Young Writers Society

I was pushed forward and out of the parade. Women’s white gowns brushing my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me, but when I looked back I didn’t see a police officer. A young woman held me by the scruff of my dress collar, and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down, looking at me with disbelief. Her sign read, “Canadian Women Suffrage”.

My heart raced, with fear, anxiousness and excitement, it was such a thrill being part of the suffrage. Holding our signs high, and yelling with all our might! Women are people too! I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman. I gave her a nasty look, and she started yelling at me.

“How could you put yourself in danger like that little girl, you could have got your self arrested or, steps on, or hurt! You shouldn’t have been there” I looked over her shoulder at the parade, women dressed in long white dresses, and hats holding signs and yelling. Mean on the sidelines yelling at them, to go bake to the kitchen and police slowly cirling them, the fight would start soon. I wanted to be with them! I wanted to help make a difference. I wanted to fight back! But I was just a kid, nobody ever takes us seriously, especially this woman, yelling at me.

I picked my self up of the sidewalk and starting walking home the young women still yelling at me, saying not to walk away from her like that. I stopped, but not for her, I stopped for me. I stopped and turned toward her. Her hands on hips, I walked towards her smiled and ran back to the suffrage. The women screaming after me the whole time, I picking up a sign and started yelling again! If I died this way, then let it be!

Young Rosie Plummer died that day, at only age 12. She gave her life for something she believed in deeply. She was mulled by a police officer and later died in hospital.

As an American, I'm not really familiar with the Canadian Women's suffrage movements, so I can't offer any comments on historical accuracy and the like.

On the writing though, I can kind of see where you're trying to go, with the vague first person, and then the later profiling of the narrator in third person. However, sometimes vague is a little too vague (I have problems with that myself). To grab the reader's interest, you might want to give a little bit more of a background, a little more personality to your character.

Expand, edit; this has great potential to turn into something awesome!

Heyo~
I'm assuming this is for school, since you asked me to edit your free write, and this is all I found :]
I agree with the last person- too vague. I know it can only be a page double spaced, but try and find a way for more character development. Trust me, it's what McKenzie focuses on. If there's no character development, we feel no loss when she dies. With more character development, you can get the emotions going and make it into a chilling story.

There were a few spelling and grammar errors, but if you want more detail, talk to me in person tomorrow. One thing I will point out, though, at the end, was "mulled." Mull means to think about something pretty much, but I'm assuming you meant to say "mauled." But I wouldn't even use the word maul because to maul is to attack with the claws and teeth, and I'm pretty sure the officer didn't do that.

Overall, it's a start. Try to do the best with the amount of space you're allowed.~

Hello there,

I was really touched by the story and it has a great potential but here are my two cents of a constructive critic.

Firs the nit-picks

I was pushed forward and out of the parade. Women’s white gowns brushing my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me, but when I looked back I didn’t see a police officer. A young woman held me by the scruff of my dress collar, and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down, looking at me with disbelief. Her sign read, “Canadian Women Suffrage”.



My heart raced, with fear, anxiety and excitement, it was such a thrill being part of the suffrage. Holding our signs high, and yelling with all our might! Women are people too! I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman. I gave her a nasty look, and she started yelling at me.



“How could you put yourself in danger like that little girl, you could have got your self arrested or, steps on, or hurt! You shouldn’t have been there” I looked over her shoulder at the parade, women dressed in long white dresses, and hats holding signs and yelling. Men on the sidelines yelling at them, to go back to the kitchen and police slowly cirling them, the fight would start soon. I wanted to be with them! I wanted to help make a difference. I wanted to fight back! But I was just a kid, nobody ever takes us seriously, especially this woman, yelling at me.



I picked my self up of the sidewalk and starting walking home the young woman still yelling at me, saying not to walk away from her like that. I stopped, but not for her, I stopped for myself. I stopped and turned toward her. Her hands on her hips, I walked towards her, smiled and ran back to the suffrage. The woman screaming after me the whole time, I picked up a sign and started yelling again! If I died this way, then let it be!

Young Rosie Plummer died that day, at only age 12. She gave her life for something she believed in deeply. She was mulled by a police officer and later died in hospital.

Also, don't only say that she felt thrilled etc., show it, as in she felt her blood pumping faster than ever or somehing along those lines. Perhaps more details about the blur and fast paced parade? More about those women? Like, they all had similar expressions carved on their faces with the knife of determination?


But in general, it's very honorable that you decided to write about it and also the simplicity your style comes is very easy to read and follow :3

Hello there,

I was really touched by the story and it has a great potential but here are my two cents of a constructive critic.

Firs the nit-picks

I was pushed forward and out of the parade. Women’s white gowns brushing my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me, but when I looked back I didn’t see a police officer. A young woman held me by the scruff of my dress collar, and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down, looking at me with disbelief. Her sign read, “Canadian Women Suffrage”.



My heart raced, with fear, anxiety and excitement, it was such a thrill being part of the suffrage. Holding our signs high, and yelling with all our might! Women are people too! I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman. I gave her a nasty look, and she started yelling at me.



“How could you put yourself in danger like that little girl, you could have got your self arrested or, steps on, or hurt! You shouldn’t have been there” I looked over her shoulder at the parade, women dressed in long white dresses, and hats holding signs and yelling. Men on the sidelines yelling at them, to go back to the kitchen and police slowly cirling them, the fight would start soon. I wanted to be with them! I wanted to help make a difference. I wanted to fight back! But I was just a kid, nobody ever takes us seriously, especially this woman, yelling at me.



I picked my self up of the sidewalk and starting walking home the young woman still yelling at me, saying not to walk away from her like that. I stopped, but not for her, I stopped for myself. I stopped and turned toward her. Her hands on her hips, I walked towards her, smiled and ran back to the suffrage. The woman screaming after me the whole time, I picked up a sign and started yelling again! If I died this way, then let it be!

Young Rosie Plummer died that day, at only age 12. She gave her life for something she believed in deeply. She was mulled by a police officer and later died in hospital.

Also, don't only say that she felt thrilled etc., show it, as in she felt her blood pumping faster than ever or somehing along those lines. Perhaps more details about the blur and fast paced parade? More about those women? Like, they all had similar expressions carved on their faces with the knife of determination?


But in general, it's very honorable that you decided to write about it and also the simplicity your style comes is very easy to read and follow :3

Hello there,

I was really touched by the story and it has a great potential but here are my two cents of a constructive critic.

Firs the nit-picks

I was pushed forward and out of the parade. Women’s white gowns brushing my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me, but when I looked back I didn’t see a police officer. A young woman held me by the scruff of my dress collar, and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down, looking at me with disbelief. Her sign read, “Canadian Women Suffrage”.



My heart raced, with fear, anxiety and excitement, it was such a thrill being part of the suffrage. Holding our signs high, and yelling with all our might! Women are people too! I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman. I gave her a nasty look, and she started yelling at me.



“How could you put yourself in danger like that little girl, you could have got your self arrested or, steps on, or hurt! You shouldn’t have been there” I looked over her shoulder at the parade, women dressed in long white dresses, and hats holding signs and yelling. Men on the sidelines yelling at them, to go back to the kitchen and police slowly cirling them, the fight would start soon. I wanted to be with them! I wanted to help make a difference. I wanted to fight back! But I was just a kid, nobody ever takes us seriously, especially this woman, yelling at me.



I picked my self up of the sidewalk and starting walking home the young woman still yelling at me, saying not to walk away from her like that. I stopped, but not for her, I stopped for myself. I stopped and turned toward her. Her hands on her hips, I walked towards her, smiled and ran back to the suffrage. The woman screaming after me the whole time, I picked up a sign and started yelling again! If I died this way, then let it be!

Young Rosie Plummer died that day, at only age 12. She gave her life for something she believed in deeply. She was mulled by a police officer and later died in hospital.

Also, don't only say that she felt thrilled etc., show it, as in she felt her blood pumping faster than ever or somehing along those lines. Perhaps more details about the blur and fast paced parade? More about those women? Like, they all had similar expressions carved on their faces with the knife of determination?


But in general, it's very honorable that you decided to write about it and also the simplicity your style comes is very easy to read and follow :3

Hi.

I don't know what the Canadian Women's Suffrage is either. Suppose that has something to do with me being half a world away.

Anyhow, i think this has potential. But i agree with Dianne Pen. It's so easy to "tell," but harder to, "show."

Because: "My heart raced, with fear, anxiousness and excitement." Is just boring.

"My heart, pounding in my chest, like it was a boxing glove trying to smash it's way out. " (Heart raced.)

"I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood, i could i feel the coppery taste of my own blood." (anxiousness)

Hope i helped.

~ T.K

EXCELLENT WORK!!!!! very good. I think this is very good. Although I did notice that you wrote "Mean on the sidelines" I think it should have been "Men on the sidelines"
But I may be wrong.

I think this was excellent. Good work. I think this was an excellent piece of writing. You are very good.

I think that if you keep working on writing you could do it as a living. Good work Darlin'!

Harpo

We just learned about this in history class! (I assume you mean suffrage in the title)

I think your opening line could be more grabbing, its not bad now but it could be better.

Women’s white gowns brushing my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me

There is a tense issue there, I would change brushing to brushed. I would suggest realizing something was grabbing the MC and then the MC screaming, because it doesn't really make sense why she suddenly thought she had been grabbed. Something like, I felt someone grabbing my colar and screamed, thinking the police had got me. Chronology, you know?

and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down

Only keep the second "and".

of the suffrage

Of the suffrage movement?

I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman

What? I'm not even sure what you are trying to say.

You shouldn’t have been there

Isn't she still there? Shouldn't the woman be saying "You shouldn't be there" ?

I don't think the girl should be swayed so easy, personally. Give her more of an inner conflict.

The ending is so surprising! I like how you bring it into reality. It was a cute story, just work on some of your phrasing.

Hello! Alright, so I think that this could be a nice section of the story when and if you expand on it. So, factually, I can't really give much of an input seeing that I don't know much about the Sufferage Movement in Canada. But just as a friendly reminder, make sure that your facts are straight and reliable. Okay, so onward with the review...

I found quite a few mistakes with spelling and some grammar issues as well. I also noticed that at times your tense would change, then go back to what it was before. Just remember to double check your work as you go.

As characters go, it was hard to understand what was going on. Yes it was of a rally but there was not a lot of description of what was going on. It was just told told us. We, as readers, want to know about the MC. What does she look like, what's her name? What are her hobbies/goals/ambitions etc? We want to feel as if the MC is real.
So, my corrections will be in parenthesis' next the word etc.


Report this postThe Womens Suffage Child
by WelcomingException on Mon Nov 15, 2010 5:46 pm

I was pushed forward and out of the parade. Women’s white gowns brushing (brushed) my shoulders and waist, I screamed thinking the police had got me, but when I looked back I didn’t see a police officer. A young woman held me by the scruff of my dress collar, and pulled me to the road side and put her sign down,(She looked) looking at me with disbelief. Her sign read, “Canadian Women Suffrage”.



My heart raced,( no comma) with fear, anxiousness and excitement,(period) it was such a thrill being part of the suffrage. Holding our signs high, and yelling with all our might! Women are people too! I lost my limping sign while I was dragged out by this bewildred woman. I gave her a nasty look, and she started yelling at me.



“How could you put yourself in danger like that little girl, you could have got(gotten) your self arrested or, steps on, or hurt! You shouldn’t have been there” I looked over her shoulder at the parade, women dressed in long white dresses, and hats holding signs and yelling. Mean on the sidelines yelling at them, to go bake to the kitchen and police slowly cirling them, the fight would start soon. I wanted to be with them! I wanted to help make a difference. I wanted to fight back! But I was just a kid, nobody ever takes us seriously, especially this woman, yelling at me.



I picked my self (one word)up of the sidewalk and starting walking home the young women still yelling at me, saying not to walk away from her like that. I stopped, but not for her, I stopped for me. I stopped and turned toward her. Her hands on (her) hips, I walked towards her smiled and ran back to the suffrage. The women screaming after me the whole time, I picking up a sign and started yelling again! If I died this way, then let it be!

Young Rosie Plummer died that day, at only age 12. She gave her life for something she believed in deeply. She was mulled by a police officer and later died in hospital.











Overall, it was a nice start. Just use the suggestions given from other users and always re-read through your work. If you have any questions, feel free to message me. I hope I helped.
~Ballerina