My aunt Susan woke me up at seven thirty-five Saturday morning. It was a chilly morning in Forks WA, clouds coated the sky like a blanket; dark and gray. I groggily walked to the washroom. The intense bright light was harsh on my morning eyes. I brushed through my tangled hair and tied it back neatly into a ponytail. Susan informed me I’d be catching the plane at 8:50 AM. I spent the remainder of my time getting ready– and prepared. I was moving; in with my mother in banal. This place was always the same; light sun, partly cloudy and the season changes barely caused an effect. Its considered dull, boring and unexciting maybe it would suit me better than I had thought. I used to go there for every holiday when I was younger, but now that house just brings up memories from before my dads death. And it didn’t help that my mom was one of those mothers that always had to understand my emotions. I couldn’t let one single teardrop trickle down my cheek without an interrogation. My aunt was single since her last break-up with “the one” two years back. So my company was greatly appreciated; it helped her cope. Her house was quiet and dusty, with so many “back then items”. I felt guilty leaving her all alone with only Nukite the Persian cat from next door to accompany her. However, I couldn’t just spend my life wasting away there forever. I would miss the city. I would miss the snow in winter and the blazing sun in the summertime. But I needed some time for me, some closure. I suddenly heard a few light taps on my door “ Kierston dear, are you ready?” she questioned, I felt it was two questions in one. “Yeah, be right down.” I lied. My voice sounded too shaky and a bit broken.
I sat in silence for a few moments before I heard the front door shut, she must be waiting in the car. Swiftly, I grabbed my green shoulder bag and dusty, old suitcase. I sprinted down the stairs and out the door. Once I was on the front porch I glanced back at the cherry wood house and headed eagerly for the car. I plopped myself into the front seat of Susan’s old white Mercedes. I glanced up at her face and noticed that her eyes were red. She must have been crying a lot. I faced straight forward pretending I didn’t see. She nervously cleared her throat and “ I supposed I couldn’t hold you here forever” was all she said. “Aunt Susan I-” I started but she held up her hand and cut me off. “ No worries, you need this kiddo”
I felt tear welling over my eyes but I tried to maintain it. “and you’ll visit every few months?” I insisted. “I will” she agreed.
“Also, Kiera feel free to comeback whenever you please” she offered with a warm-heartedness that made me feel awkward– I didn’t usually do the whole “emotions” package.
“Uh yeah, I have your e-mail” I joked lightly. We both laughed as we remembered how her computer was a dust collector in her closet. She never understood electronic technology….I always helped her with that”. A silence swept through the car, part of me was grateful when we finally arrived at the airport. I gave her a tight hug briefly and a boarded the plane. The flight was utter agony. There were too many people, it was as if we were all sardines crammed into one tiny can. The elderly man next to me was snoring the whole time but the young toddlers were slightly more annoying. They were constantly kicking my seat, screeching and crying. I didn’t bother ordering food or soda, I just wanted it to be over…now. I found myself fidgeting and biting my lip when the flight attendant announced we’d be landing shortly. Soon enough I was collecting my luggage. “Kierston!” I heard a familiar voice shout. I turned around and there she was, my mom ___ ____.
It astonishes me how different we are. She was wearing a pink ruffled spaghetti strap shirt and a brown mini skirt with matching stilettos. She always looked amazing and so girly with bright makeup and bleach blonde hair. And then theres me, with plain brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, a plain blue shirt and jeans with white sneakers, so ordinary never out-standing like my mother. We hopped into her flashy red Camaro. Everyone eyed the car, it stood out too much, I was hoping to slip into my new town silently not with loud sirens and spotlights! This car looked as if it belonged to a celebrity. It had leather seat covers and a chrome bumper with a rhinestone S on the driver’s side door. It would be a forty-five minute drive in this clown car to her house on orange grove avenue. Throughout this time we exchanged a few compliments and glances. Then, too soon, there it was, the house. It hit my like a ton of bricks when I saw it, memories raged in my mind but still I was shocked because it was different it was painted black and white with bright flowers in the garden and even a new mailbox- shiny and red of course. She noticed my expression “ uh yeah I have been having some renovations done lately. Wait until you see the inside!” she said with ease. Inside!?!, I struggled
Lack of proper grammar, paragraphs, and style, well, I’d say this is a young writer with limited or no experience.
At the youngest, 13. Oldest, 15.
Oh, a teen probably. I couldn’t really see this being written by someone much past their early 20’s at the most. It’s rather purple writing, reminiscent of a certain trashy teen romance sensation that I don’t care to name, and the subject matter isn’t all that interesting to anyone not in a similar position. There aren’t any real undertones or implicit messages and there isn’t a hook or any point of interest to keep the reader interested. To be honest, I would get very bored and quit reading probably a paragraph into it if I weren’t doing it to judge something. Also, the aforementioned trashy teen romance sensation seems to have influenced everyone to believe the stereotype that Washington is always clouded and miserable, which annoys someone like myself who lives in a very similar climate on the water. And this is coming from someone who suffered through Anne Rice, truly.
Sorry to be harsh, but I find that honesty is a good policy on this site.
12~14 years old. if a 18+ years old did this it’s not perfect.
I have read a LOT. I would say you are 13 or 14, but very talented. Let me give you just a tiny couple of constructive criticisms. Use paragraphs. Also watch out for using the same phrase too many times close together. Now please don’t be discouraged I am speaking to you as I would to an adult. You are talented, you can get your thoughts down and you can make a narrative. That is a lot going on for you. I didn’t pull punches is all because you do have ability. Constructive criticism is your best friend.
High school, because of the self concerns, judgements, and exaggerations. Some adults are immature and have no writing skill, so there is no way of really knowing the writers age. If you are an adult then you nailed this as a young teenager. The grammer is terrible.
Check these sentences:
Then, too soon, there it was, the house. It hit my like a ton of bricks when I saw it, memories raged in my mind but still I was shocked because it was different it was painted black and white with bright flowers in the garden and even a new mailbox- shiny and red of course.
It became the words of a child with really bad grammar. Sorry.
I’m going to sound a little harsh, but honest. It sounds like it popped straight out of a Twilight book, without good grammar or spelling, or paragraphs. I don’t think you’re even in high school yet. Get a friend to edit your work, someone you trust with your stories. Honestly, I think you could do better than this, so try harder. Don’t take this in the wrong way, you have potential, but Twilight fan fictions, and Twilight copies have been overdone, come up with a plot yourself
i would say 20 or so because of the circumstances and time frames of the situations in the story. who said this was a pro want to be writer?
12-15, maybe.
Uhg. The person who wrote this is obviously young. I couldn’t even get through it with the slaughter of punctuation. The transitioning was a mess; the first paragraph should be split into a few paragraphs because of the change of subject.
It mimics Twilight, so there’s no imagination. The thing I’ve noticed in regards to young writers is that they tend to mimic the style of their favorite books, in this case it’s Twilight, and by mimicking they include all the horrible things about it.
The fact that this person is writing Twilight fanfic indicates that this person is 1) young, and 2) a girl.
Adults would not make this many grammar and punctuation mistakes in their writing unless they: didn’t learn much in school; forgot what they learned in school because it’s been so long; or they didn’t proofread.
Since this could be much worse I would say this person is middle teens maybe 14-15. Someone who’s at least a junior in high school will write better than this if they’re being taught well.
Keep in mind that all of this is ignoring the lack of defined paragraphs breaks because I know you’re just trying to save space. (Hey, I’ve written very long posts, so I’m familiar with this tactic and it’s not held against you.) This is just my opinion.
12 year old girl. Forks, Washington? Come on, that’s where twilight takes place.
A few tips:
Don’t describe exactly how someone says something for every piece of dialogue. It distracts you from the story, I don’t know why teachers teach you to do that (its what they taught me) but it’s not good writing. For most cases you can tell from context how they said it and putting (insert character here) said will do (or just “quotations”).
Don’t overdescribe the scene or backstory (again, something teachers encourage for some odd reason). Too much description is as bad as too little. Only include details that are absolutely neccesary and relevant to the story. Honestly I only read a “paragraph” (really several, you need to change paragraphs when the subject changes) because it was too boring.
Ex: “Swiftly, I grabbed my green shoulder bag and dusty, old suitcase. I sprinted down the stairs and out the door.” Is it really relevant the color or age of the suitcases? Also, you can skip running down stairs and opening doors, readers can figure out the in between stuff.
Don’t copy from twilight, in order to write better you have to develop your own style, not someone elses. If you read a bunch of books you’ll find twilight really isn’t that good. Don’t just read what all the kids are reading, read classics, books you’ve heard of. They got that way because they are good.
Sorry if I sound really…negative. I mean you could be really good, if you just keep practicing, and find somewhere to write and be critiqued (it’s hard to judge your own writing, you’ll always think it’s good) and develop your own style. Yahoo Answers isn’t really designed for this kind of thing.
I write every day and online people assume I’m much older because I write so well, but really I’m only 15.