Young Writers Society

"Hey, Ella. Could you help me with this," my brother, Marcus says. he points at his suitcase, which weighs about three pounds.
I snicker. "Yeah, sure."
I walk towards it and pick it up. light as a feather.
"Woah, Ella! Since when did you get so strong?" Marcus exclaims, hands on his hips, sweat glistening.
I carry it into out new house and set it down by the couch. i wipe my hand on my jeans, getting the sweat off.
"Thanks for helping, Mark," I say sarcasticly.
It's been over three hours since we finally got to our new home. Marcus' suitcase was the last of the luggage. So now all we have to do is unpack. Dad, right now, is at the store, getting paint for our new bedrooms. Since I was so bummed about, Dad let me have first pick of the rooms, includiong the master. So you know whick one i picked right? Wrong. I didn't pick the master bedroom. I picked the room furthest from civilization, the basement. Bigger than the master and with my own private bathroom. Score. So yeah, i'm content with what i have.
"No prob," he says, shooting me a smile and a thumbs up. He heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. I trail behind him and slap his hand.
"Wash your hands," I say, bumping my hips against his.
He laughs. "Who are you, my mother?"
I freeze, and gulp. My hand automatically reaches up and touches the choker my mother gave. It was mine the night of my thirteenth birthday. [i]A joke, Ella. It's just a joke.[i] I smileand give an uneasy laugh," you wish. Now get to it."
He shakes his head and leaves the kitchen.
I stand there reminiscing the past, of when my mother was here. I was fifteen when she died and her mother was a mystery. It happened when I was at school; I came home one day to find out the horrible news. For weeks straight, I cried, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. Emotions were a myth to me. Then eight months after my seventeenth birthday, i started returning to my old self.
I began to find myself singing and drawing again. For awhile, I had no idea what I was drawing. Doodles here and there, until i saw the whole picture. It looked weird to me. I could make out a tree, without leaves, the branches spreading out. Two people stood near it, the taller one clutching the other's wrists.
How I got all that from a doodle escapes my mind.
Anyways, I started skateboarding again, learning new tricks. I began going out with friends. Then it upset me when Dad announced we were moving. I had said goodbye to all my friends who threw me a going-away party. It brought tears to my eyes, but I kept it together. It hurts thinking about it.
"Ella! Marcus!" Dad calls, slamming the front door behind him. "Paint Delivery!"
I walk into the living room. "Hey, Dad."
"Hey, hon," he hugs me, and kisses my forehead. He holds up a can. "This one'syours."
i take the can and try to read the label. "Lim-Leem- [i]Lime[i]," I start. "Lime greh-griih... green?" I look back up at Dad. "Lime green?
He nods and smiles. "Good job. You're getting better. Keep practicing."
Marcus comes down from the top of the stairs and snatches the can out of my hands. "How come she gets the better color? And I'm stuck with beige. Thanks, Dad."
"You guys aren't painting today. You have school tomorrow."
"I'm not going," I declare, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Oh, yes you are, Little Lady. Don't even try it. You're going to school whether you like it or not."

I remember what it's like to be a new writer, so I feel your pain. I can tell you that is a pretty decent start. Let's start with the technical mistakes.

sarcasticly

Should be 'sarcastically'

So you know whick

Should be "which"


There's more, but I think you get the idea. Remember to read over your work and proofread it. There were a couple things I noticed with your style.

Dad, right now, is at the store, getting paint for our new bedrooms.

Waay too many commas in that sentence, it's choppy and it feels weird. I would suggest you cut out the 'right now', it messes with the flow of the sentence. You make do this a lot in that paragraph.


quote]Since I was so bummed about,[/quote]
I don't know if you meant to say "Bummed out" or "Bummed about ____".

So you know whick one i picked right?

This is a stupid sentence for me. You aren't talking to your reader. Some books do have narrarators doing that, but it's not something you should try off hand. Don't ask questions and pretend you are talking to the reader, just tell the story.

I stand there reminiscing the past, of when my mother was here. I was fifteen when she died and her mother was a mystery. It happened when I was at school; I came home one day to find out the horrible news. For weeks straight, I cried, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. Emotions were a myth to me. Then eight months after my seventeenth birthday, i started returning to my old self.

a few things about this.
Number one is the second sentenece, "I was fifteen when she died and her mother was a mystery." really have no idea what you're trying to say here. I think you got thoughts mixed up when you wrote it.
Number two is what you say. You talk about she was in a dark place, which was understandable given her mother dying. But you imply that she got a little better after a few weeks. Which again, sounds about right. What gets me is you saying that it took her over two years to return to normal. Even for a teenager, that's not how it goes. It doesn't take that long to return to normalcy after a death, especially because your character seems to have a loving family and supporting friends. Generally it takes a year at most for people to return to their normal lives after a death in the family.
The last thing is that this is a kind of awkward way to tell your reader that she doesn't have a mom. You transitioned into to it well, don't get me wrong. But the placement seems a little weird.

i take the can and try to read the label. "Lim-Leem- [i]Lime[i]," I start. "Lime greh-griih... green?" I look back up at Dad. "Lime green?

This section throws me. Is she Dyslexic? Is she slow? Did she apparently have a bad childhood and only just start learning how to read?

"I'm not going," I declare, crossing my arms over my chest.

This seems like a little bratty thing for a 17 year old girl(?) to do. Though it seems to reinforce my theory that she is mentally ill. Which makes me wonder. Your first half tells me she's a normal teenager, your second half tells me she has special needs. What happened? Did I miss the section where she slammed her head into the wall multiple times?


The last thing I want to mention is your ending, it seems like you ended a little weak. I know this sin because I committed it recently when I wrote the latest chapter of my novel. The advice I was told was that if you end a chapter on a weak note, then you have to begin the next one on a weak note to get back on the plot track. And that can discourage your reader.

All in all, it's not half bad for a newbie though. I did enjoy reading it.

ahahaaahaa OMG THIS IS MY SISTERS BOOK ! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK LOSER !! PROOF READ NEXT TIIME !!!! i looves you !

I think this is a great start and, from what I've read so far, I would like to read more of this story. I think you have developed the main character really well and you tell the reader just enough to get them interested but leave them asking questions about what's happened previously.

Since I was so bummed about, Dad let me have first pick of the rooms, includiong the master.

Here there are some grammatical problems. I think you've probably just missed out some words but it doesn't make sense. It should be, "Since I was so bummed about..., Dad let me..."

Score. So yeah, i'm content with what i have.

Here I and the I in I'm must be capitals.

I stand there reminiscing the past, of when my mother was here.

Here, this doesn't entirely make sense. It would make more sense if you said, "I stand there reminiscing about the past, when my mother was here.
Mostly these are mistakes that can be fixed by proof reading and sometimes it's better if someone else reads your work because they'll spot things that you won't.
Keep writing this; it's a good story and I've already grown very attatched to this main character.