Wickimen wrote:
bananaman114 wrote:
wicki is supersecretprojectalphaforcego(working name) still a go?
anyway I might powst som stuf
but I get you to edit all my work anyway!Lolol cool
What is a supersecretprojectalphaforcego etc.
it's our super secret project we're never supposed to mention ever ever
(By the way, I had a dream that I was in a van that.. you know the rest )
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Here goes.. Hope you like it!
Tuesday, October 23rd
My name is Maleigha Erickson. Pronunciation, as no one gets it, is ma-lay-a. Not that I've talked to very many people. I am 13 years old. I've never been out side by myself. I've never been to school. I stole this journal from my mother. I learned to read and write from stealing my little brothers reading book when I was 10. I spend my life in a walk in closet, tied up like a dog. My siblings are forced to lie about me, pretending I don't exist. I only get let out for the bathroom once a day. They throw their left over food in at noon, water at dark. I used to think I must have done something very wrong, to deserve being in here, I know now, that it's probably just because they don't want me. But I don't want to focus on the bad stuff. I have spent my whole life focused on the bad stuff, I need a break, and this journal's going to help me.
Wednesday, October 24th
Today Mother let me go outside with her. Our yard is nice, a playground, a rope swing, and a large fence, so that no one can see us (me?). I got to swing for a while, feeling the wind blowing through my long, long hair. It felt wonderful. That's one thing I love. My hair. I comb through it every day with a comb I made out of the hangers in the closet. I comb and comb, and keep it from getting matted. See, when I was younger, I let it get matted. So Mother shaved it off. It was winter, and I was freezing. Lesson learned. Now, I keep it untangly. Is that a word??? Haha...
Saturday, October 27
As I am determined to only write nice things I haven't written for a while, as nothing nice has happened. They gave me the leftover pizza crust today! Two pieces even had SAUCE on them! Yummy!!! I'm starting to think that maybe only writing the nice things is to hard. Maybe I'll just put everything down. *OK, really, not in the story, should I put the bad and good or not??? I don't want to make it to dark, but I think other wise it's just gonna be boring... ?* I'll decide tomorrow. If they see the light on in here they'll be mad at me for wasting electricity.
Last edited by Maygenr (2012-04-02 18:28:15)
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Grr. I wasn't going to impede on wicki's work but.. I must.
Maygenr: You need to give your character more personality. Instead of just saying what she did, say how she felt when she did that.
That's what a diary i for!
I'm not going to nitpick though- I'll leave that to wicki
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bananaman114 wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
bananaman114 wrote:
wicki is supersecretprojectalphaforcego(working name) still a go?
anyway I might powst som stuf
but I get you to edit all my work anyway!Lolol cool
What is a supersecretprojectalphaforcego etc.it's our super secret project we're never supposed to mention ever ever
(By the way, I had a dream that I was in a van that.. you know the rest )
OH
Wow I'm dense
Yes the supersecretproject is still a go
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OK, this is kinda a little far in my books but I know what I'm doing with the other ones. Could you look at the start of my book and tell me what you think? (I cut out a lot of it so it's really just starting off the book) Sorry its so long. I have no life to be honest! lol
prologue
The two girls looked at the note in shock. What did this mean? Who would pick Evil, and who Good? Who would disobey Jen? What did she mean by "Me or mine"? None of this made any sense at all!
Mylow sat by a tree, licking her paw. "Es tyou humans done readings?" She asked. "What is says? Mylow can not read, remember?" She moved her paw up and down in front of her face.
"Umm…" Sydney muttered. "We'll talk about it later…"
Looking back at Anya, Sydney pocketed the note and headed back to Warlic's tower. This wasn't right… Jen was Evil, but never like this. Jen was smart at times, but never knew things before someone told her. She also would never abandon her friends. What in the name of Lore was going on?!
Lore Master Maya
Sydney walked down the rode with Mylow on her arm.
"This human know Jen?" Mylow asked, untrustingly.
"Yep!" Sydney replied, looking up at Mylow. "If she likes books, she knows Jen!"
Jen was quite the writer. She would randomly start jotting down ideas for books in her notebook just about anywhere; from class, to the store, it didn't matter.
"You know me and humans." Mylow said. "I trusts no one heres."
Sydney giggled. "You don't say, Mymy?" She joked. Mylow and Nythera had gotten into yet another blow-up before they left.
Sydney stopped at a door in the keep. Knocking three times, she waited.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
That was the signal. Maya opened the door.
"Jen's friend?" She asked, Book of Lore in hand.
"Yeah." Sydney nodded.
"Come in then." Maya smiled. "I wish I could tell you where she is right now…"
"As do we, human…" Mylow muttered.
"Mylow!" Sydney growled. "Behave!"
"No." Mylow said, plainly.
Maya chuckled. Not the first time she had seen a talking cat in her shop.
"I think I know something that can help you." Maya said, grabbing a book. "But it will cost you… you do have gold, right?"
"Yeah." Jen had left her some gold when she left the note, just for this meeting.
"Good, good." Maya nodded. "Here's the thing, Jen only told you and Mylow, right? If anyone else knows what I'm doing…"
"She only told us." Sydney assured her.
In Jen's note, she had written a task only to Sydney and Mylow:
Mylow, Sydney,
I have a task for you. You must see Lore Master Maya in her shop. I have left directions to it in what will soon be your room. Cysero will not see it. You must look. I know it is a lot to ask, but you must train. And fast!
She is a book keeper, Maya. She has exactly what you need. Books on Assassin training, among other things. Pick wisely. I know you will.
This is only part of my task for you. You must not mention Deathoc to anyone. He has left of his own accord. All you must know is this: If you want to see me, you must work for it.
Maya also knows a place where I met an old "Friend". You may know him; Artix. He will help you. He must… we will get to this later. For now, let it be.
I know you know what I ask of you. Do as I ask, friend. I know you will.
That bought them here, looking for training and this Artix person. All Sydney knew of Artix was that he was a paladin. This was going to be interesting…
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Wickimen wrote:
bananaman114 wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
Lolol cool
What is a supersecretprojectalphaforcego etc.it's our super secret project we're never supposed to mention ever ever
(By the way, I had a dream that I was in a van that.. you know the rest )OH
Wow I'm dense
Yes the supersecretproject is still a go
okay
wicki do you mind if i help with this
i mean im not going to nitpick
that's your job
but give advice as a whole
if it's okay with you
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bananaman114 wrote:
Grr. I wasn't going to impede on wicki's work but.. I must.
Maygenr: You need to give your character more personality. Instead of just saying what she did, say how she felt when she did that.
That's what a diary i for!
I'm not going to nitpick though- I'll leave that to wicki
OK, I'll try to put more in thanks!
Off topic. Nit picking is gross. And it takes forever, especially if your hair is as long as thick as mine. Yes, me and my siblings got Lice from school. twice. it's terrible.. srry. off topicness.
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Tuesday, October 23rd
My name is Maleigha Erickson. Pronunciation, as no one gets it, is ma-lay-a. Not that I've talked to very many people. I am thirteen years old, but I've never been outside by myself. I've never been to school. I stole this journal from my mother. I learned to read and write from stealing my little brother's reading book when I was ten. Omigosh, the suspense I spend my life in a walk in closet, tied up like a dog. My siblings are forced to lie about me, pretending I don't exist. I only get let out for the bathroom once a day. They throw their leftover food in at noon, water at dark. I used to think I must have done something very wrong, to deserve being in here. I know now no comma that it's probably just because they don't want me. Gragh. WHAT. That's sick. Is that the real reason, or is this in the future and a certain amount of kids aren't allowed, or what? If they really seriously didn't want her, why haven't they killed her? Is she really small and pale from living in a closet? Does she feel lonely, angry, upset? How did she get her little brother's reading book? Do they celebrate her birthday? This is a great story idea with so much room to expand; you should give us a really fleshed-out version rather than bare bones. Or some such crummy metaphor XD But I don't want to focus on the bad stuff. I have spent my whole life focused on the bad stuff, I need a break, and this journal's going to help me. Good. I like how you show her optimism.
Wednesday, October 24th
Today Mother let me go outside with her. Our yard is nice, a playground, a rope swing, and a large fence, so that no one can see us (me?). I like the way she hesitates. I got to swing for a while, feeling the wind blowing through my long, long hair. It felt wonderful. That's one thing I love. My hair. I comb through it every day with a comb I made out of the hangers in the closet. I comb and comb, and keep it from getting matted. See, when I was younger, I let it get matted. So Mother shaved it off. It was winter, and I was freezing. Lesson learned. Now, I keep it untangly. Is that a word??? Haha... I hate this Mother character ._.
Saturday, October 27
As I am determined to only write nice things I haven't written for a while, as nothing nice has happened. They gave me the leftover pizza crust today! Two pieces even had SAUCE on them! Yummy!!! I'm starting to think that maybe only writing the nice things is too hard. Maybe I'll just put everything down. *OK, really, not in the story, should I put the bad and good or not??? I don't want to make it to dark, but I think other wise it's just gonna be boring... ? Yes. Put everything. Everything.* I'll decide tomorrow. If they see the light on in here they'll be mad at me for wasting electricity. Murder your family, kid. Just kidding (maybe). But these are awful people seriously. O_o
Okay so
Great idea and everything
As I said, flesh it out a bit more and you'll be all set
Last edited by Wickimen (2012-04-02 20:25:30)
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bananaman114 wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
bananaman114 wrote:
it's our super secret project we're never supposed to mention ever ever
(By the way, I had a dream that I was in a van that.. you know the rest )OH
Wow I'm dense
Yes the supersecretproject is still a gookay
wicki do you mind if i help with this
i mean im not going to nitpick
that's your job
but give advice as a whole
if it's okay with you
I just edited but I don't mind if you add your comments and stuff
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Wickimen wrote:
Tuesday, October 23rd
My name is Maleigha Erickson. Pronunciation, as no one gets it, is ma-lay-a. Not that I've talked to very many people. I am thirteen years old, but I've never been outside by myself. I've never been to school. I stole this journal from my mother. I learned to read and write from stealing my little brother's reading book when I was ten. Omigosh, the suspense I spend my life in a walk in closet, tied up like a dog. My siblings are forced to lie about me, pretending I don't exist. I only get let out for the bathroom once a day. They throw their leftover food in at noon, water at dark. I used to think I must have done something very wrong, to deserve being in here. I know now no comma that it's probably just because they don't want me. Gragh. WHAT. That's sick. Is that the real reason, or is this in the future and a certain amount of kids aren't allowed, or what? If they really seriously didn't want her, why haven't they killed her? Is she really small and pale from living in a closet? Does she feel lonely, angry, upset? How did she get her little brother's reading book? Do they celebrate her birthday? This is a great story idea with so much room to expand; you should give us a really fleshed-out version rather than bare bones. Or some such crummy metaphor XD But I don't want to focus on the bad stuff. I have spent my whole life focused on the bad stuff, I need a break, and this journal's going to help me. Good. I like how you show her optimism.
Wednesday, October 24th
Today Mother let me go outside with her. Our yard is nice, a playground, a rope swing, and a large fence, so that no one can see us (me?). I like the way she hesitates. I got to swing for a while, feeling the wind blowing through my long, long hair. It felt wonderful. That's one thing I love. My hair. I comb through it every day with a comb I made out of the hangers in the closet. I comb and comb, and keep it from getting matted. See, when I was younger, I let it get matted. So Mother shaved it off. It was winter, and I was freezing. Lesson learned. Now, I keep it untangly. Is that a word??? Haha... I hate this Mother character ._.
Saturday, October 27
As I am determined to only write nice things I haven't written for a while, as nothing nice has happened. They gave me the leftover pizza crust today! Two pieces even had SAUCE on them! Yummy!!! I'm starting to think that maybe only writing the nice things is too hard. Maybe I'll just put everything down. *OK, really, not in the story, should I put the bad and good or not??? I don't want to make it to dark, but I think other wise it's just gonna be boring... ? Yes. Put everything. Everything.* I'll decide tomorrow. If they see the light on in here they'll be mad at me for wasting electricity. Murder your family, kid. Just kidding (maybe). But these are awful people seriously. O_o
Okay so
Great idea and everything
As I said, flesh it out a bit more and you'll be all set
Thank you, that's great! It made me laugh a lot. Not sure why, really. I was really sloppy with my punctuation and stuff. Mainly because I was writing pretty darn fast. I'll be more careful now. And as for all your questions, you'll have to wait unless you don't mind spoilers. Haha, that was really just my draft I wrote that in like, five minutes, next time I'll give you the ready for inspection version!
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Prologue
The two girls looked at the note in shock. What did this mean? Who would pick Evil, and who Good? Who would disobey Jen? What did she mean by "Me or mine"? None of this made any sense at all! Hmm okay, here's what I think. Suspense is good...but jumping right in can annoy readers a little bit. A good way to keep the suspense but not make it absolutely confusing would be to put the text of the note above.
Mylow sat by a tree, licking her paw. "Es tyou humans done readings?" she asked. "What is says? Mylow can not read, remember?" She moved her paw up and down in front of her face. Loool
"Umm…" Sydney muttered. "We'll talk about it later…"
Looking back at Anya, Sydney pocketed the note and headed back to Warlic's tower. This wasn't right… Jen was Evil, but never like this. Jen was smart at times, but never knew things before someone told her. She also would never abandon her friends. What in the name of Lore was going on?!
Lore Master Maya ...?
Sydney walked down the rode with Mylow on her arm.
"This human know Jen?" Mylow asked, untrustingly.
"Yep!" Sydney replied, looking up at Mylow. "If she likes books, she knows Jen!"
Jen was quite the writer. She would randomly start jotting down ideas for books in her notebook just about anywhere; from class, to the store, it didn't matter.
"You know me and humans." Mylow said. "I trusts no one heres." Lol, Mylow's way of talking. Interesting.
Sydney giggled. "You don't say, Mymy?" she joked. Mylow and Nythera had gotten into yet another blow-up before they left. Uh, a blow-up?
Sydney stopped at a door in the keep. Knocking three times, she waited.
Knock, knock, knock.
That was the signal. Maya opened the door.
"Jen's friend?" she asked, Book of Lore in hand.
"Yeah." Sydney nodded.
"Come in then." Maya smiled. "I wish I could tell you where she is right now…"
"As do we, human…" Mylow muttered.
"Mylow!" Sydney growled. "Behave!"
"No," Mylow said, plainly. Your dialogue is good--a lot of people seem to think it's just random text you shove between quotation marks XD
Maya chuckled. Not the first time she had seen a talking cat in her shop. Lolol
"I think I know something that can help you," Maya said, grabbing a book. "But it will cost you… you do have gold, right?"
"Yeah." Jen had left her some gold when she left the note, just for this meeting.
"Good, good." Maya nodded. "Here's the thing. Jen only told you and Mylow, right? If anyone else knows what I'm doing…"
"She only told us," Sydney assured her.
In Jen's note, she had written a task only to Sydney and Mylow:
italics=good so you know what's part of the note
Mylow, Sydney,
I have a task for you. You must see Lore Master Maya in her shop. I have left directions to it in what will soon be your room. Cysero will not see it. You must look. I know it is a lot to ask, but you must train. And fast!
She is a book keeper, Maya. She has exactly what you need. Books on Assassin training, among other things. Pick wisely. I know you will.
This is only part of my task for you. You must not mention Deathoc to anyone. He has left of his own accord. All you must know is this: If you want to see me, you must work for it.
Maya also knows a place where I met an old "Friend". You may know him; Artix. He will help you. He must… we will get to this later. For now, let it be.
I know you know what I ask of you. Do as I ask, friend. I know you will.
That bought them here, looking for training and this Artix person. All Sydney knew of Artix was that he was a paladin. This was going to be interesting…
Ok, so you got the note text now then. Good.
This seems like it could develop into a cool story , but I found myself getting confused often. Without infodumping, perhaps you could blend some background story in, so the reader isn't tossed in without having a clue what the heck anything is?
Last edited by Wickimen (2012-04-02 20:39:13)
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Wickimen wrote:
Prologue
The two girls looked at the note in shock. What did this mean? Who would pick Evil, and who Good? Who would disobey Jen? What did she mean by "Me or mine"? None of this made any sense at all! Hmm okay, here's what I think. Suspense is good...but jumping right in can annoy readers a little bit. A good way to keep the suspense but not make it absolutely confusing would be to put the text of the note above.
Mylow sat by a tree, licking her paw. "Es tyou humans done readings?" she asked. "What is says? Mylow can not read, remember?" She moved her paw up and down in front of her face. Loool
"Umm…" Sydney muttered. "We'll talk about it later…"
Looking back at Anya, Sydney pocketed the note and headed back to Warlic's tower. This wasn't right… Jen was Evil, but never like this. Jen was smart at times, but never knew things before someone told her. She also would never abandon her friends. What in the name of Lore was going on?!
Lore Master Maya ...?
Sydney walked down the rode with Mylow on her arm.
"This human know Jen?" Mylow asked, untrustingly.
"Yep!" Sydney replied, looking up at Mylow. "If she likes books, she knows Jen!"
Jen was quite the writer. She would randomly start jotting down ideas for books in her notebook just about anywhere; from class, to the store, it didn't matter.
"You know me and humans." Mylow said. "I trusts no one heres." Lol, Mylow's way of talking. Interesting.
Sydney giggled. "You don't say, Mymy?" she joked. Mylow and Nythera had gotten into yet another blow-up before they left. Uh, a blow-up?
Sydney stopped at a door in the keep. Knocking three times, she waited.
Knock, knock, knock.
That was the signal. Maya opened the door.
"Jen's friend?" she asked, Book of Lore in hand.
"Yeah." Sydney nodded.
"Come in then." Maya smiled. "I wish I could tell you where she is right now…"
"As do we, human…" Mylow muttered.
"Mylow!" Sydney growled. "Behave!"
"No," Mylow said, plainly. Your dialogue is good--a lot of people seem to think it's just random text you shove between quotation marks XD
Maya chuckled. Not the first time she had seen a talking cat in her shop. Lolol
"I think I know something that can help you," Maya said, grabbing a book. "But it will cost you… you do have gold, right?"
"Yeah." Jen had left her some gold when she left the note, just for this meeting.
"Good, good." Maya nodded. "Here's the thing. Jen only told you and Mylow, right? If anyone else knows what I'm doing…"
"She only told us," Sydney assured her.
In Jen's note, she had written a task only to Sydney and Mylow:
italics=good so you know what's part of the note
Mylow, Sydney,
I have a task for you. You must see Lore Master Maya in her shop. I have left directions to it in what will soon be your room. Cysero will not see it. You must look. I know it is a lot to ask, but you must train. And fast!
She is a book keeper, Maya. She has exactly what you need. Books on Assassin training, among other things. Pick wisely. I know you will.
This is only part of my task for you. You must not mention Deathoc to anyone. He has left of his own accord. All you must know is this: If you want to see me, you must work for it.
Maya also knows a place where I met an old "Friend". You may know him; Artix. He will help you. He must… we will get to this later. For now, let it be.
I know you know what I ask of you. Do as I ask, friend. I know you will.
That bought them here, looking for training and this Artix person. All Sydney knew of Artix was that he was a paladin. This was going to be interesting…
Ok, so you got the note text now then. Good.
This seems like it could develop into a cool story , but I found myself getting confused often. Without infodumping, perhaps you could blend some background story in, so the reader isn't tossed in without having a clue what the heck anything is?
Thanks! I'll keep this in mind!
And like I said, its kinda far in my saga. If your interested in reading the rest, I could upload them to a download site for you? (The first books intro was kinda bad but it gets explained once I finish the saga in book 5 *not written yet*)
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Wickimen wrote:
Ohh, so it's the Prologue but not to book one?
Okay that'd make sense
yup. It's the first two chapters, actually. Lore Master Maya was the chapter name. I'm still new at forum things and don't know how to set up italics yet...
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SoulAlly_Hanna wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
Ohh, so it's the Prologue but not to book one?
Okay that'd make senseyup. It's the first two chapters, actually. Lore Master Maya was the chapter name. I'm still new at forum things and don't know how to set up italics yet...
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Wickimen wrote:
SoulAlly_Hanna wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
Ohh, so it's the Prologue but not to book one?
Okay that'd make senseyup. It's the first two chapters, actually. Lore Master Maya was the chapter name. I'm still new at forum things and don't know how to set up italics yet...
Thanks!
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Haha, I do the exact opposite: I hate to revise!
Chapter One
I lie with the blanket over me, listening to the sounds of gunfire nearby. Still, I think, gotta stay still. They won't see me if I'm still.
Screams echo from somewhere close, but I feel little reaction. Those who are unfit or unlucky died. It's just the way of things.
My mother and little brothers were three of the unlucky ones.
Eventually the sounds subside, but I don't move. Not yet. Not until Dad gives the word.
It feels like an eternity until he finally does. "Scott, it's safe now. You can come out." His voice is hoarse from dehydration, and I know mine must be little better. Gingerly pushing aside the dirt-colored blanket, I try to stand. Dad's scabbed, calloused hand reaches down and helps me up.
Looking around, I see the dead bodies bleeding in the dust. Most of them I don't feel sympathy for, but then my gaze sweeps over the body of a small boy. I step over to him and - to my horror - feel a tear forming in my eye, but sweep it away quickly with a grimy hand.
I had been younger than him when this whole apocalypse started.
When I look into his glazed blue eyes, I realize how similar to the older of my younger brothers, Jonathan, he looks. Everything, from the dirty-blond hair to the freckles across his face, to the pale blue eyes, reminds me of little Jonny.
"Hey! You! Get away from my boy!" I look up to see a woman running towards me. Her brown hair hangs in filthy strands, clothes ripped and muddied, dirt streaking her skin.
I back away quickly. ''I'm sorry! I was just thinking how much he looks like my little brother, who died a year ago from sickness."
"Tough luck," growls the woman as she carefully picks up the limp form of her son. I see something glint in her soot-gray eyes, but she turns and hurries off into the trees.
Dad takes hold of my wrist and leads me away from the battlefield. "Scott, I know he looked like Jonny. But I thought you knew to stay away from dead bodies - they might have sicknesses. And especially stay away from kids. Most likely there'll be some insane parents wanting anyone to vent their rage on."
"You and Mom weren't crazy, even when Jonny and Browny died."
"If you go and die on me that'll be the last straw. I'm really close to snapping. You think your mom and brothers dying was any easier for me?"
I'm about to reply when I found Dad's hand covering my mouth. "Be quiet, Scott."
From somewhere farther up the cobblestone path, harsh voices reach our ears. Dad pulls me to the side of the path, diving behind several thick bushes. I reach automatically for the old, dirty blanket tied around my waist like a rope. Throwing it over us, I grab for the large rusty knife thrust into the back of the leather strap circling my chest and going over one shoulder.
Dad stays my hand as a group of about ten people parade past. They were raggedy and dirty, but well-armed. "Too many to fight," Dad breathed.
I gaze longingly at the backpacks slung over their shoulders. Food. I haven't tasted food in almost two days, and not a drop of water since last night.
The survival section of my mind knows that I could kill the last person silently and steal the food. I had done it before. I could do it again.
But that same survival mind knows that I can't risk it. They'd find me and kill me and then Dad would finally go insane, like he said he would.
Trying to ignore the sharp pangs of hunger and the stings of my thirsting mouth, I watch the group tramp into the distance.
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Chapter One
I lie with the blanket over me, listening to the sounds of gunfire nearby. Still, I think, gotta stay still. They won't see me if I'm still. Intrigue =O
Screams echo from somewhere close, but I feel little reaction. Those who are unfit or unlucky died. It's just the way of things. Ohthecoldness. It fits with the story well though. However, no one likes a _completely_ hardened main character. They'll get sick of/annoyed by/horrified by their lack of caring for anything
My mother and little brothers were three of the unlucky ones. D:
Eventually the sounds subside, but I don't move. Not yet. Not until Dad gives the word.
It feels like an eternity until he finally does. "Scott, it's safe now. You can come out." His voice is hoarse from dehydration, and I know mine must be little better. Gingerly pushing aside the dirt-colored blanket, I try to stand. Dad's scabbed, calloused hand reaches down and helps me up.
Looking around, I see the dead bodies bleeding in the dust. Most of them I don't feel sympathy for, but then my gaze sweeps over the body of a small boy. I step over to him and - to my horror - feel a tear forming in my eye, but sweep it away quickly with a grimy hand. Forget what I said about "no one likes a completely hardened main character lol
I had been younger than him when this whole apocalypse started.
When I look into his glazed blue eyes, I realize how similar to the older of my younger brothers, Jonathan, he looks. Everything, from the dirty-blond hair to the freckles across his face, to the pale blue eyes, reminds me of little Jonny.
"Hey! You! Get away from my boy!" I look up to see a woman running towards me. Her brown hair hangs in filthy strands, clothes ripped and muddied, dirt streaking her skin.
I back away quickly. ''I'm sorry! I was just thinking how much he looks like my little brother, who died a year ago from sickness." Accurate, but it sounds too formal for dialogue, especially when caught off guard/feeling sad. Perhaps you could break it up a little, put in some hesitation, "I'm sorry. I...was just thinking how much he looks like my little brother. He...he died a year ago, from sickness." Here are some great articles about dialogue: 1 and 2 they're both great articles that helped me a lot
"Tough luck," growls the woman as she carefully picks up the limp form of her son. I see something glint in her soot-gray eyes, but she turns and hurries off into the trees.
Dad takes hold of my wrist and leads me away from the battlefield. "Scott, I know he looked like Jonny. But I thought you knew to stay away from dead bodies - they might have sicknesses. And especially stay away from kids. Most likely there'll be some insane parents wanting anyone to vent their rage on."
"You and Mom weren't crazy, even when Jonny and Browny died."
"If you go and die on me that'll be the last straw. I'm really close to snapping. You think your mom and brothers dying was any easier for me?"
I'm about to reply when I found Dad's hand covering my mouth. "Be quiet, Scott."
From somewhere farther up the cobblestone path, harsh voices reach our ears. Dad pulls me to the side of the path, diving behind several thick bushes. I reach automatically for the old, dirty blanket tied around my waist like a rope. Throwing it over us, I grab for the large rusty knife thrust into the back of the leather strap circling my chest and going over one shoulder.
Dad stays my hand as a group of about ten people parade past. They were raggedy and dirty, but well-armed. "Too many to fight," Dad breathed.
I gaze longingly at the backpacks slung over their shoulders. Food. I haven't tasted food in almost two days, and not a drop of water since last night.
The survival section of my mind knows that I could kill the last person silently and steal the food. I had done it before. I could do it again.
But that same survival mind knows that I can't risk it. They'd find me and kill me and then Dad would finally go insane, like he said he would.
Trying to ignore the sharp pangs of hunger and the stings of my thirsting mouth, I watch the group tramp into the distance.
Great story One thing you might want to add a little more of is imagery--setting the scene and stuff. Using metaphors and similes is also a great way to get across what something or someone looks like. Focus on the way everything looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels. In contrast, don't go overboard either, or it will start to become boring--just throw in some more sensory imagery now and then
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Will send some of my old and new stuff when I get off my lazy butt and get them.
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Wickimen wrote:
I didn't last a day "taking a break from writing", but I'll keep the Editing Shop open anyways
xD
Uhh, should we open a topic for our story?
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ProgrammingFreak wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
I didn't last a day "taking a break from writing", but I'll keep the Editing Shop open anyways
xD
Uhh, should we open a topic for our story?
Sure
What I have of Chapter One is on the other computer
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too bad that I only write german stories >( I'd love to get them reviewed...
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