First of all, thank you to all the people who helped me in the last story. I feel bad about asking for this kind of help after seeing what other nerfighters are needing help with, but i really want to be an author so I'm gonna ask...
I'm writing a story called "Mackenzie" after the main character. the deprells (species i made up) need a weakness that can be found in water, but not the water itself, and would make a decent sword. Also, I'm wondering if this is any good at all. The basic story line is a girl who was partly possessed at a young age and now lives with a drunken sot. It's a fantasy story. Here's the first paragraph:
"Mackenzie jumped from tree to tree, barley rustling the leaves. It was starting to get light. She didn’t like the light. She landed with a soft thud, to catch her breath and find out where the damn hell she was. She bowed her head, closed her eyes and let her magic go free, into every crack she could see, plus many more she couldn’t. Being a possessed elf had its advantages.
Her long, purple hair swayed gently in the breeze. It was the Sign of the Possessed, as Butch liked to call it. Her pink eyes snapped open. Big rabbit. Thirty trees west. She turned, took one last deep breath. She leaped three trees every second, horizontal along the trunks. She stopped above the clearing and looked around. There it was. Damn it was fat! She aimed her bow and arrow at it. Release.Success. She jumped down to retrieve her dinner."
Is it any good? Thanks!
Thanks for sharing, Monique.
First: It is really hard to judge a story by its first few paragraphs. Especially on first drafts when, in all probability, the first page or so (in short stories) is not really part of the plot/story anyway. Those beginnings are usually there to help the writer begin the story...to just get the words started on the page. Very rarely will you find that what you write initially is what you end up keeping. I think you have a good idea here...it is just that there is hardly enough given here for me to judge the caliber of story itself.
Second: Just a pet peeve, really. Asking "is it good?" can sometimes come back to bite you, and getting asked "is it good?" sucks. You run the risk of either getting people who will say "yes" so that they don't seem mean--but really what use is that to you as a writer?--or people who will say "no," and it will come off as really harsh and might limit how you see their other comments. These are not the only two responses you will get, I just think you should be warned. Sometimes other writers will answer truthfully. Just be prepared.
Thirdly: It is probably best to just write. Don't worry about what others think. What is important to you right now is FINISH WRITING. Suggestions are great, comments are helpful, and input can end up revolutionizing your story...but it can also discourage you from ever finishing. The only thing you should be focusing on right now is finishing the story. There will be plenty of time for revision later (and revision, and revision, on into what will seem like infinity) after the story has been written. If you spend so much time stressing about how good it is right now, you can totally mess with your own head enough that it never gets finished. Your first draft is allowed to suck, it will suck. Every writer will tell you the same. That is the point. Revising is to make it suck less, writing is to get the story out of the head and onto the page.
Fourthly: I suggest you ignore this until you finish, but if you really want to know...Just some hints--
Lastly, don't stop writing till you have finished this story. There is no way to tell if a story has the potential to be great if the end is never reached. No matter how you take this post...DON'T STOP WRITING. I know at times I can come across as a jerk, and it would have been so much easier to just write "good job," but I think you asked because you want to write and I answered because I am right where you are right now.
The main reason I chose to ask here is because all my friends were telling me "yeah seems like it'll make a good story!" "deprell's seem evil" ":D". I actually want constructive criticism. Sorry that I only gave the first two paragraphs but thats all I really had at the time. Last night i woke up and my brain was like "hey, we should really write some more of that story." so i did. I just read through my story. Almost every sentence starts with "She" -.- I'm changing a few of them. I think the paragraphs are important, but they could be changed to take up less room if it got to squashy.
Mackenzie needs some type of material that would be good in a sword's blade, but can be found in water, as a weakness for the deprells. It was decided to be gold in the first planning stage, but then i looked at it and thought "gold would be too expensive, and make suckish sword" I don't really know much about the metal's in sword and metals in water and i was wondering if anyone had any knowlege on the subject.
P.S, I fixed that spelling mistake. I'm an idiot -.-
Here's the finished story, first revised draft
Mackenzie leaped from tree to tree, branch to branch, barely rustling the leaves. It was starting to get light. Some people would call the light a good thing, but not to her. It meant Butch would be awake soon. Landing with a soft thud, she stopped to catch her breath and find out where the damn hell she was. Bowing her head and closing her eyes she let her magic go free, into every nook and cranny. Being a possessed elf had its advantages.
Her long, purple hair swayed gently in the breeze. The Sign of the Possessed, as Butch liked to call it. Her pale pink eyes snapped open. Big rabbit. Thirty trees west. Turning and taking one last deep breath, she scampered like a squirrel covering three trees every second, horizontal along the trunks. She froze above the clearing and looked around. There it was. Damn it was fat! Mackenzie aimed her bow and arrow at it. Release. Success. Right through the eye. She jumped down to retrieve her dinner.
Mackenzie cursed under her breath. The rabbit was mainly fluff. Butch would be laughing if he saw that. Now she had to find something else and fast, or else she’d end up eating horse food. Something warm trickled down her shoulder. As a reflex, Mackenzie slapped her shoulder. It splattered everywhere. She looked at her hand. Mackenzie had just slapped her own blood. Now it was splattered all over the forest ground. She had tried so hard to cover her tracks and yet she managed to get cut, on a tree or something else sharp most likely. If the deprells didn’t smell her, they obviously had a blocked nose. This is kind of impossible. They don’t have noses. Running as fast as she could, she jumped over and through trees trying to get away from her scent and trail as soon as possible.
Suddenly, she stopped. Her arm. She never bandaged it. There was a trail of blood behind her. Cursing again, she pulled an old bandage out of her pocket and roughly wrapped up her arm. Not very absorbent, but it did the job. She ran as fast as she could, but it was no good. She was surrounded by deprells. All of them were dark purple, with dark, swirling eyes. Their bodies’ didn’t have much structure, mainly dark mist. They were very dark creatures, spawned from the darkness. She swore over and over again, she pulled out her sword. Alright plan time. Make them feel superior. Make it seem like she was afraid, but not oversell it and avoid actually let them get the upper ground. Close enough. She wasn’t really the plan every step type. She had experience with these guys, but not really. One possessed her. To be totally honest, it only partly possessed her. Butch killed it before it could take full charge. Now they all wanted revenge. Life was so unfair. She managed sliced through a few, but more spawned from the shadows. She slashed around, trying to get enough away from her so she could run. There wasn’t enough space. Down was probably the best option. She jumped down off the branch and fell without much grace, landing heavily on her legs and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, bushes attacking her from all angles. The deprells were gaining on her. They didn’t have legs or anything for them to scratch. Mackenzie gritted her teeth and somehow managed to run mildly faster.
There it was. The thing she had been running towards. The river. Running through the trees, over logs she splashed into the water. The deprells stopped to make a noise that Mackenzie assumed was a laugh. She held up her hands and concentrated all her magic to the riverbed. Rocks leapt into her hands and she flung them at the deprells. Three hit and the deprells screamed and burned. Iron. Their biggest weakness. She flung more rocks, aiming for the head. She soon had them all burned and destroyed. She sighed and fell backwards. Her legs ached and her head was buzzing. She looked up at the sky. The sun was pretty much up. Crap. Looking around, she saw some fish upstream and threw her sword at them. She pulled herself up and groaned. She looked down at her legs. They had small scrapes all over them. And her arms. And her face. Ah well. No blood this time. She walked over to her sword. Two fish. Decent size too. Pulling her sword out of the rocks, she walked with the current until it was too deep, then sat on a log and let it carry her downstream. The result was so relaxing Mackenzie almost fell asleep. Luckily she didn’t or she would have most likely drowned. Rolling herself off the log and out of the river, Mackenzie walked out of the forest to Butch’s property where She went into the stables and dumped her weapons down one her hay-stack-bed. A little green fuzz ball jumped up.
“Calm down Pluff. No need to panic,” She sighed and took him in her hands. He gave her his big puppy eyes as she sat down. He pulled at Mackenzie’s bandage.
“Just a scratch Pluff, it’ll be alright.” She stroked him gently and put him on her shoulder. She left, stroking her horse, Nightsilk on the way, and went into Butch’s house. He was still asleep. Probably had a hangover come to think of it. She skinned the rabbit, casually throwing the skin onto a pile in the corner then she chopped it up and dumped them into the cauldron that bubbled over the fire. She also cleaned and chopped the fish, threw them in as well and tried to get some housework done before Butch woke up.
“Where’s the food?” he mumbled finally.
“Still in the pot.”
“You were late back weren’t you?”
“So? I had to shake a couple deprells...” Mackenzie said as she served the stew into some wooden bowls.
“I used to be able to do that AND still get back on time!”
“Yeah, and now you can’t do jack shit.” The second Mackenzie set the bowl down Butch swiped it up and slurped it down, completely ignoring the spoon that was also given to him. Mackenzie grabbed a smaller bowl and put some berries she had found into it and gave them to Pluff as she sat on the floor, quietly eating her on stew.
“Do you need a hangover remedy?” Mackenzie asked when she saw that Butch had stopped eating and was rubbing his head. Butch nodded his head and Mackenzie took it off the shelf and handed it to him, which he quickly gulped down without as much as a thank you. But Mackenzie was used to it. She had been living with Butch since she was four. There was nothing she could do about it. Yet.
I like the ideas and characters you have. Keeping writing Monique :D I think later this term we're doing short story writing. Our teacher will be impressed. :)
Hey, maybe i could just turn this in :D