Young Writers Society

To Avenge My Family

I stood across from the man in the middle of the dusty street. Women were hurriedly running in doors pulling children along with them. A small smile came to my face as I thought about how they would frown and scowl at me if they knew I was just a nineteen-year-old girl. They would never look at me the same; of course, I wouldn’t be there after I killed this man.
Revenge was all I wanted right now; to kill the men that killed my family; that was the only thing that I ever thought about these days. It was painful to think about the days when I could play and think like a normal girl. I could dream about wondering cowboys and handsome young drifters. Now, trusting a stranger was hard. It had been three strangers that had killed my family. The only thing that had kept me alive was my neighbor by getting lost on the way back to my house after a dance. The strangers were just leaving as we got to my families’ small farm.

I quickly put the thoughts of my family aside; I had to concentrate on the man in front of me. He was tough, that didn’t scare me. I would make it, I had to, or I would fail in what I had come to do.

“Your quiet a small man.” The man sneered, probably trying to distract me.

“Size does not matter, only speed.” I said in the deepest voice I could muster. My confidence must’ve unnerved him, his hands twitched, and then he went for his gun. My bullet hit him in the heart, a clean shot.
I walked back to my horse, mounted, and rode out of the town. I didn’t want to face any question or take the chance of being exposed. To be caught, a female gunfighter could cost me everything. I wouldn’t be able to walk into a town without being known. I am Andy Monroe; at least that is what this disguise is called, what I say my name is.

I didn’t like to explain anything or talk anymore then I had too. All I wanted to do was avenge my family then ride where no one would recognize me. Then I’d settle down and hopefully start a family. I thought about everything as I raced across the dusty terrain. Last, I knew it was March 29, 1812; that had been about a month ago, but I had given up on keeping track.

*~*~*~*

It was several hours after I had shot that man, maybe four hours before I saw a man crawling across the ground. He was in terrible shape and his clothes were torn and tattered. He was cut up, bruised, and looked like he was about to die. I pushed my horse into a gallop, and pulled to a sliding stop next to him. My big sombrero fell back on my neck reviling my long black hair as I jumped off my horse next to him and pulled the canteen off my saddle. He clutched my hand as I tried to lift his head.

“Help me, please help.” He barely managed through blistered lips.

“Shhh, stay quiet, I’ll help you don’t you worry bout that.” I said resting his head on my lap. I carefully placed the canteen and let just a few drops fall on his lips. He immediately tried to get more, but I couldn’t let him drink to fast or it could make him sick. I thought about the small pond I had ridden past a few minutes before, he needed the water.

“Alright, mister, I’m gonna try to get you up on my horse. Don’t try to move around or there is no way I’ll get you up.” I said. I carefully lifted him up until he was standing. Most of his weight was on me and he was heavy. I somehow managed to get him up into the saddle and leaning forward so that he wouldn’t fall. My horse was nervous under the unfamiliar rider, but he quieted down when I started leading him.

The pond wasn’t too far, and this man needed water worse than anyone I had ever met. He kept mumbling something about a ranch, but I couldn’t make it out so I just kept going. When I made it to the pond, I helped the man down. My horse sniffed the water and moved away, I was surprised; my horse had never turned water down. I looked down in the water and saw it was somewhat clear. There were several dead animals lying around it though. I couldn’t trust the water, so I helped the man back on my horse. I would have to make it to the next town by walking. The sun seemed hotter than it had a few minutes before; it was going to be a long walk, and it was still getting hotter. I pulled my sombrero over my eyes; I had to keep the sun off my face if I wanted to be able to keep going.

Hi, nice to meet you.

I'm going to sort of do this in chunks. An experiment. Sorry if I make a pig's ear of it.

I stood across from the man in the middle of the dusty hmm. For some reason I think it would sound better without the word dusty. It would be fine but as it's an opening sentence perhaps lose the adjective? street. Women were hurriedly running isn't running always hurried? Seemed a tad pointless to describe it as both in doors comma pulling children along with them. A small smile came to my face as I thought about how they would frown and scowl at me if they knew I was just a nineteen-year-old girl. They would never look at me the same; of course, I wouldn’t be there after I killed this man. This last sentence threw me a bit. Tenses a bit muddled and just generally confusing.
Revenge was all I wanted right now; to kill the menmen or man? Earlier it was just one man. that I think 'who had' might sound better killed my family; that was the only thing that I ever thought about these days. Mishmash of tenses. 'Was' is past and 'these days' suggests present. It was painful to think about the days when I could play and think like a normal girl. I could dream about wondering cowboys and handsome young drifters. Now, trusting a stranger was hard. It had been three strangers that who, not that had killed my family. The only thing that had kept me alive was my neighbor by getting lost on the way back to my house after a dance. Dropping this in isn't wise. We have no idea what's going on and you tell us it in a rushed manner. Remember, us readers do not know the MC's life story. We only know what you tell us The strangers were just leaving as we got to my families’ small farm.
I quickly put the thoughts of my family aside; I had to concentrate on the man in front of me. He was tough, but that didn’t scare me. I would make it, I had to, or I would fail in what I had come to do.
“Your quiet a small man.” The man sneered, probably trying to distract me. Should be: "You're quite a small man," the man sneered, probably trying to distract me.
“Size does not matter, only speed. comma, not full stop!” I said in the deepest voice I could muster. My confidence must’ve unnerved him, his hands twitched, and then he went for his gun. My bullet hit him in the heart, a clean shot.
I walked back to my horse, mounted, and rode out of the town. I didn’t want to face any question or take the chance of being exposed. To be caught, a female gunfighter could cost me everything. I wouldn’t be able to walk into a town without being known. I am Andy Monroe; '...or at least etc.' instead. Semi-colon in out of place at least that is what this disguise is called, what I say my name is.
I didn’t like to explain anything or talk anymore then I had too. All I wanted to do was avenge my family then ride where no one would recognize me. Then I’d settle down and hopefully start a family. I thought about everything as I raced across the dusty terrain. Last, no comma I knew it was March 29, 1812; New sentence that had been about a month ago, but I had given up on keeping track.

OK, not bad but a little muddled. Your tenses were going a bit awry. You need to decide whether this is a recollection or in the present --- it cannot be both.
A weakness in this is that it comes across as rushed. Did you want everything written down quickly? It all feels as though you decided the plot, characters, setting etc. as you went along.

It was several hours after I had shot that man, maybe four hours before I saw a man crawling across the ground. He was in terrible shape and his clothes were torn and tattered. He was cut up, bruised, and looked like he was about to die. How did he look as though he would die? Be vivid, show don't tell I pushed my horse into a gallop, and pulled to a sliding stop next to him. My big sombrero fell back on my neck reviling my long black hair as I jumped off my horse next to him and pulled the canteen off my saddle. He clutched my hand as I tried to lift his head. Try some new sentence techniques?
“Help me, please help.” He barely managed through blistered lips. ...please help," he barely managed...
“Shhh, stay quiet, I’ll help you don’t you worry about that.comma, not full-stop!!” I said resting his head on my lap. I carefully placed the canteen and let just a few drops fall on his lips. He immediately tried to get more, but I couldn’t let him drink to fast or it could make him sick. I thought about the small pond I had ridden past a few minutes before, new sentence he needed the water.
“Alright, mister, I’m gonna try to get you up on my horse. Don’t try to move around or there is no way I’ll get you up.” I said. I carefully lifted him up until he was standing. Most of his weight was on me and he was heavy. I somehow managed to get him up into the saddle and leaning forward so that he wouldn’t fall. My horse was nervous under the unfamiliar rider, but he quieted down when I started leading him.
The pond wasn’t too far, and this man needed water worse than anyone I had ever met. He kept mumbling something about a ranch, but I couldn’t make it out so I just kept going. When I made it to the pond, I helped the man down. My horse sniffed the water and moved away, I was surprised; my horse had never turned water down. I looked down in the water and saw it was somewhat clear. There were several dead animals lying around it though. I couldn’t trust the water, so I helped the man back on my horse. I would have to make it to the next town by walking. The sun seemed hotter than it had a few minutes before; it was going to be a long walk, and it was still getting hotter. I pulled my sombrero over my eyes; I had to keep the sun off my face if I wanted to be able to keep going.

This certainly has promise. It's intriguing, the plot made for an exciting read. However, it could have been written better. You did all right grammatically, spelling-wise and your punctuation only had a few flaws, but there was the whole problem with rushing, tense-changing and not using enough imagery. I'm sure you'll see these if you re-read it thoroughly.
Hope I helped and hope to see you around.


Lauren

Thank you SOO SOO SOO much, I'm going to put up Part 2. I'm trying to get this edited so I can send it in for the YWS LJ

TNCowgirl wrote:I stood across from the man in the middle of the dusty street. Women were hurriedly running in doors pulling children along with them. A small smile came to my face as I thought about how they would frown and scowl at me if they knew I was just a nineteen-year-old girl. They would never look at me the same; of course, I wouldn’t be there after I killed this man.

Revenge was all I wanted right now; to kill the men that killed my family; that was the only thing that I ever thought about these days. It was painful to think about the days when I could play and think like a normal girl. I could dream about wondering cowboys and handsome young drifters. Now, trusting a stranger was hard. It had been three strangers that had killed my family. The only thing that had kept me alive was my neighbor by getting lost on the way back to my house after a dance. The strangers were just leaving as we got to my families’ small farm.

These descriptions are appallingly weak. You tell us that women and children were running. You tell us that you wanted and thought about revenge. You tell us that you used to be feminine. You tell us that the strangers killed your entire family. All of this lecture I'm reading is

a) sounding uncomfortably like an information-dump, or a section in which storytelling has been blatantly cast away so the author can relay some crucial knowledge about the plot, setting, etc

and

b) boring the reader quickly just because of the fact that the tone is that of...a robot. There's no detectable emotion, no usage of the five senses save for some "sight" sprinkled throughout.

What you need to do is draw the reader into the story with a superior, strong beginning over all else. Describe the way you looked, first of all. Talk about the worried faces you saw in the bystanders. Show us the intensity of the sun beating down upon your leather vest. Give the reader something to think about and picture in his mind.

I quickly put the thoughts of my family aside; I had to concentrate on the man in front of me. He was tough, that didn’t scare me. I would make it, I had to, or I would fail in what I had come to do.

Again, you're basically letting us know without giving us any feeling, almost as if you're hurriedly writing this on a notepad because you don't have time to flesh it out. I don't know. What I do know is that it's unappealing.

“Your quiet a small man.” The man sneered, probably trying to distract me.

“Size does not matter, only speed.” I said in the deepest voice I could muster.

Real people do not speak like this. The line about size and speed sounds like something Yoda or Confucius would say, and it only succeeds in making the reader laugh at how awkward it is. Something like this would fit the scene much more:

"You got size, but let's see how fast you are," I said etc.

My confidence must’ve unnerved him, his hands twitched, and then he went for his gun. My bullet hit him in the heart, a clean shot.
I walked back to my horse, mounted, and rode out of the town. I didn’t want to face any question or take the chance of being exposed. To be caught, a female gunfighter could cost me everything. I wouldn’t be able to walk into a town without being known. I am Andy Monroe; at least that is what this disguise is called, what I say my name is.

That's it? You just shot him and left? This has got to be one of the driest sections in this entire story. Please add some imagery and description onto that. I suggest employing sight - squirt of blood, shock filling his eyes before they glazed over, and such.

I didn’t like to explain anything or talk anymore then I had too. All I wanted to do was avenge my family then ride where no one would recognize me. Then I’d settle down and hopefully start a family. I thought about everything as I raced across the dusty terrain. Last, I knew it was March 29, 1812; that had been about a month ago, but I had given up on keeping track.

What you are doing here is giving the reader too much information in too small a space. I counted five tidbits of information about yourself packed into one paragraph, one after the other like bullets. Save that kind of writing for biographies; it does not belong in stories. Spread out the information - perhaps put some of this in the beginning, some in the end.

*~*~*~*

It was several hours after I had shot that man, maybe four hours before I saw a man crawling across the ground. He was in terrible shape and his clothes were torn and tattered. He was cut up, bruised, and looked like he was about to die. I pushed my horse into a gallop, and pulled to a sliding stop next to him. My big sombrero fell back on my neck reviling my long black hair as I jumped off my horse next to him and pulled the canteen off my saddle. He clutched my hand as I tried to lift his head.

“Help me, please help.” He barely managed through blistered lips.

“Shhh, stay quiet, I’ll help you don’t you worry bout that.” I said resting his head on my lap. I carefully placed the canteen and let just a few drops fall on his lips. He immediately tried to get more, but I couldn’t let him drink to fast or it could make him sick. I thought about the small pond I had ridden past a few minutes before, he needed the water.

First of all, grammar mistakes are bogging down the story at this point. Re-check this section especially and fix those as soon as possible; some of them, like "reviling" seriously throw the reader off-track because they mean completely different things than what you intended. That's the danger with grammar mistakes.

“Alright, mister, I’m gonna try to get you up on my horse. Don’t try to move around or there is no way I’ll get you up.” I said. I carefully lifted him up until he was standing. Most of his weight was on me and he was heavy. I somehow managed to get him up into the saddle and leaning forward so that he wouldn’t fall. My horse was nervous under the unfamiliar rider, but he quieted down when I started leading him.

The pond wasn’t too far, and this man needed water worse than anyone I had ever met. He kept mumbling something about a ranch, but I couldn’t make it out so I just kept going. When I made it to the pond, I helped the man down. My horse sniffed the water and moved away, I was surprised; my horse had never turned water down. I looked down in the water and saw it was somewhat clear. There were several dead animals lying around it though. I couldn’t trust the water, so I helped the man back on my horse. I would have to make it to the next town by walking. The sun seemed hotter than it had a few minutes before; it was going to be a long walk, and it was still getting hotter. I pulled my sombrero over my eyes; I had to keep the sun off my face if I wanted to be able to keep going.

This is a little better because of how you've at least attempted to paint the picture instead of just telling the reader about how wonderful of a picture it was. However, there are still points which are sorely lacking in imagery; one such part is when you describe the dead animals. Talk about how their fur was rotting or the pungent smell.

As you can probably tell at this point, imagery remains your bane. Go through every line in this story and wherever you see something with potential (like the dead animals) being described in a bland sentence, add some spice. Make the reader want to read this story. I will critique the other part of this story in a while.

Hope that helped.

This has a good first part, but i'm not sure about the second part. The charactor has been introduced quite well personality wise but I don't realise what she looks like and where and when this is set until you tell us the date and then talk about her sombrero. You need to introduce these parts earlier.

i like the idea of only knowing her by her nom-de-plume. That works quite well, and keeps an air of mystery about her.

there're are just a couple of little things that i picked up on as well.

They would never look at me the same; of course, I wouldn’t be there after I killed this man.

I don't think the semi colon is appropriate, just put a fullstop.

ever thought about these days. It was painful to think about the days when

look out for repetition. change the second "days" to "times" or some other sense of past time.

wondering cowboys

[sp]wandering

quiet

[sp] quite

To be caught, a female gunfighter could cost me everything.

this doesn't quite make sense. try changing to: "As a female gunfighter, being caught could cost me everything"

It was several hours after I had shot that man, maybe four hours before I saw a man crawling across the ground.

Again, watch the repetition. try changing the second "man" to "figure" which suggests that it's a little more mysterious and less identified.

this whole introduction of this charactor is a little rushed. This girl has just killed a man, and has her family on her mind, she would either be sympathetic and reminescent of her own plight, or she would be cautious of another stranger. We don't have much of an insight into her mind at this point and therefore don't understand why she agrees to help the man.

Overall: you need to work on the charactor's presentation. I don't understand her entirely in the second half, it doesn't make sense because you havn't presented her views very well, only her ned to help the man. She must have other thoughts, but you havn't told us them.
Also you need to show your reader where you're setting your story. You don't have to be specific, but I want to know that I'm in the wild west when I see the man that she shoots. I want to feel the atmosphere of the shootout. show me the tumbleweed! show me the dust and banging window shutters!

I really like that story tncowgirl it was very brave and bold and the character had a very unqie personality but if i had to say one more thing it would be to give us a better idea of whats going on,i could not get a great picture of what was going but overall i thought it was very good. It reminded me a bit of noughts and crosses if you have heard of that. I will be looking forward to part two of your story.

I liked it.
There were a couple sentance errors,but who cares,right?
I think if you apply yourself ,you could be a great writer.
Keep writing stories.