• Welcome to BookAndReader!

    We LOVE books and hope you'll join us in sharing your favorites and experiences along with your love of reading with our community. Registering for our site is free and easy, just CLICK HERE!

    Already a member and forgot your password? Click here.

Hi Im new(please review)

def1,

I could not read the entire story. I was physically unable.

While I admire your confidence in your grammAr, and spelling, I shake my head ruefully at your refusal to accept input on these matters.

The "tempo" or "pace" of the story is herky-jerky, at best, and difficult to read. Not sure how to tell you to fix this, but it should flow better.

You use phrases like "the door slams open" (never heard a door slam open before), and "whopping 33 stories" and other cliche, confusing, and/or inappropriate descriptions. I think you could find more original, more powerful and meaningful words to describe things. You also mention "walls filled with blood". Do you mean that if I were to poke my finger through the drywall, blood would squirt out? That is what "full of" implies (at least to me). You might want to rephrase that.

If I were me (which, fortunately, I am), I would go through this piece and simplify, smooth, and rewrite.

or not.
 
thanks also about grammar the reason I didnt care for remarks about that is because that isnt a matter to me at the moment. Im more interested in content. I understand what you're saying about the flow, right now it is basicly a brainstorm considering Im making it up as I go. When it is finished I will rewrite the whole thing to make it flow easier. I hope that makes sense.

Crystal I dont know if i want to buy a story line. Although your's plot sounds good my story is intended for a similar route yet different in some aspects. Maybe i am misunderstanding you're ideas, please re-write them with more detail. Although I most likely will not buy anything even if it was quentin tarantino offering it.
 
here is last part that I started on, I personally think its the best part as well...

February 15th, 1991
9:30 a.m. Val is still with me in my house. She seems to recall nothing of the event that, I thought, happened last night. I turned on the television and saw that there was another murder. I kept watching in anticipation to see who it was. I needed to know if this murder was once again related to what was happening to me. Indeed I was right. It was the house that I had been staring at in my vision. The girl that was murdered was not recognizable though. Although her face brought upon an eerie feeling I had no memory of her ever being in one of my dreams. It seems that along with the girl a cop was also murdered. The cop seemed to be in serious condition but managed to live when they reached the scene, but died on the way to the hospital due to blood loss. The girl on the other hand was long dead when cops had gotten word about the incident. The pictures were horrific. Whoever did it had gouged out her eyes with what cops believe was a drill. She also had multiple wounds where she had been stabbed most noticeable was her stomach, and gash on her neck that officers stated was 5 inches long and about 2 inches deep. Detectives believe she was tortured before she was killed. The news reporters were interviewing family members who could barely speak without choking up. The most frightening thing out of all was when they interviewed the officer’s son. At first I couldn’t get a distinguishable look at him, but when I finally did I must of jumped back 10 feet. It happened to be the little boy that was showing up in all my visions and dreams. His eyes felt like they were staring straight at me. His words and sobs hurt me so bad I couldn’t help but feel every time he spoke his words pierced through my heart. For some reason I couldn’t help but feel this had something to do with me. Something I could’ve helped with or something I could’ve prevented. When Val noticed how shocked and disturbed I looked, I calmly told her everything was fine because I didn’t want to worry her. 10 p.m. Well the rest of the day seemed to roll along just fine. Val being with me all the time brings me a sense of safety. Once again I was off to bed though, the part of the day I dread the most. This is the time all these sadistic and disturbing images come to me. 1:45 As I was lying down I just couldn’t sleep, so I went to get a glass of water. The window was open and it seemed to be very windy outside, and as I went to go close the window the breeze had brought in a newspaper from outside. At the time I didn’t think anything of it and went to throw it away. I couldn’t help to look inside it being the curious person I am. I opened up to the first page and landed on the obituaries page and saw the words in bold print “DEATH NOTICE”. The words seemed to melt off the page and as I followed the path of the letters I stumbled upon the pictures of the cop and the two girls that had recently been murdered. I couldn’t look away from them and as I was staring all the pictures had started moving and the people started sobbing uncontrollably. Then a fire had come over the newspaper and it burnt to ashes in seconds. I fell to the ground from which I was standing on and cried. It was horrible seeing all those faces. I started to see the faces again all over the walls, so I closed my eyes to try and shut them out which was a mistake because whenever I did that I kept seeing the little boy crying. I didn’t know what to do. I kept crying until what seemed like 3 hours and all the faces had disappeared.
February 16th, 1991
When I woke in the morning I heard Val screaming and ran to find her. She was in the bathroom in the tub. I screamed for her to stop! She had a razor and was slicing at her face. I ran to the tub, which is surrounded by glass, that I couldn’t get open, and when I tried to kick it, it wouldn’t break. I kept trying and watched in horror as one of my best friends was tearing off her face. She would slice herself with the razor and begin pulling the skin off. I couldn’t help in any way and all I was capable of doing was screaming for her to stop. I kept struggling to get the door open and stop her. She kept screaming as if she was being forced. She was totally dismantling her face. She had completely cut off her nose. I didn’t know how to stop her. It was too much and I couldn’t help but vomit. She kept at it and didn’t stop. I kept screaming and then woke up. It was just a nightmare and I couldn’t even find the courage to retell it. 9:30 I decided to call up Isaac since I felt bad about the last time and hoped to apologize. He didn’t answer his phone, which was awkward because he always carries around his cell, so I decided to stop on by and hope to catch him at home. When I got there I saw his car so I knew he was there. When he wouldn’t answer the door I decided to just walk in. The first thing I noticed was the blood on the floor. I followed the trail until I reached his bedroom. I ran inside and found my best friend with his wrists slit and a bottle of Clorox beside him. I ran to his side but he had been long dead. I felt his hand and it was extremely cold and sent shivers down my spine. My hands were full of blood and that’s when Val walked in. She had been waiting in the car and got down to see what was going on. She seemed so shocked and so was I. This was our friend since middle school and now he was dead. Val couldn’t take it and ran to the car weeping. When I got up to leave I gave Isaac my last respects. I thought it was best to clean off my hands in the bathroom. When I was done I looked in the mirror and for a brief moment saw the man surrounded by darkness. I knew he had something to do with this and I needed to know why! I called for him to appear and screamed out how cowardly I thought he was! He finally did appear. “You are right, I did have a hand in this, but don’t forget so did you!” the man surrounded by darkness proclaimed. Out of frustration, hate, and confusion I broke the mirror with my fist. Which left me with a nice big scar. I went to the car where Val was screaming and crying. I wanted to comfort here but I as well needed the same comfort. I drove us home. Val more then ever wanted to stay with me, and I too wanted her to stay. She was all that was left for me and I was all that was left for her. 11:11 p.m. I made a wish for this to end, and now I am off to sleep. 12:45 a.m. I had a horrible dream and can’t bother even thinking of sleeping. I was trapped inside this room that seemed to be a torture chamber. There were rats scurrying across the floor and chains on the walls. I myself was chained up and couldn’t move. Then what seemed like a thousand roaches came from out of the walls and tunnels and ran towards me along with the rats. I was covered in roaches and getting bit by the rats. I was screaming in agony and pain. Roaches were crawling in my mouth and eyes. I woke up screaming and seemed to have also awoken Val. After she spent some time comforting me I let her believe I fell asleep because I didn’t want to keep her awake.
February 17th, 1991
After looking through old memory books and yearbooks Val and me started watching all the movies that we would watch with Isaac. We started off with Mallrats and ended with A Clockwork Orange. When we were little we always said whenever one of us died to throw together a toast in that persons name. So out of respect we did and we lit up the living room with candles and champagne. Time seemed to have sleeped by unnoticed because It was already 10:30 p.m. We decided to go to sleep. Today was great and nothing bad happened! 1:45 I spoke to soon earlier because I had the most sickening dream. I was at Isaac’s and witnessed his whole death. He was screaming at how awful I was and how ashamed I should be. His words felt like daggers digging into my heart and ripping it up. I was sure he was talking about what I had said about the girl and I couldn’t help but feel completely at fault and horrible. When he pulled out the razor I ran after him to stop him but something was holding me back. I screamed for him to stop but he wasn’t going to listen. He kept slicing his wrists and then he drank the Clorox. He screamed in terrible pain and screamed that it was my fault! I woke up in sweat and tears.
February 18th, 1991
 
leckert said:
You also mention "walls filled with blood". Do you mean that if I were to poke my finger through the drywall, blood would squirt out? That is what "full of" implies (at least to me).
Click to expand...
Are these the same walls haunting my imaginary world? I also noticed a bunch of strange cliches and confusing sentences throughout this piece. "She was in the bathroom in the tub." Honestly, my tub is in the kitchen. :cool:
 
so basicly my novel isnt worth reading, well alright I guess. I was just hoping for advice.
 
I have read a few badly written posts here, and provided comments, and had the writer reply with "well, this is just a rough draft" or "I just jotted this down..." or some other excuse.

I, personally, don't care to sift through a bunch of agonizing cliches and confusing metaphores and spend my time posting well-thought out and concise comments to a piece of work that is a "brainstorm".

If this is your final draft, then I would strongly recommend a rewrite.

If this is a brainstorm, then clean it up and re-post it.

Also, to address Stewart's comment, when you post something, you should consider how "appetizing" it is to the reader.

A 10" square block of letters with no white space is not very inviting!

Just my humble (but accurate) opinion! :)
 
leckert said:
I have read a few badly written posts here, and provided comments, and had the writer reply with "well, this is just a rough draft" or "I just jotted this down..." or some other excuse.

I, personally, don't care to sift through a bunch of agonizing cliches and confusing metaphores and spend my time posting well-thought out and concise comments to a piece of work that is a "brainstorm".

If this is your final draft, then I would strongly recommend a rewrite.

If this is a brainstorm, then clean it up and re-post it.

Also, to address Stewart's comment, when you post something, you should consider how "appetizing" it is to the reader.

A 10" square block of letters with no white space is not very inviting!

Just my humble (but accurate) opinion! :)
Click to expand...
I agree completely. With everything. Which is why I chose not to critique this particular piece. And to write in sentence fragments. Because I can.

I hate to hijack this thread, but leckert, but would you mind critiquing a story of mine? Defenestrate. When you have the time, of course... it's a somewhat long short story.
 
sirmyk said:
...And to write in sentence fragments. Because I can.
You can. You know the rules you break - And break them with style!

I will read your story this instant.

(I know, it's just a rough draft, and you are going to clean it up later, right!?) :D

(hijacker.)
Click to expand...
Click to expand...
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top