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Some Amateur Writing


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I'm posting this on the behalf of a friend of mine. I believe she can write very well, but she doesn't think she can. She has given me permission to post what she has written so far, and would like opinions on it. Keep in mind she is only 16.




Not now is the phrase that is currently racing through my mind. I wonder why the alarm can never ring when I want it too. I roll out of bed in a catatonic state and get dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. I can smell a disgusting aroma, also known as my mom’s cooking. Of course, everybody tells her how delicious it is. As a matter of fact, it has become her newest leisure pursuit. I find it quite humorous. I drag my feet downstairs where the rest of my family is waiting.


“Do you want some breakfast?”, my mother inquires. I ignore her and pour myself a bowl of Lucky Charms. I haven’t been able to look at a bowl of cereal the same since my best friend Jake explained his most recent conspiracy theory to me. According to him, the Lucky Charms leprechaun is a pedophile, the Coco Puffs bird is a junkie, and Tony the Tiger is obviously conceited.


I can’t help but recollect his story as I munch down on this bowl of sugary goodness. “I can't trust the leprechaun. He's a pedophile if you ask me. He gives out cereal to unsuspecting kids and tells them that it's magically delicious. He tells them that their is always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and then he makes them smoke pot. After he gets them high, he touches them in inappropriate places.” My best friend is obviously an idiot. Note to self, get new friends.


Normally I would find a tale like that quite humorous, but I’ve been thinking more maturely lately. At one point of my life my sense of humor was quite warped. I used to tell my little sister that the boogie man was real just to see the bags under her eyes in the morning. Now my idea of fun is political banter and watching CNN. It’s sad really. That’s life for you. When you’re finally enjoying living, the joy disappears in an instant and is replaced with something less desirable.


My parents sicken me. It’s always Katie this and Katie that. They brag on her profusely. They don’t realize that Katie is a raging idiot and a * * * * on top of that. As we sit at the table eating our breakfast I can barely get a word in because of their constant rambling about how great Katie is. Once they get their heads out of their butts they will realize that she’s not special at all. If they were to know about her and John in her bed, all of the late nights out, and what really happened to Fluffy they would hate her. They would hate her like they hate me.


The truth is I’m the one that is special. I’ve always know this. It’s just a premonition I suppose. I’m going to be the one to save this world from oblivion. How I’m going to do it isn’t important, at least for now. Just know that I am the chosen one.


People call me crazy. Those people don’t understand me. If they could spend one day in my shoes they would realize that I’m completely practical. Of course that will never happen so I’ll just have to deal with their ignorance onto death.


I can honestly say that I don’t care about what other people think about me. This world is full of misinformation. A large portion of it is gossip. A good reputation is overrated. I could be hated for all I care.


People have labeled me as a cynic, when in all actuality I am just rational. I don’t trust the human spirit. I know humans are always looking out for themselves and they will do anything to get their way. I’ve been labeled as an upsetting person. I am a purveyor of truth. If someone can’t handle the truth then so be it. I’ve been called weird, but who are they to decide what is normal. If normal is everybody else then I am happy to be weird.


I gulp down an ice cold glass of orange juice and head out the door. My mother tells me to have a great day and I roll my eyes. My dad always scorns me for doing that. He’s not my real dad though. He has no power over me.


I step outside and the air is frigid. The wind feels as if someone is constantly drumming me in the face with a popsicle. I have to walk to school because my parents are too lazy to take me.




This is all she has written so far. Opinions on it would be greatly appreciated. Comment on what could be approved on, or anything else really.



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Anybody who wants to write has potential. Success in writing is often more about persistence than anything else.


Structure, that's a real difficulty, that will be a test for her too, of course this extract is perfectly good in its structure.


The writer is certainly a person, she has a personality and a certainty. The question of success in writing is often about how the reader can relate to the writer, and suprisingly enough this doesn't have to mean that the reader agrees with the writer (or should i more accurately say character), i'm reading a book at the moment where i really enjoy a character that i feel i shouldn't like.


The first paragraph, for me, seemed less than perfect, but i often find that i dislike the beginnings of all storys, before the tone sets in it is nothing but a script (for me, in general, and not in any way pinpointing this extract).


I read on because i wanted to read on, she captures you, already she is making the reader ask questions, who is this friend, what is his story, why does he think these things, i can see potential gathering, she seems a lone ranger, but the friend is there already, what influence has he over her, how is this going to progress. (but the introduction to a story i find is one of the easiest things to achieve).


However, i read this as if it was part of a book, one that i expect to mutate in a certain way.


It is a good introduction to a character, it is good to be able to see how the character feels, as they are initially. Storys are about plot, at least on the outside, but really they are about character development, sometimes characters will revert, but they develop progress and change, that is the difficult thing about writing.


I worry because i see a possibility where the writer does not see the potential of the character, perhaps does not fully understand what a reader may want to gain from a story. A certain amount of dislike is instinctive towards this character "I am the chosen one" "I am a purveyor of truth", but that is perfectly fine, i have seen that kind of thing in storys before, if the character does not develop or perhaps even preferrably unravel to a certain efficiency then this story wouldn't be very appealing, the reader would not or would doubtfully be interested in the diarys of an abstract mind, that could potentially shun the world of the reader (or more so the subtle ideas and principles that people look for in books to help them guide their own lives) and wouldn't give that feel good factor that, lets face it, is the reason most of us read.


The character has self-righteousness, which is as i again say, perfectly acceptable, a character is labelled such because it is a character, but you must either let the reader in to understand the characters mind, to find acceptance, or to let the reader understand the influences in her life by other people or situations, or to present a stage, and a progression.


Anybody who wants to write should write, i think everybody has at least one masterpiece inside them. tell her to go for it!

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honest feedback..


..it was very 16 year old. the subject matter was whiny and pretentious. the presentation was nothing special. i'd say she can write better than your average 16 year old kid but, truly, that isn't saying much.


she is not a prodigy, but there is certainly a flare for writing there. i would recommend to her to read, read, and also read. read a lot. it helps.

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