sense, bear with me. It doubles as our sub-divison's public library so it's huge, about a hundred shelves in neat rows, twenty or so computers that have issues with our printers, and demand your library card and your phone number before you can use a school given password to sign on. It really seems much smaller than average though, because everyone directs their attention towards five shelves and the computers. That’s because 75% of the books there are nonfiction, and almost all of the rest were written for small children by authors with a certain disdain for their wide-eyed, drippy nosed audience and firmly believe that they are only allowed to write monosyllabically about empty little stories that probably have a hand in creating the average American kid’s hatred of reading. There are about five shelves of chapter books, tucked away in a far corner, five shelves of books that, perhaps because of their almost hidden location, have thankfully escaped the wrathful gaze of thousands of clamoring censors desperate to destroy anything that isn’t an alphabet book or an algebra lesson. This little oasis is the refuge of a good 200 kids seeking, quiet, air conditioning, and boredom relief.
I hand over my ID to the library security guard (library security guard, who comes up with these things?) After a few minutes of doubtful scrutiny, he informs me:
“Your card is bent”
So? Is the response that leaps to me, hovering tentatively on the edge of my voice. I bite it down. The “library security guard” (must… resist… rolling… eyes) is technically a member of the faculty, and all. I really should be polite…
“Is it, sir?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“M-hm.”
While this fascinating conversation proceeds, a small but very irritated line of people has formed behind us, trying to push past me and walk in.
“Uh… if I may ask, sir? Why is that a problem…?”
“It indicates that it could have been tampered with.”
I take a deep breath, reaching into my very final reserves of patience.
“Listen. This is the very same student ID I’ve been giving you since I started middle school. It wasn’t any different yesterday or last week or last year than it is today. Now please give it back and let me pass?” I don’t give him the option of saying no; I just snatch my card back and walk off.
I can take this as an omen of just how much the rest of the day is going to suck, but nooo, I decide to remain optimistic, heaven knows why.
Unfortunately, the second omen that I won’t make it through the day with my ego still intact comes in the form of my best friend, Kathleen Riala.
Something else that doesn’t make sense, sorry.
But, you know what? I don’t really understand it either.
“Hi!” I call out to her. “Guess what? I finally finished that stupid research paper!” I smile.
“Coolness.” She says in a bored voice, and returns to scanning the shelf of horror books for her favorite title.
Ouch. I shut up, back off, bite my lip. I duck behind the other shelf and begin examining the library’s meager anime selection.
Lately, Kathleen has gained a tendency to lash out at me if I talk to her too much when she’s not in a good mood. Basically, if she seems to have an actual interest in whatever I’m saying, I can proceed with speaking to her. If not, I need to shut up and go away. If I try to talk to her while she’s mad about something, I’ll probably end up the target of her venting.
“Best friend.” Yeah, right. If I so much as open my mouth when she doesn’t want it open I get this endless e-mail about how everyone I’ve ever met/saw/read about thinks I’m some kind of snotty bitch. She should start her own business: “Kathleen’s Character Reviews: Have Every Flaw I Think You Have Ridiculously Blown out of Proportion for Only 75 Cents!”
But whatever. I’m sure there are many people who have it a whole lot worse.
I make a point to smile politely at Kathleen on my way out of the library.
She gives me the finger.
Okay then.
* * *
The PE coach looks cheerily at us, smiling that ridiculous smile that means we’re all about to be very, very sad.
“We’re running the mile today!” he says brightly. Even all the popular jock kids look disappointed. “Remember, run one side of the triangle and from that point, you have 5 laps! Good luck! Anybody who makes it in under the nine-minute mark doesn’t have to run next week!”
Everyone looks slightly heartened by the nine-minute thing. Everyone but me, that is. How anyone can manage to run all that within 9 minutes is beyond me. I think I can make it in thirteen minutes if I run the whole way.
We all line up between the first cone and the basketball court, not quite a straight, neat row. People push to be in front, anything to have to run a few steps less.
The coach blows the whistle.
We all start running, jogging, actually, trying to keep from tiring out before the end of our first lap. Not that that will help much, I can already feel my breath coming short, much sooner than usual. Is it possible to get out of condition overnight? I know I wasn’t this bad yesterday…
I start panicking as soon as dark spots begin to appear at the corner of my vision. It’s the heat, I know it is. Whose stupid idea was it to throw 50+ eighth graders into the Arizona midmorning and have them run for an entire class period?
One lap finished. “Four minutes” the PE coach tells me. Great. I’m not even 1/5 of the way through and already almost half my time is up.
Second lap: eight minutes, thirty seconds. I start to run faster.
Third lap. Eleven minutes. I feel like I’m going to throw up or something. I keep tripping, probably I’m stepping on some rough patch of uprooted grass or something, but when I look back, I can’t see anything.
Fourth lap, Twelve minutes, fifty-nine seconds. I realize my vision is entirely blacked out now. I’m running blindly ahead, one hand out. I hope I’m going in the right direction; I don’t need to give Kathleen anything to ridicule me over. I’m vaguely aware of falling, I must have tripped again. I want to put my hands out to break the fall but I can’t , my arms won’t move and I can’t concentrate and I’m not aware of anything anymore as I fall forward and I can’t breathe and the world fades away.
* * *
The nurse is baffled.
I do not have a fever. I haven’t been coughing or sneezing and I don’t have a sore throat. No one I know has been sick recently and she’s sure I don’t have heatstroke. Apparently, all these facts combine to make me “healthy” despite having passed out five minutes ago. She sends me to Science.
* * *
Elizibeth Martinez’s cell phone is ringing.
It’s a high, loud screech. It must be a new cell phone, because she hasn’t gotten a ring tone for it yet. I should be grateful for that. The banshee-screech noise echoing through the room is infinitely preferable to listening to some rapper cursing. I should be grateful.
But it’s a little difficult to be grateful when you’ve been listening to something that sounds like that first victim in a horror movie for forty-three minutes.
No, I’m serious. It’s been ringing since I sat down for this class. I know that it’s Elizibeth’s cell pone because it’s on the corner of her desk, and I can see it vibrating slightly from ringing at full, piercing volume.
Goddammit Elizibeth, pick up your phone! Put us all out of our misery! Please?
I glance around the room. No one else seems particularly irritated about this, not even the teacher. I glance at Elizibeth. She’s busy answering the discussion questions at the end of the chapter. I reluctantly bury my head in my own science textbook.
I am trying very hard to concentrate on dominant and recessive alleles. I copy out the Punnett Square in my notebook like the directions on the board say to. I think I did it wrong. I can’t really seem to grip what I’m reading about, like my brain is a bucket with a hole in the bottom. I go back to the first page. Someone has written “I suck” on Gregor Mendel’s apron in the picture in the corner of the page. It’s “girl” handwriting, neat and happy and evenly spaced. Every girl at Boulder Ridge School writes like that except me. My writing is tight and scribbly and illegible.
The cell phone is still ringing. I’m surprised the teacher hasn’t taken it by now. Teachers here are very strict about the great anti-cell phone rule. But no one else even seems to notice, and the cell keeps ringing, like it’s gone on a loop, over and over and over. I watch Elizibeth’s hand move back and forth across her page. The pen is moving but it never gets past one point for some reason, and the movements are the same as though she’s tracing the same letter, over and over, on and on.
I realize then that she’s been working on the discussion questions for the past forty minutes, and not once have I seen her start over, or even pause, yet I haven’t seen her hand move past that point.
My blood turns to ice, but I bite my lip, forcing myself to turn back to the book, forcing myself to wonder what the results of this Mendel guy’s pea plant experiments were. There has to be a logical explanation, I’m sure there is.
But so many strange things have been happening lately…
People are standing up. The bell must have rung. I can’t hear it through the cell phone’s ever louder pleas. I pack up, stand, and pull my backpack over my shoulder.
You’ve been reading too many weird fantasy books lately, I tell my self firmly.
Oh, and guess what? The cell phone stops abruptly as soon as I walk out the door. Go figure.
* * *
When I sit down in third period, I can see Kathleen in the front row, next to her boyfriend, doing some cruel imitation of me running around the mile triangle.
“I can’t see, I can’t seeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cries in a high-pitched voice.
“Oh no! What if I die from my terrible weakness! I mustn’t! I must keep bestowing my vicious ugliness on us all!” someone else chimes in.
The Social Studies teacher walks to the front of the room and switches on the laptop and projector. A PowerPoint slide emblazoned with “Lincoln’s Reconstruction Plan” shines down on the class. “Take out your notes, people!” she calls. “Ashley, could you hit the lights?”
I would not admit this under torture, but I love taking note off of PowerPoint Presentations. It requires no effort or creativity or brainpower of your own, yet you always know you have the answers right. All you need to do is remember them. I turn to a blank page in my Social Studies notebook and scribble down the title at the top of the page wile the rest of the class complains. Kathleen blows her boyfriend a kiss. She has not taken out her Social Studies notebook. Doubtless tomorrow she will panic at the sight of her test study guide and beg me for answers as though we’ve always been best friends and she’s never been rude to me. I look away in disgust. I doodle a smiley face at the corner of my page. The phone rings.
Inwardly, I groan. Not again! I just escaped Elizibeth’s banshee of a phone, don’t tell me there’s one here, too! But it’s just the official phone up front. The teacher goes to answer it.
“Hello? Yes. Is she being signed out? What? Oh …okay. Emma?” She beckons to me, a politely puzzled expression on her face. “It’s your mom,” she says when I reach her, “she wants to talk to you…”
I feel sick without knowing why. I take the receiver with my heart pounding.
“…Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, dear.” She says, sounding unconvincing. I can’t decide if the unconvincing-ness is in the “nothing’s wrong” part or the “dear” part. I’m smart enough to figure out that my mom wishes I was some happy preppy cheerleader and not this weird silent loner with no friends and no life. But whatever, anyway.
“I-it’s just…” Mom continues, “…just…”
“Yeah?” I prompt.
“You need to c-c-c-c-“
“What?”
“C-c-c-c-c-c” she sounds like a disk skipping.
“Mom?”
“C-c-c-c,” suddenly, my Mom’s voice is interrupted, or, is it interrupting? I really can’t tell. It’s still her voice, but it doesn’t sound like her, like she’s stepped out of character or someone else is controlling her mouth. “C-come to the office.” The new voice is calm and deadly, deadly serious, with a slight note of urgency slipping into it.
“Do I need to bring my stuff?” I ask. I’m a little worried, but my spirits are also rising to the cheap corkboard ceiling. I’m being signed out! I get to leave and I’ll get my butt out of here and there’ll be nothing to worry about for the rest of the day!
“That won’t be necessary.” Mom says. I can feel my high spirits sink to the ugly purple and green floors, but I try to be happy.
I turn to leave.
The Social Studies Class is gone.
And the walls are streaked up to the ceiling with blood.
Next chapter: topic22235.html
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(edit: just patching some things up before I post chapter 2. I can't believe I showed some of this stuff to the general public. *hangs head in shame*)
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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125,029 Literary Works • 672,781 Reviews
I can't even begin to tell you how impressed with this I am. I've been looking for a well written multi-chapter work here, and I think I finally found it.
Maybe it's because this is your third edit, but it shows. Your writing displays the personality of the main character perfectly, and I honestly found myself smiling at a lot of her snarky internal thoughts. It was what carried me through the chapter, since there was nothing going on.
Or was there? I loved how you showed small little irregularities in her life that pointed overall to something begin wrong. I can tell you right now that if you had just told us that things were weird, like so many online amateur writers do, I would have gotten bored and finished the chapter with no intent of continuing. It's hard to get a conflict going right from chapter one, so the fact that you kept me interested through your superb narration shows a lot about your skills.
Of course, that narration can't carry the whole story. I'm interested enough to check out chapter two, so hopefully some semblance of a plot will appear there.
If I have any complaints, it's that you occasionally dumped useless information upon us, like everything about the library, or right at the beginning how you just described that she's a loser. It was shown a bit later when she was being taunted, but I think it would work better if you cut down on the overly long paragraph descriptions of that stuff, and show her internal thoughts about being a loser come after she gets insulted and called ugly. That would make more sense, because I don't remember her having any thought about that.
Once again, overall I'm very pleased with this work. I'm looking forward to reading the next chapter now. Congratulations.
This is a stroke of sheer genius.
No wonder its so popular.
My eyes almost popped out of their sockets when I finished reading.
And like most people here, I can't give you a solid critique,
As there is a lack of mistakes to correct. Fabulous.
The plot was truly entertaining and commanded my attention from start to end.
Many must have mentioned this, but I'll say it anyway:
You have skill, m'dear. Talent.
Character development, description, content all exceeded my expectations.
Brilliant job!
~Have a nice day!
Meep(:
How is this possible, how could one person write so good.
You have an amazing talent for writing Bravo!,
your writing mistakes have already been covered by everybody so well done.
again well done !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Prologue
I am Vatten Vatra.I am a person that was turned into a damn blood sucking vampire.I am not the only one though.There is another,but he is older.His name is Terra Klima.This story is not one of those happy sunshine we all love each other books.This story is a book about me and how I get though a life that has to survive though blood.If you don't like those kind of books that tells how I went though hell and back, then I guess go pick up a book that has roses and sunshine.
To describe me I'm a well built fourteen year old African American with a full head of pure gray hair, brown eyes, and black clothes all the time. To describe Terra he is a well built cocasion with white hair, green eyes, and white clothes all the time.Our vampire teeth are not visible until we want them to be.
Terra and I are planning somthing.
Somthing Big!
We are planning a Breakout.
Awesome! I really love this! I didn't find any errors in the Grammar but I'm not good at that anyway. Everything seems perfect about your characters and such,
Keep writing this... (Oh, I see you already have, LOL) I'll be sure to read the other chapters!
-Monday
Don't be ashamed of this! This definitely has quite a bit of potential. I know you wrote this sometime in 2006, but I saw chapter 26 I think in the latest forums so I wanted to read the first chapter. It's good and I think it has a lot of potential, I think everyone here can agree with that. The only thing I'm fuzzy on here is what the conflict is. Remember that the conflict is the main part of the story. Clearly there are a lot of probelms going on with Emma, but what's the big conflict? I'm fuzzy on that, but I'm sure you'll establish the conflict in your other chapters.
Keep writing ^^ You're pretty good it at
wow thats really good i liked the use of 1st person in it
That was wonderful. I wonder what's going to happen next. Luckily there is that looooooong list of chapters waiting to be read.
hello, zankoku_na_tenshi...
wow..another fantasy fiction writer..
when i read the first chapter, what caught my attention is the LONG list of succeeding chapters. God, how long are you planning to write?..is the story unfinished yet?
but still, i admire and salute those young people who try to break into the mature world through writing. i'm new here at yws, and i'm enjoying reading fiction.
Land of Sky, Land of Rain...nice title.may i ask where'd you get the idea?..
god bless.
Hey!!! I decided that if I am going to check out your writing, I might as well start from the beginning.
General stuff: Tellling vs. Showing! More showing please! Also, try not to tell us too much of how she's feeling, let her actions speak for herself.
Your characters (namely Emma) are kick-ass. I think Kathleen needs to be a little more subtly mean, especially if she's emma's "friend"/ I think you need to explore that relationship more.
My in-depth crit is attached to this.
coolness
This was an amazing first chapter.
As I was reading, I could clearly see everything you were saying.
The sarcasm, and realness of the piece is evident.
Great job!
Actually, I like everything else of it that I've read (chapters 1-7).
It's just that you need some sing that something changed, like emma noticing that she doesn't hear a sound from the rest of the class, a dread-inspiring, unnatural silence, before she turns around. The blackout, the security gaurd, and her mothers voice dont prepare you to realize that the rest of the class might be dead. it is a shock without context.
The rest of it is good.
The first chapter sucks, basically. the reason is the reader doesn't know to expect some thing weird whe she turns around. all the preveious "weird" things fall into a catgory "weird but normal"
Damn, this is really good! Had me hooked all the way to the end. Finally, someone is making a story out of us loners! I feel so honored now. Apart from a few grammatical errors, it sounds really professional. For a second I forgot I was just reading an online story. I like how creepy it is. Kathleen is a bitch, no offense. The main character sounds like a real person, too. Like someone I can relate to. I'm very loner-ish as well. I can't wait to read chapter 2. Great job!
This was a good beginning. Really, I enjoyed it. Despite the fact that many of the scenes didn't really seem to have a clear point to them, your MC's wry sense of humor kept it entertaining.
But, personally, I try not to break up my stories so much. Example: ***. It just makes the story feel jerky, for lack of a better word. Try to tie some of those short sections together.
If you need an example or want to see a technique in how to do this, I suggest checking out Stephenie Meyer's Twilight. Her MC is constantly doing bathroom stuff, homework, sleeping, etc., and Meyer always ties these activities in nicely with whatever her MC is going to do next.
And the ending was neat. Despite what a critiquer said about it coming out of nowehere, I politely disagree. After all, Emma passed out in gym, was feeling sick, and then she got a morbid phone call from her mother. For me, that's warning enough.
One last thing, about how her supposed best friend and her boyfriend were making fun of her for passing out in gym? I found that unrealistic. If someone in my school passed out, I would be concerned and sympathetic. I think that's how it is for most kids, or the ones who even care. If they don't, I don't think they'd bother saying anything.
All in all, great chapter. Moving on.
KJ
Constructive Criticism, well I can't find much to say.
I wonder how you're going to connect to the bent ID, the ringing phone (that only Emma appears to have heard) and the fainting at P.E. to the bloody ceiling and over all plot.
I haven't read Ch. 2 of any further, so these isn't much more I can critic. Overall, hope you'll be able to tie that all up.
Your voice is good, it fits Emma's personality well, not formal, but the way you would expect a teenager to sound, a bit sarcastic.
Maybe try putting a bit more to lead up to this, about Emma's life at home.
Anyway, good job, I enjoyed it.
this is really good! can't wait to read the rest!
GOSH!!! hun, make it WAY shorter!!! even i, who read a 289 pg book in one day was scared of reading tht!!!! cut it up!!! Otherwise, gj!!
I shall post edits first, then good parts.
Vernon is right. This needs to be broken up. And since I don't have a better way, I will simply repost his--with my edits:
Yeah. All I got is grammar and spelling in this section, except the bolded line. I would suggest cutting it down to: (What on earth was there to look at on a road in suburban Arizona?) I suspect the "and" and the second part aren't really necessary.
I'm not sure, but a different phrase might work better here. However, as I've none to offer, it is totally your call.
Pick one of these, since they mean the same thing. My preference is given to "before first period begins," but you pick.
Use "since" instead of "because", because you use "because" in the next sentence. **blinks** Wow, that sounded weird. I hope you get what I meant.
I would cuts the very's. It sounds better without them.
The double dash is an em dash--a long dash. I guess it's just my preference; it seems to flow a bit better. Also, you should break the second sentence into two with a period.
Split the sentence.
Serious nitpick. I would say "don't," because you use contractions everywhere else in the paragraph.
Nitpick again. "Then I realize" might flow a bit better.
Explanation of what? Of Mendel? Or of what's happening to Emma? Make it clear.
Try "I wouldn't admit this to anyone, even under torture, but...".
Should be:
After this you need to have something about the end of the conversation. Maybe something like:
Or something like that.
Now the parts I found very good (only some of them--otherwise I'd have to type up the whole chapter):
So, overall, this looks like a long review, but almost all of it's grammar and spelling. (I'm OCD about those, so expect it whenever I review.) There are very few things I would change about this chapter. Congrats!!!!!
Shall be back for a proper critique within the week.
Alright, the good thing about your story, the great thing in fact, is that your descriptions completely show me how this girl thinks and feels. It also made every thing that happened completely clear to me. There was not once where I wasn't sure what was happening.
I also liked the phone ringing thing you did. It hinted to me that she may be crazy or have some mental instability, which for all I know could have been induced by her life of not being accepted. If that's not what you're implying then never mind.
Now the bad things. It was basically boring. Someone above mentioned it being the story of this one nerd's school day, and I agree. It wasn't the easiest thing to keep reading, but it wasn't too bad.
Now I'm not saying your a bad writer, in fact, I think your a great writer. I just think this story would be better and easier to read if you'd added some action or something creepy and unexpected to keep us reading. You did this at the end, and I really like it, but It's always best to have something like that at the beginning to get the reader going. Maybe you could do something like when you show something that happens later in the story, then you flash back to the beginning. This makes us want to keep reading to find out what the heck made it happen. That's just a suggestion, though. Don't do it if it will reveal something important that should be left until later.
After reading this, and reading the ending, I want to keep going. I have some pretty good expectations for this story, and I can't wait. Keep up the good work.
Holy Shnaz, this is great. I can really relate, and despite the fantasy elements it's very realistic. Definately a fun read.
This was very well written, and sorry if my critique not that long. I'll do my best First even if speech like this:
This has to be split up- My teachers and parents have been trying to rationalize my behavior pretty much since I was born.
“Oh, Emma’s only having trouble making friends because she’s new!”
“She’s just a little shy, Mrs. Harbor, that’s all...”
“Don’t worry; she’ll grow out of all this eventually”
“Erm... I’m sure this is all just a phase she’s going through....”
“... A very long phase” Blah blah blah.
Also it was a new paragraph. The first bit... hold on I'll check, okay.
You know, I bet the average teacher could spot us right off. Most students probably can too for that matter. We all know the type. The kid you sat next to on the bus who did nothing but stare out the window, while you wondered how the heck she could do that without getting a neck cramp. (And what on earth was there to look at on a road in suburban Arizona? And could this possibly get any more awkward?)
The kid who you can just tell will be more familiar with the cast of some fantasy novel than with their homeroom class?
Yup.
That’d be us.
Us weird, quiet, lame loner kids.
My teachers and parents have been trying to rationalize my behavior pretty much since I was born.
“Oh, Emma’s only having trouble making friends because she’s new!”
“She’s just a little shy, Mrs. Harbor, that’s all...”
“Don’t worry; she’ll grow out of all this eventually”
“Erm... I’m sure this is all just a phase she’s going through....”
“... A very long phase” Blah blah blah.
They never seem to have much hope or conviction about this all. And who would? This is me we’re talking about. Emma Bering, age 14, certified nerd, straight-B student, friendless, unpopular, annoying.
Now tell me, what kind of person would have much hope or conviction about some one like that? Anyone…? Exactly. The only people who think that there’s somehow still a chance for me are those who’ve just met me, but they all learn eventually.
*****************
That's way it supposed to be like, you do it with the third paragraph to, I won't tell ya for that one. It was interesting... I can't doubt that, but nothing new, nothing new at all. Why should I care for her? I like her humour but as others have noted there doesn't seem any major conflict, not even as others have also noted no universal themes either. Plus you use alot of repition not good.
Overall the ending lacked the needed oomph as it hadn't been hinted at well enough. You should work on this and space out work better as huge block of text put people off alot. Give this some vast editing and pm me. I'll look at it again.
Good luck
VSN
This was exenlent and fun too read but with a few errors but they're miner so i'll leave them out so keep writting. I havn't read the other chapters, but i soon will after reading this. keep it up.
XD
Wow.
Uh, wow. I really don't know what to say. I was going to make a big long crit, full of grammar errors but (surprise!) I didn't see any.
Well, I really really totally loved this chapter. Your characterization was very very cool. Emma sure has a ton of personality, and I loved it.
My favorite scene would have to be the library. I just found the entire thing halirous. You are a very good writer, and I am off to read the second chapter.
Sorry for the very unhelpful crit. There was just nothing that I felt needed to be pointed out. Maybe in the second chapter?
Great job!
BBB
Hey! I'm here, just like I said I would be! And there's no need to be shy! Ask for all the crits you want! And I'm sure that I'll read the other chapters soon!
Now the crit:
Are those just random numbers?
Insert comma.
Wow. I love this all ready. This is sooo good... let me read the rest of it!
This narrative has the potential to be very good. As I read, I thought to myself how wonderful the flow of the story is. The narrator is not necessarily a 'unique' character, the school loser has been done before after all, but they are always interesting to read about. It reminded me of the novel Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. Then amongst all this positive paraphernalia, I noticed a blunt discrepancy with your story by the time 'science' was over.
I didn't care about it at all. It was interesting to read, but there was no compelling reason to continue reading. In other words, there didn't seem to be a plot. It seemed to me that I was just reading about some loser for no reason at all. There wasn't even a foreshadowing of a universal theme that was aching to get out. I was just reading about someone's day at school until I got to the social studies class.
A purpose to continue reading was given. The class disappeared. Blood was on the ceiling. Becoming unhinged and reeling at how shocked I was with this ending was inevitable, or so it seemed. The shock came but for reasons you may not expect. I was shocked at how random the ending was. My respect for the narrative had steadily declined from the point where I noticed the discrepancy until the random ending where it was buried forever.
Now, based upon what the ending was I could only assume this is a dream/vision/nightmare/delusion. And it's a fine ending. A common one. But it works although the effect is ruined. No abnormalities have happened previously except for her fainting and not being sick, but that's not really worth mentioning because how it was described in scorn and sarcasm: the tone of the story, made it appear not noteworthy.
You need to leave clues and hints throughout the piece that suggest to our minds that something is not right. Something is out of place whether with the environment or with the girl. If you have all ready done that then you need to make those clues more perceptible.
I know you mean.... I don't know what you mean. Remember, the best words are short, specific, and easy to understand. Some of the words you choose made your writing very mature, like your main character Emma is, but some of your phrasing, like "doubtful scrutiny" really confused me. Maybe a little simpler?
Overall, it was awesome. I can't really complain about much, except you were kind of info-dumpy.
This part is really what grabs my attention. It was what said, this story is sci-fi but somehow still modern.
I'm off to read the next chapter!
Creepy. I thought it would be a nice, friendly urban story right up until the end.
holy crud. This is unbelievably good. This story makes me want to go adn write for days until I am able to get within 50% of getting to that kind of talent. You did an excellent job of capturing a personality, not just some dry storyteller. I am looking forward to your next installment of the story.
and FYI, this is Cody
Well, a pretty solid start so far. Replace the anime bit with either 'video games' or 'writting' and your description on the bus describes me pretty well. And accuratly to boot. Nide work there.
Seems a bit long to me. Make the "and" start a new sentance like:
"The kid you sat next to on the bus who did nothing but stare out the window while you wondered how the heck she could do that without getting a neck cramp. And what on earth was there to look at on a road in suburban Arizona and could this possibly get any more awkward?"
Just a suggestion, but I think this flows better.
What the? Where did that come from? With the pace you have at the beginning, this seems rather abrupt. Is this literally or figuratively? Untill you show us where your going with this, I'm not sure if you need to change it or not, or how.
Overall, I also feel that the pace seems to be a bit dragged out, yet I don't know how to change it without making it worse (Wow, now there's a helpful comment *insert sarcasm*). I love your first person perspective, it really fits the piece and gets me to understand and like the lead character quickly. And that's a good thing. You also get the reader thinking "Huh? What's going on here?" along with her, in a way that makes the reader want to find out. Heck, I'm curious! It's seems to me like time is catching and reapeating the same moment, and she's stuck in that moment. That and the scene with the phone call is a little, creepy. With the voice that's not really the speaker. Who was it that was really speaking?
I'm also curious as to how this ties into the title, but that will come in time I'm sure. Overall, nice piece. I'd like to see where this ends up, as you seem to have a good start. Keep going with this.
thanks very much!
Excellent. Content wise, I can't find anything that should be changed. I only found one error: when you talk about how Kathleen should open a buisness, you forgot a quotation at the end of "Only 75 Cents!"