forum I'll critique your stuff!!
Started by @TryToDoItWrite
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@TryToDoItWrite

@writelikeyourerunningoutoftime
w o w
Wow!
That was so good! I'm intrigued now…this feels like one piece to a well put together story. At first it seemed like it was a modern realistic fiction, but as it progressed, I learned bits of the characters, setting and story that added to some whole picture that now I really want to see! Nice job with this one!
Usually I do nitpicky things in order, so here we go:

  • One thing I noticed is that the tio called his nephew "hijo" instead of "sobrino." Is there a specific reason for that, for my own curiosity's sake?

  • More blood means more hurts, right?
    This one jumped out at me because Mitsig has a lapse of grammatical correctness, which piqued my curiosity again. How old is he? He seems to have a good grasp of language, so why this lapse?

  • Sad that a dead language was the only language he enjoyed speaking.
    Woah? Is Spanish a dead language in this universe? weirdddd I want to know more!

I literally cannot find something else to say! All I have are questions, so well done! Keep it up and keep writing!

@WriteOutofTime

Thank you!!! To answer your questions: Mitsig calls the narrator "tio", because he doesn't realize he's basically being adopted. The narrator, on the other hand, calls him "hijo" because he's accepted his new role as Mitsig's father figure. Mitsig definitely notices the difference, but he just doesn't mention it.

As for the momentary lapse of Mitsig's grammatical correctness, he's eight and has autism, so he tends to over correct certain words. He's kinda got his own set of grammatical rules wherein "hurts" makes sense, if you know what I mean. In his mind, if you're hurt, you're hurt emotionally, but if you have hurts, its physical.

Thank you again for the critique!

@AvaM_Star

Are you willing to critique another thing for me? It's a short story this time.

About Death
By Ava Morningstar
.
Death is not evil, he did not chose his job, and trust me he doesn't like it. I had an encounter with death. He looked like a well dressed man. He wore a suit and not a single hair was out of place. I was wary of him at first, but he seemed to take no offense by it.  He knows that people hate him, because of his nature and he never expects anyone to pity him.
I was trapped at the time between life and death, between this world and what I assumed was oblivion. Death did not rush me into making a decision. He talked to me everyday and helped me keep my sanity and for a dying girl that's pretty hard. The days were long and so were the nights because you can’t sleep. The only thing you can do is watch your own unconscious body lay there. You will spend hours trying to get the attention of anyone. You would do anything to have someone acknowledge you. So Death's company meant more to me than my life, well almost.
It seemed strange that I was finding comfort in Death while refusing to go with him. I would constantly ask him about what came next and he always said “I can’t tell you because then you will have to go with me. I know that you’re not ready for that.”
“Do you go through this with everyone?”
“Only the few stubborn ones,” he smirked at me. He was strangely personable. Whenever I imagined death I never thought of a man in a suit who knew a few jokes and was so very, very patient. He would wait until I was ready, that was the exact opposite of the image that I had been presented with for most of my life. I was taught the death was the enemy, chasing you down and casting a dark shadow over your life and by that logic you had to do everything that you could to avoid him.
Even though I knew that perception was wrong I still could not let go of my life. Even though I had no guarantee that I would wake up; I could not seem to take the chance that because what if I did? What if my body became habitable again? Death never hated me for it. He never said a single bad thing about my stubbornness, instead he just helped me pass the time. Hours of conversation and games, from chess to tick tack toe.
And he confronted me when my mother came into tell me that they decided to let me go into the loving arms of God. That was how she told me that they were going to kill me. They were going to pull the plug.  I had held onto both my life and my sanity for what felt like an eternity and they were going to kill me. I was going to die in a month. I held on for all this time and they were giving up on me. I was furious and angry, but it all came out as tears.
His listened to me sob for hours as I came to terms with the fact that I was going to die. “I’m sorry I’m so so sorry,” he apologized over and over again. Death hated his job as much as we hated dyeing.
Over the next month he told me everything about himself. He told me that he loved everything thing about life. He thought it was the most beautiful thing, how creatures survived and how he hated that it was his job to be the end. At the start of time Life had been his best friend, but Life slowly grew to hate him because Death represented the destruction of his creations. Life brought joy while death brought sorrow. Life was good and death was bad. There were times when death just wished that someone else could do his job, that it was not his responsibility, but he knew that no one else could do it properly because there were times you had to watch good people die and let bad people live. A human could never do that. He accepted that this was his fate for all of eternity.  
I learned a lot about the universe during that month more than I did in life. During the last week I wanted to write something for him because he still never told me what comes next. So this kind of a precaution in case I never get to see him again.
I know this is not the story that he would have wanted. It’s not going revolutionize his existence it was not going to make any of what he has to do any easier. I wanted to show him that our perception could change, it would just take time. Also I wanted him to know how much this time meant to me and how much I appreciated his kindness. I truly hope that he is like this for everyone.
Well I am writing the last words to the story now.  So that he can remember how this ended.  So yeah my whole family was there, but I made a decision ten minutes before they were going to pull my plug I was going to let go. I was not going to put the weight of my death on them. I studied all of there faces and took in all of the details that I never appreciated before. How blue my mother's eyes were. The deep lines on my fathers face from all the times he smiled. The scare above my bothers from when he fell out of the big tree in the yard. But in the end none of the were the last person I saw, it was Death and he looked so sad. For the first time his hair was a little out of place and his smile was filled with pain, It made me feel like I might have meant something to him as well. He had prepared the door in advance so that I could go when I was ready. The entire time telling me that it would be painless and possibly peaceful.
So my last words then.
Death you are needed. We need you, I needed you. I would have been so lost without your company. You are not evil and you are not bad and here is why. What makes anything worth something is the fact that it has to end, because if it doesn't you will never learn to appreciate it. You help us appreciate life and all the little thing we would have taken for granite. Without you life is worthless.
So I am going to leave you with that. This is my last goodbye. So goodbye, Death, you made me appreciate what I time I got with my family… and with you. Goodbye my friend and wish me luck with whatever comes next.

Sincerely,
A Stubborn Girl

(I hope you like it)

@TryToDoItWrite

Awwww! Now i have feels for Death! The type of thing described reminded me of both the narrator for The Book Thief and the episode in Supernatural where Dean almost dies. EDIT: I just realized that that description of an episode of supernatural is rather vague….i meant the one at the beginning of season 2
It made me lil bit emotional :(
Okay, time for the edits:

  • Death is not evil, he did not chose his job, and trust me he doesn't like it.
    This needs to be split into two sentences like so: Death is not evil. He did not chose his job, and trust me he doesn't like it.

  • You will spend hours trying to get the attention of anyone.
    This sentence is a different tense from those around it and so I'd probably do something like this: You spend hours trying to get the attention of anyone.

  • So Death's company meant more to me than my life, well almost.
    I'd change the comma to a dash for a long, more dramatic pause like so: So Death's company meant more to me than my life–well almost.

  • “Only the few stubborn ones,” he smirked at me.
    Because the sentence he smirked at me isn't a dialog tag, it needs a period after "one" instead of a comma.

  • And he confronted me when
    I think you meant "comforted" lol (v different meanings to the sentence)

  • “I’m sorry I’m so so sorry,” he apologized over and over again. Death hated his job as much as we hated dyeing.
    Couple of grammar mistakes there, so I'll just correct them here: “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry,” he apologized over and over again. Death hated his job as much as we hated dying.

  • I wanted to show him that our perception could change, it would just take time.
    Two sentences again.

  • You help us appreciate life and all the little thing we would have taken for granite. \
    Granted** not granite lol :)

I think i'll leave the grammar there!

All in all, I think it was sweet, and tugged at the heartstrings. Nice job! Keep it up and keep writing!

@AvaM_Star

Thanks, Yeah I know I have a tendency to write run on sentences. Especially with peaces like this one where I get a little emotional when I read it. Also I know my spelling can get bad… granite… I'm so ashamed.

Thank for looking it over and a catching some of my mistakes. I'm glad it had the tugging at the heart strings affect I was going for. I really appreciate it.

@TryToDoItWrite

:) Always happy to help! I constantly double check my spelling because it's something that pulls readers out of the story and that's something we want to avoid at all costs. I'd suggest running your stuff through multiple word processors! some catch things that others don't…when I want to seriously edit anything, I'll use google docs, the novel writing website that I write with (truenovelist.com), and the hemingway editor online!
hope this lil tip helps! it changed my editing life :D
@AvaM_Star

@AvaM_Star

Well it was originally a spoken piece that I had to read out loud. So one saw the mistakes and I knew what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. It kind of made me a lazy writer.

Thanks for the tips I be sure to use them.

Auria Nox

If this is still active, I would love to hear a bit of feedback for this little story idea I had last night:

 The story opens with a letter from the Author to the Reader in a prologue. The letter tells the Reader about a certain narrator  who has a serious late habit, and explains that the following story was made to confuse them as punishment. 
 Chapter 1 then begins with some kind of heated argument between the two main characters (let's say a blonde and a burnette, for simplicity). The narrator begins to speak, but is clearly at a loss of what's going on. He/She has no idea which character is the hero or villain, nor the genre of story they are supposed to be telling. The Narrator must use context clues to figure out what is going on to do their job properly. However, just when they have a hold of the situation, some new details pops up out of the blue, forcing the Narrator to change their approach.
 (For instance, not knowing which character is good or evil, the Narrator is forced to describe them and their actions equally and without bias for the most part. Or if the story opened in a suburban park and the argument was between two females talking about a boy, the narrator would start describing it in a sort of romantic/drama voice. But at the end of the scene, some cliche definitely not found in the genre [creepy phone call, giant robot, magic wizard, etc..] pops up and the Narrator has to just roll with it.) 
 The whole thing would be riddled with crazy cliche's and increasingly frustrated inner monologue from the Narrator, including, but not limited to a fourth-wall break asking the reader what the heck is going on, only to realize it was a book and the reader would not even see this question until it was printed.
 Then, the sequel could be something along the lines of the narrator finding out about the "punishment," and the reader's being in on it, and creating a whole new story just to mess with the reader and/or author figure. As in, saying things to go directly against the intentions of the author at random. A.K.A.: "The knight had finally reached the top of the mountain to rescue the princess-" {Narrator begins smiling in vengeful glee} "-AND TRIPS AND FALLS BACK DOWN THE RIDGE FROM WHENCE HE CAME...... TWICE!"

I just came up with this idea, so it is very nebulous at the moment, but any ideas as to various, fun plot points, or devices which can be used to keep the Readers themselves from becoming COMPLETELY lost, would be greatly appreciated!

@TryToDoItWrite

Dude! YEs!!! I love plots like this…I think there hilarious! :) I've written several play scripts with the narrators being confused and breaking the fourth wall..it makes me happy

Auria Nox

I was contemplating turning it into a script once it comes together more! Then I could have fun with theatre cliche's as well as literary ones! Muahaha!!!

@WriteOutofTime

hi i know i've had you critique a whole bunch of my stuff buuuut here's one last thing. It's a backstory type scene that's not going to be included in my current work, but helps me provide context for this character.

Inhale. Draw to the corner of my mouth. I can almost taste the arrow. Hold the breath. Eye my target, aim, ready. Exhale. Release the arrow. Again. Again. Inhale, hold, exhale. Again. I do this every day, hours on end, until my hands bleed from overuse. I can’t help myself.

Today isn’t just recreational shooting. I’m here under surveillance, being assessed and dissected like one of my sister’s science experiments. Dara had drilled the scientific method into my mind even though my brain had no use for it. The six steps that comprised an experiment. The only way to be sure.

Step one. Ask a question. Am I good enough? Can I actually be of use to Nyir and to her regiment, or am I just going to be dead weight? Step two. Look into my background. The problem with this step is that I have no experience. I’m too young to graduate and too young to be here, but I’m here anyway. By Nyir’s demand. Step three. Construct a hypothesis. I am of use to her regiment because of my skill with a bow. Step four. Conduct an experiment.

I am on step four. Inhale, hold, exhale. I hit the mark every time. Still targets, moving targets, anything and everything. I don’t allow myself to miss. At this point, it’s child’s play. I could hit these targets in my sleep and not even miss a snore. I finish my quiver of arrows and turn to Nyir, wondering if I proved her hypothesis. Wondering if I impressed her.

She stands a small distance away, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. The entire training room is empty besides her and I. I guess she’d had the room cleared while I was shooting. I was too focused on my archery to realize that. I smile at her, trying to appear cocky, hoping she can’t see how my hands sweat or how I stand on my tiptoes.

“How long have you been shooting?” she asks after a long silence. Step five. Draw conclusions from data gathered. She is approaching me slowly, her arms still crossed over her chest.

I shrug, laying my bow down on the table next to me. “Um, six, seven years? I started when I was eight.”

“Why?” Her deep brown eyes are staring straight into mine. I’ve never seen such an unwavering gaze and it’s unsettling. I refuse to look away.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, unslinging the quiver from over my shoulder. “I guess it just sounded like fun.” I’m not lying. I just don’t want to rehash my eight-year-old mind’s reasoning.

She narrows her eyes. “You’re not sure of anything, I’ve noticed. I have no patience for insecurity. Are you confident in your ability to shoot?”

“Of course I’m confident,” I say, placing my hands on my hips and grinning. “I’ll tell you right now I’m the best archer in the Lower World.”

“I’m not looking for cocky,” she says, her eyes narrowing even more, “I’m looking for confidence. Which you don’t seem to have. Bye.” She whirls around and starts to leave.

I panic. “What? Wait. No, please, wait,” I jog after her, falling into step beside her. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to sound cocky. I really do think I’m the best at archery.”

She didn’t stop walking. “Okay. Why did you start archery? Because no one starts something when they’re eight and keeps at it until they’re fifteen just for fun.” I look at the ground, not sure what to say. She continues, “So, since you’ve decided to go all mum, I’ll tell you what I think. I think you realized your sister is better than you and you wanted –no, you needed to be good at something. So you took up archery and practiced as much as you could but you still don’t think it’s enough. You’re utterly desperate to prove yourself, to yourself, to your parents, and to Dara. Am I right?”

“No!” I wince at how loud I sound. She’s almost seen right through me, but I can’t bear the idea that she’s gotten one important detail wrong. “No, I don’t want to prove it to my parents. Not… not anymore. I want to disappoint my parents.”

Nyir freezes. Lifts an eyebrow. “Hm,” she says. Her lips quirk at the edges. I think it’s a smile but I’m not sure. “Welcome to my regiment, Daso Argen.” Then she starts to walk again, leaving me alone in the training room.

I don’t really know what’s just happened. I know I’ve got a job, and a damn good one, and I know that somehow I’ve impressed her. I just can’t imagine how. Feeling oddly bare but also oddly confident, I grin, retrieve my bow, and head back home.

Step six. Act on results.

@TryToDoItWrite

HHMMMMMMMM!! YESSS! Good stuff right there :)
The big thing I noticed and then couldn't un notice was the lack of long descriptive sentences. I'm not saying that it's either better or worse for your writing, I'm just noting the style. It's very quick, fast paced, and in the moment kind of narrative. Your character doesn't pause to look at her surroundings and take note of them for the reader.
The reason that I'm seeing this is because I had a friend of mine recently point out that my narrative was the same way–dialog and action but not a lot of description–so it's fresh on my mind 😅

Now for the little things :)

  • Inhale. Draw to the corner of my mouth. I can almost taste the arrow. Hold the breath. Eye my target, aim, ready. Exhale. Release the arrow. Again. Again. Inhale, hold, exhale. Again. I do this every day, hours on end, until my hands bleed from overuse. I can’t help myself.
    With this whole bit, my eyes kept wanting to see a paragraph break to make the scene's pacing feel how I expect you want it to feel. If you were a screen writer, you'd be going for a close up shot of her face and the arrow on the first couple lines. With paragraph breaks, I feel you can get that pause and focus on her actions slower…if that makes any sense??
    Like this:
    Inhale.
    Draw to the corner of my mouth. I can almost taste the arrow.
    Hold the breath. Eye my target, aim, ready.
    Exhale.
    Release the arrow.
    Again. Again. Inhale, hold, exhale. Again. I do this every day, hours on end, until my hands bleed from overuse. I can’t help myself.

  • Also, in this particualar section, I can almost taste the arrow seems out of place? One of these things is not like the other, sorta. I'd change it to this, maybe: Draw to the corner of my mouth, where I almost taste the arrow.
    I don't know though. That's up to you.

  • I’m too young to graduate and too young to be here, but I’m here anyway. By Nyir’s demand.
    I struggle with this particular rule of thumb/grammar mistake. I know that the fragment isn't there because you aren't aware of it. You're aware of it and intentionally put it there, so honestly, you could leave it. But my little grammar nazi heart is screaming at me to tell you to change it to: I’m too young to graduate and too young to be here, but I’m here anyway–by Nyir’s demand.
    Me myself and I try to avoid fragments, unless for Super Dramatic moments.

That being said, I'm not going to correct your fragments every time in here. That'd take up valuable time and space for other stuff (tho I'm not sure what, this scene is lookin good)

  • At this point, it’s child’s play. I could hit these targets in my sleep and not even miss a snore.
    Here, the character seems totally confident with herself. She seems calm and confident. However, moments later, she isn't. She's nervous, but tries to appear cocky and sure of herself. This feels incongruous.

  • “No, I don’t want to prove it to my parents. Not… not anymore. I want to disappoint my parents.”
    Good dialog! This completely on instinct, but I feel like I want a pause in between "anymore" and the last sentence. If I was writing a screen play, I'd tell the camera to focus in on her face as she visibly made the decision to say the words, or in a play script, I'd call it a "beat." Just a moment of thought and suspension that leaves the reader wondering what she's going to say. You don't even have to do anything besides give a lil line in between like this:
    "Not…not anymore." I give a small sigh. "I want to disappoint them."
    (You know your character's mannerisms better than me, so you can choose her action/facial expression better than me. Also, i took out "my parents" because she said those words two lines before)

I think that's about it? I liked this! It was quick paced and kept me wanting the next line and I feel like I know more about your character coming away from this, which is always what you want in a scene
Nice job! :)
Keep it up and keep writing!

@WriteOutofTime

Thank you so much! I was trying my hand at first-person narration + present tense. There is only one thing that you got completely wrong, though: the narrator was a dude. Lol. Again, thank you so much for your helpful comments :D

@TryToDoItWrite

Okay lololol I was searching through your piece to find any indication of gender and I found zero so I just chose a pronoun and went with it @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime

@TryToDoItWrite

I took a look at Otis! I think the main thing I saw was the lack of a true character motivation. the common wish to live a decent life is not strong enough material for a character you're writing about. Give him a drive. Give him something that propels the story along. It could be as simple as he wants to be top in his class. He wants enough money to afford a car/college/a plane ticket. He wants to meet a girl.
he had depression in his past. That's a motivator (of sorts). think about it
Other than that, nice work!
Okay: on to Abram.
The most glaring thing about him is that his personality is overly simplified. He has two modes: punch or flirt. He's an egotistical bastard who hates his kid brother. It's a little bit cliched? I'd give the advice of let the audience feel a little bit of sympathy toward him. If he's the antagonist, let us understand him more and get inside his head. Give a deeper motivation for his hatred for his brother. Or better yet, have him only pretend like he hates his brother, to maintain his "reputation" around school and have him actually care about his brother on the inside. That could even result in a character arc where he ends up protecting his brother from other bullies and that'd let him end up a positive character. IDK these are just personal suggestions :)
There's a lot to think about with Abram. I think that he'll be a good character!
Annika:
Interesting! She looks like she'll be a good character to be along side of Otis, but like both Otis and Abram, I'd suggest giving her stronger goals. For a story to be there, each character needs to wants something.
Think about your story a bit more and take a look at your characters again! Find their motivations (like I need to find mine…lol)
Anyways! Nice job, keep it up and keep writing!

@TryToDoItWrite

Okay! I love the vibe I'm getting from this character..kinda rough around the edges loner but charismatic with good intentions. I do have a couple of things that I'll offer advice on:

  • his flaws are in contrast with his talents. You said that he's nothing without his gadgets..except an amazing hand to hand fighter, a genius, and expert rice cooker (lol). I'd detail his personality flaws there. Is he too vengeful? Is he too harsh? Is he egotistical?

HOLD ON!! I HAVe more I swear I'm out of time rn. I'll be back

@TryToDoItWrite

Okay, back!
More advice:

  • I think with the personality type, the only thing I'd say is that a leader and one who's friendly wouldn't probably prefer to travel alone. It's a little bit at odds with itself. I'd suggest nailing down his Myers-brigg personality type.

  • I read his whole backstory, and I feel like the bionic clones is a very strange idea. Like it's super out there so writing it will be difficult, but still…Go for it! I would suggest that his father being murdered should happen before he creates the clones. I feel like thats a situation that would need a bit more character motivation than simply fighting crime. Like, he fights on the streets in order to stay alive and learns to defend himself and all that, all the while looking for his dad in order to get justice/revenge. Then, he finds his dad and makes up with him. He's happy for a brief moment in time. Then his dad gets killed and he suddenly has a new motivation (a stronger one). He goes on to fight crime and develops the bionic clones. A perfect origin story!

(I also got on a bunny trail and looked at the character "senore bony" …lol dude..that's highkey hysterical)

Anyways! Nice job on the character..I really want to see him in an actual scene to get a feel for how he speaks and behaves. I think he's awesome :)