Young Writers Society

This is a story I wrote for Lilymoore's contest and my prompt was this picture: http://rai-mond.deviantart.com/art/Loneliness-158731864 Enjoy!

I was dreaming a wonderful dream, I was dreaming of the fields in the summer, how I would run across them, greeting the warm wind…but it wasn’t the warm wind I was feeling, it was heat wafting into my window from the night. I smelled the burning before I heard the screams. I opened my eyes to my dark room, but the lights were on downstairs. There was shouting and my mother screaming.

I opened the door, crawling across the floor silently and coming to the stop of the staircase. Looking down, I saw them.. The Nazis, the spidery brand on their arms like a flickering flame, showing exactly who they were.

“Where are you taking him?” my mother screamed. “We haven’t done anything wrong!”

I watched a soldier fasted my mothers arms behind her back, his hands like iron grips. “I’m sorry.” I could almost hear the words he whispered into my mother’s ear through the cacophony, almost, but not quite.

“You’re going with him,” the first soldier holding my father snickered. “Quickly! Check upstairs!” he shouted to the rest of the soldiers that were invading our house like rodents.

“No!” my mother’s voice cried. I stood up and ran into the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind me. The smoke smell was stronger in here, and I stood up on the toilet, looking outside the window. There, was the synagogue down the street, burning, like a giant candle in the night. The burning candle was the only light, no moon shone to brighten the street, only a few stars were scattered across the indigo sky, all the rest were coverd by a gray blanket of cloud. I could see glass glistening on the street to my left, the fire reflecting off of the clear pieces that once were windows of a shop or home.

Glass shattering seemed to echo throughout the streets and shouts could be heard from the tiny room in which I was encaged. “Open up in there!” a voice said and I heard kicking on the door. I looked at the trash can by the toilet, only to see a pair of boots, my father’s boots sitting there. I slipped on the boots and stood on the counter.
Tears were filling my eyes. I was so scared, so terrified, what would they do to me if they caught me? Climb out the window, I thought. I looked out the window, the drop was long, but I should be able to make it.

I stepped on the windowframe, scrabbling to get out. The bangings on the door were getting louder, and I didn’t think the men would stop there. Eventually they would shoot, not caring if I remained dead or alive. The windowframe felt slippery as moisture from my hands slowly leaked onto the wood. Despite it being the middle of November I felt unusually hot, maybe it was the fires, or maybe it was just me. Maybe, it was the burning rage and fear that was trapped in my heart.

One, two, three. I counted half in my mind before I jumped. I felt as if I was flying, my heart was racing, maybe I wouldn’t have to land. Perhaps, I could just fly away from it all, just fly away from this terrible, dark night. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, all that came out of my mouth were moans. I hadn’t flown away, I had landed, and not rolled. I pulled my knees up to my stomach, hoping it would block the pain, but it didn’t. The pain was still there, clearer than ever, and so was the burning synagogue. I slowly rolled over to where a plank of wood lay, the wood that was going to be used to make me a tree house. I crawled behind it, closing my eyes and breathing softly. They wouldn’t find me now, I had to be safe.

* * * *

I woke up to the sun gleaming. The shouts had stopped, and all was quiet in the small town. I climbed out from under the board and stood up, my ten-year-old knees wobbling from laying for so long.

I walked to the gate to our backyard and opened it, a horrifying landscape greeting me. The synagogues, our places of worship were burned. The houses were filled with ash instead of happy families, shops were empty of their goods, and the street was littered with shards of glass. All because we were Jews.

Wow! This is great, especially for the escape part. I thought a kid like the lead will just stay at home but instead, he ran out of the house. Are you going to continue this?

Hi, Em. Since this only has one review I'm not gonna hold anything back.

I. NITPICKS

First of all, Reichskristallnacht, is spelled with an s after the c

“Where are you taking him?” my mother screamed. “We haven’t done anything wrong!”

Here, my should be capitalized because of the question mark.

“No!” my mother’s voice cried.

The same here because of the exclamation point my should be capitalized. There are other pieces of dialogue in here where you haven't punctuated it correctly but if you read through it, you'll see where they are.

There, was the synagogue down the street, burning, like a giant candle in the night.

What's with all the commas? You can take out the one after there and the one after burning I think. I'm not one hundred percent sure about that.

I was so scared, so terrified, what would they do to me if they caught me?

Put a period after terrified and capitalize What

“One,” two, “three!”

"One, two, three!"

Shops were empty of goods, everything was broken.

Should be a semi colon not a comma

Reichkristallnacht had come, The Night of Shattered Glass had lead to destruction of my home.

Misspelled it again

II OVERALL

I think you could have done a lot better with the description. I couldn't really picture anything about this. I didn't even know if your MC was a boy or a girl. There were a lot of times I had to think about what was going on because there wasn't much detail. I had to make it up as I went along. When you write a historical fiction piece especially about the Holocaust (or prefacing the Holocaust) the reader wants to be able to imagine themselves there, in the story. But I couldn't really do that because the most in depth description you gave was the dad's blue boots. I think the fact that it was so short and so much stuff was going on also took away from the details.

You could also show things through the dialogue. Not only the words that they say but how they say them. Like here for an example:

“You’re going with him,” the soldier snickered.

Instead of telling us that he snickered. Say something like: the soldier cackled, his black mustache dancing above his lip. Beside him his partner was quiet waiting for an order.
That shows us that the man with the mustache (a feature that makes him stand out from the other soldier) is in charge and that he is enjoying torturing this poor mother.

It was a good story and I love reading about this time period but the absence of detail made me think it was a little rushed. I hope this helps and I'm sorry if any of that sounded harsh.
~peanut~

Hey there Forest! I'll be reviewing your work today, you can see my suggestions in this purple.

Forestqueen808 wrote:
I smelled the burning before I heard the screams. Okay, good opening line to a certain extent. It's dramatic, yes, but a bit too soon. I think you could start by taking through the end of a dream, and then the "I smelled the burning before I heard the screams." might sound more sudden. I opened my eyes to my dark room, but the lights were on downstairs. There was shouting and my mother screaming… I don't like ellipses (...), my personal opinion of them is that they're an awful writing technique. They're meant to have the effect of a hesitant, thought provoking bit, but they're always used to flow into the next paragraph - as you have done - and they're completely out of place. Replace it with a period/full stop.

I opened the door, crawling across the floor silently. I looked down my staircase, that was when I saw them. I opened, I looked. Okay, this is a problem I sometimes have. You're starting most of your sentences with "I did this..." followed by "I did that..." and it's sometimes off-putting to read. I find you can combat them by writing somethins such as: I opened the door, crawling across the floor silently and coming to the stop of the staircase. Looking down, I saw them. Sounds better no? The Nazis, the spidery brand on their arms like a flickering flame, showing exactly who they were. I like the desciption of that, very original.

“Where are you taking him?” my mother screamed. “We haven’t done anything wrong!” Well punctuated dialogue.

“You were born,” one of the soldiers growled. That's quite a stereotypical view of Nazi soldiers in the war, you have to remember that what they did was perceived as evil and not how they acted about doing it. I think it would be far more individual if you had an apologetic soldier who was taking "him" because he simply had no other choice. You know? Another came to my mother grabbing her arms.

“You’re going with him,” the soldier snickered. “Go upstairs, children are sleeping up there I imagine.” This bit seems like an unnatural piece of dialogue, because the soldier's "I imagine" makes out as though you're forcefully trying to move plot along. You should write, "And check upstairs too!" or something.

“No!” my mother’s voice cried. I stood up and ran into the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind me. The smoke
smell was stronger in here, and I stood up on the toilet, looking outside the window. There, was the synagogue down the street, burning, like a giant candle in the night. Good historical knowledge and simile, but describe it more. Drag out the time, drag out the drama. It'll keep your reader hooked.

Glass shattering seemed to echo throughout the streets and shouts could be heard from the tiny room in which I was encaged. Good vocab choice. “Open up in there!” a voice said and I heard kicking on the door. I looked at the trash can by the toilet, only to see a pair of boots, my father’s boots sitting there. I slipped on the bright blue boots (Are you sure Bright blue is right for context?) and stood on the counter.
Tears were filling my eyes. I was so scared, so terrified, I'd put: "terrified infact" instead, but upto you. what would they do to me if they caught me? Climb out the window, I thought. I looked out the window, the drop was long, but I should be able to make it. That's heroic!

I stepped on the window frame, scrabbling to get out. The bangings on the door were getting louder, and I didn’t think the men would stop there. Eventually they would shoot, not caring if I remained dead or alive. That's a good steep in tension, but it's not spent long enough on. You're story is jumping through plot quite fast and to imagine it with a vague description isn't the best of things. Perhaps add a bit more in. What does the window frame feel like under your gripping fingers? etc.
“One,” two, “three!” Punctuated wrong. Either format One, two, three in italics or put the whole thing in one set of speech marks: "One, two, three!" I counted half in my mind before I jumped, rolling on the grass. Where's the impact? It feels like you've left it out. I couldn’t breathe, all that came out of my mouth were moans. I rolled over to where a plank of wood lay, the wood that was going to be used to make me a tree house. I crawled behind it, closing my eyes and breathing softly. In terms of character, that's one of the best lines. Good emotive portrayal and development. They wouldn’t find me now, I had to be safe.

* * * *

I woke up to the sun gleaming. The shouts had stopped, and all was quiet in the small town in Germany. People would've gathered where you are, you don't have to clutter your line with two "in"s to reassure them. I climbed out from under the board and stood up, my ten-year-old knees wobbling from laying for so long. Good idea of appearance implied here.

I walked to the gate to our backyard and opened it, a horrifying landscape greeting me. Well written. The synagogues, our places of worship were burned. The houses were burned, glass was everywhere. Shops were empty of goods, everything was broken. Okay, I think here would be a good ending. Leave us with the image of destruction, a cliff-hanger that makes us angry, that makes us empathise and feel your MC's pain, you know? You could say as an ending of this paragraph: "Simply because we were Jews." There would be the impact of the short, sharp sentence too.

I walked down the street, the sound of glass breaking was beneath my feet with every tiny step. The synagogue was gone, the base of the beautiful walls were all that remained. This line just seems dragged on and I feel like you're repeating, I'd scratch it.

I leaned against the wall, sliding down. I laid my face onto my knees. Reichkristallnacht had come, The Night of Shattered Glass had lead to destruction of my home. This just makes me ask questions like, is she crying? Instead of leaving me with the image of destruction that you could've done.

So, so!
I really enjoyed this piece and I hope you take in some of my points to improve! Keep writing and PM me if you like my reviews and would like more more more! :]
~Ben

Hey forest! Here for one of your reviews!

There, was the synagogue down the street, burning, like a giant candle in the night.

You’ve got a lot of commas here. The only one you really need here is the one after ‘street.’

“One,” two, “three!”

Your use of dialogue marks is really weird. You only need one in front of “one” and one behind “three.”


Okay, I love to see that you went historical on this. I love historical stories when they’re done well. “Slaughterhouse Five” is one of my favorite books of all time. But I’m really impressed at the angle you took the prompt to.

There were a few things I think you should worry about. The first is that a lot of your sentences started the same way: with the word “I.” It can make reading the story very tedious. Another thing to be careful of is that you don’t leave out little words that help clean a story up. Sometimes simple articles like “the” and “a” can make things read with a better flow.

But overall, this is good it just needs a little spit shine!

~lilymoore