Young Writers Society

Jeremiah stood, staring out the window before him. It was not a pleasant sight to see through the open space, but then again, was Jerusalem a pleasant place to see at all any more?
The street beside his small house was bustling with activity. A stream of people flowed in both ways down the broad street, their torn, drab garments hanging loosely on their bodies as was becoming even more sadly common as the year dragged on. Their feet kicked up dust that swirled in the air, making it difficult to see. An occasional ox-pulled cart rolled through the crowd, the beasts of burden making all kinds of noises to show their own frustration, mirrored by that of their drivers as they were forced to move ever so slowly through the growing crowd.
He could smell the scent of animal dung from the stable beside his house, mixed with that of breakfast being cooked in the homes across the street. It made a strange smell altogether, wonderful yet rancid at the same time, something unique; the smell of the city that was his home.
It was a sharp contrast to the rolling plains that surrounded the city of Anathoth where he had grown up; where it always smelled of fresh green grass. It had been a small place, barely earning the title of ‘city’. The majority of the population had been priests. He had trained to become a priest himself, and even succeeded before he was called to Jerusalem. That had been a simple life. This was yet another sharp contrast to his present position. However, that was the past, and it was behind him. The future rested on his shoulders, not the past. Therefore, he had to focus on the present.
Pushing both memories of the past and thoughts of the present out of his mind, Jeremiah refocused his attention on the busy street. The dust cleared just enough for him to spot a beggar on the street corner, crying out for the passerby to show mercy and drop a coin at his feet. He watched the beggar for a while as the man came in and out of view due to the swirling sand and dirt that erupted into the air under every man’s footstep. The beggar’s ragged clothes must not have been washed in months, and they hung loosely on his old and frail body, as if the man had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time; the man's body was in the same condition. He was far from handsome, with his gap-toothed smile and matted gray hair that resembled an untidy bird's nest.
Suddenly, several boys pushed through the crowd and began kicking the man, beating him and calling him names, spitting on his ragged form. All the while, the boys laughed joyously as if they were playing a game. It sickened Jeremiah to see the Lord’s chosen people acting in such a way. Had Jehovah’s Satans gone too far this time in their testing of Israel’s faith? Was Jerusalem past redemption? No, surely not, he was foolish to think such a thing could be true.

Hi. ^____^

Jeremiah stood, staring out the window before him. It was not a pleasant sight to see through the open space, but then again, was Jerusalem a pleasant place to see at all any more?

I think it would be good if you mentioned Jerusalem in the first sentence instead of the second one. That way, you have more of a contrast, so he’s looking and then he’s thinking about it.

A stream of people flowed in both ways down the broad street, their torn, drab garments hanging loosely on their bodies as was becoming even more sadly common as the year dragged on.

Too long sentence. Break up the info here and make the bolded bit clearer. I think you mean that there’s a food shortage or something? Only it’s a bit vague.

It was a sharp contrast to the rolling plains that surrounded the city of Anathoth where he had grown up; where it always smelled of fresh green grass. It had been a small place, barely earning the title of ‘city’.

The last sentence sounds as though you’re still talking about the plains around the city and not the city itself. Anyway, would there be fresh green grass around Anathoth? Not sand/rocky desert? Fresh green grass doesn’t seem the sort of thing to find in Israel.

The future rested on his shoulders, not the past. Therefore, he had to focus on the present.

The first sentence is slightly ambiguous and the last sentence is redundant. Take out the last sentence and reword the first to something like, “It was the future that rested on his shoulders and not the past.” The way you have it here makes it sound as though the future could rest on the past as well as Jeremiah’s shoulders.


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This was quite well written and easy to read. You had some good descriptions, but also a lack of colour. If the city is so dusty, you could mention the type of dust -- is it grey, brown, yellow, white? Also the colour of people's clothes. Adding some colour in will help your descriptions as they're very good already.

However, as a first chapter, I think this needs more to it. There isn't anything in it that would make me particularly want to read further. I mean, there's nothing bad about this, just nothing outstanding that grabs my attention. Add in more action, conflict, convice us that we won't be able to rest until we read on and find out what happens.

First chapters suck. A lot. I hate them. >_<


PM me if you have any questions!

:O A crusades story?! Can this be?! You've got extra attention from me now ...The Middle Ages are my favourite period in history..

Jeremiah stood, staring out the window before him. It was not a pleasant sight to see through the open space, but then again, was Jerusalem a pleasant place to see at all any more? * I like it..it sets the scene really well and gets my interest.*

The street beside his small house was bustling with activity. A stream of people flowed in both ways down the broad street, their torn, drab garments hanging loosely on their bodies as was becoming even more sadly common as the year dragged on. Their feet kicked up dust that swirled in the air, making it difficult to see. *I would perhaps suggest describing the dust getting in his eyes or lungs..just something extra.* An occasional ox-pulled cart rolled through the crowd, the beasts of burden making all kinds of noises to show their own frustration, mirrored by that of their drivers as they were forced to move ever so slowly through the growing crowd.

He could smell the scent of animal dung from the stable beside his house, mixed with that of breakfast being cooked in the homes across the street. It made a strange smell altogether, wonderful yet rancid at the same time, something unique; the smell of the city that was his home.

It was a sharp contrast to the rolling plains that surrounded the city of Anathoth where he had grown up; where it always smelled of fresh green grass. It had been a small place, barely earning the title of ‘city’. The majority of the population had been priests. He had trained to become a priest himself, and even succeeded before he was called to Jerusalem. That had been a simple life. This was yet another sharp contrast to his present position. However, that was the past, and it was behind him. The future rested on his shoulders, not the past. Therefore, he had to focus on the present.

Pushing both memories of the past and thoughts of the present out of his mind, Jeremiah refocused his attention on the busy street. The dust cleared just enough for him to spot a beggar on the street corner, crying out for the passerby to show mercy and drop a coin at his feet. He watched the beggar for a while as the man came in and out of view due to the swirling sand and dirt that erupted into the air under every man’s footstep. The beggar’s ragged clothes must not have been washed in months, and they hung loosely on his old and frail body, as if the man had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time; the man's body was in the same condition. He was far from handsome, with his gap-toothed smile and matted gray hair that resembled an untidy bird's nest.

Suddenly, several boys pushed through the crowd and began kicking the man, beating him and calling him names, spitting on his ragged form. All the while, the boys laughed joyously as if they were playing a game. It sickened Jeremiah to see the Lord’s chosen people acting in such a way. Had Jehovah’s Satans gone too far this time in their testing of Israel’s faith? Was Jerusalem past redemption? No, surely not, he was foolish to think such a thing could be true.

I liked it. I liked it alot. The only have two complaints...
1) I wasn't sure if it was the beggar or the man that the boys were kicking...just a small thing though.
2) I want to read more! Not really a complaint but still...

Overall very well written and punctuated..good job!