Young Writers Society

Please, don't ask me why I wrote this.
All I know is that I had Matt and Sarah Halliday in mind while I typed.
Enjoy.
(First draft, might I add)


From the corner of my eye, I saw him.
Running towards me at a heavy pace.
I turned my head and watched him.
His sneakers pounding into the asphalt.
Sweat sliding down his face.
Dripping off his chin.
His yellow sport shirt rippled across his muscular abs.
Other girls watched him too.
He was competing in the 100 metres.
And so far, he was in the lead.

Cheerleaders in small skirts cheered him on.
Their big pompom's waving around in the air.
"Go Russell, go!" They chanted.
I sneered at them in jealousy.
He was mine, and they couldn't have him.
He turned his head and winked at his fans.
I felt something inside of me break.
What did those bimbos have?
What did they have that I didn't?
A brain?
Surely not.
I'm smarter than the lot of them.
Good looks?
I may not be Angelina Jolie, but I'm not repulsive.
In fact, I've had quite a few compliments from creepy old men.
That may not be a good thing, though.

I know what the cheerleaders had.
They had a chance.
Why is it that the man that I love won't give me the time of day?
He won't give me the opportunity to hug him.
And kiss him.
And caress him.
And hold him close to me.
What am I saying?
I know exactly why.

He is my brother.







((not a poem))

Sorry, Lucy, but I didn't like this. I mean, it had some nice concepts...but the portrayal, the rhythm, the elements...na. I think you should either work harder on this piece and transform it completely or just trash it.

Here are my comments/critiques/changes in bold.

I saw him from the corner of my eye,
Running to me at a heavy pace. (At a heavy pace? That is very show-not-tell.)
DELETEI turned my head and watched him. DELETE
His sneakers pounding into DELETEtheDELETEasphalt.
Sweat sliding down his face (his chin? his neck? Face really is way too general.).
DELETEDripping off his chinDELETE.
His yellow sport shirt rippling across his DELETEmuscularDELETE abs
Other girls watched him too
Leading in the 100 meter race.

Cheerleaders in petite skirts cheered him on.
Their big pompom's waving around in the air. (WAY TOO TELL NOT SHOW!)
"Go Russell, go!" they chanted,
I sneered at them in jealousy;
He was mine, and they couldn't have him.
He turned his head and winked at his fans.
I felt something inside of me break.
What did those bimbos have?
What did they have that I didn't?
A brain?
Surely not.
I'm smarter than the lot of them.
Good looks?
I may not be Angelina Jolie, but I'm not repulsive.
In fact, I've had quite a few compliments from creepy old men.
That may not be a good thing, though.

I know what the cheerleaders had.
They had a chance.
Why is it that the man that I love won't give me the time of day?
He won't give me the opportunity to hug him.
And kiss him.
And caress him.
And hold him close to me.
What am I saying?
I know exactly why.

He is my brother.

CRITIQUE
1) This really does not fit well as a poem. Perhaps as a narrative story, comedy or drama, but as a poem it needs to be rewritten tremendously.
2) Is the sister in love with him? That is what I thought it was. I mean, you really develop this girl who is in love with the guy, but then you reveal her to be his sister? It's bizarre, not too much in a good way.
3) SHOW NOT TELL! Your whole poem is show, show, show. He did this, she did that, they waved the pompoms while he ran on the asphalt. Uh-uh. "In their hands they held rainbow puffs that twinkled and flowed through their fingers, dancing on the grass..." That's show!
4) You told this story like a story--it could have been good without the line breaks even! Instead, make it more erratic, more original. Delete "the" in some sentences, add vibrant words instead of old, overused ones. This poem (I am fighting the urge to call it a story) is really dry. Add some spices to it!

Overall, it wasn't your best. Really. Sorry about the harshness of the critique, but I feel it had a bit potential, and I don't want this writing exercise to go to waste. You should seriously just read it over and over again, until you see images and feel like you're there in the football or track game. Also, have a centerpiece to your poem. Don't describe the girls, the people, the shirts, the muscles all in the same stanza--have the poem focus on one particular image. The sturdy brother, the stars in his eyes, the girls looking at him, etc.

I'll check to see!

This piece isn't a poem. It was posted under "Romantic Fiction."

Funny.
Her brother.
Poor girl, must be confused

Oops! Sorry! I'll try to read it in a different light now.

"metres"
British!

"yellow sport shirt rippled across his muscular abs"
This is kind of cliche. Can't he be not muscular? Don't use the word rippled either, it's overused with attracive people.

"small skirts"
The adjective and the noun don't connect. Petite skirts, maybe? Or, maybe for you to show-not-tell, "Cheerleaders in skirts that ran up to their thighs cheered him on" or something like that.

"He was mine, and they couldn't have him. "
Ugh. Why would a sister say that?

"inside of me break."
You don't really need "of me"

"What did those bimbos have?
What did they have that I didn't? "
Combine those-"What did those bimbos have that I didn't?"

The last stanza is supposed to build up to "He is my brother", bu it doesn't. I did not recieve it as a shock. Maybe build up suspense with something else. Here are a few tips: flesh out your character! Describe her. Also, make sure you show us the setting, By now, you told us that the girls danced, the sweat slid off his chin. Add some visual descriptions! In this piece, it would be best to include some metaphores or similies. Another thing: Add some more information in the last stanza. Did he finish the race? That would build suspense! What place? The m ost important thing, though, is to add unseen clues throughout the piece and then, in the end, jump at the reader with "He is my brother." It's also very fun to do, as a writer.

Regardless whther it's a poem or a story. Show-Not-Tell still works the same. I think I touched on that already.

This was far better as a story than a poem. But it still isn't near to be finished. It's quite confusing--how does a girl fall in love with her brother? He never hugs her? Sorry, I just didn't understand, maybe because I am not a girl and I only have a younger sister.

Also, you have a period after every line! In the first stanza you need to have a period ONLY after "chin", and then continue wirthout periods until the end of the paragraph/stanza.

If you want to ask me something, just PM me.

On the poetry thing, I beg to differ. This is a poem. Poetry is in verse, a story is in paragraphs. It's as simple as that. But oh well, I won't argue about it or move this or anything, I suppose you can break the rules ^_~ I don't think a story works in verse, but that is just me. It should be in paragraphs, otherwise it is just strange and very broken up.

Now, I adored the ended. Incest is a subject that some write about, but no matter how often one touches on it, it always shocks. It was real nice. But, everything before that, was only mildly alright. Excluding the shocker, this was just filled with the main characters thoughts and desires and personal ramblings. No dialogue, beyond the cheerleaders shouts, no real actions, no conflict or plot or anything that happens. It's just a minirant from the poor girl who loves her brother. Really, you could do so much with this. So much. Come on, it's incest--there is so much you could do. And I'm not even talking about NC-17 stuff. This is riddled with emotional conflict, why not play off of it? If you're really wanting to expand this, or make it better, I'd say scrap this initial piece and call it a sketch, and start over. Write with conflict in mind. You might have to hold back on the shocker--it's hard to keep that hidden when that is your source of conflict. What if you wrote about her trying to tell her brother she loves him? Or maybe she is caught writing love poetry to her brother? or she gets in a fight with a girl who is dating her brother? Like I said, you could go with this in so many beautiful directions, but right now it's just rambles from the main character. It's a good sketch, but it doesn't make a good story. And, if you do rewrite it, please write it in paragraphs. ^_~

Best of luck! I really do hope to see a rewritten version from you, I would love to read it. And if you're at all curious, I actually have a poem written about this topic, though it is slightly, eh, risqué. If you're curious to read it, PM me and I'll direct you to it.

I agree with Claudy when she says that this is a poem, and by you saying that it isn't a poem because it is posted in the Romantic Fiction forum, doesn't change the fact.

So now I am going to review it as a poem, and not a pieve of romantic fiction. The structure is good and it seems to be neat and tidy, without it being too long.

But, the story/plot/meaning behind it is very unoriginal and I have read things like this over and over. The girl wants the guy but he doesn't want the girl. What's so different about that? I need to feel more passion from the girl too, longing and anxiety that he doesn't love her, but others. Maybe describe this deeper?

Need improvement, but not too bad.

ok...interesting.

Does anyone else find it a little creepy that she's thinking about her brother that way? :\

Anyway, I guess I liked it... but I cant get over the creepy-ness.