07-01-2009 10:08 PM
i have this under teen reads, too, because i didn't know that the writing room even existed soooo....
here it is-- i wrote this a while ago, and i want to know what some people think about it. and this is the prologue. it's one of two i wrote, the other is in the teen reads. but anyway, here ya go
I thought it was the dream that woke me up that night. But now as I look back, I think that it was the ear wrenching screams from down the hall. Might’ve been both, I don’t know.
My dream started out all candy and sugar—you know, kid stuff. It was all from the day I had, Halloween. My birthday. I don’t think the sugar part of the dream lasted long enough, because soon enough, something else had taken over my mind, changing my beloved dream into a nightmare.
I remember the demon like monster being one from a story my father had told me. He had always loved to scare me and my older brother with stories like that, and he was good at it, too. He had told us that this monster would lurk in the shadows, just waiting—watching. From that point on, I had been afraid of the dark—of course, though, most eight year olds were.
My dad warned me that if I didn’t keep a nightlight in my room, the ‘scary monsters’ would come and get me. He described them as beautiful creatures, with pale, cool skin, their bright, lusting eyes, and their desire for human blood—no wonder they ruled my nightmares. He told me they were called vampires, and, being the stupid child I was, I was actually afraid of them.
I was so close to this vampire, in the nightmare, that I could see his face so clearly. I could hear screaming behind me, but I was too afraid to turn away from this beautifully dangerous monster. He gave me a smile, showing his dagger like teeth.
And that’s when I woke up gasping.
I had woken up to complete darkness, and I scrambled to find the switch on my lamp. Once the light was on, I heard it again. The screaming. I swallowed, and slowly climbed out of my bed. Eight year olds shouldn’t be doing this, I though. The moment my hand touched the door knob, a chill went through me.
And I heard more screaming.
Mom and Dad! I swung the door open, and bolted down the hall. It was too dark to see, and I was shaking so bad that I thought that I could just vibrate through the floor. My little heart was fluttering away in my chest as I closed in on the living room. I tried to turn the light switch on, but those didn’t work, and the curtains were drawn—I was stuck in the dark.
I let out a small whimper, and heard the screaming suddenly stop. I continued my way down the hall, still, complete darkness. All I could hear was the rain hitting the windows, and my own heavy breathing.
Once I turned the corner to the living room, all I could think was, “What’s that smell?”
I looked around, and saw nothing. Until my eyes focused on something my mind couldn’t grasp right away. Two golden eyes staring at me from across the room and teeth damp in my families blood. Even from this distance, I could tell through his eyes that he was smiling.
And I screamed.
That seemed to just set him off, and he dropped my brother’s lifeless body to the ground. As he started toward me, he stepped over the bodies of my parents as if they were a carpet. Lightning flashed, and I saw that my whole family—even my dog!—were soaked in the red ooze. Which, I now realize, must’ve been the smell.
He was closing the distance between us too slowly, and I had almost wished for him to go faster. To get it over with. I fell to the floor, trying to scramble away from this—this monster!
And then I just froze—there was no point. Well, that’s what I thought back then. I guess no one could fight back when you’re eight. When he got closer, I could clearly make out his face, and almost started crying when I saw the resemblance in him and the vampire from my nightmare. And tell this day, his face—those eyes—were etched into my brain.
And then he was there, lifting me up by the neck, his touch was so cold. So much like a corpses’. He smiled, and his fangs glistened in the blackness, blood dripping from the tips of his fangs. I couldn’t breath, and I could just feel death creeping up my arms, over my skin. He inclined his head, getting closer, closer. As I was to dying.
And then the door opened, and I was dropped to the floor, begging my lungs to gather air to breath. The man had been thrown back, by a force too fast for my eyes to capture.
I had been saved. Saved from my nightmare come to life, only the reality was worse. My eight year old mind, and body had passed out at that point, but I was still alive. And, from then on, I was no longer afraid of the dark, or of vampires.
sorry if it's a little long!!
07-01-2009 11:44 PM
here's some more!!! and again, i'm sorry if ya think it's too long, but that's jus how it is!!!
I rounded the corner, and stopped just before entering the Hall of Misfortune. I took a deep breath, to steady myself, and walked into my internal doom. Yeah, I know, this was all part of my life. I should be used to seeing all these faces, and having none of them resembled any form of kindness.
But, I wasn’t.
I walked past a group of wizards, who were speaking of some land called Runescape I had not gotten the chance to know of. I avoided their eyes, hoping not to have gotten cursed by being near them. I looked strait ahead, hoping I blended in with the crowd. But of course I wouldn’t. I mean, I had long, jet black hair, bordering my pale features. I usually wore dark jeans, mainly black, with multiple holes. And my shirts consisted of dark camis under sweatshirts. My wardrobe would work well for a burglar.
And then I saw the leaders of the Great Hall—the mistresses to the king, the princesses. They would throw dirty looks at me through their fake eye lashes, and mounds of globed on make-up, all this was hope that the king would notice them, and give them an ounce of his time.
I walked past, and their conversation about the newest, hip shoe stopped in an instant. I’ve always wondered, if they hated my outfits so much, why would they stop talking about clothes as I walked past? Don’t they want me to learn about the newest teen trend? Not that I really wanted to, anyway.
The princesses, all pampered and ready for the king’s arrival, were ambushed by a group of the kingdom’s royal knights, the king’s aids. Their bodies smelt of sweat, and Axe, as they made their way around me. I squeezed through their questioningly large, muscular bodies, and through the crowd.
Right into the king himself.
He looked down at me; his dark, mysterious eyes were glittering. He gave me a warm smile, and I thought that my heart would melt all the way to my feet, and out of my converse shoes.
“Hello,” he said to me, his voice melting into me like sweet, sweet honey.I couldn’t believe that the king would talk to me directly, and this close! He looked down at me, waiting for me to say something, as the silence hung between us.
“Oh, ah—hi,” I managed, squeakily.He opened his mouth to say something, when a tan arm looped through his. And then a blonde head appeared, and he shut up. Almost instantly.
The queen smiled up at her king, happy to be the royalty in the great kingdom. She pulled the king away from me, without another thought― but not forgetting that hateful glare.
I sighed, and blew hair out of my face.
Okay, so I lied. There are no wizards, or royal knights, or any princesses. Only geeks, jocks, and the slutty girls. And the Hall of Misfortune was actually the junior hall in Oak Ridge High. And the king, oh the king, he’s the king of every girl’s imagination here—Conner Scheels. Even me, I have to admit, sadly. But his thrown is to be shared with the she witch (not a real witch), Samantha White.
Ahh, high school, how I hated it so. I just hate waking up so early just to have some boring teachers slowly melt my brain away, into mush.
No one likes mush.
I continued down the hall, toward my classroom. But—one last look at the king, and I rounded the corner.
07-07-2009 03:47 PM
Okay, the first post was really very well done. You are an excellent storyteller with beautiful flow, but you must learn to cut out redunant adjectives and bring the reader closer to your characters more.
Your second post, honestly, was not as well written, and (unless I'm totally spacing) it did not seem to match with the first one at all.
Yet the words bite, scream, and scratch within me, until I release them from their imprisonment, forever stained in black and white.*
Yeah, I said it.
07-12-2009 11:26 AM
Not a bad beginning! I enjoyed it, but you need to clarify a few things.
Why was her father telling her such detailed vampire stories/descriptions? Was he a vampire too? Was he perhaps the one who burst into the room to save her? If so, then he could say something to the other vampire, along the lines "Ah, brother Vladium! I wondered when you'd finally show up to .... visit."
At the end, she was not bitten, but suddenly she was a vampire too. It needs a little more explanation to clarify.
I loved the second posting. Describing high school as a royal court of vampires was great! Although I agree with A. Tross, that it didn't seem related to the first posting. So I'd say you have two novels going on here. The only way I can think of to tie both postings together, is to make her a vampire and have her attending some Royal School For Vampires (kinda like Harry Potter).
07-16-2009 01:21 PM
I have a lot more to post, and in like two or three later, it explains a LOT! And I also have this up in Teen Reads, and someone wanted me to rewrite the first two paragraphs on the first proglouge and add more detail to the dream--so that's really what was goin on with that And I'll put more on soon and then I'm goin out of town for this party thing and then I'll post more!!
Good questions by the way, never thought of that!
07-16-2009 01:26 PM
Here you go! the post after this one well explain a lot more about some things!
Conner Scheels was the only guy I’ve ever really had a crush on here, the living hell. Yeah, it was a stupid concept, but every seventeen girl has them, right? I sorta liked him because I thought he understood me—in all of his quiet, mysteriousness, I was pretty sure we were the same…in a way.
“Class,” the teacher, Mr. Bong, boomed to us. “Our class trip is next week, I hope you all remembered?” there were many woops and yelps throughout the class, and Bong smiled. “Good, you’re all excited.”
I yawned again, science was always a bore. I never did understand the concept of this class. “It’s important to the child’s growing mind,” the teacher had told us at the beginning of the year. I just nodded at him, giving him my best smile, and moved on.
“Well,” Bong said, in his ‘too loud of voice’.“School well be ending in a few—"He’s interrupted by the bell, and I burst from my desk, wanted so bad to get away from this building. I quickly left the room, not staying back to listen to Mr. Bong’s assignment.
I gathered my things quickly at my locker, and was off to the parking lot. Thank God.When I stepped onto the asphalt, my skin automatically felt the difference in temperature. The sun beat down on me, warming my cool skin. Since I was forever cold, I crave the heat.
I looked up at the sun as I pulled my aviators over my eyes, smiling as I felt my pupils dilate against the change in brightness.I looked across the lot, to where I poor car sits, awaiting my arrival.
The black mustang glittered in the sun, and I only knew that it’d be too hot in there with all the heat, so this morning I had my windows rolled down so the breeze could cool it.
I have my limits.
I turned around, and glanced at the school, so glad that it was a Friday, and I didn’t have to endure that dreadful place for two more days. Unless, you know, it spontaneously bust into flames.
Now that would be interesting.
I had finally reached my car, I ran my index finger over the hood, just wishing to be behind the wheel, and zooming off, and away. I unlocked the door, and jumped in.Even after I closed the door, the heat from the afternoon sun lingered on my skin. I sighed as I rolled all the windows up, except for one. I turned the car on, and rolled out of the parking lot.I sped down the road, and headed toward my other internal doom.
St. Drake academy.
07-16-2009 01:34 PM
and here is even more this part is the first time she explains everything and is it the first time you find out her name? hmm
well here ya go!
You know, on a day like today, when do people have the mind—to egg you car? I don’t know, maybe the immature students that park their cars in the student parking lot, too. Just like my friend Mathew did to me.
“Okay,” I say, as I walk past him entering the school. “If my car isn’t clean by the time I’m done here—your face, well be driven into the cement, forever to be walked on and seen by walkers. And their dogs.”
He just gave me that stupid smile he has, and picked up a bucket and sponge. “Already on it boss,” he raised the bucket to me, and he ran down to my car. I smiled, and was shaking my head as I entered St. Drake.
Mathew, just like most of my friends here, comes from big families. But Mat, well he has three brothers—their all named Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John. I know this is a religious group of Harks here, but seriously?
I turn the corner, and as I walk down the hall, but this time, I’m greeted by hellos, how’s it going, and lookin’ great Jenna. I just smile, and nod at them. This time, though, as I walk these halls—there are no ‘wizards’ or ‘princesses’, there’s vampires. The good kind, I may add, the Hark vampires. Well, there are two types of vampires—the Harks, and the Imps. Imp is really just a nice term for them, since Imp is another name for demon. Us, the Harks, are supposedly descendants of Angles, we are granted with abilities the Imps don’t have. Like our eyes don’t glow in the dark, unless we’re using our 'abilities', but not everyone has those. Or, if we’re drinking blood, which we do not lust after, but, occasionally drink.
And the Imps, they’re the descendants of the devil, demons from Hell itself. I’ve killed my fare share of Imps in my time, one of the reasons I’m famous here. But, someday, I want to kill a Demi-demon. An Imp gone wrong, almost twice the power of a normal Imp. They’re also much bigger, they look like any Imp, but when they turn the power on, they become even uglier. Yuck.
You see, I was never always a Hark. That day, nine years ago, that day changed my life. After I was saved, and learned of my savior, they thought that I was the perfect human to join. So—they changed me, and I couldn’t have been happier as a Hark. The change didn’t even hurt, I have no idea what they did, but since I didn’t have anything else to live for, I didn’t mind.
“Jenna!” a male voice sounded somewhere in front of me. I look around, and find Otis. I smile as he approaches, his brown hair shining, his blue eyes looking into mine. This was the man who saved me all those years ago. Okay, so he was, like eight or nine years older, but he was still so hot. The only other guy I’ve ever had a crush on.
I think I might be becoming a slut.
“Hello Otis!” I say, a little too happily. I clear my throat, and try to gather composure.
“Hello, are you going out tonight?” I smiled, but he continued. “Because, if you’re going on a mission, I want to tell you not to head toward East Street, or anywhere near there, okay?” I know I must have looked happy, but I sorta felt turned down—and no one turns Jenna Fell down…well, at least not here. Even if he didn’t plan on asking me out, it stills sorta hurt.
I saluted him, “Aye, sir, I’m just going out to catch some Imps tonight, its all good,” I give him my best smile, and his lip just twitched.
Well, at least I got something, right?
“Good,” he sidestepped me, and continued down the hall.
“Hey,” I yell after him. “What’s wrong with East Street?”
“Um,” he almost looked uncomfortable in his designer clothes. “There might me a Demi-demon down there—and you’re not ready for it. I’m sending a crew in there tonight, I don’t want to see you there Jenna.”
I laughed, “You are such a worry wart,” I playfully slap his arm, and continue down to my class room, mumbling “Like hell I’m not ready.”
07-16-2009 05:33 PM
Hi Cha-Cha! So THAT'S what you had in mind. Fun and interesting!
The juxtaposition between the "real" high school, and the Vampire School is great. One staid and boring. The other interesting and challenging. (I guess most students would rather be chasing bad vampires than writing essays.)
I'm just curious if she is a student or an instructor at St. Drake's? And I'd love to see you expand on St. Drake's "extracurricular activities", like chasing the demi-demon. As well as describe her "uniquely vampire classes". (Neck Wounds 101? Just kidding ...) And why is it named St. Drake's? After who? And what is the "authority" that the instructors have to go chasing demi-demons?
You've got an intriguing story going on here. And now that you've clarified how both original parts fit together, your story has breadth and depth.
07-17-2009 12:41 AM
i totally luv your ideas and i well add to the St. Drake's thing, like what they do there and who this St. Drake is! I'm on my aunts computer right now so i can't post much, but once i make it home i well soo put more up!
thanks for reading!!
07-17-2009 01:59 PM
ok, this is the rest of what i have while i'm at my aunt's. this is like a mission she gets from her vamp school. so anyway, here it is!
I sheath my sword, and step over the body. I wipe my arm across my forehead, and sit down right on the big belly of the Imp. I pull out my cell, and text Mathew that I killed another. My seventh that night.
There was so many lately.
I look down at my out fit, now stained with blood. It was leather shorts, and a black cami, of course it showed my belly. I have a nice belly. I had many straps across my chest, to carry small weapons more easily. I look down at the Imp, and notice his bottle. My mouth was dry.I take a swig of the demon’s bottle, to find that it was blood—not very fresh, though.
At Drake, we weren’t allowed to have blood on grounds, but outside of it, we were. But if we were to get to drunk off of its power, the cops could stop us― not at all knowing that they were vampires drunk on blood.
I look down at the bottle, and take another drink. But, too bad for me, I live with a group of humans, so stupid that I have to remind them that they have a dog― and, yes, it does need you to feed it.
My aunt’s family—her husband, and their two children, oh, and you can’t forget their dog, Sparky. And since they’re so strict, they monitor whatever we do in that house—and that includes drinks. So, no blood for me. Unless I decide to go out, this rarely happens.
My phone buzzes, and I take it out, still drinking the bottle.
You’re on a role, Jen. How many more do you have? The text said.
I tell him that I still have a couple to go, and that’ll I’ll see him tomorrow. I put my phone away, and finish of the bottle of blood. I can feel the power surge through me as I stood, since blood has the power to give Harks strength, and power—and only gives Imps the ability to recharge, and stay longer in the sun. Before it starts to turn black, and then later on, fizzle away.
I turn back to the Imp, pull out my angel blade, and plunge it through his chest. His body jerked once, before disappearing in a cloud of dust. I put the angel blade back in my belt, and head down the road, always staying in the shadows. Always aware of my surroundings.
About five minutes into the city, I start to hear a conversation.
“Do you realize,” I heard a voice say, I squished myself closer to the wall, it was hard, and mean. I don’t like to tamper with human affairs, they bore me.
“No, Roy, I don’t realize―”
“Do you realize that the Imp style of life is in danger, because of you?” I stopped. Imp? So these guys weren’t just normal humans, I jump in an alley, eavesdropping.
Oh how good I am at that.
“I― I don’t know what you’re talking about,” it was a boy, maybe my age; he was cornered by two other guys. Who were definitely Imps—they looked like humans, but with trained eyes, you can see their through their glamour, and how their skin is almost translucent. But the boy, he looked completely normal; he might even be a Hark.
“Don’t give us crap, Cabe, you know perfectly well what we’re talking about,” the biggest one spat at him, I almost jumped out right there. They had their hand on their knives, and were ready to pull them out at him.
“Yeah,” the small one hissed. “Your daddy doesn’t want you to―”
“My father has nothing to do with this!” the boy bellowed. How could a scrawny kid like him have the courage to yell at two grown Imps?They took their knives out, and I stood, ready for action. I knew these guys could take me down—together, but if I could just kill one, the other shouldn’t be that hard.
“Okay,” the boy, Cabe, said, backing up. “I don’t want you guys to get―”
“Shut up boy, you know how the master wants your skin, now―”I jumped, tackling the big one to the ground, I could hear both hiss.
“Get!” I told the boy, who looked petrified, “GO!” I yelled, and he finally ran.The big one jumped from my grip, and then I was the one who was cornered. The big one’s fangs seemed awfully large for an Imp—and then I knew.
He was a Demi-demon.
I look around for a street sign, and see that it’s East Street.
“Okay, little Hark,” the demon growled, his eyes growing black. “Who do you think you are, bardging in on our lil’ meeting?”I smile darkly at him; we were circling each other, the other Imp watching curiously on the side line.
His face grew, his features stretching on his bones. His teeth resembled a tiger’s, big and bunchy, and were dripping in poison.
“You,” I say, taking a small step forward, knowing he didn’t notice, “Are just a filthy little―” and then I jumped, and catching him off guard, my angel blade straight out. He catches my wrist, and starts to swing me. I fly through the air, and hit the wall hard. I fall, and lose my blade.It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, but it was too late, because he was already there, choking the life out of me.
With my angel blade on the ground, all I had was the power of blood on my hands.My eyes start to glow, and the Imp doesn’t notice—idiot. My fangs slowly lengthen, not as long as an Imp’s, but long enough. I bit into the big hands. It hurt to bend like that, but it was all worth it because the poison had already started to seep into his blood stream.
Harks can turn into Imps, but not the other way around, so I had to be extra careful out on missions. My vision started to grey, and the something changed in his eyes. He yelps and drops me to the ground; I take a deep breath, and grab my blade.While he was confused, I jump for him, digging the knife deep into his side. He froze—his whole body probably numb. I jammed it farther, hearing ribs crack, he staggered, and I yanked the knife from his side.He fell, and I watched his body turn to dust. I put the angel blade away, and took the sword out at I turned. The smaller of the two dogged my attack, pulling it down. As I fell forward with it, his knee hit me under the chin, and I blacked out.
07-18-2009 10:53 AM
Thanks for the recent excerpt. A little rough in spots, but you've definitely got an interesting story here! And the momentum you get going make it a real page-turner, as they say. I have a few comments, if you don't mind:
1) I'd love to see more description of her sword and "angel blade". They would have to fit her personally, and have special attributes to kill the bad vamps. Where did she get them? Were they special-made for her? Or are they cherished hand-me-downs? Maybe one was handed down from an imp that later turned into a demi-demon. So it glows or something when it gets close to an imp, and she has to fight extra hard for it to kill a demi-demon.
2) You need to distinguish your story from other similar stories, like "Buffy". The link to the vampire school is probably the way to go, I'd think. Tie in the bad-vamp killings to the school, somehow.
Does she get "extra credit"? Is she enrolled in a "Work Program", where she attends school half a day, and kills bad-vamps "for credit" the rest of the day or evening? Maybe she has to go back to St. Drake's the next day and receive a "critique" after each killing. Maybe she has a plaque on the school walls, where each bad-vamp she kills results in another dripping-blood icon on the plaque.
3) I know this is a rough draft, but you need to watch the grammar. Your verb tenses go from present to past in places. And your pronouns vary from "us" to "they". Picky, I know, but these little things are what give professional editors grey hair.
07-22-2009 05:09 PM
Thanks for the comments, and I totally forgot to dicribe what the angel blade is in there, but i might as well tell you that it's a special weopon that each senior at Drake's gets at the begining of the year, and it's specially made to get rid off Imps and all that. Sorry for the confusion! And I still have a whole bunch that i haven't put up yet, and once I find my flash drive I'll put it up haha.
You said something about Buffy? I don't know what that is, if it's a book, i guess its one i haven't read yet which is weird for me. And agian, I have some more that I'll put up that'll clear some stuff up for ya, haha!
And, omg, I seriously know that my grammar is bad! I try as much as i can, but there's a limit that i can do as a fourteen year old--if that makes me sound dumb, I'm not
Thanks for the help!
07-22-2009 09:19 PM
here's A LOT more aha, so I hope you like it!
“Hey,” I heard a voice through the blackness, I pushed the voice away. “Hey, are you okay?”
I blinked, and looked up into two grey eyes, and long dark, blonde hair. His face was blurry, but I remembered that face from some place. I remembered this place, wait, where was I?
I shot up, and pain burst through my head. I gripped at it, as I stood. I looked around. And all I saw was that boy, and no one else. I looked him up and down, he was taller than me, muscular, he had strong face, but with a soft look to it.
I looked around again.“Damn,” I said, bending and picking up my sword. “He got away.”
“You actually killed him, Bruno.” The boy said, looking at me with admiring eyes.
“Well, it was actually easy—hey, how do you know his name?”He opened his mouth, but I covered it with my hand, hearing something coming up the street.I turned to Cabe,
“How long was I out?”He mumbled something, and I let go of his mouth.
“About two minutes,” he said, holding up two fingers.
“Damn it all! Otis is going to kill me if he sees me here,” I whispered angrily, I grab the boy’s wrist, and start running. “You’re coming with me, hurry up.”He followed willingly, like a lost puppy. I didn’t dare look back, for Otis and his troop might have already gotten there, and found the remains of the Demi-demon. I dropped Cabe’s wrist, and started faster, he surprised me by matching my pace.
We ran for fifteen minutes straight, my lungs, usually good for a run like this, felt like they were on fire. And then we finally got to Fire Drive, and we slowed. Cabe stayed with me, for no reason I knew of. I looked down at my outfit, and realized I was still wearing my mission outfit, and my car was still in the academy drive. I roared out in anger, and sat down on the curb.
“What is it?” Cabe asked, standing before me.
I glared up at him; it was practically his fault that this happened. He had to go get a Demi-demon all pissed off. He just had to go and be helpless, so that I, a good soul (ha), have to help him.
“You know what?” I say, standing up, and looking Cabe in the eyes. Even if he was almost a head taller than me.He looked at me, looking like he forgot I was there. Great, I rescued a crazy.
“What?” he asked, looking genuinely happy that I didn’t look as pissed. Oh boy was I though.
I looked him up and down—he seemed fit, he wasn’t breathing heavy from the run, weird, maybe he wasn’t helpless after all. I held my hand out. “Give me your sweatshirt.”He gave it to me without hesitation, and I took off my weapon straps, letting them fall to the ground. I pulled on his sweatshirt, waiting to be bombarded with cologne, but got a sweet smell, instead. I sniffed at it, without realizing it, and mentally slapped myself.
I looked at myself, the cami was just fine with the sweatshirt, but I’ll have to make up a story about the shorts. I picked up the weapons straps, and handed them to him.“Hold these,” and when he took them, I grabbed him by the shirt, and started to pull him. He didn’t argue, just followed, and I wondered if he was mentally handicapped. Well, he obviously didn’t look it—he was, actually, pretty cute.
Wait, did I just think that?
Okay, something in that sweet smell must be going to my head. I smelled it again, the fragrance filling my head. I shook those thoughts from my mind, and fixed it on getting him into my room, to have a talk about this ‘Bruno’.
Once we were behind my house, I let go of his shirt, not caring that I stretched it, and looked into my bedroom window, seeing that it was still in its military cleanliness.I turn toward Cabe, he was looking up at the house, with a look so sad, it almost hurt me. Me! The soulless person! Wait, but I was the good soul who helped him? Whatever! I’m still soulless. He just looked so vulnerable, and helpless― even if his biceps were huge.
“Okay, you stay out here for a few minutes, hidden, and then I’ll let you through my window, got it?” I was using my ‘if you mess this up, I’ll kill you’ voice, and it seemed to be working. He looked at me, and smiled, that sad boy I saw was gone. He almost looked as if he was going to make a joke out of what I had just said—I would have.
“Okay, I’ll be back,” and I started back around the house, to the front door. I knew for certain that Cabe would stay there—he’ll want his sweatshirt back.Once I reached the door, I made sure all my hair was still in the ponytail, other than the bangs, of course. I drew in a breath, and prepared myself for my third internal doom of the day.
07-25-2009 11:52 AM
Hi Cha-Cha! Been busy with work and errands, but I finally got a chance to sit down and read your latest excerpt.
Also, I was referring to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer", a TV series that is no longer in production. But if you stick with the Vampire School angle, I don't think anyone would think of it as derivative of "Buffy".
Overall, your excerpt is fun and interesting. You have a breezy style that doesn't bog a reader down. And you seem adept at mixing-genres, like your vampire/adventure/romance story you've got going.
However, I'd say that you need to clarify some things, like why Cabe is there when she wakes up. Isn't he her crush from the real high school? Or is he tied into St. Drake's too?
I'd also suggest you tighten it up in places, and maybe eliminate some of the unnecessary description. (Most new writers start out this way, writing in a straightline of what's going on. More seasoned writers know how to jump from highpoint to highpoint, with only enough description to clarify each highpoint.)
I'd stop after "...he surprised me by matching my pace." The Next Chapter could start with "Once we were behind my house..." If you still want to keep tidbits from the eliminated middle, squeeze them into the remaining parts.
Just ideas. Hope it helps! You're a pretty good writer for fourteen. You should have a polished novel ready to publish by the time you graduate!
07-26-2009 10:48 PM
07-26-2009 11:02 PM
“I’M HOME!” I bellow, my words drifting carelessly through the house. I kick my shoes off, and hear the normal argument going on in the kitchen. My aunt Lou and her newest husband, Doug, always quarrel after dinner, he always brings up the most sensitive topic—me.
“She’s my niece! She’s family!” my aunt yelled, I stopped right outside the door of the kitchen, eavesdropping.
“She’s a nuisance, always coming home late, never having family time,” I could hear he was licking his lips, what he did when he was mad, making it look like he was angrily licking at his mustache. He continued, “I don’t want her poisoning our children’s minds, she’s going to get in trouble one day—and get out of it like she always does—and then show Allison, and Freddy. I don’t want those kids growing up like little gang leaders, like her―”
“How dare you call her that!” Lou screamed, I mentally cheered for her in my head. ‘Yeah, go Aunt Lou!’
He licked his lips again, “Well, I’ll be talking with her when she gets home, are there any other family members’ lives she can destroy? Any uncles? No? Well then her damn parents shouldn’t have been stupid enough to let a stranger in that house―”
“You know well enough that that wasn’t a stranger,” Lou growled.
“No I don’t Lou—no one does, you don't either, they were idiots, they disserved that death,” he stuttered with his next words. “And I want that child to learn, or she’s gonna end up eight feet in the ground. Just. Like. Them.”
I closed my mouth, when it had dropped open. I pushed the door open with force, letting in slam against the wall behind it. They both jumped out of their seats, obviously not expecting this. I pretended that I didn’t want to interrupt them.
“Oh, my bad, I am so sorry for interrupting this important conversation,” I walked over to the fridge, and opened it. “Just wanted some—pudding, there!” I turned to them, showing the small cup. “Got it.”
“Jenna, I―” Lou said, stepping forward.
“No, no, I can open this myself, don’t worry,” I slammed the door to the fridge, making both of them jump. I took a spoon out of the drawer, and slammed that too.
I walked over to the door, and turned to Doug. I cleared my throat, “I, Jenna Finn, hear by declare myself as only a hoodlum, and a notty, notty teenager,” I put my hand to my heart, stimulating fake tears. “But I, Jenna Finn, am no gangster, I may put off as one― with my stylish clothes, and amazingness― but I am a mere hoodlum, nothing more.” I held a hand up as they began talking, I glare at Doug. “And you sir, excuses my French, are a GOD FORSAKEN JERK, WHO IS TOTALLY A BITCH FOR SAY MY PARENTS F-ING DISSERVED TO DIE!” my voice must of carried to the rooms, because Fredrick’s’ music stopped.
I smiled at their blank faces, “I think that we’re done here,” and I let the door swing close, blocking our view of each other.
07-27-2009 01:16 PM
Just read your latest excerpt. Pretty good, but (as usual) I have a few suggestions to help you make it better.
1) If your heroine was eavesdropping outside the kitchen, and had no actual view of the pair, how did she know her Uncle was licking his lips/mustache?
2) Since this is an apparently everyday kind of arguement, that your heroine has heard countless times before, I'd condense it to just the basic elements, and move on.
3) Maybe she could be mentally thinking of humorous come-backs to this always-the-same arguement between her Aunt and Uncle. Something like "Like my step siblings aren't already little gang leaders? Where do they think darling little Freddy gets all his pocket change? He's been selling my Aunt's prescription pills at school for over a year! And that homemade tattoo their precious little Allison has? The crowd she runs with are practically demi-demons themselves!"
4) Like I said, I'd condense the excerpt, and get on to the good stuff. Like this mysterious Cabe waiting at her back window.
Hope this helps!
07-27-2009 09:41 PM
HAHA! I love your suggestions for the come backs, they're awesome! And I well so be adding some to it. And as for the licking the mustache thing, she has super hearing so I guess that would be a reason And, if what you're saying about getting back to the basic elements means to the main story, I guess I just wanted to put some of what her family is about in there, so yeah...
I love your comments and suggestions, thanks!!
07-27-2009 09:42 PM
I jump out of bed, and to the window. I open the blinds to see him rubbing Sparky’s belly. I open the window, and whisper his name, trying to get his attention. I was not in a good mood, and this guy was not helping.
I look around my room, and spot my dead flowers in their vase. I go over, and dig through to the bottom for one of those colorful, fake rocks. I chuck it at Cabe.
“Ow!” he whispers, his hand going to the back of his head. He turns around to look at me, and smiles. “I thought it was my job to throw rocks at your window, not you throwing them out.”
My smile was forced, “If you don’t get in here now, I’ll find a boulder to throw at you.”
He nods, and rubs Sparky’s belly once more before walking to my window. Since it was on the ground floor, it was easier for him to crawl in. and I had put a foot stool down there, for when I escape to do missions for Drake.
"Okay,” I said to him, heading toward my door. “I’m going to get the phone, I’ll be right―”
“Jenna,” Fredrick’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. I pushed Cabe, and he hit the floor with a big boom, knocking books off my bed side table. I open the door to see Freddy brushing his teeth.
“What?” I snap.
He shrugged, “Mom jus wante to know ifs yous okay?” his words slurring around the tooth brush, and tooth paste.
“I’m not mad at her, oh!” I grab a card off my bed; catching a glimpse of Cabe—he looked really uncomfortable. I handed the card the Freddy, “Okay Freddy, tell Doug that this was for his birthday, but he can have it now.”
He ripped it from my grip, “My name’s Fred, gots that?” he was starting to drool, so I closed my door, nodding at him.
I turn around after locking my door, just as Cabe started to sit up, books falling off of his chest and face. He had a red mark on his forehead, and I realized that my statue of an angel had fallen too. And now, he was bleeding all over my carpet.
“Damn,” I mumbled, jumping for him. He was standing when I reached him; I laid him down on the bed, again without any conflict, and went to get a Band-Aid in my desk.
Once I had one in my hand, I went over to him, and dapped at him with a Kleenex. I leaned over him, checking the wound, and noticed he was staring at me.
“What?” I ask, wiping the blood from his forehead, almost wanting to take some of it for myself, but it was like wanting a cupcake—you can force yourself not to eat it. “I have nothing else to look at, do I?” he asked, giving me a smile, still staring.
“Yeah, okay,” I turn around to through the Kleenex away, making sure I pulled my cami up.
“Hey,” he said, as I stuck a Band-aid on his forehead. “What’s you name? That boy said it was Jen, or something?”
“Jenna,” I told him, crawling off my bed, using his arm on accident, again, noticing how nice the muscles were. I quickly let go, and end up sitting in my desk chair. “And you’re Cabe, I heard the Imps talking.”
He nodded, and sat up. “Yeah, and you’re a Hark, I heard them too.” He smiled at me, what was he planning? He looked like he had an inside joke he was laughing at. “Yeah, and what are you?” I looked closer at him, he looked normal to me. “You can’t be an Imp, are you a Hark?”
He shrugged, “I guess, sorta― I guess you can say I’m a fallen angel,” he gave me that smile again, and I thought that he sure looked like an angel, with blonde hair, and grey eyes—he was cute.
“I don’t get it, and I don’t think I well,” I stood up, walked over to my shelf. “Hungry?”
“Yeah, I am actually,” he shifted to look at me, again with those eyes. But he wouldn’t be looking at me like that if he didn’t know this was an interrogation.
I tossed him the pudding and the spoon, “Here, have this.”
He caught it, and I sighed—I kinda wanted to eat that, and I don’t want to scare Doug anymore tonight. I took my ponytail out, my hair falling to my waist. I looked into the mirror, and started to brush through my pin straight hair, and noticed my blue eyes looked seriously tired.
I went back to the chair, and waited until he finished the cup, and thrown it away. He turned to me, and just waited.
“Okay,” he said. “Get it over with, what do you wanna know?”
I laugh, “Well, you aren’t mentally handicap are you? You’re actually smart, huh?” he didn’t say anything, the smile gone from his face. “Okay, well, why were you there in the first place?”
He sighed, and put his elbow on his knee, his chin on his hand. “I lived around there, and I was walking home.”
I scratched my chin, “Well, I guess I’ll have to check that out tomorrow. Anywho, how did you know those guys?”
I saw his eyes twitch, “Well, they used to work for my dad, and then he found out what they were—and he fired them.”
I leaned forward, “Didn’t you say that your dad ‘had noting to with this’?” I cocked my head to the side, “And how is it your fault that the Imp style of life is in danger?” He flopped back on my bed, and let out a big breath, “Well, he had to do with the whole thing, and he fired them because—because he didn’t want me to get hurt by them.”
“And how is that ruining the Imps?”
“Well, they had this whole big plot—to, like, take over his company, apparently.” I nodded, and thought this over. I’ll have to talk to the Crew about this. I stand up, and walk out of the room. Down the hall, I could here the music from my card playing and nothing else but silence. I take the phone out of the holder, and head back to my room.
“Okay, I’m gonna call some people,” I dial Mirrea’s number. Mirrea used to be Mirria, but she didn’t like when people thought her name was Mariah. So she changed it when she moved out of her parents’ house.
“Who the hell is this?” I heard her say, she sounded like she just woke up. I laughed at her, “This is Jenna, and I want you to call the rest of the Crew, and tell them to meet us at the bridge, got it?”
“Already on it, but why so late?” she asked.
I look over at the clock, “It’s only about ten, Mirr, you just went to bed early.” I heard her snort, and I continued. “Well, I have this boy―”
“Really!? Is he cute―”
“Okay, okay stop it! This is business.” I look over at Cabe, and he was looking at the pictures of the Crew and me on my shelf.
“Fine, see ya in ten.” And then the phone clicked off.
“Okay,” I say, opening the window. “Let’s go.”
And, again, no argument.
07-28-2009 12:57 PM - edited 07-28-2009 12:59 PM
Very nice new excerpt! You've got some great momentum going, moving the plot along with only a minimum of necessary description.
And this scene with Cabe even has some humor. From Freddie mumbling thru his toothpaste, to Cabe on the floor under books, and getting a cut from her angel statue. (I'd add a funny side-thought like: "Well, the angel statue didn't flame and burn up. So I guess Cabe can't be a demi-demon. And his blood's red and not green. Good things to know if you have an unknown guy in your bedroom.")
I'd also like a little more clarification on who "Sparky" is. And that the "card" is a music card for an I-Pod, or whatever. (You said it was for Doug. Her step-father?)
Good Luck! And I look forward to more excerpts when you can post them.