Scratch

NoxSpooth wrote:

ROSMan wrote:

yay it's back 

maybe to get some extra feedback i should repost my story from the first topic here...
is that ok? 

Yes, do it! 

a'ight, here goes.

I edited it a little 'cause soup kindly edited it for me on the first topic 

[Untitled]

1984. Coincidentally, that is the book I was reading when all of this took place.
    Reading and walking. That’s how I spent my free time.
Until, right before my eyes, a muscular man swiped the book out of my hands. I slowly looked up, somewhat
startled. The man looked thirty-something, had a big mustache, and a cigar of equal size. He looked as if he was in a position of authority, although I didn’t recognize him.
    I jumped up, confused, trying to retrieve the one thing that mattered to me. The man grinned slightly and lifted
it up so it was out of my reach. I was now helpless.
    “Who are you?” I asked. I was surprised at myself; I wasn’t usually a talker.
    “Books are now illegal. Don’t you watch the news?”
    I shook my head. The man slowly walked away, still holding my book. I didn’t try to fight back, because
something in my gut told me he was a good fighter. But more importantly, books- illegal? I shook my head in
disbelief, but deep down I could tell the man spoke the truth.
    It was then that I heard lots of commotion down the next street. I sprinted down the street, worried. As I approached the sound, I noticed that the crowd was extremely dense.
    As I finally got to the street, I was surprised to see a german man with a long mustache on a small elevated space. The man carried a megaphone.
    I believed I’d seen this man somewhere before. I racked my brain. I remembered: at a dentist appointment, on a TV. Now I began to remember. This man was ruler of the world!
    You see, everyone in my time has become so focused on world peace that when this man came on TV and said he was ruler of the world, in order to avoid war, everyone let this go.
    The man spoke through the megaphone. “Hello, you may know me as K. I am now proud to announce that no more riots will occur, no more crime, no more wrongdoings altogether.”
    The crowd cheered wildly.
    “Because starting today, it will be illegal to read. Anyone who is caught reading anything other than the K Post (which I will explain later) will face immediate execution. I have called for you today to end your temptation of reading. We will burn every last book you have for you for free, right here and right now.
    “About the K Post I mentioned earlier: the K Post will give you none other than the truth on everything you need to know about the world. You may have the first edition of the K Post free.”
    This was an outrage!
    I charged toward the stack of burning books. As I rummaged through them, I spotted 1984!
    I grasped 1984, carrying it like a parent protecting a child. My hands were burning, but I didn’t care about anything else at that time. My only thought was that I had to keep an artifact from a once free world; in fact, a book about a fear that this might happen.
    The flames eventually settled as I sat down in my living room. I was, well . . . not all right. My arms were in a fixed position for such a long time; it took me a while to remember the book. After my burned hands were strong enough to turn the pages of the book, I saw what I had feared the most: several blank pages, with a half-gone phrase here or there. I couldn’t read the book, that much was obvious. But, I did notice something that gave me hope.
    On the page I had left off on, I noticed nothing but the phrase “find help”. this influenced me to write to you.
    The next day, I found a “K Post” folded up on the sidewalk. The main headline read, “ALL BOOKS ARE WRONG. THE K POST IS RIGHT.”
    The sad part about this was that not only was this atrocious writing, but I knew many people had come to believe anything that had been put in front of them. Even the handful of people like me who hunger for justice will eventually end their ways, after this being the only thing they read for several years. K is brainwashing our world.
    By the time I read this again, I may not even understand the meaning behind my point. Too much is wrong with this world.

Last edited by ROSMan (2013-04-14 19:46:52)

EmperorEvil wrote:

Waffle27 wrote:

EmperorEvil wrote:

I wrote this for school like a year ago and thought it was superb but reading back, it was written kind of badly, and the whole scene at the park at the beginning is just terrible. I used to write a lot but I don't know what I did with it all.

This is pretty good! The entire last page is in bold though...
Otherwise, good!! If you consider that TERRIBLE I'd like to see the best you've written! 

I haven't written much, I wrote this thing that was pretty good about a depressed guy but it embarrasses me.

its not a good idea to write about depressed unless you are/have been depressed, i've seen

It wasn't told through the eyes of the depressed guy and it was more based on this plot idea that I had in mind than the depression part.

EmperorEvil wrote:

It wasn't told through the eyes of the depressed guy and it was more based on this plot idea that I had in mind than the depression part.

then you could make that work

also don't use me as an authority figure for anything, I havent written anything in like almost two months and the last thing i wrote sucked, then another two months and something i found decent. Go figure.

soupoftomato wrote:

Waffle27 wrote:

Here's a random beginning:

A soft, fluttering breeze lifts my mousy brown hair from my shoulders. Against my back, the pack is heavy and causes sweat to form in tiny droplets as I pant to uphold its weight. Just another normal day at the zoo—or should I say night? My fifth grade class and I get the chance to spend the night at the zoo! The prospect of seeing the animals at night, and helping to feed polar bears, wolves, and penguins, is the only thing that keeps me from setting down my pack and running back to the shaded bus.
    There are a couple things you should know about me. My name is Bonnie Grace Taylor, and I’m eleven years old. The one thing I adore in life is nature. Animals, plants, you name it, I know it. And chances are, I love it! The one animal I hate though is a hippo. Not only are they extremely dangerous, but they aren’t extremely pretty either.
“Bonnie!” I look up. The rest of the group has halted at a statue of an alligator, and a couple kids are sitting on its back, laughing and trying to push each other off.
It takes me a second to figure out why my teacher, Mr. Bollings, called out my name. “Oh! Present!” I reply. A couple kids giggle, and my face flushes red as I attempt to ignore them. My legs ache, and I long to sit on the alligator with some of the others, but instead I sentence myself to the concrete sidewalk. Sitting with them would have been worse.
All too soon, we rise to our feet again. My ankle throbs with the rhythm of our feet padding against the pavement, but I want to seem strong. At least more strong than the rest of the class, who is whining and complaining about their thirst or injuries. Ignoring them, Mr. Bolling and the other two chaperones carry on until we reach the Staff Office, near the back of the zoo.  Just past it is the Jungle Adventures section, and to the right is the Waterworks and Café. I hate to admit it, but I want to stop to grab a bite to eat. My stomach growls in agreement.
“Here we will meet our Tour Guide for today,” Mr. Bollings announces. “I want you all to be polite and respectful.  Just one rude remark and you’re going to spend the whole tour in the Cryptids Café with me, got it?” We all nod, some dutifully, some politely, some absently. My nod is one of the latter.
    Mr. Bollings looks us over, checking for honesty, and then knocks on the door. “Just a second!” calls a voice from inside. Seconds later, the door opens to reveal our Tour Guide. She smiles at us. “Hello, my name is Katie. Are you ready to begin our tour?”

Anyway, they were going to get locked in the zoo and somebody (mysterious person) unlocks all the animal cages and they have to avoid the animals until morning.

It reads like a passage off of a standardized test.

Um, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

soupoftomato wrote:

It was kind of bland, and "Hello! I am soandso of the age number!" is to be generally avoided.

Yeah, I guess it wasn't bad but it didn't have a lot of a specific style or voice or whatever they call it but that's something that comes with lots of practice I guess (I guess??)

Marion’s mother let out one last, forlorn, cry before crumpling to the ground in a motionless heap. Cloaked in black, the heartless murderer stood with his back to the doorway. Next on the list was Marion’s father, who was now rushing to his wife’s side, a flood of tears cascading down his cheeks. And then were Marion and her brother Deric, who was still sleeping soundly in his bed across the hall.
    No one made a sound. Not even Marion, standing unseen in her parents’ doorway, said a word. Her lips parted in a scream, but no sound came out. Salty tears were streaming down her face uncontrollably. Marion yearned to run to her mother’s side, to hug her, wake her up from the endless sleep called death. But she couldn’t. Whenever she tried to move her legs, a sour pain would shoot into her chest, almost as if she were having a heart attack.
    Marion’s mother was dead.
    Nobody had seen her yet, not even her father, who was standing directly across from her when she entered, staring listlessly into space. He had uttered two incomprehensible words before grabbing Marion’s mother’s hand and making a mad dash towards the door. Then the person—thing—had killed Mrs. Garms with no apparent weapons on his body. Mrs. Garms had been ten feet away from it, and still it had killed her. Without a gun, without a weapon, without a sound, the thing had killed her.
    And Marion found that she wanted revenge.


What do you guys think about this? Is it any better/what could I improve upon? Its another introduction type thing for one of my books. (Sorry if I'm bugging you guys, I just really want feedback on my writing so I can continue to improve!)

That's a lot better than the other thing

soupoftomato wrote:

Waffle27 wrote:

luiysia wrote:

is this a reference to the nursery rhyme or did you just make up words

also, @soup: almost a sixth of your sentences began with "orson did x", it feels kind of jarring to me? probably just me though.

Although I do make up words a lot, at my school thats what they know me for.

Are you trying to be Doctor Seuss.

(Making up words doesn't really work unless you're Shakespear or Dr. Seuss)

what about charles BANANAWIN??????????? xD

this is, in all honesty, the best thing I have ever written or will write

again, could someone please edit my story?

it's at the top of this page.

Last edited by ROSMan (2013-04-16 16:27:15)

Nomolos wrote:

ROSMan wrote:

again, could someone please edit my story?

it's at the top of this page.

It doesn't look like it needs much editing to me. 

why, thank you! 

You really don't think it could get any better?

"unique"