Young Writers Society

sorry about the length byt if I publish multiple chapters at a time it's easier for me please go gently PLEASE!


Five:
MaryBelle:

I was woken rudely by an insistent knocking on the downstairs door. Groaning I pulled myself from underneath my warm covers; I had slept in my clothes.
As I walked down the hall, I peeked in Mark’s room to see if he was awake. No such luck, He was snoring loudly and his red hair was tousled with sleep. “Mark” I hissed, my voice rising to a shriek. He rolled over, his head lolling against his pillow. I shut his door with a slam and continued down the steps; to the cold downstairs room. I shivered as I passed the side room silently, lest I wake the younger children. I smoothed my plait and pulled my mobcap from the hook by the door; tying it snugly beneath my chin. A glance in the mirror above the hooks showed a young girl with red hair, a sleepy face and messy, stained clothing. ‘Oh well it cannot be helped’ I told myself: unbolting the door and letting it swing open...


~

Artic cold blasted me: making me stumble back against the doorframe. “Hello?” “Hello? Anyone there?” no reply. I turned preparing to shut the door as an arm reached to pull me into the snow……





Six:
AnnaLea:

The cold winds blew against my face, making my nose red and my ears tingle. I had to escape ‘but how?’ a voice inside my head sang annoyingly. I turned away from the fierce blowing of the wind and rain combined; drawing my hood and fur cloak closer to myself. I was the only topside, beside a man and his wife; bent double by the wind. Their clothes were in rags, waving like flags in the severe storm.
The man’s are was around his wife; huddling against her.
The woman felt my gaze and turned her face crazed and pale. “It’s your fault!” she shouted: her voice shrill “Your fault I left my children!” The man hurried past shouting apologies, pulling the woman down the steps towards the cabins.

Now I was the only one of deck,
And I was happy.





~November 14, 1700,
I was on deck today and a woman shouted at me “it’s your fault I left my children” and I got the feeling it somehow was! How could that be?Is it the “seasickness Ma was talking of last night?” or something more sinister? Like inside motives? I feel so very confused!

~Lea~


~
Everyone gathered on the icy deck, huddling in small groups. My family gathered starboard huddled together with May standing in the middle of our tight knit circle, her shining face. “LAND AHOY!” the shout made everyone surge forward to the rail to catch site of Sholamain Island. “I see it!” someone bellowed. My heart rose into my throat. The island had a huge volcano in the center, surrounded by jungle. The perfect place to hide. The sailors hustled us towards the stairs leading down to our rooms to pack up our belongings. “We’ll arrive there in an hour,” they told us.

I stood holding my knapsack to my chest, packed with all my belongings, minus my journal, which lay on my bed open at a blank page. I picked it up and pulled the pen from the pocket on the front.

~November 20, 1700,
I have decided that I will run away.
-Lea~
It was a short entry, but as I wrote the words it sank in. My decision was set in stone.

~

The sailors let us leave the ship in groups of 10 to 20 persons. I made sure to be separated from the rest of my family. I carried my bag: stuffed with the food from my dinner and my lamb’s wool blanket. Once I walked down the plank to the ground, I slipped away following the group at a distance. Once we neared the Jungle, I slowed down even more, until I was at the back of the group and then slipped behind a large tree. I ran through the underbrush till I reached a clearing, where I couldn’t hear the voices of the excited people walking towards their new life.
Not me. I was walking the other way.





Seven:
MaryBelle:

The cold cut through my thin dress like knives. I shook like a leaf as a hand covered my mouth. Trying to keep me from screaming or breathing, or both. I was jerked to the end of Isle Rd. and down the long alley to Ester St. We stopped then, and the man removed his hand. I screamed out, but nobody heard me over the howling of the wind. Another, softer hand held a handkerchief up to my nose/mouth smothering me in sickening sweetness.
I felt my mind go fuzzy and then I saw the world disappear into an abyss of blackness.

~
Waking to a swaying motion, which did nothing for my flipping stomach. I sat up shaking; I was locked in a hold with no window into the room or rooms beyond. My stomach kept flipping summersaults, pain chasing itself around my abdomen like a dog chasing its tail. The door opened and a man dressed entirely in black entered; carrying a tray of noxious food. I felt stomach lurch and I puked all over the man in black. He backed away; disgusted by the sick that covered his front. I laughed nervously backing away from the food he threw on my bed. My head was still fuzzy from the sleeping drug they had shoved up my nose; making me feel like a drunk man wandering the streets after curfew. “I don’t want it.” I said stupidly; for no one but me was is the stinking room. My stomach still chasing its tail.


Eight:
AnnaLea:
My first meal as an outlaw was a banana and a slice of cold bread.
I wrote in my journal: “What a feast!” though really I was sick of the cold bits I have had all through the voyage.
I walked for a while, searching for a shelter of some kind.
The wind made me feel as if shards of frozen ice were being slipped down my dress. My blanket: wrapped tightly round my shoulders, was merely making my shoulders sag with the weight of drenched cloth.

I came upon an abandoned temple: stone and mortar; dusty and crumbling. “Hello?” I yelled through the doorway “anyone here?” no one answered. I crept down the corridor until I reached the end: where a disenagrated pedestal sat. I settled down wrapping myself in my blanket, still wet, making me shake with cold and exhaustion.
~
“We can’t find her” an anxious voice broke through the freezing air to my hiding spot: waking me with a start. “Your sure she got off the boat?” another deeper, gruffer voice answered “of course” the voice snapped angrily, I heard underbrush and bracken crack, as if someone had stomped his foot. My heart was racing a hundred miles per hour, and I shook with dread and cold. ‘What am I going to do?’ There was not a doubt in my mind that they were looking for me. I stood up: slowly and reached for my knapsack wrapping myself up in the blanket to keep warm. I moved slowly towards the exit at the end of the temple: being careful not to step on the gravel that lined the sides. Once I reached the doorway, I slipped out; walking away from the voices of the searchers: towards the volcano; which rumbled ominously.
~
I walked until dawn; shivering in the artic air. I felt numb all the way down to my toes. I reached a creek: steam rising from the water. A cave had been dug into the hill that lead down to a stream, hidden from searchers eyes.
I slept: growing gradually warmer as the quilt absorbed my body heat. When I woke, I heard voices “shush Madeline!” “They’ll hear you!” I could hear gravel crunch beneath someone’s feet and a baby snuffling. “Here’s a cave.” Said another voice, a boy by the sound of it, shadows flickered across my cave wall; and in stumbled a small group of children, the oldest younger than I. They all had raven black curly hair, violet eyes and pale faces. The tallest were a girl and a boy, standing shoulder to shoulder. We stared at each other for a long moment. Part of me was screaming ‘run! Run!’ The other part took pity on these poor creatures. “Sorry” said the girl, the one I had heard reprimanding ‘Madeline’ outside. ‘I wonder which one is Madeline’ I thought looking the children up and down in turn. “we’ll leave” said the girl turning away. “No” my voice was clear and strong, and it rang through the cave like a bugle calling villagers to the square. They turned to me; surprised; then as one collapsed to the floor of the cavern, leaning against walls and moaning with weariness. “thanks” said the girl; pushing her dirt caked hair out of her face and stepping forward, “ I’m Madelia” she said extending a grimy hand. I shook it.
She pointed to her fellow travelers in turn starting with the boy: “this is: Peter, Joanne, Madeline, Robert and Cecilia” I nodded; not wishing to reveal my name to these strangers. I turned away reaching into my pack “anyone hungry?” I said in a voice of forced calm ‘why do I feel as if this is a bad idea?’ I asked myself repeatedly as I handed out bits of goat cheese. My heart was pounding so hard that it was as if it wished to burst from my chest and walk away, leaving me lying dead on the sandy cave floor, never to speak, hear or see again.
~
We slept most of the day. Madelia and I tried to scrape together some food, but in truth, their food supplies and mine were greatly depleted. She explained to me their story as we scrounged outside for berries and nuts: “We are member of the Falistis” this drew gasps from me; (the Falistis were a secret, underground group fighting against the Kato government.) She continued; ignoring my intake of breath. “My parents disagreed with the leader of Falistis there for making us the ‘out ones’ of the society. Shunned from the creation of new laws, not invited to meeting ect. We, us children I mean; were tired of sleeping in a home for homeless people so we hopped on The Empiress boat.”
I nodded; The Empiress had sailed only a week before, the boat I had taken passage on: the New Beginning. “They discovered us and threw us in the hold. They claimed we would be sold as slaves on Sholamain Island.” She took a breath leaning down to pick some black berries from a bush, she continued: “we escaped, but just barely. We had been traveling from place to place till last night.” We stood there in silence until I realized she was waiting for me to say something: “Hmm” then turned away walking towards the fissure, towards sanctuary.

~November 23, 1700,
They are young, but seem dangerous. I fear of releasing information they might disclose to the enemy. How sad. How sad that I have been driven to not trusting CHILDREN: the oldest younger than myself. How sad.
-Lea~

~November 23, 1700 (later)
We decided to set up a nice camp in the cave. It’s spacious and has a long ‘Corridor’ (for want of a better word) that might lead to a safer place. Though I still have doubts, I have told them my name and am going to fabricate an untrue story soon.
-Lea~

Morning came too quickly. Madelia and I took everyone’s clothes and washed them in the stream, cleaning them of dirt and grime. Then We took the children out, by age and washed them free of dirt as well. Peter reported he had seen sailors looking for me, while he was hunting with his knife.

I made supper; it was a culmination of berries and nuts in a stew. Though disgusting it was edible.
We sat around afterwards talking quietly as the youngest fell asleep. “Should we move?” I asked my voice trembling from worry “I don’t know..” was the reply.

Alright, so, firstly, I'm gonna say that it was kinda rude to advertise your work during a review. You could write on my wall, or PM me. Not in a review.

Again, I'm gonna do this by chapter

Five:
MaryBelle:

I was woken rudely by an insistent knocking on the downstairs door. Groaning I pulled myself from underneath my warm covers; I had slept in my clothes.
As I walked down the hall, I peeked in Mark’s room to see if he was awake. No such luck, He was snoring loudly and his red hair was tousled with sleep. “Mark” I hissed, my voice rising to a shriek. He rolled over, his head lolling against his pillow. I shut his door with a slam and continued down the steps; to the cold downstairs room. I shivered as I passed the side room silently, lest I wake the younger children. I smoothed my plait and pulled my mobcap from the hook by the door; tying it snugly beneath my chin. A glance in the mirror above the hooks showed a young girl with red hair, a sleepy face and messy, stained clothing. ‘Oh well it cannot be helped’ I told myself: unbolting the door and letting it swing open...


~

Artic cold blasted me: making me stumble back against the doorframe. “Hello?” “Hello? Anyone there?” no reply. I turned preparing to shut the door as an arm reached to pull me into the snow……

And that was it. I have a small problem with your length more then anything. It leaves much to be desired. You just write a paragraph or two, and call that a chapter.
Then, your whole writing style. You just write by telling the reader everything, which is boring.

Six:
AnnaLea:

The cold winds blew against my face, making my nose red and my ears tingle. I had to escape ‘but how?’ a voice inside my head sang annoyingly. I turned away from the fierce blowing of the wind and rain combined; drawing my hood and fur cloak closer to myself. I was the only topside, beside a man and his wife; bent double by the wind. Their clothes were in rags, waving like flags in the severe storm.
The man’s are was around his wife; huddling against her.
The woman felt my gaze and turned her face crazed and pale. “It’s your fault!” she shouted: her voice shrill “Your fault I left my children!” The man hurried past shouting apologies, pulling the woman down the steps towards the cabins.

Now I was the only one of deck,
And I was happy.





~November 14, 1700,
I was on deck today and a woman shouted at me “it’s your fault I left my children” and I got the feeling it somehow was! How could that be?Is it the “seasickness Ma was talking of last night?” or something more sinister? Like inside motives? I feel so very confused!

~Lea~


~
Everyone gathered on the icy deck, huddling in small groups. My family gathered starboard huddled together with May standing in the middle of our tight knit circle, her shining face. “LAND AHOY!” the shout made everyone surge forward to the rail to catch site of Sholamain Island. “I see it!” someone bellowed. My heart rose into my throat. The island had a huge volcano in the center, surrounded by jungle. The perfect place to hide. The sailors hustled us towards the stairs leading down to our rooms to pack up our belongings. “We’ll arrive there in an hour,” they told us.

I stood holding my knapsack to my chest, packed with all my belongings, minus my journal, which lay on my bed open at a blank page. I picked it up and pulled the pen from the pocket on the front.

~November 20, 1700,
I have decided that I will run away.
-Lea~
It was a short entry, but as I wrote the words it sank in. My decision was set in stone.

~

The sailors let us leave the ship in groups of 10 to 20 persons. I made sure to be separated from the rest of my family. I carried my bag: stuffed with the food from my dinner and my lamb’s wool blanket. Once I walked down the plank to the ground, I slipped away following the group at a distance. Once we neared the Jungle, I slowed down even more, until I was at the back of the group and then slipped behind a large tree. I ran through the underbrush till I reached a clearing, where I couldn’t hear the voices of the excited people walking towards their new life.
Not me. I was walking the other way.

I think I said this already, but anything with thoughts, or diary entries, unless it's your entire story, should be in italics

Seven:
MaryBelle:

The cold cut through my thin dress like knives. I shook like a leaf as a hand covered my mouth. Trying to keep me from screaming or breathing, or both. I was jerked to the end of Isle Rd. and down the long alley to Ester St. We stopped then, and the man removed his hand. I screamed out, but nobody heard me over the howling of the wind. Another, softer hand held a handkerchief up to my nose/mouth smothering me in sickening sweetness.
I felt my mind go fuzzy and then I saw the world disappear into an abyss of blackness.

~
Waking to a swaying motion, which did nothing for my flipping stomach. I sat up shaking; I was locked in a hold with no window into the room or rooms beyond. My stomach kept flipping summersaults, pain chasing itself around my abdomen like a dog chasing its tail. The door opened and a man dressed entirely in black entered; carrying a tray of noxious food. I felt stomach lurch and I puked all over the man in black. He backed away; disgusted by the sick that covered his front. I laughed nervously backing away from the food he threw on my bed. My head was still fuzzy from the sleeping drug they had shoved up my nose; making me feel like a drunk man wandering the streets after curfew. “I don’t want it.” I said stupidly; for no one but me was is the stinking room. My stomach still chasing its tail.

Write out the whole words like 'road' or 'street'. And remember to always, always start a new paragraph with speech, or else, if becomes a boring block of text

Eight:
AnnaLea:
My first meal as an outlaw was a banana and a slice of cold bread.
I wrote in my journal: “What a feast!” though really I was sick of the cold bits I have had all through the voyage.
I walked for a while, searching for a shelter of some kind.
The wind made me feel as if shards of frozen ice were being slipped down my dress. My blanket: wrapped tightly round my shoulders, was merely making my shoulders sag with the weight of drenched cloth.

I came upon an abandoned temple: stone and mortar; dusty and crumbling. “Hello?” I yelled through the doorway “anyone here?” no one answered. I crept down the corridor until I reached the end: where a disenagrated pedestal sat. I settled down wrapping myself in my blanket, still wet, making me shake with cold and exhaustion.
~
“We can’t find her” an anxious voice broke through the freezing air to my hiding spot: waking me with a start. “Your sure she got off the boat?” another deeper, gruffer voice answered “of course” the voice snapped angrily, I heard underbrush and bracken crack, as if someone had stomped his foot. My heart was racing a hundred miles per hour, and I shook with dread and cold. ‘What am I going to do?’ There was not a doubt in my mind that they were looking for me. I stood up: slowly and reached for my knapsack wrapping myself up in the blanket to keep warm. I moved slowly towards the exit at the end of the temple: being careful not to step on the gravel that lined the sides. Once I reached the doorway, I slipped out; walking away from the voices of the searchers: towards the volcano; which rumbled ominously.
~
I walked until dawn; shivering in the artic air. I felt numb all the way down to my toes. I reached a creek: steam rising from the water. A cave had been dug into the hill that lead down to a stream, hidden from searchers eyes.
I slept: growing gradually warmer as the quilt absorbed my body heat. When I woke, I heard voices “shush Madeline!” “They’ll hear you!” I could hear gravel crunch beneath someone’s feet and a baby snuffling. “Here’s a cave.” Said another voice, a boy by the sound of it, shadows flickered across my cave wall; and in stumbled a small group of children, the oldest younger than I. They all had raven black curly hair, violet eyes and pale faces. The tallest were a girl and a boy, standing shoulder to shoulder. We stared at each other for a long moment. Part of me was screaming ‘run! Run!’ The other part took pity on these poor creatures. “Sorry” said the girl, the one I had heard reprimanding ‘Madeline’ outside. ‘I wonder which one is Madeline’ I thought looking the children up and down in turn. “we’ll leave” said the girl turning away. “No” my voice was clear and strong, and it rang through the cave like a bugle calling villagers to the square. They turned to me; surprised; then as one collapsed to the floor of the cavern, leaning against walls and moaning with weariness. “thanks” said the girl; pushing her dirt caked hair out of her face and stepping forward, “ I’m Madelia” she said extending a grimy hand. I shook it.
She pointed to her fellow travelers in turn starting with the boy: “this is: Peter, Joanne, Madeline, Robert and Cecilia” I nodded; not wishing to reveal my name to these strangers. I turned away reaching into my pack “anyone hungry?” I said in a voice of forced calm ‘why do I feel as if this is a bad idea?’ I asked myself repeatedly as I handed out bits of goat cheese. My heart was pounding so hard that it was as if it wished to burst from my chest and walk away, leaving me lying dead on the sandy cave floor, never to speak, hear or see again.
~
We slept most of the day. Madelia and I tried to scrape together some food, but in truth, their food supplies and mine were greatly depleted. She explained to me their story as we scrounged outside for berries and nuts: “We are member of the Falistis” this drew gasps from me; (the Falistis were a secret, underground group fighting against the Kato government.) She continued; ignoring my intake of breath. “My parents disagreed with the leader of Falistis there for making us the ‘out ones’ of the society. Shunned from the creation of new laws, not invited to meeting ect. We, us children I mean; were tired of sleeping in a home for homeless people so we hopped on The Empiress boat.”
I nodded; The Empiress had sailed only a week before, the boat I had taken passage on: the New Beginning. “They discovered us and threw us in the hold. They claimed we would be sold as slaves on Sholamain Island.” She took a breath leaning down to pick some black berries from a bush, she continued: “we escaped, but just barely. We had been traveling from place to place till last night.” We stood there in silence until I realized she was waiting for me to say something: “Hmm” then turned away walking towards the fissure, towards sanctuary.

~November 23, 1700,
They are young, but seem dangerous. I fear of releasing information they might disclose to the enemy. How sad. How sad that I have been driven to not trusting CHILDREN: the oldest younger than myself. How sad.
-Lea~

~November 23, 1700 (later)
We decided to set up a nice camp in the cave. It’s spacious and has a long ‘Corridor’ (for want of a better word) that might lead to a safer place. Though I still have doubts, I have told them my name and am going to fabricate an untrue story soon.
-Lea~

Morning came too quickly. Madelia and I took everyone’s clothes and washed them in the stream, cleaning them of dirt and grime. Then We took the children out, by age and washed them free of dirt as well. Peter reported he had seen sailors looking for me, while he was hunting with his knife.

I made supper; it was a culmination of berries and nuts in a stew. Though disgusting it was edible.
We sat around afterwards talking quietly as the youngest fell asleep. “Should we move?” I asked my voice trembling from worry “I don’t know..” was the reply.

This is the chapter, where, there should have been more emotion then all, and there was nothing. I seriously felt like I was just reading words-which I was.
Use emotion to make your characters seem real, make them jump off the page, make them be more relatable. Honestly, I felt nothing while reading, and that isn't what you want.


Overall

Alright, so, I'm confused.
What you should do is slow way down, and describe everything through your MC's.
Show, don't tell the reader. Just paint a picture for the reader, but don't tell the reader everything. That does nothing to work the readers brain and imagination.
~WickedWonder

Me again.

Part five:
You don't really need that break in between the two parts, since the second one is very short anyway, and part of the same scene.
At this point it feelslike the story is starting to run ahead a bit. In the beginning you managed to fit a lot of information into short sentences, but here there isn't much substance at all. It's a very short journey from her bed to the door. Maybe she could have been lying awake doing something beforehand, or maybe you could describe the rest of the place she is staying in - what noises does it make once the sounds of the day have faded? How do things look different in the dark? Is there anything there that she didn't notice during the day?

Part six:
I don't fully understand what the first section of this part is about. Someone's fault someone went missing? It wasn't entirely clear, and Lea's short diary entry didn't do much to sort it out.
After that they make it to land, some kind of jungle, she hides behind a tree... It's a little too narrative, things keep happening one after the other with little description or explaination. I think this part especially needs to be dragged out, maybe even over a few scenes.

Part seven:
Again, drag it out. I only have one nitpick for this section, and that's "I said, stupidly." 'Stupidly' comes right after 'said,' so the meaning of the sentence is that she said it in a stupid manner. I think what you mean is that what she said was stupid, so instead you would say, "I said, which seemed stupid."

Part eight:
This is the kind of length you want each part to be. Short enough so that it fints with the style you seem to be naturally adapting, but not so short it's hard to follow.
Name dump: You've suddenly introduced a lot of names at once, which aren't going to make much sense to your reader - if anything they will make the reader feel obligated to learn and remember the names. It would be better to simply mention that these people existed, but introduce them over a longer period of time.

Now, to part nine!