Blue
Lv 4
Blue asked in Arts & HumanitiesBooks & Authors · 1 decade ago

Critique/comments on my first chapter, please?

The clouds were like fields of purple-grey heather, pressing in on my bedroom window when the storm hit.

Normally it was comforting, strangely enough- the steady drumbeat of rain, the bright silver lightning and the deep, rumble of thunder- all of it muffled, reminding me that I was in the warm.

But tonight was different. I was alone in the top floor flat that my mother and I lived in while she was working her night shift at the nursing home. I was fidgety, restless. Pacing the thinly carpeted floor of my room until I was sure the pale brown covering should have been worn away by the tattoo of my feet. The storm was almost calling me and my feet were itching to walk out into the night. The only thing that held me back was caution. You don’t grow up with my mother without learning that.

So I ignored the strange, unnatural pull of the storm and the desire to feel the pellets of rain on my skin. Instead, I bundled myself up in bed, trying hard to get to sleep, but every time I got near to slumbering a crash of thunder would shake me awake.

Finally, my resolve crumbled and I found myself sitting at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea and trying to groom my curly black hair into something descent after its encounter with my mattress, although it didn’t really help.

Again, the pull to go into the storm clutched at me pointlessly. No way would I end up out in the storm just because of an odd whim.

A flash of lightning blinded me momentarily and for some reason I jerked, only to see the steaming tea fall and splash across the table.

I stared.

Because the liquid that had spilled out was reflecting something. Something that wasn’t there. My mother.

She was out in the rain, and she was walking along a nearby street, one that led away from her workplace. And yet... there was someone behind her.

My scream came too late.

The figure- very tall in a sleek black raincoat- had grabbed her, twisting her arms behind her and dragging her backwards, towards Silas Wood. A hand clamped over her mouth and the two figures disappeared into the outstretched arms of the trees.

The reflection vanished, and I realised I was breathing fast, a cold sheen of sweat marking my forehead. What had just happened? What the hell had just happened?

Feeling sick with nerves, I realised I couldn’t phone the police. What would they say? ‘Oh yes, of course we believe you saw this all in your tea! Now, kindly step into this straitjacket...’

I had nobody but myself.

I shed my pyjamas and threw on some clothes, topped by a thick winter’s coat and an umbrella, although my niggling anxiety stayed with me. To calm myself somewhat, I tucked a razor sharp kitchen knife in my pocket, feeling the cool metal through my clothes like a silent reassurance. Before I went out the door, I snatched up my notebook as well. A thick wodge of white, lined pages sandwiched between two doodled-on brown cardboard covers. I carried it with me everywhere, and into a storm to save my mother was no exception.

The door swung open fast, aided by a gale of wind that buffeted at me with the rain. Like it was ushering me out.

It didn’t take long to get to the wood.

The wood. It shouldn’t have existed really, not on the outskirts of Bellum. A city with too many lights and too little clean air. But it grew faster than a wood should have, and despite one attempt to cut it down, a gathering of environmentalists had seen that it wouldn’t be gotten rid of. So Silas Wood stayed; a dark, tangled mess of dense branches that, although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but myself, scared me. But not as much as the idea of my mother’s corpse did, so I pushed thoughts of ghosts and ghouls away and went on.

When I entered, everything seemed to go quiet. The distant roar of cars, the muffled scream of engines and people and even the storm. It was replaced by a breathy wind and the slight patter of rain on the heavy canopy and the scurrying of small, invisible animals.

Using my hands to clear the path through the whippy black branches, I found myself on a narrow path, marked out by the flattened undergrowth and snapped off branches. It was like an invitation, and I knew that no matter how much I wanted to run away, I had to accept it.

So, before I could change my mind, I stepped onto the path, and began to walk.

(Not the whole thing due to the character limit.)

I'm 14 so hopefully it doesn't read like something an 8 year old together, but tell me if it does. In fact, be as harsh as you possibly can, because I'm terrible at picking out mistakes in my writing due to a lack of brainpower.

Thanks!

9 Answers

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  • 1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    Hello,

    So I like this a lot actually. There are a few things that I don't. There is a little *too* much description that bogs down near your opening. You have an eye for detail, but I'm thinking that you tend to slip into over description at times ( I do too and have had to train myself not to)

    "Pacing the thinly carpeted floor of my room until I was sure the pale brown covering should have been worn away by the tattoo of my feet." Excellent imagery.

    But maybe it should say I paced and cut out the fidgety, restless part.

    I lost interest slightly here:

    The storm was almost calling me and my feet were itching to walk out into the night. The only thing that held me back was caution. You don’t grow up with my mother without learning that.

    So I ignored the strange, unnatural pull of the storm and the desire to feel the pellets of rain on my skin. Instead, I bundled myself up in bed, trying hard to get to sleep, but every time I got near to slumbering a crash of thunder would shake me awake.

    But my interest was piqued again at the tea spilling.

    There is one thing that I would like to point out-- and it sort of makes or breaks the believability of the world you have created.

    If storms are usually comforting to her ( i love this because I love storms- i watch them and they make me calm inside which is weird) why is she so unnerved by the storm tonight? It would probably be better if she wasn't SO anxious if you're going to say she loves storms.... but this is up to you--- make it work however you can.

    This is a good write.

  • 1 decade ago

    This is sooooo amazing! ^-^ My ultimate favorite is the very first line. I'm only 13 and I thought I was a good writer until I read this, lol! It was a little long, but if it were in real-book form my eyes would have an easier time reading it. I think it's just computer screens that give me problems.

    Keep writing, no 8 year-old could write this :D

    (PS.. thanks for answering my question!)

  • 1 decade ago

    your REALLY REALLY good

    you should be an author

    and your 14 omg

    is that out of a book? cos that is better than some of the books ive read

    im 13 and read quite alot of books

    if you published it (a whole book) people wouldnt beilve a 14 year old read it

    feel free to ask me what i mean or if u need anymore comments on more work

    hope this helped

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    Great start! There are a few grammar/punctuation mistakes, but not many. Overall, this is an awesome start. I wish I could read the rest of it... :) Keep up the good work!

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  • 1 decade ago

    I think you definitely have a talent for writing. This passage had a great mixture of suspense and descriptive writing. It was easy to connect to. If you could publish a novel with writing of this level, I would definitely read it

  • 7 years ago

    This is awesome! Keep writing and posting the remaining chapters....ur style of writing is very good and nice vocabulary in describing the events .......

    If u write a bit more...maybe u can send it to a PUBLISHER.

    and by the way ..wat genre do you intend to write your story..i.e. Supernatural or Detective action type thingy or what....

    good job...i'm looking forward to the rest...

    Source(s): I'm putting this question on my watchlist...i'm very much looking forward to the rest..
  • 1 decade ago

    Great premise and writing. My only comment is to find your own voice and not use cliche's. Describe things how YOU would not how you have read other people describe them. Good luck, keep writing.

  • 1 decade ago

    I LOVE your first line =)

    i really like this =) ifs full of discription and i like the tea thing

    the character feels really alive for me too =) i like her

    xxx

  • 1 decade ago

    Are you kidding? I know 30 year old that can't even write like that, let alone anyone in my ADVANCED English class. That is awesome!!!

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