Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25326117-20160805121605/@comment-28266772-20160805152755

Six bikes were parked out front, all of them with their owners. The six children glanced at one [another?] and nodded. They rode their bikes to the front lawn of an empty, refurbished house. The six kids: [replace colon with comma] two boys and four girls [another comma here] threw their bikes in [on] the front lawn and stomped up the porch of the house. The two boys, [not necessary – the names tell us they’re the two boys] Eric and Isaac stood at the front door while the girls stood by and watched. [new speaker new line] "Should we really be doing this?" Isaac asked Eric in a high-pitched, raspy voice, "I didn't even want to come here.  Are you sure this place is abandoned?"

"Uh yeah," Jessica, one of the four girls said. [don’t indent speech and don’t clarify that Jessica is a girl – the name makes it obvious]

"The place has been empty since last November," Angelica added.

"C'mon Isaac, we have to do this.  Do you want everybody at school thinking that you're a pussy?!" Eric tugged on '[it’s always a good idea to clarify kids’ ages in a story. Also what is Eric tugging on?]'

Isaac had shaken his head towards his best friend [awkward phrasing] as he went back to the doorknob. The ten-year-old boy shook the bronze handle with so much tension [awkward phrasing – basically ‘so’ requires a qualifier so what are you qualifying it with?] [also new speaker new line ->]"C'mon, don't keep us waiting, you wimps!" the four girls: [no colon and don’t repeat the names] Jessica, Angelica, Yuki and Naomi shouted from their spot on the porch. Two of the girls looked at each other and mocked both Eric and Isaac's nervous demeanor. One of the two girls [you keep repeating girls and boys – you can just say ‘one of them’ and people will know you’re referring to the girls in this context] sang the following song as both boys turned bright red with irritation, "Crybaby, crybaby, crybaby, cry, cry, cry!  Crybaby, crybaby, crybaby, cry, cry, cry!  That's all Isaac and Eric does, does, does!" [don’t think we need to know the actual song word by word – you can just say “taunted them with song” or something along those lines]

Isaac glared at the giggling girls and went back to fiddling with the bronze doorknob. Eric kept pestering his friend about breaking into the house while the girls continued their bullying. "C'mon Isaac, we have to get in there!"

"I am trying my best!" Isaac would respond [switched to conditional tense – stick to past] with annoyance in his voice. "I didn't even want to come here.  Are you sure this place is abandoned?"

...

"I am leaving this house and you better not stop me or else!"

"Or else what, you little bitch!"

"Mom, please don't!  I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, you little slut!  You'll wind up dead in a ditch somewhere, and nobody will cry once you're gone, you little bitch!"

I tried running up the stairs, but my dear mother stabbed me in the ankle. I felt hot agony course throughout my entire body and I soon hit my head on the second, wooden step with a loud bang. My mom, she loves me, right? Will she come back in the morning to take me to the hospital? Will my dear, innocent mother have to lie again? It's my fault! It's my entire fault!

...

"Hey Isaac! ISAAC!" Eric snaps [snapped] his fingers repeatedly in front of his friend's face. Isaac shakes [shook/ tense switch again] his head and sees [saw] the concerned look on Eric's face. [new "Isaac, let's find that journal, give it to the girls, and just get out of here, okay?!" Eric said with the color slowly flushing out of his face. Isaac laughs [laughed] and proceeds [proceeded] up the wooden stairs. [you gotta keep your tenses consistent]

...

<p class="MsoNormal">My mother really loves me. The new school year has started up and I am really [repetition of ‘really’] ecstatic. A new town, a new school and a new chance of starting over after last year's incidents. I don't want to go into detail about it, because mother doesn't like me talking about it. If she knew about half the stuff I did last year, she'd never forgive me.

<p class="MsoNormal">So, I can only continue through this dull, blue journal. Hopefully, things will get better. Mom and dad have to get back together. It was my fault that they are estranged. Why did I have to get mom involved with looking for dad. [question mark <-]

<p class="MsoNormal">Things mustn't get worse! I can't handle mom being mad at me any longer. She is the only parent I have left. I really don't want her and dad getting back together, even though I am contradicting what I said earlier. [eh?] I never liked the way my dad would make fun of my looks, he would always call me 'slut,' 'milk jugs,' 'melons' or 'whore' because my chest was too big.

<p class="MsoNormal">...

<p class="MsoNormal">"Eric, stop!" Isaac shouted to his best friend. Eric had smashed one of the windows open from the inside. Glass shards fell on the hardwood floor, nearly falling between Eric's toes. [new speaker new line] "Why did Eric have to wear sandals right in the middle of winter?  Why did Eric have to act like a weirdo?" Isaac thought as he pulled on his friend's flannel red shirt to keep him from going out the destroyed window. It seemed pretty useless since Isaac wasn't strong enough to keep Eric from going out the window. [repetition] 

<p class="MsoNormal">Eric crawled out through the broken window and now stood on the ledge of the house. Isaac was kicked in the chest by some huge gust; he screamed as he picked himself up. Isaac shrieked and Eric snapped out of his hypnotic trance. He froze and screamed '[third time you’ve said ‘screamed’ in three sentences – also the order of events here is not clear at all. Just seems like kids screaming while climbing through a window] 'out his friend and the four other girls' names. Isaac called Eric's name and Eric braved through the broken, glass window to the safety of the inside of the second floor. "Dude, what happened?" Eric demanded from Isaac.

<p class="MsoNormal">...

<p class="MsoNormal">I am about to go save my files, but there is a loud bang and my bulky monitor is suddenly on the carpeted floor, broken and laying on it's side with a severely cracked screen with a baseball right next to it. I heard a snicker and I glanced towards my door. There she is and I am about to demand, "Angelica, how could you-" I was unfortunately cut off with a snide remark.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Seriously, who's gonna read your crap?!" my little sister, Angelica exclaimed from the doorway. I love her dearly, well I have to love that obnoxious fourteen-year-old, because Mom said so. Mom is always raving about her horrible childhood and how her sisters and her were always at each others' [other’s] throats. I wish she would just shut up with those damned stories, because I'm tired of her always comparing Angelica and me to our damned aunts. We aren't Aunt Charlotte and Aunt Carrie!

<p class="MsoNormal">I am sorry why I am mad. Wait, no, I'm not! I have a damn right to be mad. Mom had Angelica sneak through my personal entries, things that I write down in private or share with people online through personal private messages. A lot of these people I am friends with through forums [repetition] and I really feel like I can connect with them, of course, I never plan to meet any of them in person. So, what did I have to worry about?

<p class="MsoNormal">  "You little wretch, get down here, NOW!"

<p class="MsoNormal">I tried hollering to my enraged mother through the vent. I knew it would come out gargled on the other side, but at least I didn't have to confront her. She always scares me when she is like this. "Mom...I...am...in...the...middle-" I tried to say, but she just yelled, no screeched those same awful, four words, "GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

<p class="MsoNormal">I didn't want to face her, but we all have to do things we don't like. That's something that I always learn over and over again in this house. If Mom or Angelica are mad, all hell breaks loose and I am stuck as their personal, punching bag. It's not right, but that's life. Life sucks!

<p class="MsoNormal">She said in her usual mischievous tone, "Mom want to speak to you now!" [start with speech then clarify who spoke] I swear, Angelica is like mom's personal lapdog. If anything goes wrong, Angelica always sneaks her way out of the punishment by breaking stuff, hurting herself or sucking up to mom. Mom is always too scared to punish her, so I get stuck with the consequences. I get up from my chair and I have no time to fight with her, because Mom wants TO talk with Me. [Major capitalization issues here]

<p class="MsoNormal">I walked down to the bottom of the staircase, then into the kitchen  and I am met with Mom in her usual fiery rage. She was coming at me with her fists tightly clinched and she bit her lower lip, turning the usual pink lip into a grotesque white. I tried to run up the stairs, but my mom grabbed my ankle and I landed face first on the first step. "Mommy...I'm sorry!" I tried to scream, but my mom was beyond listening. She yelled at me before dislocating my ankle with her unbearably tight grip, "Sorry isn't good enough, you little bitch!  How could you-"  I tuned my mom out, it was all I could do, and the pain of having my ankle eventually sprained would take me.

<p class="MsoNormal">I heard laughter from upstairs, I knew who it belonged to. It belonged to Angelica. She always loved seeing me suffer, because Mom was always on her side about everything. Mom was afraid of punishing Angelica from that day when she inflicted a bleeding, deep gash running across her stomach. She rushed my sister to the emergency room; the doctors saved her, but my mom was asked what had caused this. My mom somehow lied through her teeth and made the doctors pity her. She would always cry with those same dissembling tears as she repeated, "I'm a good mother!  How dare you call my parenting into question!  My daughters and I always have to deal with the stigma from you...people! [you need to end speech with another quote mark]

<p class="MsoNormal">I passed out, and I woke up in a white room, in a hospital. My sister, Angelica was sitting near my bed; she had a very upset and angry look on her face. I asked her why she was so moody and she just said, "They took her!"

<p class="MsoNormal">"Took who?" I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Who do you think, smartass?!"

<p class="MsoNormal">"Mom!"

<p class="MsoNormal">Angelica nodded and salty tears ran down her pale, heart-shaped face. "I hate you!" she said before getting up from her chair, slamming the door shut and headed to the cafeteria. I was left speechless. Angelica was mad at me for mom going away. My little sister hated me, because I had screamed. Angelica despised me, because somebody had called the police, who in turn kicked the door down. She hated my very guts and now she was out for my blood.

<p class="MsoNormal">...

<p class="MsoNormal">"Isaac, please don't..." I screamed as I tried to get my friend, Isaac [redundant] to get back to being himself. He had a crazy look in his eyes and he just couldn't [wouldn’t] let go of my neck. I heard his voice, well some voice. I don't think it was his, it was too soft and deep. It kept screaming at me as Isaac kept tightening his fingers around my throat, "You useless, good-for-nothing, wretched, waste of space, piece of crap!  You can't do anything right, except covering [cover] your own fucking ass!"

<p class="MsoNormal">I wondered what he or it was talking about. Why was it using my friend? Isaac usually didn't do anything like this. He would never purposefully hurt me. I kicked him in the groin, but that only seemed to tighten his grip around my throat, which is weird. If you usually kick some guy in the groin, he would usually let go of you and grovel in pain. I finally got my chance to get away, because Isaac seemed to be taking back control. His eyes flickered and I saw him stumble and fall backwards. '[you don’t really earn the whole ‘he’s possessed’ thing. Most people wouldn’t jump to this conclusion.]'

<p class="MsoNormal">I heard a voice that sounded like Isaac whisper, [new speaker new line] "Run...you fucking idiot!  Do you want her to get you, huh?!"

<p class="MsoNormal">I ran down the stairs, but Isaac kept chasing after me. His heavy footsteps followed after me. I ran to the empty kitchen, hoping to find something in the possibly empty drawers. What was going through my mind, I don't know. I did find something sharp, and I felt something icy cold against the tips of my fingers. I pulled it out and it was a pair of scissors, which were pretty rusty. "WHERE DA HELL ARE YOU?!" '[use italics to denote emphasis – not caps lock. Caps lock is terrible] I heard Isaac scream, his heavy footsteps and hands banging [banged]' against everywhere wall and door. I didn't know what to do. Would my best friend in the whole high world really kill me here?

<p class="MsoNormal">I heard a door slam open. The words of a faint voice screamed, "Mommy, please don't!" The shudders of the house's windows slamming back and forth in unison with the screaming, faint voice. "W...h...a...t...a...r...e...d...o...i...n...g...h...e...r...e!" [awkward styling]

<p class="MsoNormal">I passed out. There was some girl lying face down. I approached her, [and] she wasn't moving. Somehow, '[what do you mean somehow? He used his hands. Unless he’s telekinetic there’s really no other explanation]' I turned her over. She had a horrified expression on her face. I looked lower down and gasped. There was some things [something] sticking out of her chest, a teddy bear. I stomached it and pulled the teddy bear off [out]. There were a bunch of other things in there [like?], all of her innards...where were they? '[don’t just take a narrative and start asking random questions half way through like this. It’s a bad habit. Attribute an inner monologue to someone]'

<p class="MsoNormal">I soon got that answer as I stepped back into something squishy. Finally, I had lost all of my lunch at the mess of organs that I saw. [awkward phrasing]

<p class="MsoNormal">-

<p class="MsoNormal">So overall:

<p class="MsoNormal">1) Mechanical issues – spelling, punctuation, tense changes, formatting (don’t indent, and always start a new line when someone new starts talking, oh… and I’d suggest you don’t use double spacing. It’s an anachronistic formatting style from the age of type writers and has no place in the age of word processors. It existed because of mechanical and technical limitations that simply do not apply any more), phrasing, repetitions, redundancies etc. Basically your story needs to be proofread and you need to either use MS word or spellcheck.net to pick these sorts of problems out. As it is they’re quite problematic as they seriously hurt the flow.

<p class="MsoNormal">2) Style issues – your decision to interchange one story with another is cool but I don’t really connect with either one. You swap from third to first person most of the time but then for the last section you switch to first person – this kind of inconsistency doesn’t feel especially purposeful. Feels like it just happens due to a lack of attention. Also outside of that you don’t really paint a good picture – you just seem intent on describing, in sometimes laborious detail, events that aren’t super interesting.

<p class="MsoNormal">3) Story issues- I’m not a fan of the ‘abused’ child story because I feel like most of the time they don’t reflect the reality of maltreatment. More often than not I think they tend to actually reflect a sort of over-the-top inflation of teenagers’ perceptions of parenting. But anyway – even ignoring this problem I still think this story has no real connective tissue. Why is there a dead girl with a teddy bear in her stomach? Why is the house haunted when no one dies? Why are the kids breaking in? Why is one kid, but not the rest, possessed?

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">Overall it's an interesting idea but I feel like the execution is a bit off.