Young Writers Society

[i] Sometimes, trying to find originality is like trying to find a needle in a haystack; or a four leaf clover. To be original was not the main objective of Aidan’s painting though. He needed to convey to everyone his pain. Words were not his friend and, more often than not, they failed him. His art however, gave him the upper hand. Wincing in pain after having to rearrange his canvas into the small square of natural light allowed through the blinds in the “living room” of his studio flat, he downed a large glass of Irish whiskey. Self medication, he thought with a small but satisfied grin. The alcohol might not have been numbing the physical discomfort of his injuries but was doing wonders for depleting his memory, albeit temporarily. It came back in crippling waves and surges.
The artwork was the only thing left behind to prove his anguish; to show the people involved how much Aidan regretted his actions. The whiskey amalgamated with numerous prescription drugs and as the thirty year old lay collapsed on his bed in the early hours of the morning, he knew he would no longer have to answer the questions or live with the guilt.[/i]

Gazing at her wedding picture sat on the centre of the mantelpiece, Sian felt the familiar warmth of life being so close to perfect that occasionally it was lined with the flutter and pinch of nervousness of losing it all. It was eighteen months since her and Aidan had exchanged vows in an idyllic country church in Shropshire but the magic between them hadn’t waned. Her grey eyes shone like white gold into his tanzanite blue ones. Their hair, so different, yet matched perfectly; hers fiery red, almost unnaturally bright, while his black as coal.
Her smugness was rudely interrupted by the vibration of a text message.

“Sweets, so sorry but working late tonight. Completely forgot about parent’s evening. See you 9ish xAx”

Despite the news not being so positive, it almost made her chuckle. It was so like him to forget something so important. Luckily, in terms of work, his impish grin got him out of all the trouble his forgetfulness could get him into, and Sian knew it was more than he let on. Aidan’s ability to laugh things off envied her. His ability to wrap teenagers round his little finger and get them creating the most fantastic images, sculptures and various other masterpieces made her even more jealous though. She had trouble drawing stick men and couldn’t get her fellow receptionists in the local doctors surgery to make her a cup of coffee. Wondering why they had employed her took up an inordinate amount of time. Doctors surgeries always had harridans of receptionists who only gave you an appointment if your arm was actually falling off, and even that only happened if you rang first thing in the morning, right? Growing up her brother Rupert has always called her Sian the Soft Touch, but I suppose it could have been worse!

Hmmm.....Interesting concept. I don't know if it will keep it's interest in part 2 though. It seems more like a draft than a story. It just seems....empty. I don't feel much towards the characters.

“Sweets, so sorry but working late tonight. Completely forgot about parent’s evening. See you 9ish xAx”

What does xAx means? I get the x represents kisses, but why is there an A in the middle?

"Growing up her brother Rupert has always called her Sian the Soft Touch, but I suppose it could have been worse!"

Why the exlamation mark at the end of the last sentence? It makes it sound corny. What has this got to do with the story? It makes the piece something it is really not. It messes up the style of writing. You keep on talking about smugness, a possible femme fatale, yet the last few lines are so cliche and so annoying that it makes the character feel like she has nothing interesting to find out about.

"Doctors surgeries always had harridans of receptionists who only gave you an appointment if your arm was actually falling off, and even that only happened if you rang first thing in the morning, right?"

This is more something you would write if the story was first person. It also seems really pointless IMO.

Overall, part 1 of your "story" isn't all flaws. I liked some bits, like the intro in italics, but that build-up didn't save the fact that your sentences has too much fat. WAY too much. The voice is all over the place, and I still don't know why Sian is so mad. Why? I am really confused. You need to edit this. NEED. If Part 2 is like this, I hope you read this review and make sure it is better than this. Because, in all honesty, I don't really like this. Which is a shame, because I have been reading your work, and I am impressed. However this didn't impress me so much. Just edit it, and it'll be fine.

It will be edited dear, was written in 10 mins inbetween uni work and I have a feeling it'll be a full novel so I don't need to cram it so early. cheers for the review and I'm not sure where you're from, but maybe it's the englishness of this you don't like/get in terms of colloquialisms. I hope it grows on you xx