So, I'm not sure if this is the right place to ask this but I'll do it anyway. I'm working on a story, and I feel as though I am really bad at writing a character's thoughts. Any suggestions? Any examples of where/how to do this? Here's the link to it for more context: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19Zhk16Cpl00D13C-4wKCfd4hmUfnl2gqOwm6vGra1ac/edit?usp=sharing
So when I write characters and I have to write their thoughts, it's usually because I need it to give more context to the situation that's happening. It helps the reader know what happened in the past that the character isn't necessarily willing to share. Sometimes it's informative, and sometimes it's just their general feelings. Like if your character was in a fight, they would become panicked and so they would try their best to predict the moves of their enemies, which might be something you add in.
I read through the story you have now and you seem to already do a very good job at it, in my opinion. There can always be improvements, but I think you have it nailed down.
I did have a bit of trouble reading it through because I got confused on some paragraphs, but I ended up figuring it out. Overall, I think what you have is fine.
You said you got confused. Where?
Alright, let me just say this is pretty good. I like the plotline of it, and overall you've got thoughts locked down pretty good. Here are some tips I have for you that will make you sound even better than you already do.
First, I recommend more description of what's going on. Not necessarily add more events (however I won't say you can't) but more along the lines of descriptive words, without actually describing how they're feeling, though you can do that too because literally, this is your creation, you can do whatever you please and no one can tell you no. Anyway, what I mean is to use exotic words. Flamboyant, snarl, hiss, snap, acid, acrid, bitter, etc. are all different ways of both describing objects and describing dialogue, which is what I recommend you focus this method on to make it sound really engaging, sort of like you're describing a movie or play for them. Remember to write down every significant detail of the image in your mind because you're painting a picture for them, and so the more effort you put into the expression of the characters and their emotions and actions, the more the reader understands and gets sucked in, which also broadens your audience because it's easier to read expressive stories. (which is how your concern is totally valid as well; they've got to relate to the character and if they know what how they're thinking then it makes it that much easier; have no fear, I think the thoughts are pretty well done.)
Another thing you can do is add more actions and adjectives to the dialogue. Like, as an example (examples are really important to me personally so that I have a guideline on how to operate):
Anxiously, Caydree whistled through her teeth. "Please, stop fighting." She pleaded, shifting on her feet as her fists tighten.
It adds a fuller picture, as well as shows more of the character's personality. I think one of the reasons why you're concerned about your character's thoughts is because you fear she's a little too surface-level or shallow so it won't be as engaging (at least those are the vibes I'm getting) but one way to fix that isn't necessarily through her thinking, but through how long she thinks, what she does while she is, and the conflict raging both inside her mind as well as out. Books aren't just about the events happening to a character, it's how the character reacts to them (though I'm sure we all understand some form of this. We're all writers, after all). Here's an example:
As the fire rages around me, I clench my hands and fists shut in terror. How do I fix this? What if I hurt everyone? What's happening to me? I ask desperately, wishing this would all go away. The boiling under my skin is almost worse than the inferno consuming the air. I wish it would just stop. I stomp my feet in agony. I can feel the sweat trickle down from my temple and drip off my chin, the heat blistering and grating against my skin. My headache spikes to excruciating levels and I clutch at it desperately. I can't take it anymore.
"Stop it! Just stop it all!" I shriek, curling in on myself and choking on the air.
Suddenly, the heat vanishes, though my skin still crawls. I keep my eyes pinched shut as concerned murmurs grow louder around me. My heartbeat quickly drowns them out as fear takes over. What have I done? What have I done? That is the only line that reaches my mouth. "What have I done?" I whisper, my hoarse voice horrified. I have just ruined everything.
Shoot, sorry, this is super long. But anyway, those are my tips for you so that your writing gets from good to excellent. I'm no professional, though, so I might've made a mistake somewhere in there in giving you advice. I was in your writing place at one point, too. I wrote like you do. These are just some tips I picked up from someone else. Anyway, keep writing. It sounds really good and I wish you the best of luck! I'm looking forward to seeing your book on the bestsellers someday, if you choose to publish it.👍👍
You said you got confused. Where?
I mentioned it in the notes, but apparently, you can't see it since we haven't shared the document with each other, sorry bout that my dude
Alright, let me just say this is pretty good. I like the plotline of it, and overall you've got thoughts locked down pretty good. Here are some tips I have for you that will make you sound even better than you already do.
First, I recommend more description of what's going on. Not necessarily add more events (however I won't say you can't) but more along the lines of descriptive words, without actually describing how they're feeling, though you can do that too because literally, this is your creation, you can do whatever you please and no one can tell you no. Anyway, what I mean is to use exotic words. Flamboyant, snarl, hiss, snap, acid, acrid, bitter, etc. are all different ways of both describing objects and describing dialogue, which is what I recommend you focus this method on to make it sound really engaging, sort of like you're describing a movie or play for them. Remember to write down every significant detail of the image in your mind because you're painting a picture for them, and so the more effort you put into the expression of the characters and their emotions and actions, the more the reader understands and gets sucked in, which also broadens your audience because it's easier to read expressive stories. (which is how your concern is totally valid as well; they've got to relate to the character and if they know what how they're thinking then it makes it that much easier; have no fear, I think the thoughts are pretty well done.)
Another thing you can do is add more actions and adjectives to the dialogue. Like, as an example (examples are really important to me personally so that I have a guideline on how to operate):
Anxiously, Caydree whistled through her teeth. "Please, stop fighting." She pleaded, shifting on her feet as her fists tighten.
It adds a fuller picture, as well as shows more of the character's personality. I think one of the reasons why you're concerned about your character's thoughts is because you fear she's a little too surface-level or shallow so it won't be as engaging (at least those are the vibes I'm getting) but one way to fix that isn't necessarily through her thinking, but through how long she thinks, what she does while she is, and the conflict raging both inside her mind as well as out. Books aren't just about the events happening to a character, it's how the character reacts to them (though I'm sure we all understand some form of this. We're all writers, after all). Here's an example:As the fire rages around me, I clench my hands and fists shut in terror. How do I fix this? What if I hurt everyone? What's happening to me? I ask desperately, wishing this would all go away. The boiling under my skin is almost worse than the inferno consuming the air. I wish it would just stop. I stomp my feet in agony. I can feel the sweat trickle down from my temple and drip off my chin, the heat blistering and grating against my skin. My headache spikes to excruciating levels and I clutch at it desperately. I can't take it anymore.
"Stop it! Just stop it all!" I shriek, curling in on myself and choking on the air.
Suddenly, the heat vanishes, though my skin still crawls. I keep my eyes pinched shut as concerned murmurs grow louder around me. My heartbeat quickly drowns them out as fear takes over. What have I done? What have I done? That is the only line that reaches my mouth. "What have I done?" I whisper, my hoarse voice horrified. I have just ruined everything.
Shoot, sorry, this is super long. But anyway, those are my tips for you so that your writing gets from good to excellent. I'm no professional, though, so I might've made a mistake somewhere in there in giving you advice. I was in your writing place at one point, too. I wrote like you do. These are just some tips I picked up from someone else. Anyway, keep writing. It sounds really good and I wish you the best of luck! I'm looking forward to seeing your book on the bestsellers someday, if you choose to publish it.👍👍
Great suggestions! I think I struggle with words like snap and hiss is because I can hear the way it sounds in my head when they speak, but I don't know the right word to describe it.
Tati, I completely understand what you're going through. Every day (and I mean every day) I keep forgetting words for what I mean, so I have to look up thesauruses or synonyms to a certain word, and they're not always 100% accurate, so I just do the best I can. Also, some of my biggest examples are reading from other people, so I read any chance I get. And be creative! If a word sounds a certain way to you, like how 'skitter' sounds like a spider crawling across something to me, then use it! It makes for a broader range of awesome adjectives. And another thing that helps creativity is not reusing the same words over and over again, and this method has actually helped me with the whole finding synonyms and adjectives thing. One thing a published writer told me was that if you use a word that pops out to someone, don't use it again for at least 3 to 4 pages, so the reader doesn't even notice if you repeat it. It's really hard and my brain hurts after trying, but overall my writing has improved because of it and I don't have to make as many edits when I read back over it. Anyway, if you need more help with anything else or just want to talk, just text me whenever and I can totally help out!
@NijiT. I wrote a scene that I think is either too dialogue-heavy or needs more description. Do you agree? If so, could you help me with some ideas as to improve it? It might help to read the stuff that came before it, but IDK.
This is the scene I think I need help with.
We arrived home half an hour later. My mom was pacing back and forth and when we walked in she shouted, “Where have you been?!”
“A trial.” my dad said.
“A What?!” my mom asked. Her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.
“The Council wanted to know if Alya and were traitors, because of course they did,” my dad replied airily. And that’s when my mom’s gaze shifted to Alya, who was standing next to me.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?” my mom asked Alya. Alya wasn’t the one who answered, however.
“She going to stay with us for a while if that’s ok. The Council voted to keep the investigation open, and I believe that Alya and I need to stay away from Alex or the Council will never drop the investigation.”
“You may be in all technicalities, her brother, Ben. But I’m pretty sure that this as good as kidnapping. I’m not helping you get into trouble with Southwater authorities, when the Council of the Fairies already has a case on you,” my mom said.
“We’ll do it the legal way then. I’ll do what Elena did with you.” my dad said decisively.
“You can’t file for guardianship, Ben.”
“Why not? Alex is a criminal, a traitor, an outlaw, a fugitive among other things. Alex has no legal way of fighting it.” he argued.
“That’s the problem, Ben. If you do this, it will once again put a target on my back.”
“What do you want me to do Ally?” he asked.
“Ben, I’m not worth it. The Council won’t know I’m with Mother if I stay away. You deserve to keep as much peace as you can.”
Tati, I think this is pretty good! The dialogue is just right, so all you need is some more description! My first recommendation is to only have one 'said' on the entire page, as well as any other verbs you might have repeated. It makes the page more diverse, first, and second, it's a really good indicator for the mood
"What do you want me to do Ally?" He murmured softly
Is drastically different from
"What do you want me to do Ally?" He demanded hotly.
Helpful disclaimer: you don't need to have an adverb onto every verb you've got (ex: softly, hotly) like I just did with those two dialogue lines (which you are 100% free to use) because then it takes away from the actual plot.
Anyway, just do that. And be quirky! Don't be afraid to branch out to new ideas, change their perspective of your character's personalities, and such. Is her dad shy, scared, nervous, reluctant to fight, or regretful? Or is he indignant, angry, crazy, up-front, stressed, or frustrated? Or something completely different? You get to decide, and you can show that image to your audience by using words that fit that theme.
My second recommendation (as an example): What is his reaction to her mom's surprise? You can show it not just through what he's saying, but also his body language. What does Alya think of all this? She may not be speaking, but a lot can be said about her character and standing with everyone else in the room based on what she's doing. Also, how does Amelia feel about her parents fighting? I assume this is her perspective, so you can add in her thoughts, not just her actions, into the mix. Like, what if she doesn't want her mom to be arguing? Or vice versa? Or what if she's hungry, so all she's thinking of is food, only occasionally tuning into the convo? What if she's concerned about Alya? You can spin this any way you want it to go, and show as much detail about each person's character based on what they do. Many people don't do this so their plotlines and characters are a bit shallow. There's nothing wrong with the characters or plots themselves, it's just hard to portray what the author is thinking and imagining.
@NijiT What do you think? A good change?
We arrived home half an hour later. My mom was pacing back and forth and when we walked in she shouted, “Where have you been?!”
“A trial.” my dad said.
“A What?!” my mom asked. Her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.
“The Council wanted to know if Alya and I were traitors, because of course they did,” my dad replied airily. And that’s when my mom’s gaze shifted to Alya, who was standing next to me.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?” my mom asked Alya. Alya wasn’t the one who answered, however.
“She's going to stay with us for a while if that’s ok. The Council voted to keep the investigation open, and I believe that Alya and I need to stay away from Alex or the Council will never drop the investigation.”
“You may be in all technicalities, her brother, Ben. But I’m pretty sure that this as good as kidnapping. I’m not helping you get into trouble with Southwater authorities, when the Council of the Fairies already has a case on you,” my mom barked.
“We’ll do it the legal way then. I’ll do what Elena did with you.” my dad said decisively.
“You can’t file for guardianship, Ben.”
“Why not? Alex is a criminal, a traitor, an outlaw, a fugitive among other things. Alex has no legal way of fighting it.” he argued.
“That’s the problem, Ben. If you do this, it will once again put a target on my back.”
“What do you want me to do Ally?” he demanded.
“Ben, I’m not worth it. The Council won’t know I’m with Mother if I stay away. You deserve to keep as much peace as you can.” Alya said softly. Before anyone had a chance to respond, Alya turned away and ran out the door.
“No! Alya, wait!” my dad shouted. He turned around but she was gone. “See what you’ve done! She’s an innocent thirteen-year-old girl! As long as she stays with Alex, no one will see her as such!” he shouted. At that moment, it seemed as though all the fire was extinguished from his eyes. He looked down and added disheartened, “We know that better than anyone. I just wish I could stop this. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I think it's great! I think just add a bit more action after the things they say. For example (you can use any and all of the following examples throughout the entire thing if you choose to do so)
"A trial." My dad said, dodging her eyes.
This is more advanced because in certain circumstances this would be a bit too much, but I think if you want to keep the energy/tone of the scene up without sounding repetitive with too many extra-descriptive words, then this is an excellent way to do just that.
Another advanced technique: Play around with the ordering! If it's going to be straight dialogue, change it up! Here's what I mean:
*“She's going to stay with us for a while if that’s ok. The Council voted to keep the investigation open, and I believe that Alya and I need to stay away from Alex or the Council will never drop the investigation.”
She presses her lips together before barking, “You may be in all technicalities, her brother, Ben. But I’m pretty sure that this as good as kidnapping. I’m not helping you get into trouble with Southwater authorities, when the Council of the Fairies already has a case on you,”
"We’ll do it the legal way then. I’ll do what Elena did with you.” my dad counters firmly.
Mom seems just about done with him. “You can’t file for guardianship, Ben.”
“Why not? Alex is a criminal, a traitor, an outlaw, a fugitive among other things. Alex has no legal way of fighting it.” He folds his arms mulishly, not backing down.*
I don't know why, but I think of this as spicy writing, not necessarily like ouch, spicy or 😏spicy but tasteful, colorful, advanced, you know? Also, it's really hard to find a good balance without making it overpowering or too bland. I'm sure I've overdone it in the majority of my writing, so I'm not as reliable to help you find that balance, but it's a touch-and-feel process. You do what you feel is good, write it like that, and then take a break for a bit. I know, it seems a bit strange. Trust me on this, your eyes will never be clearer. If you've already done this, then you know what I mean. If you haven't, then get ready to feel it all.
And if you're still struggling with the balance, you can ask me and I can share with you a chapter or two of my writing (but privately, and only if you really need a basic guide) so that you can understand a bit more of what you can do, what the limits are for how you play this (at least how I see them so far. My works are all works-in-progress too 😅) and maybe recognize a bit of yourself in my work (I've noticed that we write very similarly and I think it's awesome). But, you do not have to do this. Trust yourself first. I'm not any more advanced than you are, I just recognized a few things I needed help with at one point in your writing, just like you might recognize a few things in mine.
Sorry, my things are always so long, but anyway yeah. Those are my recommendations.
@NijiT I finished the scene and added most of another, what do you think? The first paragraph ends the scene I showed you earlier.
Quietly, I walked to my room, as I attempted to push the conversation out of my mind. I placed the textbook I had received from Tina on my desk and when I opened it, I found a thick packet of worksheets, and on the front page were the words: Everything you missed; in Tina’s thick, elegant writing. They were all essentially variations of the one we did in class.
I woke up the next morning to an unusually quiet house. Apart from the muffled sound of the TV in the other room, the house was absolutely silent. My dad was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating cereal and watch the news.
“Where’s mom?” I asked.
“Your mother took Toby to school then went to the Academy. We should get going soon too,” he replied. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed myself a bowl and the milk carton, and sat next to my dad.
As I ate, my dad’s expression became increasingly angry, when finally, he scowled and turned off the TV.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“My story’s been all over the news this morning. They’re all like: ‘he’s had a criminal trial’ and ‘sources suggest that the vast majority of fairies mistrust him and for good reason.’Blah blah blah. Of course, they mistrust me because they all believe people when they say kalacanēr, kalacanēr, kalacanēr.” he explained. When he saw my puzzled expression, he added, “kalacanēr means traitor. They believe I’m going to betray Tina, but I would rather die than betray her. I never realized my parents were right all those years ago, when they told me, ‘Bee, blood isn’t family, connections are.’ Over the past fifteen years, I’ve evolved it to also mean, ‘blood isn’t loyalty.’”
“I like that, I feel like you and mom both fit that well. Your mothers weren’t who you expected, and you suffered for it,” I said.
That's really good! It's shown a great amount of depth! My reccomendation is to just add a little bit of personality. For example, little mind comments after she does something. For example:
We should get going soon, too." He replied. Ok. Thank goodness he seems to be in a better mood today.
and that'd be when u add what she does. Little things like that show what the character is thinking, and thats important if you're writing in first person because you want your readers to feel as if they are the character. We don't just automatically go through everything with a straight face, our minds blank. Mental interaction to the events and surroundings going on help the reader understand how to feel and why, which is great for when u want them to get invested.
There's a lot of great stuff! I cant wait to see how it progresses!
@NijiT Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. I think the phrase, "Blood isn't family, connections are" is my new favorite quote. I low-key think it's like their family motto now. It fits the theme of their family and their history.
@NijiT I finished the scene, here's the last paragraph. What do you think?
“I like that, I feel like you and mom both fit that well. Your mothers weren’t who you expected, and you suffered for it,” I said. At my comparison, my dad’s expression hardened. I suppose I should’ve known better than to compare his life to my mom’s by then, but what can I say, they are much alike - in outlook and experience.
“Come on, time to go,” he said, almost distantly. His expression was cloudy and distracted like he was deep in thought. I suddenly was overwhelmed with the urge to find out exactly what thoughts were keeping him so distracted, but I suppressed it. I already knew what it was - Alex, he was worried about what would happen if Alex gets her way. Here we go again. Another day of wondering how long we’ll all be alive. Yay!
Yes i love that quote!❤
I love the way you wrote that last paragraph! It had everything! Beautiful! Continue like that, and you've got a great career ahead of you!
Anyway, I'll be here if you get stuck or need proofreading or feel something's not quite right about your story😁
@NijiT. I wrote some more. What do you think? I might add more to this scene.
That afternoon, my dad put us all in the car and started driving. To where? I had no idea.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Its a surprise,” he said, but he said it like one might say “the morg” or “the semitary”. Wherever we were going, it was definitely not going to fun. After five minutes, the rich, suburban neighborhoods turned more sparse. There were houses like the ones Tina had shown me not three days prior and in many of their yards were tables filled with paintings, depicting families, blue and red lanterns. What had come over them, and more importantly, where were we going?
Finally, I got my answer. Ten minutes later, we arrived at Nēmar Memorial Park.
I was going to add more description here about the park but was unsure how. I might make it in the Sims and post a picture here and ask you to help me.
We got out of the car in a daze and walked to the center of the park where there were three statues, two of which looked familiar. The two adults were Tina’s parents, but who was the boy depicted in the third statue?
Tina was waiting for us, at the statues of her parents. It’s then that I finally found my voice.
“What’s going on? Where are we?” I asked him, but he wasn’t the one who answered.
“Twenty years ago, one of the first things I did after receiving public recognition was create this park. It’s a memorial of all the people we lost, the very people who can’t be here with us. My parents didn’t die on Nēmar, but they died for the same reason. Every year since, during the second to last week of October, is a week-long memorial celebrating and remembering those we’ve lost to this war.” Tina explained. She looked at the statue of the young boy longingly with an amount of pain and loss I had never yet seen on a person’s face before. “My brother was the first of the many lost,” she told us. A single tear dripped down her cheek as she whispered, “Oh, fa’tēk, how much I miss you. She will pay for all she’s done.”
I walked up to the statue. There was a stand with a plaque in front of it. In both Nēmari and the common tongue it read: Alev, the lost prince; the lost heir. On the initial coronation of then Princess Tina, Prince Alev was struck in the heart by Alex Howler. So, that’s why everyone hates us. They blame us for this silent war. Alex lots killed innocent people and for what?
Also, I was wondering if the following was too dramatic because it feels like that to me. If so, do you have any ideas for a better way to come across still sad but not that dramatic? BTW, "fa’tēk" means brother in Nēmari.
A single tear dripped down her cheek as she whispered.
@NijiT. On another note, when I was looking for names to give Tina's brother, I looked up the definition for Tina and it said it means river in Latin. I find it so fitting as Tina's a water talent. Also, I made her brother's name Alev meaning flame in Turkish. I just loved the idea of one of their names meaning water and the other meaning fire because their parents are water and fire talent.
K, where's the pic of the park? Also its really good😁👍👍. I think you could do this to make it seem less dramatic:
Her eyes are watery and she looks like she's about to cry as she whispers,
Seem less dramatic maybe? Also does Tina cry often or never? If she does, you could point out the shock that she's crying and both emphasize the pain and sadness whilst also showing more of her personality off to the world.
The names thing is SO cool! I do that a lot with my characters as well because I can't ever come up with names that are original. I look up things like 'girl names that mean friend' and so on. Great job!
I never managed to make the pic. I will try to eventually, though. Thanks.
I added your suggestions and added another scene. What do you think? Any suggestions?
“Twenty years ago, one of the first things I did after receiving public recognition was create this park. It’s a memorial of all the people we lost, the very people who can’t be here with us. My parents didn’t die on Nēmar, but they died for the same reason. Every year since, during the second to last week of October, is a week-long memorial celebrating and remembering those we’ve lost to this war.” Tina explained. She looked at the statue of the young boy longingly with an amount of pain and loss I had never yet seen on a person’s face before. “My brother was the first of the many lost,” she told us. Her eyes began to water as she whispered, “Oh, fa’tēk, how much I miss you,” Her fists clenched as she hissed, “She will pay for all she’s done.” My parents exchanged a pair of worried glances. For the next several seconds my dad moved as if he wanted to comfort Tina but ultimately decided against it.
“I will personally see to it that she never hurts anyone ever again,” my dad promised.
“As much as you try, Ben, this war only ends two ways and Alex in prison isn’t one of them,” Tina told him.
I walked up to the statue. There was a stand with a plaque in front of it. In both Nēmari and the common tongue it read: Alev, the lost prince; the lost heir. On the initial coronation of then Princess Tina, Prince Alev was struck in the heart by Alex Howler. So, that’s why everyone hates us. They blame us for this silent war. Alex killed lots of innocent people and for what?
Tina and my dad each laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the statues and stood in front of them as if contemplating their life choices. Five minutes later we left.
When we got home, there was someone already there. Alex, in all her murderous glory, was leaning on the kitchen island. Fury burned in my dad’s eyes. For a man that denounces any connection to Alex, my father’s hatred was something akin to Alex’s fire - strong, powerful and unquenched.
“Enjoy the park?” she asked, cheerfully.
“Get out of my house, Alex,” my dad said coldly. Slowly, we walked into the house.
“I just want to talk, Ben,” she said, more seriously now. In a fashion that greatly reminded me of my brother when he was five, my dad turned away from Alex and crossed his arms.
“Come on, as’fa’ra, listen to me,” Alex begged. For a moment, my dad stiffened, then, his nostrils flare and he spun on her. He thrust out his arm and a violent gust of wind shot towards Alex, pinning her against a nearby wall. There was that glint again. What does want from him?
“I am not son! Now get out of my house!” he growled.
“It’s a pity you haven’t changed in fifteen years. You’re just as stubborn and angry as you were when we met. It is the reason you will blame yourself for Tina’s death when it finally arrives,” she said, and then she was gone.
@NijiT. I've added another scene. It's supposed to be the second scene in chapter 5, but I was struggling to write the scene that leads up to it, so I just wrote this scene. What do you think? Also, I might ask you for help writing the lead-up scene later. Also, there's supposed to be one or two more scenes directly after this one. I'll update you once I write them. Thanks.
When I got home my dad was sitting at the kitchen counter as though he were waiting for me to come home. Not wanting to confess the truth of the events that had just occurred, I walked straight to my room.
I hadn’t made it halfway across the room, however, when my dad asked, “Why are you home so early?” I ignored him. He asked again, and again I ignored the question. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Crap! When I finally reached my bedroom door, my dad was there, standing between me and the door.
“What happened?” he hissed.
All I wanted was for him to get off my back so, despite my better judgment, I lied, “Nothing,” The dark, forbidden power seeped into the word, making it heavy and unlike any other weapon I possessed. My mother and Samantha explicitly forbade me to use this power on anyone, especially those whose minds were susceptible to it, yet here I was, using it on my father. For a moment it seemed to have worked, his expression softened, and then it turned to recognition; he scowled, A pit settled in my stomach. What had I done?
“How dare you!” he bellowed. A breeze picked up around us. “You are going to tell me right now what happened, understand me,” he demanded.
I nodded. “I - I accidentally turned Samantha’s staff to dust,” I stammered.
“You what?!” he said.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”
“When your mother gets home, I’m telling her and Samantha what happened here,” he said decisively. He stood up and moved toward his bedroom.
“But dad, they’ll have my head!” I argued.
He spun on me, “Good! It serves you right for the stunt you tried to pull.” He turned back.
“Dad, please,” I begged. And then from the deepest depths of my desperation came an idea. “Fa’ter, please!” He froze. It seemed as though all the anger had gone out of him.
“You wanted to go in your room, so go.” he croaked. Making as little sound as possible, I went into my room. I just sat there at my desk for the next few minutes, stunned at what had occurred.
Five minutes later, my bedroom door opened and my dad entered. I stood up and faced him.
“Did you mean it? Did you know what you were doing - what you were saying?” he asked in a rush. I knew deep down we weren’t only talking about my powers.
“Yes, and I regretted it the second it happened,” I confessed. His face fell.
“Oh,” he said, almost disappointed.
“I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyways,” I explained, quickly.
“You were quite despite, weren’t you? Did you know how I’d react?” he asked.
I scoffed, “No. You nearly killed the last person who spoke to you like that. Who was I kidding.”
“Your not her. You’ve got to understand that. Alex - she hurt me so many ways. She lied. She killed. I hate her with every bone in my body,” he explained.
“Forgive me for saying it but, she was right when she said you hadn’t changed in fifteen years. The way you acted, it was like Toby when he was five,” I said. But before my dad had the chance to respond, the front door opened; it was my mom. My dad walked out of my room and closed the door.
I wrote another scene, it takes place just after the one above. I've pasted the part above in this post because I made a couple of edits to it. What do you think? Any suggestions?
When I got home, my dad was sitting at the kitchen counter as though he were waiting for me to come home. Not wanting to confess the truth of the events that had just occurred, I walked straight to my room.
I hadn’t made it halfway across the room, however, when my dad asked, “Why are you home so early?” I ignored him. He asked again, and I just kept walking. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Crap! When I finally reached my bedroom door, my dad was there, standing between me and the door.
“What happened?” he hissed.
All I wanted was for him to get off my back, so, despite my better judgment, I lied, “Nothing.” The dark, forbidden power seeped into the word, making it heavy and unlike any other weapon I possessed. My mother and Samantha explicitly forbade me to use this power on anyone, especially those whose minds were susceptible to it. Yet here I was, using it on my father. For a moment, it seemed to have worked, his expression softened, and then it turned to recognition; he scowled. A pit settled in my stomach. What had I done?
“How dare you!” he bellowed. A breeze picked up around us. “You are going to tell me right now what happened, understand me,” he demanded.
I nodded. “I - I accidentally turned Samantha’s staff to dust,” I stammered.
“You what?!” he said.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”
“When your mother gets home, I’m telling her and Samantha what happened here,” he said decisively. He stood up and moved toward his bedroom.
“But dad, they’ll have my head!” I argued.
He spun on me, “Good! It serves you right for the stunt you tried to pull.” He turned back.
“Dad, please,” I begged. And then, from the deepest depths of my desperation, came an idea. “Fa’ter, please!” He froze. It seemed as though all the anger had gone out of him.
“You wanted to go in your room, so go.” he croaked. Making as little sound as possible, I went into my room. I just sat there at my desk for the next few minutes, stunned at what had occurred.
Five minutes later, my bedroom door opened, and my dad entered. I stood up and faced him.
“Did you mean it? Did you know what you were doing - what you were saying?” he asked in a rush. I knew deep down we weren’t only talking about my powers.
“Yes, and I regretted it the second it happened,” I confessed. His face fell.
“Oh,” he said, almost disappointed.
“I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway,” I explained quickly.
“You were quite desperate, weren’t you? Did you know how I’d react?” he asked.
I scoffed, “No. You nearly killed the last person who spoke to you like that. Who am I kidding?”
“You're not her. You’ve got to understand that. Alex - she hurt me in so many ways. She lied. She killed. I hate her with every bone in my body,” he explained.
“Forgive me for saying it but, she was right when she said you hadn’t changed in fifteen years. The way you acted, it was like Toby when he was five,” I said. But before my dad had the chance to respond, the front door opened; it was my mom. My dad walked out of my room and closed the door.
Quietly, so that I wouldn’t be heard, I walked to my door and pressed my ear to the door.
“What was that about?” my mom asked him.
“Nothing - I mean something, but I handled it,” he responded. My mom headed for my room. “Ally wait-” my dad said, but it was too late. Hastily, I moved from the door, and not two seconds later, my mother was standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes narrowed.
“What did you do?!” she scowled.
“Nothing,” I lied.
Her eyebrow raised, she hissed, “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s nothing. I just did something at Samantha’s earlier by mistake. That’s all.”
She turned toward the door and said, “I guess I’ll just ask Samantha then.”
“I turned her staff to dust,” I explained quickly. My dad opened his mouth as if he wanted to interject, but ultimately he stayed silent. My mom stormed out of my room and out of the house. My dad leaned against the doorframe.
“You told her,” he said.
“She was going to ask Samantha anyway. It’s not a big deal. You’re not going to tell her what happened here, are you?” I asked.
“Not now. She needs to calm down first.” he replied, and with that, the matter was closed; there was no changing his mind. He turned to leave as I grabbed the pile of barely touched homework and my Nēmari textbook from the corner of my desk.
“Whatcha doin’?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, sliding the textbook and packet into my lap.
My dad walked up to me, and before I knew what was happening, a breeze had lifted the book up out of my lap. My dad now held the book suspended in midair, hovering inches above his outstretched hand. His face was filled with a look of deep concentration, almost as if the effort of suspending the book was painful. He gently placed the book back on my desk after reading the title.
“Why were you trying to hide this?” he asked, pointing to my book. “Are you ashamed?" I sat there speechless. I looked down. Was I ashamed? I was thrown headfirst into a world - a people I knew virtually nothing about and was expected to learn their language. Who was I kidding? I was not prepared for this.
“I can see it on your face. You are ashamed. Is it because you’re behind?” he asked.
“Stop! It’s like being back at your trial! You're smothering me with your assumptions! I didn’t ask for this - to be thrust into this world - to be lied to by my own parents - to hear people accuse my parents of being liars and traitors. You left for eight years. You told me nothing about your life and now your deranged mother is threatening to rip our lives apart!”
My dad raised his hands in surrender, “You're right. You didn’t ask for this and I don’t know if things would’ve been different if I had stayed. Look at me.” I looked him in the eyes. There was sadness and anger there. He placed his hand on the book, “This is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a part of you - of us, understand.”
“You’re a hypocrite. You say I shouldn’t be ashamed, but what did you do for twenty-three years? You hid. You lied. You stripped away the very thing that made you different. Why’d you come back, huh, if you were just going to lie?” I asked.
“If I could stop this war without bloodshed, I would. If I could go back and change my decision, I would. If I could have stopped Alex from hunting down your mother, I would have. But I can’t do any of those things, Ami! All I can do is fight - fight this stupid war none of us asked for - fight the urge to kill Alex - fight the hatred and anger and mistrust that runs through the veins of every fairy in the city!” he yelled. He looked down, turned around, and quietly said, “Just know that if you need help, I’m always here.” Then he left the room, taking with him the fiery anger that burned through us both.
@Adaras & @NijiT. I rewrote much of chapter 1. What do you think? Better? Suggestions? Also, I'm considering merging chapters 1 and 2.
It all started one October afternoon. Before that day, I truly believed that I could be normal one day, but when Ally Cowiak and Ben Miller are your parents, anything can happen. So, when The Queen of the Fairies showed up at our door, I was the least bit surprised.
“Tina! What are you doing here?” My mother asked with a tight smile.
Like most fairies, Tina was short. Her long, blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, and despite the chilly autumn weather, she wore a knee-length, pale pink dress and black heels.
“Over the past couple of months, I noticed something about Amelia. So, I decided to look into it, and I know, Ally, you didn't want me to look into it, but I did anyway. I discovered that Amelia is a fairy.” The second Tina finished talking, two things happened. All the blood drained from my dad's face, and his and my mom's expressions turned to worry. Before I had time to wonder why there was a puff of smoke and a woman standing in the middle of the room.
“Amelia, get behind me!” my dad shouted. I obliged.
“Come on, Ben. You know I won't hurt her,” the woman smiled. There was an eerie familiarity about the woman as if I had met her once before, but I was sure that I hadn't. The woman would have stood out in a crowd. She had pale skin, blue-green eyes, and long black hair that was woven into intricate braids. She wore an elegant, layered dress the color of blood. The dress was torn in many places as if it had been struck repeatedly by a sword.
“What the hell are you doing here, Alex?!” he asked, glowering at her.
“I made you a promise, Ben. This war isn’t over. I will finally get what I’ve wanted for thirty years. You’ve tried to protect them - your so-called family for so so long, but not anymore. You will suffer for defying me,” Alex said, triumphantly. “Just know this to be true when I say it: the people of Nēmar will not accept you.“ It was clear to me at that moment that I was the only person present who did not know the truth she spoke of. I knew my father was raised by fairies, but that was not entirely what she was referring to. It was a small part of a much larger secret: one that would threaten to crumble my family if we let it. Nēmar? What promise? What war?
Somewhere in my jumble of thoughts, I heard my dad scoff, “What, and you will? No thank you! You’re a backstabbing, traitorous, bitch! I’ve already told you as much!”
To this day, I don't know what made me do it, but I stepped out from behind my dad; to face Alex. I was not going to let her intimidate me. She tried to murder my mother for an ability that my mother and I possess. She may not have wished me dead, but I was not going to cower in my father's shadow.
“I have lived thus far with the legacy of one hated woman. I can live with another!” I said. Alex smirked.
“When'd you tell her?” she asked my dad.
“I didn't,” was his response. Everyone was looking at me now like I had said something outrageous. I don't think I have ever seen my father look at me with such disbelief in my life.
“Smart girl,” his mother said, smirking.
“It wasn't that hard. However, thanks to you, I am about the most unlucky girl on the planet. After all, you and Samantha are two of the world's most hated people. Except, no one wants anything to do with you. You’re a murderer!” I said.
There was a twinkle in her eyes like she was planning something. A heartbeat later, Alex had thrust out her arm; a column of flame had erupted from her arm and was heading right toward me.
In an instant, fire engulfed my vision, and I quickly clamped my eyes shut, avoiding the stinging that had reached them. Strangely enough, it didn't feel as if the fire actually burned me, but rather, the pain was the worst I'd experienced in my entire life. What was Alex doing? I tried to scream, but the effort was too much to bear. A second later, a gust of wind shot toward me, and the column of flames disbursed. What had I done? Had I done anything? Slowly, the burning sensation dissipated and I opened my eyes.
“Don’t look at me! I didn’t do it!” Tina said defensively. If I hadn’t done it, and Tina hadn’t done it… Then who did it? Simultaneously, as though landing on the only possible answer everyone looked at my dad. I thought he was human, but then again, his mother was one of the most hated fairies in the galaxy. Was it possible? Surely not? It seemed as though those same thoughts were circulating through everyone else’s heads too. And almost to make the matter even more confusing, there was a puzzled expression on my dad’s face.
Alex smirked. “I guess that spell wasn't as permanent as you thought.”