Modern Hermit Learning to Socialize

The next few weeks after that feel like they had been ripped out of some else’s life story and glued into mine. A little over a month ago, my closest companions had been my fish and my indignant manager. Now, I took the time to stop every morning and talk to Kevin on the stairs before he had to go off to the fabulous world of accounting. I visited Nina in the evenings. She introduced me to a bunch of foreign T.V. shows that she loved. We spent a lot of time cooking and tearing through her box set of 7 Vidas, which was like the Latin American version of Friends. She had to turn on the subtitles so that I could enjoy the show too. Whenever the translated subtitles didn’t do the actual dialogue justice, Nina would pause and give me a better translation. I didn’t find it annoying at all, in fact, a lot of the jokes went over my head until Nina explained why a certain Spanish word plays were funny in certain circumstances, or gave me the cultural background to understand why particular mannerisms or actions were simultaneously inappropriate and hilarious. She took me with her to the grocery store once, to Shane’s relief, to show me how to pick out the best the best cooking ingredients.

So, the main character in this story has social axiety but has recently made two friends in her appartment building. In this paragraph I wanted to show her learning to open up a bit more. What could I write here to show her lingering reclusiviness?

3-18-11 publishorperish

"As they walked, they talked about all of the things they’d always dreamt of. He told her that all his life he hoped he would find someone special; someone who truly meant the world to him. She was that person. He told her that he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. She smiled back, telling him that she, too, wanted nothing more than to spend her life with him. She loved him, there was no denying that. They leaned in toward one another to share a tender kiss.
That hot July day, spent on the beach would be a day she would never forget. She had never felt so happy and was more at peace with her own life, than ever before. He was every hope, wish and dream she ever had, all wrapped up in one. The only word to describe it was; bliss. "

This writing exercise was done in only a few minutes, but I’m basically wondering what you think of it? Would this make a good story, if continued/more detailed?

Vocab Quiz

In 2028 money is tripe. Only food and clean water are worth anything. The leaders are jussive and they hardly do anything. There are many riots and murders which are ignored. People in other countries quip at our failing society. Every day is a battle and the sun beats down relentlessly through the polluted sky. The cities look similar to the one in the movie Soylent Green. The easiest way to get food is to acquire an ovicide to kill eggs. The only source of water is a well in the middle of the city, which dries up in the summer. During this time the most murders and deaths occur.

Do you think I used the vocab words correctly or do they sound awkward?

A Random Cubical Object Other Wise Known As a Box

So I was walking though the park one day; and then that's when it happened. My dog was checking out the various mounds of melting snow. The grass underneath my feet went swush swush as I traveled over it. We came to another mound of snow, and as my dog was digging though it I saw some leather pointing out of the now. My dog sniffed it, looking at it, as if he was wondering if he should mark his scent upon it.
I pushed him away just so I could see what it was. "Darn those litters" I mumbled to myself. As I brushed away the half wet half ice half snow off, I noticed that mu dog had found a strange, leather-bound box.
I opened it, out of curiosity. As the hinges bend, and worked against each other, I could feel it creaking. I opened it. Out blasted a beam of light with a hologram like thing, "Ah!" I yelled.
"Please help us," the strange holographic lady said, "Whoever you are, you are our only hope, you must come and save us!"
"Aw crap, I don't want this kind of responsibility!" I quickly closed the box and burried it back into the snow, leaving it to guilt a different victim.

From one of my short stories, "A Wonderful Life"

Do these characters seem real and believable (especially the daughter)? Should more go into their description?

Jim and Juliet Carlson, often referred to by neighbors as the “Ken and Barbie” of their street, lay asleep in the master bedroom of their two-story suburban home. Jim, the co-owner and manager of the local sporting goods store “J and J Sports”, and the assistant coach of his son Adam’s little league baseball team, was known by many across the town as a stand-up, classy guy. He was a loving father, a good husband and a smart business owner. His wife, Juliet, was equally efficient and justly compatible. Like Jim she was also a co-owner of the store, but rarely had much to do with the business side of things. She would make her monthly appearances to double-check inventory and occasionally put her two-sense into the outlook of the store, but nothing more. Instead, Juliet spent the bulk of her days tending to their home and caring for their three children. She was a typical 1950s house wife, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Catherine, the couples’ eldest daughter of 15 years, often was what forced the most stress on their lives. She behaved just like any girl of that age would: she had a bad attitude towards them and her brother and sister, she dressed like a prostitute, and had become infatuated with boys. Nothing they would do to turn her around would help, and she was getting around the age when her actions would start to be met with serious consequences. Jim and Juliet thought it was only a matter of time before she was overcome with sex and drugs. But they still had time.

Yet another beginning of a story

The mission was simple: kill the president. The President of the World Federation had been ruling for sixty years with an iron fist. The technology of the day made life sustainable up to at least 400 years. Clearly he was not stepping down anytime soon. It was bad enough that he was president of the world, but he also kept the world in an impoverished state. There were few who actually had the luxuries of the rich. They all lived secluded from everyone else, but with plenty of room. The rest of the people were trapped together. Trash lay all around the streets with the other types of refuse. The plumbing systems were so confined and backed up that excrement lay all about the streets. Conditions were truly terrible for most people.
Axel lay in his bed silently. His entire room was pitch black. Nothing could be seen except the whites of his eyes. The entire house was silent. It should be it was 3:00 in the morning. Axel heard someone getting up in the room across from his and saw light coming from the hallway. Axel got up and got dressed. He went into the hallway and waited. A minute later Kira was out of her room and they went together out of the house. They walked a couple of blocks and entered what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse. At least it used to be. For the past few years that warehouse was used as a base of operations for the World Liberation Front.

Is this interesting to read? Does it set the story up well and draw you in?

4th Short Story Excerpt

“It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream,” I whisper to myself, repeating the phrase several times, hoping to make the phrase a reality. I know all too well that my dreams have an uncanny ability to come true when I wake up. I sit down on the edge of the toilet seat and bury my head in my hands.

Since I was a young girl, I thought that my dreams were special. I would see aspects of my life one night, and when I woke up the next morning the day would unravel just as it had in the dream. I thought it was a coincidence for years, or just a trick that my mind was playing on me. Sometimes it worked to my advantage; I saw myself meeting George, moving into our house, and giving birth to my son. Other times, like when I saw the death of my father, my gift was more of a curse. And no matter how much I tried to prevent it, the dreams always came true.

Do you think this is too out there or unrealistic? If so, is there any way I could change it to make it more believable?

Cell 413

The last thing I remember was running through Brooney Forest, when a gun went off and hit me in the side. I opened my eyes only to see a bright light right above me. I was in a cold dirty brick room with no windows, a small bed and a maroon colored door. I lifted my shirt just above my belly button and saw that my wound was covered by a bandage but it wasn’t sore. I walked up to the door and jiggled the handle but of course, it was locked. I wondered who had shot me and why they did. I hadn’t done anything wrong; I was just a seventeen year old going for a run. I knocked on the door and yelled until I couldn’t stand anymore. I went over to the bed and laid down and prayed that I would get out soon. I thought back to when I first moved here from Seattle, Washington, it was like it was yesterday.

This is the beginning paragraph to my story Cell 413, is it descriptive enough or is there any parts that seem confusing? What could I add or remove to make it sound better?

Just a part of one of my stories

"No, no, Dad, please! I won't complain! I'll go back to normal! I'm sane! Please, no!" I begged. He came around the car and opened my door. I backed into the driver's side of the bench seating, screaming while trying to kick his hands away.
"Get out of the damn car, Anne!" He hollered. Eventually, he caught my foot and yanked me out forcefully. He grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. He pulled me to the main entrance and I kicked and tried to stay firmly planted, begging for mercy.
When we got in the door, a nurse and two men came to the scene.
"I need to have her committed," my father said. "For her own safety."
One of the men grabbed my other arm and started to steer me away from my father and into a seperate room.
"No! Dad, tell them I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy! There's been a mistake! Help me, please!"
"Get in, Miss," the man said, closing the door.

Do you think there are too many exclamation points, or do you think it properly conveys her emotion? Can you picture her trying to hold her ground and desperately trying to convince her father?

Query Sentences!

The Escape
A young woman is kidnapped by a science cult. Her search for the reason why reveals a secret about her long lost father.
The Break In
In one night a teenage boy is tested by a home invader, will he pass the test? Will the invader escape and leave the boy injured.
Crater Lake
Do a boy and girl have what it takes to destroy a powerful ring and outrun the government in order to stop a potential catastrophe?
Cell 413
A young woman wakes in a room. Will she find out why she is here or will she be killed for the secret power she possesses?

Do these sentences make you want to read the story they are portraying? Is there anything that doesnt sound right or make sense?

Random story parts

Does this character seem consistent? Or does her personality seem to jump around?

she thinks she can just grab them and go? I don’t. She’s lucky she’s younger; otherwise I wouldn’t feel so bad about smacking her around a couple times.
Her room was a mess. Scratch that - it was a complete shambles.
You could barely open the door because the clothes on the floor get all bunched up underneath it.
Now if I could only find something...I looked around waiting for something to catch my eye. Nothing did.
Whatever, I’ll wear that new bracelet her “boyfriend” got her. It probably came from the quarter machine thing at the grocery store. Quality, aint’ it?
I turned and headed toward her dresser where she laid, or more like threw, her cosmetics and stuff on. sprayed some “fantasy fume” on myself (which ended up smelling horrible)...

I’m happy to spend the day outside enjoying the perfect weather conditions, even if it is playing follow the leader with a herd of annoying teenagers and college kids who think they’re you’re mother or something. You’re probably thinking I should already be enrolled and attending college classes right now since it’s September, but I’m only a junior.
Maybe I should mention the road isn’t the only place where my mother likes to get ahead.
I want to go to an art school, like RISD. That’s my number one. Cecelia, on the other hand, wants me to go to school to be a business consultant. Ripping people off and lying are her two favorite things, apparently she thinks I’d be good at it too, which I probably would, but I’m just not interested. I rather be making the products, not selling them like a homeless man on the street, desperately waining in the money.

Another Writing Exercise (Happy St. Patrick's Day!)

“I’m sick of it!” Larry yelled to the fellow leprechauns around him as he stormed out of the gold bank. Larry furiously walked down leprechaun town with two pots of gold in each hand. He entered his apartment and threw the pots on his couch.
“I’m sick of it! I’m tired of living in hiding. I want people to know me, I want to be famous! I’m tired of hiding from humans, and waiting for a rainbow to form, when there are only like 100 a year and by the time I get there, there is already another leprechaun that beat me to it. Plus, no human actually ventures out to an end of a rainbow, they don’t believe in it. How did leprechauns and rainbows even come together to form this job, makes no sense, no sense I say!” Larry said to himself.
Thinking about his dreams, he wanted to be in commercials. He thought movies were too long, and TV shows have too many seasons. He liked commercials because they were only 30 seconds long and it wouldn’t take too long to create it. As long as Larry made it in any commercial, he was happy.
He slowly made it to the real world, and began to live among the humans. Larry didn’t bother with a disguise because he liked all the attention he was getting. He had to get used to the whole people tackling him and yelling “Got you!” expecting gold, but Larry had to explain to people that he was no longer in that business, so he had no gold reward for people.
Larry found a set for a cereal commercial, and they were looking for a short red haired man to play a leprechaun. “That’s perfect!” Larry thought to himself. He showed up to the audition and nailed it. Larry would continue to do the commercials for years, and is still doing them today. He is well known as “Lucky” now and is said to be the attraction of all the kids who eat his cereal.

I dont plan on adding to this, just want to know if it's somewhat decent. Did you make the real life connection? Was it easily visualized?

missing... (part2)

“What the hell was that?” she looked around the room to see where the noise was coming from. The noise sounded like a faint murmur or low moaning, it was coming from the closet. She took her pocket knife and headed towards the door. Without thinking she opened the door and turned on the light, it was Alfred.

“ALFRED…”
He was tied up with chains with a lock on it, and gagged. She undid his gage and tried to pick the lock to release the chains.

“Nina, are you all right?”

“Yes... yes I am why and what happened to you?”

“Early this morning there was a knock on the door and I thought that it was Ernest being extremely early again.”

“What do you mean, I just saw you ten minutes ago.”

“It's not safe here anymore... Nina what did I look like?”

“You looked like you... except for the tattoo of a blue dragon and a scar over his left eye.”

“Go up and pack a bag of clothes and stuff you can't live without ok?”

“Ok, but why?”

“That man wants you dead.”

“WHAT... why?”

To be Continued...

I would like to know if you have any saggestions to help make this story sound real?

Angel's in life

Death is a scary thought at a young age, but can death be a graceful feeling as well? This is a true story from the actual eye witness on the day of a funeral.
August 12, 2006, a young boy had just lost his grandfather after living a very successful life. Before his passing, the young boy and his grandfather would spent endless hours doing anything they could think of. But on the tragic day that his grandfather had finally passed on, the young boy wasn’t sad but happy. Most wonder why he was happy that his grandfather had just passed away, but he had a simple answer to all their suspicions.
“He’s in a better place now” he said with a happy smile.
When the funeral actually took place, something extraordinary happened to the young boy. While they were lowering his grandfather into the ground, he spotted something rising to the sky. He quickly noticed it as the angel of his grandfather. Seeing that his grandfather was finally going into heaven he tells his mom,
“I see an angel mommy”
Once he said that, his mom started to tear up from joy that he could see such an amazing moment.
That young boy is my younger brother, Jose Venero, and on that day he spotted something that most will never see in their lifetime. On that day, he made death feel grace instead of sadness.
Is this story sad? is there any details i can add to enhance detail within the story?

From a Story

I think the only background information you need to know for this excerpt is that Laila and Greg used to date, then their relationship took a turn for the worse. They brok up, but are now back together and going on a trip with their best friends. I apologize in advance for the length, but it is necessary for my questions.

"Laila," Elle whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Can I sit near the window?"
"Sure. I'll take the aisle seat."
"No!"
Greg raised an eyebrow at the girls who were walking in front of him on the plane. He wasn't really sure why they were whispering, considering that everyone near them was packed in so closely that if they were listening it would be no problem to hear what they were saying.
"Why not?" Laila asked quietly.
"Well... why can't you sit in the middle?"
"Because I already feel like I'm going to die on flights! Let's not add being squeezed between two people to it!"
"Laila, you're not even claustrophobic!" Elle hissed back.
"No, but I'd at least like to be comfortable when we're 30,000 feet in the air and in the event that anything goes wrong we will plummet to our deaths!"
"That is completely irrational!"
Subtly, Greg glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was staring at the two girls bickering in hushed voices.
"So why don't you want to sit a seat away from me?"
"I just... it'd be awkward to sit with Greg," Elle said so quietly the aforementioned brunet could barely hear her.
"Why? What's wrong with him?" Laila snapped back defensively.
"It'd just be weird!" Elle whine.
"You do realize we'll be sharing a hotel room, right?" Laila asked. "If just sitting with him is awkward..."
"Shit," Greg muttered.
If Kevin crashes this trip... Ugh! We'll have to share a bed! Well... maybe... No! Why was I even considering that not being terrible?!
During Greg's peroid of inner turmoil, it seemed the girls had settled their differences. Elle took the window seat and Laila say next to her in the middle of the row. Greg frowned slightly. Was sitting with him really so bad? He sat down next to Laila, suddenly self-conscious.
The pilot gave the usual song and dance about safety precautions and then everyone fastened their seatbelts. The engine roared into life and settled into a dull purr as the plane began to cvoast down the runway.
Greg felt a hand slide into his own and he glanced to the side at Laila. She was staring at her lap, but gave him a quick, embarrassed look. He gestured at his shoulder with a gruff head nod and the brunette buried her face against him.
Heh. It's not so bad sitting with me.
Once the plane was in the air and flying smoothly, Greg leaned forward to look at Laila's face. It appeared she had falles asleep shortly after takeoff.
"I don't think she slept well last night," Elle said, noticing Greg's confused look.
"Ah," he replied. "Just last night or... a lot lately?"
"A lot. She won't tell me what's wrong, but I know you have something to do with it," Elle answered, blue eyes narrowing dangerously.
Greg made a mental note to never anger the blonde and innocently replied, "How do you know that?"
"I have my ways."
"Oh? Was it your ways that told you that it'd be a tragedy to sit next to me?"
Elle's face flushed slightly and said, "That's irrelevant. What's going on with you guys?"
"Same old things, but better. Happier. Don't you guys talk about stuff like this?"
"So you aren't always mad at her?" Elle inquired coolly, ignoring his question.
"No," he answered. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "How much do you know about what happened last time?"
" I know you were always mad at her and used your anger and her guilt to your advantage. What else is there to know?"
"Nothing," the brunet lied.
Elle looked suspicious and opened her mouth to reply. Luckily, Laila woke up just then and Greg let out a sigh of relief.
"Are you two fighting?" Laila asked, blinking sleepily at them.
"No," they replied in unison. Then Greg added, "Go back to sleep, Lai."
Laila shot each of them a skeptical look, then rested her head on Greg's shoulder again. He placed his head atop hers and feigned sleep, determined to avoid further questioning.

Are these characters real? Does this seem cliche? And does the slight, subtle humor come through to lighten the scene at any point?

Just Another Excerpt

I'm not looking for any comments about the plot, so pay attention to everything else.

Holly harrumphed. Alex was being stupid again. She sighed and adjusted her uniform’s collar.

“Just shut up and finish that Bio test!” she moaned, “Why the hell did I have to end up with such an idiotic lab partner?”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.” Alex muttered exasperatedly. “That’s what I should be saying…” Alex yawned and filled in the rest of the answers at random. Then, he fixed the hood of his sweatshirt and pulled the zipper of his black jacket up. “The North Face” it read in white letters.

“Hey, I told you to finish quickly, but not randomly.” Holly frowned flicking platinum blonde hair from out of her eyes. “Are you just trying to drag my grade down?”

He snorted. “Stuff it blond girl. At least I can run across a basketball court without tripping over my own feet, bean sprout.”

She glared. “And that’s supposed to make up for the fact that your GPA is probably negative? Besides, being short and blond isn’t bad when you bother looking after your hair. How do you cut that brown bush on your head? A lawnmower?”

“I don’t see a point in being smart when I can just phone Ted and get all the answers anyways!”

“That’s stupid, so you’re going to cheat for the rest of your life using that bigheaded jerk?!”


Are these believable characters? (Do they remind you of anyone you know?) Too typical? Too weird?

Beginning of Surviving the Odds

The last man on Earth sat alone and considered suicide. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Surprised, the man looked up. Could there really be someone else out there who was alive? Overjoyed, he answered the door. In front of him stood five U.S. army soldiers.

“Sir are you okay?” they said. “I’m ecstatic!” he said “I can’t believe there are people still alive on Earth. Are there many?” “Only about 200” the soldiers said “Come with us we’ll take you to the settlement.” “Ok” the man said “Just give me a minute to get my things.”

The man went back in his house and started to pack. He couldn’t believe there were still people alive on Earth. He went back out and got in the soldiers’ car. They had almost reached the settlement when out of the blue came a bright light. Within seconds the last survivors on Earth were dead. The last nuke went off.

That was what went through the man’s head as they were reaching the settlement. He was in shock that it didn’t happen. I guess things were really going to turn around he thought. Finally they drove into the settlement. The settlement really was what used to be the neighborhood filled with all the richer people from around the area. It was in shambles, but it was the best place to keep people.

How does this sound? Does it help draw you in?

The Picture

"Porter get the door, will you!" my mother yelled from the kitchen. I sighed. I am so unappreciated I thought to myself. I was home on break from my first year of college; I was certainly missing the freedom. I swung the door open and to my surprise no one was there. I looked down at the Welcome Home mat and noticed a paper bag, a key, and a card. Written on the front of the paper bag were the words "For your eyes only, Porter Mason." I silently gathered the items into my arms and stealthily climbed the white carpeted stairs to my bedroom.
My room was my silent sanctuary. It was the only place where I could escape the vulture eyes of my mother. It was covered with posters of my favorite bands and movies and books were lying around everywhere. I set the items onto my desk while I bent down to retrieve my purple sweatshirt. Curtains of blonde hair swung in front of my face and blocked my view of the room. As I stood up I checked my reflection in the mirror to fix my hair. I had really pale blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Strangely enough both my parents had dark hair and brown eyes.
I finally settled into my red wheelie chair and first opened the paper bag. I held my breath as I slowly pulled out the fragile parcel. It was a framed picture of a blonde woman holding a baby in her arms. My head was casting a shadow on the image so I turned on the desk lamp. I looked at the image and gasped in surprise. The woman looked exactly like me.
Does it seem like the story is starting off too quickly? What could I do to improve it?

Genderless Lead

Without knowing the narrator's gender, apperance, or age what can you tell me about them from this passage?
I want to see if they are precieved the way I wanted to potrayed them.

I was asleep peacefully when suddenly my ears were molested by the most annoying wakeup call of all time, a cacophony of urgent shouting, sirens wailing, and tires crunching over pavement. Ah, the glorious sounds of civilization! If only Earth came with a mute button. When I rolled over, I saw that it was three forty seven a.m., which wasn’t that bad at all. Used to waking up at four every morning, I rolled out of bed without much trouble. I pulled my curtains back and looked outside, not to see what all the hoopla was about because frankly, I didn’t care. I just liked staring out the day by looking out over L.A. My apartment building is on the shabbier side of town, set a ways away from the skyscrapers at the heart of the city. Its far enough back that when I look out of my window, I can see a wide range of the cityscape. I might possibly have one of the most beautiful views of L.A. available. It’s beautiful enough to turn any professional photographer green with envy. Though, in my opinion, the view is really only appealing to look at during the early hours. Before the workday begins and people crawl out from their urban hidey holes to infest the sideways and streets. Before the sun rises and its light illuminates the diarrhea colored smog strangling the towers and high-rises. I have several paintings of the buildings I can see from my window at dawn laying about. I’ve never had any of them displayed at my art shows though. I would never give up any of my precious treasures to the gluttonous public. Besides, I have an established a trademark within the artistic community and it has nothing to do with architecture. Those brainless bastards that go around calling themselves critics will only ever be allowed to lay eyes on the most mediocre of my work. How’s that for a “screw you” to society? 

An excerpt of "Good v. Bad"

Once there was a girl who lived on a nation called Artea. It was peaceful and everyone was happy. It was a nation of art and technology. Swordaria, a friend nation of Artea, is a nation of weapons. Solaria is a nation of the sun which is also friend nation to Artea. They help each other like Swordaria needs technology to make weapons from Artea and Artea gets weapons from Swordaria. Solaria powers up or gives energy to each nation with the power of the sun. Solaria get weapons and technology in return for powering up the two other nations. They also have nature like wild animals like foxes and deer, fantasy animals like dragons and fairies, and tall trees and exotic plants. But then a nation called Darkeria attacked and war was emerged upon the 3 nations. Darkeria wanted power and conquer every nation. The war started about 6 years ago.

Now 6 years later, war is still going on, that girl’s name was Arta and she’s the princess of Artea. She has black, long, shiny, yellow highlighted hair, sparkly blue eyes, and a love for art. She is artsy and playful. Her little twin half sister, Musa has brown eyes, red highlighted, dark blue, shoulder length hair and love for music. She loves having headphones around her neck and resents her father. They have same father, born at the same time but different mothers. They both are now 16 years old and are sophomores. While there is war going on, she and her half sister attend school called Art Tech Academy; it’s a boarding school, where it is away from the war zone. The palace is a 10 miles away from school (her family is there). Her favorite things to do are drawing, horse back riding, and hanging out with friends. Her friends are Stella and Lacus. Stella has blonde hair and brown eyes. She is the princess of Solaria. She cares about fashion more than school and is preppy and cheerful. Lacus has light brown hair and blue eyes. She is kind and friendly. She is Swordaria’s prime minister’s daughter. Arta, Musa, Stella, and Lacus are in the same class and are best of friends. Lacus and Stella moved temporally to Artea because of chaos and battles on Swordaria and Solaria.

Is this a good beginning to the story? If not, how can I improve it?