Young Writers Society

November 1, 1989 East Berlin
I doubt you will ever read this, but I need you to know what happened that day. It was August 5 when you left; I was to leave on the 15. You told me that everything would be ready by then. We knew it was getting bad in the East and you told me that the West was safer. It meant leaving my family and going away. We never knew the wall would be built, two days before my departure. I couldn’t get past the guards; I couldn’t get out of East Berlin.
You remember when we met? I was 16, you were 19, and the world was ours. I was a shy little school girl and you were a polite young man. It was the beginning of the 60’s and everything was new, but in Berlin it was strained. Communism was falling fast and hard on our beautiful city, and we were stuck in the middle. My parents were pro-communism, unlike many in Berlin, but I wasn’t.
When we first met by that fountain in West Berlin you annoyed me, do you remember that? You teased me and you picked on me, and I fell for it. I loved every second of your craziness. You loved me and when you asked me to marry you, I said yes. My parents were outrages, but you came from good blood, so it was allowed.
We were so happy, so young and then things got worse. People starting fleeing to the West, for safety, I knew we had to go too. You thought that I would be safe in the East for a few days, while you prepared things. Things didn’t work out well, though. I woke up on August 13, and no one was going anywhere. They blocked any traveling and they cut off communication. I cried night after night, I wouldn’t be able to see you again, my dearest.
Only a short time later I found out I was pregnant. Only 9 months later and I had a beautiful little girl. I named her Arabella, you always loved that name. For some reason I believed that there was a chance they would take the wall down, just for me and you. Everyone on our side of the wall was mourning the loss of their family on the other side, even to this day they still mourn. I would like to say that we were happy, but we weren’t. Every day Arabella would ask about her father, she has never stopped asking.
Our little girl is 28, married with children. I may be 45, but I’ve never loved again, I will never love again. As for Arabella her husband and amazing, and our grandchildren are darling. She has a 6 year old named Mila and a 4 year old named Lara. They are two adorable little girls. It hurts to think that you have never met them. It hurts to think that this god forsaken wall has kept us apart. I can’t fight it anymore to write to you. I’m sure you will never see this letter. If you do, know that the day that allow us to I will see you in the West.
Waiting in the East,
Your Darling Lenore


My mother wrote this letter only 8 days before they allowed us into the East. When we made it into West Berlin my father was waiting for us by the fountain where they met. He locked at mother and embraced her, holding tight. He looked at me awestruck and mom told him the story. She cried, I cried, dad cried, our whole family was elated. We watched the wall fall to the ground. Communism had fell and we had survived.
Dad had never married, his love always remained, and we never separated again. Until the day my mother died she never went back into the East. I think she was afraid they would build a wall again, to keep her there. Dad left us only months after mom, after years apart, they had to be together. Someday when my girls are old and grey, I’ll tell them about grandma and grandpa. Maybe someday I won’t be afraid to cross that border and maybe I’ll face the remains of the forsaken wall and I will write My own graffiti on that wall.

I do admit, I'm a sucker for a good Historical story but get easily bored of all the bad ones. Thank goodness I stuck through for this one. My corrections and notes in green.

November 1, 1989 East Berlin
I note that although the story is titled 'Dear Berlin' you don't have a dear in the begining. Even if you don't wish to use the charecters names you could always say 'Dear Love' or you could actually use 'Dear Berlin'.
I doubt you will ever read this, but I need you to know what happened that day. It was August 5 when you left; I was to leave on the 15. You told me that everything would be ready by then. We knew it was getting bad in the East and you told me that the West was safer. It meant leaving my family and going away. We never knew the wall would be built, two days before my departure. I couldn’t get past the guards; I couldn’t get out of East Berlin. More details on that day. How did she feel about this? Were her parents there to comfort her?
You remember when we met? I was 16, you were 19, and the world was ours. I was a shy little school girl and you were a polite young man. It was the beginning of the 60’s and everything was new, but in Berlin it was strained. Communism was falling fast and hard on our beautiful city, and we were stuck in the middle. My parents were pro-communism, unlike many in Berlin, but I wasn’t.
When we first met by that fountain in West Berlin you annoyed me, do you remember that? You teased me and you picked on me, and I fell for it. I loved every second of your craziness. You loved me and when you asked me to marry you, I said yes. My parents were outrages, but you came from good blood, so it was allowed.
We were so happy, so young and then things got worse. People starting fleeing to the West, for safety, I knew we had to go too. You thought that I would be safe in the East for a few days, while you prepared things. Things didn’t work out well, though. I woke up on August 13, and no one was going anywhere. They blocked any traveling and they cut off communication. I cried night after night, I wouldn’t be able to see you again, my dearest.
Only a short time later I found out I was pregnant. Only 9 months later and I had a beautiful little girl. I named her Arabella, sinceyou always loved that name. For some reason I believed that there was a chance they would take the wall down, just for me and you. Everyone on our side of the wall was mourning the loss of their family on the other side, even to this day they still mourn. I would like to say that we were happy, but we weren’t. Every day Arabella would ask about her father, andshe has never stopped asking.
Our little girl is 28, married with children. I may be 45, but I’ve never loved again, I will never love again. I'd make this 'and I never will. As for Arabella, her husband and amazing, and our grandchildren are darling. She has a 6 year old named Mila and a 4 year old named Lara. They are two adorable little girls. This seems a tiny bit unneccesary to me. If you'd like to keep it, write more. It hurts to think that you have never met them. It hurts to think that this god forsaken wall has kept us apart. I can’t fight it anymore to write to you. I’m sure you will never see this letter. If you do, know that the day that allow us to I will see you in the West.
Waiting in the East,
Your Darling Lenore


My mother wrote this letter only 8 EEp! Never use a number in a story. Use eight. Spell it out. days before they allowed us into the East. When we made it into West Berlin my father was waiting for us by the fountain where they met. He locked at mother and embraced her, holding tight. He looked at me awestruck and mom told him the story. She cried, I cried, dad cried, our whole family was elated. We watched the wall fall to the ground. Communism had fell and we had survived.<3
Dad had never married, his love always remained, and we never separated again. Until the day my mother died she never went back into the East. I think she was afraid they would build a wall again, to keep her there. Dad left us only months after mom, after years apart, they had to be together. Someday when my girls are old and grey, I’ll tell them about grandma and grandpa. Maybe someday I won’t be afraid to cross that border and maybe I’ll face the remains of the forsaken wall and I will write My own graffiti on that wall. I'm not a fan of this ending. She'll right graffiti on a pile of former wall? I don't have any suggestions for this except to revise it.

Thanks for giving me the oppurtunity to read this! It was very well written! Keep writing!

~Crafty~

Hey there! This was very beautiful and heart warming, I have to say. Like the other reviewer, I'm a sucker for a good historical fiction as well. I'm also working on my german fluency and have taken 3 Advanced Placement history courses, one of which was focused on European history, so I'm a good resource for all of this. It is very nice to see a German short story that does not take place during the Holocaust.

I'm going to nitpick you about some of the small historical and cultural inaccuracies of this whole thing, first off.

November 1, 1989 East Berlin

In German, this would be written 1 November 1989. In Germany (and I believe all of Europe, for that matter), they put the day before the month. this actually makes more sense, if you think about it.

We never knew the wall would be built, two days before my departure.

The wall was not erected in a day; it was originally a barbed wire fence.

Communism was falling fast and hard

At this time, the entire bulk of East Germany was communist. It wasn't as though it was "taking over." It was already very much there by the time the wall was constructed.

My parents were pro-communism

Wouldn't you just say "my parents were communists?" Also, this would have been very odd. Basically all of Eastern Germany was opposed to the communist bloc.

Only a short time later I found out I was pregnant

This would have been very, very risque for a woman of the 1940s.

I named her Arabella

This is not a German name. Neither is "Lenore."

Maybe someday I won’t be afraid to cross that border and maybe I’ll face the remains of the forsaken wall and I will write My own graffiti on that wall

There is no longer even a border between the two "countries," so why would she be afraid? And the wall is a historical monument, basically, so it would be sort of uncouth to write on it..

Many of the sentences had poor punctuation. One more critique - Why would the woman write this to her old love, anyway? Wouldn't he be kind of aware of the entire situation, anyway?

One last thing (haha). This is pretty ideal, isn't it? Like, almost unbelievable. Especially that the father would never again marry. Almost not how it works in the real world.

At any rate, I enjoyed reading this and it was very beautiful.

Lena

Hey! It is wonderful and beautiful.. What i'm gonna tell u is that you have an extraordinary charm of narration.
You've made emotions of history possibly lovable here! U've made ur point clear that love is what it will remain out n out in ages! It is lovely and awesome! And the other comments made here r very important to be successful as a writter! But don't forget that don't let anything hinder ur flow while your writing.. Cuz that elegance is natural in u!

Hey again I love the historical event you're working with here, the East-West Berlin divide is so little done and yet so interesting and very workable. I don't think your execution is as strong as it could have been though. I didn't find your characters particularly endearing and I felt the piece could have included a lot more culture and borrowed a lot more from the history side as opposed to the romantic. Don't get me wrong, you have a very touching tale from that point of view but I felt it could have been deeper and more moving.

Hopefully I'll be able to outline some of these issues in the line by line:

I doubt you will ever read this, but I need you to know what happened that day. It was August 5 when you left; I was to leave on the 15. You told me that everything would be ready by then. We knew it was getting bad in the East and you told me that the West was safer. It meant leaving my family and going away. We never knew the wall would be built, two days before my departure. I couldn’t get past the guards; I couldn’t get out of East Berlin.

I'd like to see more sentence variation here. They're all rather short and snappy sentences which is great for building the tension but just one medium or longer length sentence would make your flow stronger and give a contrast with the shorter ones. It would make your paragraph less stiff.

You remember when we met? I was 16, you were 19, and the world was ours. I was a shy little school girl and you were a polite young man. It was the beginning of the 60’s and everything was new, but in Berlin it was strained. Communism was falling fast and hard on our beautiful city, and we were stuck in the middle. My parents were pro-communism, unlike many in Berlin, but I wasn’t.
When we first met by that fountain in West Berlin you annoyed me, do you remember that? You teased me and you picked on me, and I fell for it. I loved every second of your craziness. You loved me and when you asked me to marry you, I said yes. My parents were outrages outraged, but you came from good blood, so it was allowed.

This is a little bit too telling. Try to shake it up a big. Be vaguer. Be more detailed. Be more private. This letter should read like a private one between lovers. It would be amazing if you can make the reader feel almost guilty for reading such a private correspondence.

We were so happy, so young and then things got worse. [We know this. Saying things got worse, stating things so plainly detracts from the piece. It's like saying war is bad. The reader knows it already and it's effective when implied or left unsaid.] People starting started fleeing to the West, for safety, I knew we had to go too. You thought that I would be safe in the East for a few days, while you prepared things. Things didn’t work out well, though. I woke up on August 13, and no one was going anywhere. They blocked any traveling travelling and they cut off communication. I cried night after night, I wouldn’t be able to see you again, my dearest.

This is all quite plainly stated. I'd like to see more emotion, more passion. I'd like to hear every little detail of how she felt when she first saw the wall/ heard about it. Did she hear about it first and then have to see it with her own eyes to believe it? Or was she full of hope and excitement, counting down those last few days and then suddenly, there it was. Where's the anger and the frustration your narrator felt?

Only a short time later I found out I was pregnant. Only 9 months later and I had a beautiful little girl. I named her Arabella, you always loved that name. For some reason I believed that there was a chance they would take the wall down, just for me and you. [I like this line.] Everyone on our side of the wall was mourning the loss of their family on the other side, even to this day they still mourn. I would like to say that we were happy, but we weren’t. Every day Arabella would ask about her father, she has never stopped asking.

Alright. Is this the first letter she's written or has she tried to write before? Try to give us a vague idea of whether this is the first time she's telling him about his daughter.

Our little girl is 28, married with children. I may be 45, but I’ve never loved again, I will never love again. As for Arabella her husband and is amazing, and our grandchildren are darling. She has a 6 year old named Mila and a 4 year old named Lara. They are two adorable little girls. It hurts to think that you have never met them. It hurts to think that this god forsaken wall has kept us apart. I can’t fight it anymore to write to you. I’m sure you will never see this letter. If you do, know that the day that allows us to I will see you in the West.
Waiting in the East,

Your Darling Lenore

Alright so the letter felt too impersonal but I love the ideas behind it. I just want to see you fill it with passion and a more mature sounding narrator. Currently she lacks personality and sounds a little young for someone with a daughter so old. And where's the culture? I'd expect her to talk of the riots and all the trouble that surrounded the building of the wall. And of course there was build up to it. The wall wasn't built in a day!

I'm just going to say I didn't like that end part at all. I think this is much stronger as just the letter, without any tidy closing of gaps and the like. This has the potential to be such a powerful piece and the best of those often leave the ending to the reader's imagination. I don't have many more comments so I'll leave you for now but feel free to ask me any questions you might have.

Heather xxx

This was a very interesting piece of fiction; usually they bore me to death but yours captivated my attention. I would write down all your grammatical errors but the reviewers before me beat me to it I like the tragic beginning and the hopeful ending. The letter, I think, should be a bit more detailed or you should include a passage in front of the letter from when the parents were seperated.

Overall, I enjoyed it. I think that the end could've been less rushed but you did a pree good job!

good work darling! I've put all my corrections in purple and any punctuation things in red.

November 1, 1989 East Berlin

I doubt you will ever read this, but I need you to know what happened that day. It was August 5 when you left; I was to leave on the 15. You told me that everything would be ready by then. We knew it was getting bad in the East and you told me that the West was safer. It meant leaving my family and going away. We never knew the wall would be built, two days before my departure. I couldn’t get past the guards; I couldn’t get out of East Berlin.

You remember when we met? I was 16, you were 19, and the world was ours. I was a shy little school girl and you were a polite young man. It was the beginning of the 60’s and everything was new, but in Berlin it was strained. Communism was falling fast and hard on our beautiful city, and we were stuck in the middle. My parents were pro-communism, unlike many in Berlin, but I wasn’t.

When we first met by that fountain in West Berlin you annoyed me, do you remember that? You teased me and you picked on me, and I fell for it. I loved every second of your craziness. You loved me and when you asked me to marry you, I said yes. My parents were outrages, but you came from good blood, so it was allowed.
outraged
We were so happy, so young and then things got worse. People starting fleeing to the West, for safety, I knew we had to go too. You thought that I would be safe in the East for a few days, while you prepared things. Things didn’t work out well, though. I woke up on August 13, and no one was going anywhere. They blocked any traveling and they cut off communication. I cried night after night, I wouldn’t be able to see you again, my dearest.

Only a short time later I found out I was pregnant. Only 9 months later and I had a beautiful little girl. I named her Arabella, you always loved that name. For some reason I believed that there was a chance they would take the wall down, just for me and you. Everyone on our side of the wall was mourning the loss of their family on the other side, even to this day they still mourn. I would like to say that we were happy, but we weren’t. Every day Arabella would ask about her father, she has never stopped asking.

Our little girl is 28, married with children. I may be 45, but I’ve never loved again, I will never love again. As for Arabella her husband and amazing, and our grandchildren are darling. She has a 6 year old named Mila and a 4 year old named Lara. They are two adorable little girls. It hurts to think that you have never met them. It hurts to think that this god forsaken wall has kept us apart. I can’t fight it anymore to write to you. I’m sure you will never see this letter. If you do, know that the day that allow us to I will see you in the West.

Waiting in the East,

Your Darling Lenore



My mother wrote this letter only 8 days before they allowed us into the East. When we made it into West Berlin my father was waiting for us by the fountain where they met. He locked at mother and embraced her, holding tight. He looked at me awestruck and mom told him the story. She cried, I cried, dad cried, our whole family was elated. We watched the wall fall to the ground. Communism had fell and we had survived.

Dad had never married, his love always remained, and we never separated again. Until the day my mother died she never went back into the East. I think she was afraid they would build a wall again, to keep her there. Dad left us only months after mom, after years apart, they had to be together. Someday when my girls are old and grey, I’ll tell them about grandma and grandpa. Maybe someday I won’t be afraid to cross that border and maybe I’ll face the remains of the forsaken wall and I will write My own graffiti on that wall.

wow only one correction that's great! Is this a true story? Just out of pure interest.

No, it is not, I wrote this one day while I was watching a movie about the berlin wall.