Let's try again [ Edited ]

[Kat-NE]

Okay, so I have added more to Ch. 2 and am putting the whole chapter on here.  Please leave a response.  No one left one for this chapter yet, and I would like to know if it needs more work.  I'm currently working on Ch. 3, and I want to know if I need to make changes.  I know it's long, but I really like this chapter.  And I hope you guys will too.  Also, Ch. 1 is still somewhere on the board if anyone needs to look at that.

Ch. 2

These dreams have got to stop.  I’m gonna lose my mind.

Olivia, now sitting at her computer desk in the far corner of her room that held an ancient Compaq that her mom bought used and with a keyboard that someone apparently spilt some kind of sticky drink that caused half of the keys to stick unless pounded repeatedly, started looking up information about Jane Austen (one of her favorite authors) for an upcoming paper for English class, trying to get her most recent dream out of her mind.  Failing miserably, she turned off the computer (the computer then froze halfway through shutting down, stupid thing), which only fueled her frustration.

She sat there for a moment, listening for any other sounds coming from her mother’s room.  Her brother, Evan, slept in the bedroom furthest away from Olivia’s, but she could sometimes hear him in the morning, going through his daily workout.  This morning, however, she could hear nothing.

How does he sleep through her screaming like that?  Guess he’s taking a morning off from his workout.  Wish I could have slept in too.

Throwing herself back on her bed, she crawled back under the covers and thought more about the nightmare; if only this was the first time it occurred. 

Ever since she got partnered with Ben for a presentation in History class three weeks before, she started having weird dreams about him.  The dream always started out the same, but always ended badly.  Once, she got to him only to find that he was guarded by at least ten guys with knives and guns and had to run to evade capture.  Another time, she could not find him.  She just kept searching through the maze only to find nothing until she finally woke up.  Her personal favorite was the time she found him completely insane and blood thirsty, chasing her down with a knife after she freed him, screaming the whole way.

Maybe the dreams are a sign that I should just let him go.  It’s not like he’s interested in me anyway.  Sighing, she turned and looked the clock, only to see that it was still just half past five.  Resigning to the fact she wouldn’t be able to get anything accomplished that morning, she got up and grabbed some comfortable looking clothes from one of the drawers she had under her bed (having no closet to put her clothes in) and crept quietly down the hall get to the bathroom to get her shower in.

Ben, the object of her adoration at the moment, had a girlfriend already and seemed perfectly happy with the arrangement.  He was also really popular, really smart, and really oblivious to her existence.

In the time before her fateful pairing with him in History, she had absolutely no contact with him and she had never really thought much about him.  She knew that he was a nice, modest guy who always had a smile on his face.

He’s nothing like he was in the dream.  You just want to find something wrong with him, which is impossible, you idiot, Olivia chided herself as she finished getting dressed in her favorite and most comfortable yellow shirt and slightly torn jeans.

In the three weeks she had worked on their presentation with him, her opinion of him changed.  The long hours they spent together (Okay, maybe it was more like one hour a week, but still.) sparked her interest in him, and now she could barely think of anything else.  Today was the day they would do their presentation on the Crusades, and then she doubted they would ever speak again.   

Not that she was a completely at the bottom of the social pyramid.  They just ran in different circles. He stayed with his jock friends and she was content in her small group that consisted of her friend and fellow choir member Abby, and also her brother Evan and his best friend Peter.

Using the small mirror that hung over the bathroom sink, she tried to do something with her hair, though it seemed to be in a very uncooperative mood this morning.  After a few minutes struggle and aggravation, she settled for just brushing it out and leaving it where it lay. 

After further examination, she noticed that her shirt looked smaller as though it had shrunk a bit.  Then she noticed that she did not need to wear her usual belt with her jeans; they fit tight enough on their own.

Oh no.  Not again!  Olivia thought, while desperately looking around for the scale she kept in the bathroom for such emergencies, only to find it nowhere.  Evan must have it again.

After losing more than forty pounds in the last two years, she thought that she had been keeping active enough, eating better; she had even given up desserts for the most part (it’s not like you can stay away from chocolate all the time).  The pounds seemed to be creeping back in, nevertheless.

Leaving the bathroom, she re-entered her almost as equally small bedroom; she was sure that Evan could extend his arms and touch opposite walls, but she never asked him to try, too depressed by the possibility.

When her mom bought the small two bedroom house, Evan was eight and Olivia was six.  They shared what is now Evan’s bedroom until Olivia turned eleven and her mother decided she needed a room of her own.  Converting the laundry room into a bedroom took the removal of the wall between the room and the one car garage and the placement of some horribly cheap and thin carpet.  Since her mother did not own a car, she moved the washer and dryer to the garage and Olivia got a small room of her own.

With only room for her bed and small writing desk, her only form of decoration was her wall of pictures that took up most wall behind the her bedroom door.  She started her “collage of favorite things”, as she liked to refer it, when she was about twelve.  She never removed items, but kept adding to it until things started overlapping.  Over the years, new posters gradually began to cover her old, slightly worn looking ones, showing changes in her tastes as the years progressed.  Posters of her favorite bands (Daughtry and Aerosmith among the many), favorite movies (her Lord of the Rings poster could be partially seen behind her New Moon one), and pictures of mainly her and Evan throughout their childhood on vacations or just playing around the house were most dominant at the moment. 

Most of the family pictures were taken during the time her dad was still alive; he always knew what moments to capture and the camera was always glued to his hand at any kind of event, be it one of Evan’s ball games or Olivia’s many recitals during their childhood.  There were some very early pictures with the whole family that could still be seen, though other pictures threatened to hid them from view. 

After he died, the pictures were mainly taken friends or Olivia herself.  Here and there, Peter would appear in pictures too.  Abby was also alongside Olivia is some photos, those mainly taken at singing competitions, both smiling whether they had won or not.

After gathering her books and making sure everything she needed for her presentation was there, she left her room.  Crossing the hall to Evan’s room as quietly as she could, she knocked as loudly as she dared on his door.

After receiving no answer, she opened the door.  His door was never locked since he did not have to worry about their mother waking him up prematurely.  She saved those sort of visits for Olivia.  He was not in his room, but his bed was made; well, as made as it ever was.  Not seeing her scale in view, she gave up and left the room.  Wondering where he could be, she closed the door and headed through the hall to the kitchen.

On entering the kitchen slash dining area (not that they ever ate a meal together), Olivia saw that the light was left on, which meant that Evan must have left really early this morning.  The kitchen only consisted of a refrigerator, sink, trash can, and a short counter that had two cabinets hanging over it that contained a handful of bowls, plates, and all of the cooking equipment that the house possessed.

She opened one of the cabinets to retrieve a glass for some water from the sink.  When she turned the water it made a sputtering sound and then released the water and then continued to leak after she turned the water off.

Upon opening the fridge, she discovered that they were out of milk, eggs, any kind of meat, and anything else she may have desired for breakfast.  Only finding a two-week old pizza, left over Chinese from last Friday (or was it Wednesday?), and some really cheap red wine that her mother always kept in stock, spurred Olivia to grab a cereal box off the counter and start eating them dry.

While eating her Cheerios, she wandered over to the window to take a look outside for the first time that day.  The weather seemed to match her mood.  Clouds spread across the sky in dark gray and white clumps.  They seemed to be moving quickly toward the west, and yet no sun could be seen.  After further examination, Olivia discovered that it had rained sometime in the night, the sidewalks were still wet from the rainfall and there were a couple of tree branches lying in view, as though blown down by a hard wind.

How did I sleep through that?  Olivia mused as she finished her breakfast, still looking out the window, now watching the neighbors moving about, leaving for work.

“Not hungry?”  Said a voice from behind her, causing Olivia to jump what felt like two feet in the air and slop her water on her socks.

As she turned around, Evan started to laugh at her surprise, backing up a bit in case she tried to cause him physical pain.

“You freak,” said Olivia in a near whisper, not fully having gotten her breath back yet.  “Make a noise like a normal person.  Are you part fairy or something?”

“Well, really, who did you think it would be?” He said, still smirking at her reaction.  He sat up on the counter, grabbing the Cheerios box she had abandoned and started eating it the same way she had.

“Mom, maybe.”  Olivia said, after she had recovered.

He pretended to think that over for a minute while he ate.

“No, she’s walks pretty loud, with the floor shaking under her, and all.  And you probably would’ve heard her breathing as soon as she left her room anyway.  No element of surprise there.”  He finished the box off, then smashing up the box and forming it into a ball, he threw it as though he was trying to make a free throw shot into the trash can, only to have it hit the side and fall to the floor.

“Wow, if you do all your shots like that at the game Friday, the game’s in the bag,” Olivia commented with a bit of a smile on her face, waiting for his response.

“I think I will,” he said, as though he was taking her suggestion seriously.  “I’m sure it would be something different for the scouts to consider, you know, something that would set me apart from everyone else.”

Olivia just rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, I can see how that would help you get noticed,” she said as she walked toward the sitting room.  “Where have you been?”

“Running.  The storm woke me up around three o’clock, so I decided to use that extra time to get some more exercise in,” Plopping down in the one and only chair in the house, an old rocking chair that had come with the house and was used sparingly because it was so old.

“More exercise?”  Olivia exclaimed, taking a seat on the loveseat, incredulous at the thought.  “When are you not exercising?”

“Well right now I’m sitting here talking to you, so I’m gonna say right now,” he said, leaning back as far as the chair allowed.

“You’re exercising your jaw,” she retorted, only to be annoying.

“Cute,” replied Evan.

“I know I am,” said Olivia, only half serious.

He smiled at that and then looked down at his watch.

“Well I can’t waste my morning chatting with you.”  I need a shower before school, unless,” He paused in the middle of standing up, “Do you think people will leave me alone if I go smelling like this?”

Grinning, she answered, “I don’t know how other people will react, but I’m sure not gonna walk with you.”

“I thought so.”  And with that, he left the room, only staying long enough ruffle my hair as he went by.

Oh, he is so lucky I wasn’t having a good hair day.  After a few moments of combing her hair with her fingers, she deemed it passable again.

Even though they were almost two years apart, had very different interests (him being athletic and her being artistic), and did not always see things the same way, they had always been very close.  As toddlers, they played together constantly.  That was something that did not change as they grew older and each had friends of their own.

Evan willingly took part in Olivia’s “plays” that she used to put on in front of family friends or even at recess at school; only the smallest of roles for Evan, the amateur, of course.  Olivia tried to partake in his interests as well, only to get injured so many times while trying to play ball with his older friends, that he soon released her from that obligation.

Without the option of sharing a sport, they spent a lot of their youth watching movies, eventually becoming action movie buffs.  War movies, sword fights, car chases; any movie that gave them a large battle, fight, or explosions were bound to be re-watched and broken down into discussions that could last for days, or at least until they saw another one.

They had both been very close to their parents during their childhood.   They would go on vacations every summer.  Down to the beach for the weekend, or visiting some relative they had never heard of and rarely remembered much about them afterward for a couple of weeks.  Their parents, Wess and Ronnie, tried to let them be as active as possibly, signing them up for everything and letting them choose what they wanted to do.

Wess died in a car crash when Olivia had just turned six.  It happened when a man, driving drunk, swerved his SUV over the line and hit their dad’s truck coming in the opposite direction.  They were told that he died on impact and that he was not in pain.  The drunk driver walked away from the scene with no more than a concussion. 

Everything changed then.  Evan went through a phase where he would not talk to anyone, except for Olivia, for almost two months (after it was suggested that he should go into therapy, he started talking again, afraid of being locked up with the “crazies” he had seen on TV).  Olivia calmed down, but only from sadness, and was soon as hyper as she ever was.  Their mother on the other hand—

“Hey, are you ready,” said a voice interrupting her musings.  She looked up at Evan, dressed in a black hoodie and baggy jeans, apparently not caring what he looked like today, backpack already over his shoulder.

His sudden appearance reminded her that she was not ready. 

“Two minutes,” she said as she hurried toward her room.

“Let’s see if you can make it in one, shall we?” He said, with just a little sarcasm in his voice.

Olivia went back into the bathroom, brushing her teeth, determined not to have any surprises, food lodged in her teeth, example, during her presentation later on.

Taking one more look in the mirror to mourn her hair’s lack of performance that day, she decided it would do and then dared to walk normally down the hall, now that she was leaving and would not encounter her mother, as she made her way back to the sitting room.

Grabbing her bag as she walked through the room toward the front door where Evan was waiting, eyes on his watch, she announced “I’m ready.”

“Two minutes, ten seconds.  How disappointing.  That’s at least five seconds more than your average,” He stated.  “Oh well, now you know that you need to improve before you decide to run in any races.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Olivia, hitting him on his side as she passed him out the door.  He fell back against the door, withering in pain, as though her punch could actually hurt him.

[Kat-NE]

Cone on guys!  I know it's long but really.  If it sucks I need to know.  Don't be afraid to hurt my feelings. 

[Winch]

Hey, Kat-NE!  Don't feel bad about no one replying.  While I love Barnes & Noble and the idea of this page, it's not to be relied on for prompt critique.  People are too busy posting their own work to comment on others'.  Anyway, I read chapter 2.  I liked it.  You have a lot of great ideas, and your writing style is unique.  Obviously, there are some grammar issues, but don't worry about that.  Its great that you're continuing to write.  For me, its best to bust a chapter out, move on to the next one, and, after a month or so of letting the first one stew, go back to it and read it as a READER, not a WRITER.  

That said, I do have a few suggestions.  Be careful with run-on sentences.  While it is important to vary your sentence length, I got lost in some of yours.  If you feel you HAVE to keep a sentence long, at least throw in a few commas.  Its not the best policy, but its better than nothing.  Second, your attention to detail is wonderful, but don't get too caught up in it.  Just be conscious of what you actually need to further the story and its characters, and what you're writing just to write it.  At certain points, I felt like I was watching a home movie, BUT then I would read a sentence where I thought, "now this could be crucial in understand the characters past/personality."  So, yeah, just be aware of that.  Last is just a general piece of advice: Reading is the best practice for writing.  Read with a writer's eye.  If you see a sentence or paragraph that really speaks to you, go back and break it down and see how they did it.  It works wonders for developing your style.  The second best practice for writing is...writing.  Like I said before, keep writing and your writing will naturally improve.  Your ideas will flow more seamlessly from your head to the page the more you practice.

Overall, good work.  The chapter kept me interested.  You wrote about what you know.  I can only assume you're a teenage girl not that dissimilar to the protagonist, judging by your knowledge of her every-day difficulties and pop-culture.  That's important starting out.  It makes focusing on the story a lot easier.  Keep going and good luck!

[LocoDuc]

First, I am with Winch about frequency of people being on here, since I would be one of them that doesn't come in the room often to see what others' are doing, because I am close to finishing my own first draft. Second, great work on your first draft. The use of parentheses are something done with TV scripts unlike a book from all that I have read - might want to rethink those, however, they are fine in communications. I seem to be in an agreeing mood as Winch has already stated the finer points of writing. Reading your own work is a great way to see what the writer (you) could have done better or never should have been there. Good luck with the book!

[Book_Girl14]

This is great! I really like it! But, did you have to end it where you did? I can not wait for the next chapter...you have to keep writing! So far your characters are really likeable. Your story has detail but is not to slow. I think it is good! Keep writing! I want the next chapter!

[Kat-NE]

Thanks, guys.  I've gone back since I posted and have changed some things.  Almost done with Ch. 3 for Book_Girl14.  Glad you want to keep reading it.

Question:  When you guys were talking about grammar, did you mean when they were talking to each other or the descriptions?  You don't have to go into detail, just curious.