forum Critique this scene?

Started March 14, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

Could someone please critique this scene of my first chapter from my second novel? Tell me if there's any way I can add filler, use better words, add to it, or just fix it.

One:

“Mom are we there yet?” I asked impatiently. For the last four minutes i’ve been wiggling uncomfortabliy in my seat. Mom refused to tell me if we were there yet and i had no idea where we were going.
“You’ll know when we get there.” She replied from the front seats. “After all it is a surprise.” I crossed my arms. I hated car rides.
I glanced up and saw Dad looking at me through the rear-view mirror. “Oh, stop pouting. You’ll live through this car ride.”
“No I won’t and you won’t tell me where we are going.”
My Dad sighed. A long tired exhale. “I hated car rides when i was younger too but, you’ll have to learn how to deal with it.”
I shook my head, my hair flying across my face. I looked out the window, watching the trees go past. We exited the forest and into town where many shops and diners passed us. I looked longingly at places i’d rather be at right now. I’d rather be home playing with Zart. He was a great pet, a leopard gecko, as my Dad called it. He didn’t look like a cat but, i see how someone would think he’s one. My Mom wasn’t so pleased when she learned he had gotten him for me a few months ago.
“I hope Zart’s okay.” I mumbled, trying to convince them that Zart was very important and that we should turn around.
“Zart is not killing.” Sarah, who i thought was asleep in her booster seat, blabbered.
My Mom looked at us through the mirror. “Honey, you mean dying, and don’t use that type of language. It’s not proper.”
“Zart’ll be fine, don’t-” My father was interrupted by a loud band. He slumped over in the drivers seat, blood dripped from his head.
“PAUL!!” My Mom screamed.
At fifty miles an hour we slammed into another oncoming car. I could hear the faint, dying screams of my mother, as she tried to get to us. I slumped over and pain erupted throughout my body.
“James! Sarah! Aurggh, ahh, someone HELP.” She cried.
Everything faded to black.
I sat up straight in my bed, sweat dripping and tears flowing from my eyes. I got up and walked to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Same dream, same nightmare, same ending. It was a reminder of how alone i was. Everything was gone. I looked at my reflection, a reflection of a sixteen-year-old dirty blonde boy with light blue eyes. My face was written with sadness. I smiled into the mirror and hid that sadness, that was so much better, so likeable, so much a lie.

Pretty interesting! A few key things that could be improved:

First, is this the beginning of your novel/story? A dream sequence followed by a wake up scene is a cliché way to start anything. It'll have most people rolling their eyes once they realize it was all a dream. I know it was kind of a let down for me. That said, the dream sequence in itself was fascinating.

Third, you have another cliché riiiight after the first two (dream, wake up). Your protagonist should not look into a mirror and tell us how they look! That takes readers out of the action immediately. Nothing feels as awkward as an oc admiring their reflection and mentally giving themselves a run down on how they look. Most people don't wake up in the morning and describe their reflection and their age. It's not natural. Appearance is not that important in a novel, and if you want to include it, include tiny details in the narrative naturally.

Third, grammatical issues. Not a huge deal in the first draft, but I'll edit a bit just to show you a few of your mistakes.

YOUR VERSION: I shook my head, my hair flying across my face. I looked out the window, watching the trees go past. We exited the forest and into town where many shops and diners passed us. I looked longingly at places i’d rather be at right now. I’d rather be home playing with Zart. He was a great pet, a leopard gecko, as my Dad called it. He didn’t look like a cat but, i see how someone would think he’s one. My Mom wasn’t so pleased when she learned he had gotten him for me a few months ago.
“I hope Zart’s okay.” I mumbled, trying to convince them that Zart was very important and that we should turn around.
“Zart is not killing.” Sarah, who i thought was asleep in her booster seat, blabbered.
My Mom looked at us through the mirror. “Honey, you mean dying, and don’t use that type of language. It’s not proper.”
“Zart’ll be fine, don’t-” My father was interrupted by a loud band. He slumped over in the drivers seat, blood dripped from his head.
“PAUL!!” My Mom screamed.
At fifty miles an hour we slammed into another oncoming car. I could hear the faint, dying screams of my mother, as she tried to get to us. I slumped over and pain erupted throughout my body.
“James! Sarah! Aurggh, ahh, someone HELP.” She cried.

EDIT: I shook my head, brown curls/strands of hair flying across my face. (A good way to include description.) I looked out the window, watching the trees go past. We exited the forest and made it into town where we passed by many shops and diners. I looked longinly at the places I'd rather be right now. I'd rather be home playing with Zart, honestly. He was a great pet. A leopard gecko, as my Dad called it. He didn't look like a cat but I see how someone would think he's one. (How?) My mom wasn't so pleased when she'd learned my dad had gotten him for me a few months ago.
"I hope Zart's okay," I mumbled. I was secretly trying to convince them that Zart was very important and that we should go back for him.
"Zart is not killing," Sarah, who I thought was asleep in her booster seat, blabbered. (Pro tip: Kid's don't really make verbal mistakes like that. If English was her second language, maybe. Instead, have her say something like "Zart is not died," or "Zart is not deaded". Kids tend to overcorrect or oversimplify the English language, not butcher it.)
Mom looked at us through the mirror. "Honey, you mean dying, and don't use that type of language. It's not proper."
"Zart'll be fine, don't-" My father was interrupted by a loud bang. He slumped over the steering wheel, blood dripping from his head.
"Paul!" My mom screamed. (No!! Double!! Punctuation!! Lol. But really, one exclamation point gets the point across. Pun intended.)
Flying down the highway (I don't know how the narrator would know the exact speed…), we slammed into another car. I could hear the faint, dying screams of my mother as she tried to reach us. I slumped over (maybe don't say slumped again) and pain erupted throughout my body.
"James!" my mom shrieked. "Sarah! Someone –someone help!" (Instead of including a scream in someone's dialogue, kinda just indicate it with the dialogue tags and the cadence.)

Anyways, it's not a horrible excerpt. It's got potential! Keep writing :D

Thank you for your critique.
I was writing this in a rush trying to get it done, so sorry for that. I didn't really know that dream scenes in first chapters are cliche, so I'll see what I can do about that. The mirror thing, that's to show how old he is, in my first book he's 14 and I do this to show it's really him.I see him practicing looking like he's not in pain in the mirror since whenever something like this happens he hides it and pretends he's okay. I see how someone wouldn't do that in a normal situation.
As I said, I was in a rush to get it done. I knew it needed work but, not where.

Edit:
Also, the leopard gecko thing, that's a joke. He's basically roasting the guy who named it, saying he/she has poor eyesight.

Okay, so i went through and edited it. What do you think?

“Mom are we there yet?” I asked impatiently. For the last four minutes, i’ve been wiggling uncomfortably in my seat. Mom refused to tell me if we were there yet and where we were going.
“You’ll know when we get there.” She replied from the front seats. “After all it is a surprise.” I crossed my arms. I hated car rides.
I glanced up and saw Dad looking at me through the rear-view mirror. “Oh, stop pouting. You’ll live through this car ride.”
“No I won’t and you won’t tell me where we are going.”
My Dad sighed. A long, tired exhale. “I hated car rides when I was younger too but, you’ll have to learn how to deal with it.”
I shook my head, my dirty blonde hair flying across my face. I looked out the window, watching the trees go past. We exited the forest and into town where many shops and diners passed us. I looked longingly at places i’d rather be at right now. Or even better, home playing with Zart. He was a great pet, a leopard gecko, as my Dad called it. He didn’t look like a cat but, I see how someone would think he’s one since he has all of the traits other than ears. My Mom wasn’t so pleased when she learned he had gotten him for me a few months ago.
“I hope Zart’s okay.,” I mumbled, trying to convince them that we should go back home.
“Zart is not deaded.” Sarah, who I thought was asleep in her booster seat, blabbered. I glared at her. She ruined my plan.
My Mom looked at us in the mirror. “Honey, you mean dying, and don’t use that type of language. It’s not proper.”
“Zart’ll be fine, don’t-” My father was interrupted by a loud band. He slumped over in the drivers seat, blood dripped from his head.
“Paul!” My Mom screamed.
We sped down the almost empty road and slammed into another oncoming car. I could hear the faint, dying screams of my mother, as she tried to get to us. I fell over, feeling the seatbelt scrape against my body. Everywhere hurt, my chest, my legs, everywhere. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was gasping for the air I couldn’t reach. I felt warm blood drip down my face.
“J-James!” My Mom shrieked, as I tried to make a feeble attempt to get up. “Sarah! Some-someone help!”
Everything faded to black.
I sat up straight in my bed, sweat dripping and tears flowing from my eyes. I curled into a tight ball and closed it all out. This shouldn’t have a toll on me anymore, I’ve relived it so many times.
The summer sun welcomed me to morning, the faint light pouring in through my window, which was right above my window. I really should move my bed.
I lay in bed pondering, get up now, or later? After some solid argument, I decided to get up now. I have business to attend to, and it’d be a shame if I forgot. I walked out of my room and into the kitchen and fumbled through the cabinets. I found what I was looking for and placed it on the counter.
I placed my hand upward next to the marker I had brought down. I tugged the long sleeve off of my left wrist. I counted the scars, each one a long straight line across my wrist. There were sixteen in all, eleven were covered in marker. I reached for the black marker and I ran it over the next scar in line. Keeping track of my dreams and hiding the scars, making them look like tally-marks, which they now serve the purpose of. Two birds with one stone. I pulled off my other sleeve and made sure there were no scars left on that side that have not been marked. I counted all that were marked. Thirty-nine in all. I really must’ve disliked my right hand.
Satisfied, I looked out the window at the backyard. What once was a beautiful garden now lay in shambles. The heat of the day and the freezing of night took a toll on it and weeds made it their home.
Within the largest patch was a hidden mound of dirt. I threw some grass and flower seeds over it, but, I could still see it as plain as day. If only I had enough time to tribute to that garden, but, yet i despise it. The memory still all too fresh.

…SO. MUCH. BETTER!!! I love the added description, I love the altered wake up scene, I love all of it! The tally marks are an interesting concept too. Seriously, this is much improved. Great job! One tiiiiny nitpicky thing: dialogue tags should be set off with commas. So "I hope Zart's okay." I mumbled… becomes "I hope Zart's okay," I mumbled. It's pretty minor for a first draft, but something to think about. Otherwise, nice!!

Thank you for tolerating my rushed writing. I fixed the tiny detail too and I'll keep that tip in my notes.
Once again, thank you!