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Old 09-28-2012, 01:34 AM
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Default Untitled Story - Altered [2280 words]


This is a part of a story I have been working on but I feel that it's rather dull. I would love any ideas on how to improve it. I know my writing can be pretty undeveloped when it comes to descriptions so any advice is welcome.

Thank you in advance.

I HAVE MADE A FEW ALTERATIONS.



I was too sick to go to my sisters debutante ball so my parents went without me leaving me behind. I was looking for something in the kitchen when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. There I was in my grey T-shirt and black tracksuit pants. My long blond hair was dry, lifeless and could do with a brush. My plump lips were cracked. The skin around my nose was red and flaky from all the tissues I had been using. I wasn't looking my best. At least I still had outstanding cheekbones though.
I opened the pantry to find the bread and put it in the toaster. It was rare for me to have to make my own food. Mother had always done that for me. I didn't even know how to make anything other then toast. It was also rare that I had the house to myself. Mother was usually home. She was a housewife type while my father was a lawyer. We had a nice home and she kept it that way. My sister and I were lucky. We never had to focus on housework. We practically had everything handed to us.
I had just finished eating my plain toast. I liked to when I was sick. It helped scratch the throat. I staggered up the wooden stairs and and went into the bathroom. I pulled my tooth brush out of the cup where my sister and I kept our tooth brushes. My parents had their own bathroom. I squeezed the minty paste on the brush and began grinding the brush over my teeth. Sometimes my sister and I would have competitions on who could make the most foam from brushing their teeth. She usually won. She was always so competitive. I guess that’s why she was so good at everything.
I swayed through my door frame and into my bed. It wasn't long till I was asleep. My dream was like a montage of images. Most of the images were filled with these dark flower like creatures. They reminded me of hanging flowers. But black. But then the images began to rapidly change. A golden heart shaped locket was hanging off the neck of someone. I couldn't quite picture their face. The harder I tried the more hazy the image came. I head two knocks and the images imploded into this black eerie smoke. I was grasping for air but it kept filling my lungs. My eyelids ripped open and I sat up, panting for air. I patted down my chest to make sure I was okay.
“It's just a dream,” I said to myself when two more knocks made me jump out of my bed. “Mum?” Usually she would get the door. She also would usually check on me when I'm sick. My cold seemed to have gone but still. It was unusual. I rushed around the house opening all the doors. “Dad, Ashlee?” No one was home. There were two more knocks. I cautiously stepped towards my front door. For some reason I had a really terrible feeling. I placed my hand over the door knob and slowly opened it.
“Hello,” I choked in my sickly voice. There were two young men in the Victorian police uniform.
“Marylynne Rhades?” The one on the left asked. I opened the door a little wider.
“Its Mary,” I said. Both of the police had a grim expression on their faces.
“Can we come in?” I opened the door up for them as they walked into my house. I had an unwelcoming feeling in my gut and so to break the awkwardness I decided to offer them a drink.
“Tea or coffee?” I said as I flicked the kettle on. The both said in synchronisation, “Coffee.”
As I entered the lounge with their caffeinated beverages they stood to grasp their cups. We all sat, sitting across from each other.
“So why are you here?” I asked trying to ignore the butterflies trying to escape my gut.
“There's been an accident. You're parents car appears to have collided head on with a truck,” The one on the right said.
“Are they okay?” I asked. I felt the tears welling in my eyes. They exchanged looks and I knew the answer.
“Unfortunately no. But we're going to have to ask you to come with us to confirm their identities,” the one on the right said. I nodded, grabbed my jacket and rushed out the door towards their car. When we got to the morgue they lead me to the bodies. There were only two of them.
“What about my sister?” I asked. Hopeful that my sister was okay at least. I looked over to them.“There should have been three of them,” I said. They exchanged looks. I looked back at the bodies and ripped the sheet off one of them. The face was all mangled but it was definitely my mother. Her vibrant red hair gave it away almost instantly. Tears poured out of my eyes. I turned to the other body. When I ripped the sheet off I could hardly tell where the face was. It was mangled beyond recognition. It looked as if some kind of vicious animal had mauled his face and torso. I looked at the officers and spotted their shocked expressions. It was as if they had never seen bodies in this kind of state before and I hope for their sake they never have to again.
“Are you sure this was a car accident?” I said slightly shocked at the gorish state my parents had been left in.
“That's what we've been told.” one of them said. I placed the sheets over them both.
“It's them,” I said. We stood there silently for a moment. I finally said, “What about Ashlee?”
“She's at the hospital,” one of them said.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“I wouldn't say okay but she's alive,” the officer said.
“Can I see her?” I asked. They escorted me to the hospital. I'm not sure of the name but the outside walls were orange. I hated hospitals. My mother used to always say that, “You go into a hospital with one issue and leave with a dozen,” and she was right half the time. I went to the service desk.
“How may I help you,” The woman behind the counter asked.
“I'm looking for a patient. Her name is Ashlee Rhades,” I said.
“Are you a relative?” She asked in her deep husky voice.
“We're twins,” I said. The woman took a deep breath, stood up and lead me to the room where my sister was located. She was attached to so many different things. A heart rate monitor. A drip. There were a lot of things I didn't know as well which I can only assume was some kind of life support system.
“Is she okay?” I asked the woman. She sighed.
“I doubt she'll even wake up,” Said an aged women who was sharing a room with her. This women was quite large. So large that I doubted that she could even stand.
“Evon, don't be so insensitive,” said the nurse as she closed the curtain separating my sister from her. I went to speak but the nurse turned and walked out of the room. I turned to face my sister. Even with the stitches on her face she still looked beautiful. I sat on the chair next to her. I couldn't even cry. There was this overwhelming feeling suffocating me just like in my dream. No It wasn't a dream. It was an omen.
A man poked his head through the curtain. He was slightly chubby but he had a youthful look.
“Marylynne Rhades?” he asked. I nodded. He walked into the area. His khaki suit was obviously old but it suited him. “My names Brian Walters. I'm from social services.” This shocked me slightly. What were they wanting with me?
“What's going to happen?” I asked cutting straight to the chase. He walked over closer to me.
“Well you're only sixteen and so I'm here to make sure you're looked after,” he said. I slightly smiled a bitter smile.
“You mean foster care right?” I said.
“Not exactly. You see the foster care system is only available to those who don't have a willing and capable guardian,” he paused.
“So what's going to happen then?” I asked, obviously puzzled at who it could possibly be. “Do your parents have any close friends you could stay with until we can make some arrangements?” There was someone. My Aunty Lesley on my fathers side. Brian escorted me to my house to collect a few things and then took me to my aunties.
It had been a few days. I had been visiting my sister daily but she hadn't made any changes. It was the day of my parents funeral. There were nervous emotions building up in my core. What do I say? How d I react when people look at me with their apologetic eyes. Lesley had taken care of the eulogy. As I groomed myself up in the mirror I couldn't help but notice how exhausted I looked.
Lesley and her husband Miles drove me to Kyneton cemetery so we could say goodbye. As I climbed out of the car I noticed how empty the cemetery looked. Only my fathers family was there bar two people I didn't recognise. The women who was holding the funeral and an old man. He was a tall and frail old man. He was dressed in a black suit. His white hair was thinning. I had never met this man in my life.
“Who's he?” I whispered to Lesley. She looked as confused as me, “I have no idea.”
The funeral lady was nicely dressed. She walked up to my aunty and greeted her. They began to start talking secretly so I walked over to the caskets. Both my parents had matching caskets. They were a stained rose wood. Something simple. Lesley had picked them out.
“Gather around,” the nicely dressed funeral lady said. “We gather here today in name of Josaphine and Robert Rhade. I am sure the family thanks you for being here. Although it is sad to be here under such circumstances Josaphine and Robert wouldn't have wanted you to dwell on their deaths. They would have wanted you to celebrate their life. The fact that they lived. The fact that they existed...” The women kept speaking on talking about their lives and how they had two beautiful daughters as if she knew them. As if she knew us. But she didn't.
When the funeral was over my aunty escorted me to the wake. People were chatting and laughing as if nothing was wrong. As if no one had died. It wasn't until someone put on my mothers favourite song, 'Teir Abhaile Riu” by the Celtic women that my mood began to pick up. Yes they were gone but for some reason this song made me feel close to them.
The feeling that someone was watching me sunk into my mind. I sat in the corner scanning the room. Not one person would look at me. I began to move through the crowd of unfamiliar faces. Who were these people? They weren't at the funeral. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of someone looking at me. It was that old man. I felt a jerk on my arm. It was Lesley.
“They want to do the will,” She said. She led me into her bedroom where a few people were waiting. A man in a light suit was holding a file. He pushed his grey hair from his face with his lean hand.
“Hello. My name is Tony. I'm Josaphine and Roberts lawyer,” he said. I found this strange as my father had always claimed to be his own lawyer. He opened the manilla folder. He began 'Gifting' people new possessions. My aunty received the deed to the house.
“And finally Mr. and Mrs. Rhade have written that if in any thing happens to them their daughters Ashlee and Marylynne are to live in England with their Grandfather.” I was astounded. My aunty looked relieved. I was royally peed off.
“England? You want me to go to England? Better yet. You want me to leave Ashlee? As if she'd be able to go in her state,” I screamed. I was so angry. As if they were going to separate us when we had already lost our parents.
“Your flight for England is tomorrow evening. We've arranged...” he said as I cut him off. The more he spoke the madder I got.
“You mean to say you're sending me to another country while my sister lies comatosed?” I shouted. But there was no hope. All the arrangements had been made without my consent and without warning.
I barely remember the next day. I don't know if it was that I was traumatised or just plain numb but nothing seemed to sink in. I was just following the motions.
It wasn't till I was on the plane that I realised that this was all real and that there would be no going home. I didn't know if I would ever see Ashlee again. A man sat next to me on the plane. We had been in the plane for about three hours when he spoke to me.
“So what Brings you to England?” He asked. I smiled awkwardly. I decided its best not to tell the full story especially to a stranger.
“You wouldn't fucking believe it” I said. I looked out of the window. The view was beautiful. Crystal clear skies with light bouncing off the water particles. I'm not sure if they actually are water particles of just the hight screwing with my body but they looked pretty none the less. Its ironic how so much tragedy can happen and yet there still be some beauty left in the world.
“Oh, big move. Where are you moving?” He asked.
“I'm not exactly sure where it is,” I said. We didn't talk much after that. Soon after that I drifted to sleep.
“Marylynne,” I heard. I sat up. It was night. I looked around to see who had said my name. The man next to me was asleep and as far as I'm aware I never said my name at all. I just brushed it off as a dream.
The plane began to land. I pulled out a stick of gum and began chewing it. I'm not sure why but it help pop my ear when landing. All the people left the plane and so I followed them like cattle getting ready to be slaughtered. I waited for my bag. While waiting I looked at all the people waiting for the beloveds to return home. But who was waiting for me? I grabbed my bag and started patrolling the pick up area. This Grandfather I had never met, what did he look like? My eyes started scanning over each bit of paper that was in peoples grasps as they desperately waited. My heart skipped a beat when I saw my name. 'Marylynne Rhades'. I looked at the man. It was the man from the funeral.
I walked over to him.
“Are you my Grandfather?” I asked awkwardly. Him, understanding who I was slightly smiled.
“Not at all. I am but a mere butler,” there was something warm about this man. He made me feel a little better somehow. But suddenly his face hardened and he seemed like he was a totally different person. Cold.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“Your grandfather is headmaster at Titulus Crucis Academy where you shall be attending,” he said. He turned on his heel. I pulled my case behind me and continued asking questions.
“So, my grandfather. Is he nice?” I asked.
“I'll let you be the judge of that. Now I assume you brought your mobile and other gadgets. Those things are forbidden at the academy,” he said.
“Actually I left my phone at home,” I said. In all honesty I didn't really want to talk to any of my friends. I just wanted to be left alone.
“You should know at the academy there is no use of electricity and that attire you are wearing isn't appropriate either.” I still hadn't changed. He lead me to a horse and carriage.
“You don't use cars?” I asked.
“We have no use for such abominations,” he said almost as if he was offended. The trip to the school was so awkward that neither of us spoke the whole time. I just sat there in thought. What kind of world was I being thrown into and would I survive it?


Last edited by Filterdreaming; 10-01-2012 at 04:43 AM..
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Old 09-28-2012, 03:10 AM
Phoenix Lazarus (Offline)
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my sisters Debutante ball.
Missed apostrophe-should be 'sister's'.

At least I still had my cheekbones though.
'At least I had good cheekbones' might sound better.

She was the housewife type
That sounds like a comment on character more than what she does. You're perhaps better saying, 'She was a housewife,' to establish what she was, then saying, 'She was the housewife type,' to emphasise that that life suits her.

“It's just a dream,” I said to myself when two more knocks made me jump out of my bed. “Mum?” I called. Usually she would get the door. She also would usually check on me when I'm sick. My cold seemed to have gone but still. It was unusual. I rushed around the house opening all the doors. “Dad, Ashlee?”
Should start each bit of your own quoted speech with a new paragraph.

“There's been an accident. You're parents car
'Your' not 'You're' to signify possession.
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Old 09-28-2012, 03:18 AM
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Actually, Phoenix, speech by another character gets to start a new para. Continued speech by the same character can be in one para.

Even connected speech by two characters could be in one para, if done right and it's obviously connected and clear as to who says what.

“It's just a dream,” I said to myself when two more knocks made me jump out of my bed. “Mum?” I called. This tag isn't needed, because we already know who the speaker is.Usually she would get the door. She also would usually check on me when I'm sick. My cold seemed to have gone but still. It was unusual. I rushed around the house opening all the doors. “Dad, Ashlee?”
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Old 09-28-2012, 04:32 AM
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Originally Posted by Phoenix Lazarus View Post
Missed apostrophe-should be 'sister's'.



'At least I had good cheekbones' might sound better.



That sounds like a comment on character more than what she does. You're perhaps better saying, 'She was a housewife,' to establish what she was, then saying, 'She was the housewife type,' to emphasise that that life suits her.



Should start each bit of your own quoted speech with a new paragraph.



'Your' not 'You're' to signify possession.
I usually don't mess up "you're" and "your". Thank you for pointing that out. Also thank's for the other pieces of advice.

Originally Posted by luckyme View Post
Actually, Phoenix, speech by another character gets to start a new para. Continued speech by the same character can be in one para.

Even connected speech by two characters could be in one para, if done right and it's obviously connected and clear as to who says what.
I thought so. Some people have told me it's wrong and that every section of dialogue should be on a new paragraph. I feel it's pretty wasteful though.

Also thanks for the advice on the tagging. I tend to over tag sometimes.
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Old 09-28-2012, 08:54 PM
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Originally Posted by Filterdreaming View Post


It was June. My family had organised to go to my sisters Debutante ball. Unfortunately I had been sick and couldn't attend. I would have said something like, "I was too sick to go to my sisters debutante ball, so I was home alone." Organised is a weird word to explain her parents attending the ball. Also, telling the reader it's in June may not be necessary. I was looking for something in the kitchen when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. There I was in my grey T-shirt and black tracksuit pants. My long blond hair was dry, lifeless and could do with a brush. My plump lips were cracked. The skin around my nose was red and flaky from all the tissues I had been using. I wasn't looking my best. At least I still had my cheekbones though. Is this chick admiring her cheekbones or does she suffer from leprosy? I would lose the bit about the cheekbones.
began grinding the brush over my teeth. Sometimes my sister and I would have competitions on who could make the most foam from brushing their teeth. She usually won. She was always so competitive. I guess that’s why she was so good at everything. fun and hygenic! now, that's a good time!
I swayed through my door frame and into my bed. I liked that sentence. It wasn't long till I was asleep. My dream was like a montage of images. Most of the images were filled with these dark flower like creatures. They reminded me of hanging flowers. But black. But then the images began to rapidly change. A golden heart shaped locket was hanging off the neck of someone. I couldn't quite picture their face. The harder I tried the more hazy the image came. I head heard? two knocks and the images imploded into this black eerie smoke. I was grasping for air but it kept filling my lungs. My eyelids ripped open and I sat up, panting for air. I patted down my chest to make sure I was okay.

“Hello,” I choked in my sickly voice. There were two young men in the Victorian police uniform. victorian police uniform? I don't understand. Is that the name of the town?

“Unfortunately no. But we're going to have to ask you to come with us to confirm their identities,” the one on the right said. I nodded, grabbed my jacket and rushed out the door towards their car. When we got to the morgue they lead me to the bodies. There were only two of them.
little story telling issue here, the cops didn't do a great job breaking the news to her. I would focus more on that scene. Do some role play in your head. Try to make it more real.
“When was the expected crash?” I asked. realisticly I don't think a teenage girl would ask that. First question should have been, where is my sister? Hopeful that my sister was okay at least.
“Around 11:40pm” one of the cops said. I looked over to them.
“There should have been three of them,” I said. They exchanged looks once again. I looked back at the bodies and ripped the sheet off one of them. The face was all mangled but it was definitely my mother. I'd try to make the character come across as more devastated and shocked. you're narration is too casual. Tears poured out of my eyes. I turned to the other body. When I ripped the sheet off they would have removed the sheets for her. I could hardly tell where the face was. It was mangled beyond recognition. It looked as if some kind of vicious animal had mauled his face and torso. I looked at the officers and spotted their shocked expressions. It was as if they had never seen bodies in this kind of state before and I hope for their sake they never have to again.

“I wouldn't say okay but she's alive,” the officer said. again, these people get SOME training on how to deal with family members ... That is a horrible thing to say to this girl.
“Can I see her?” I asked. They got me to sign a few forms and decided I was free to go as I had done everything needed. Free to go with no legal guardian! What state does this take place in? They escorted me to the hospital. Oh1 They escorted her? Cool! I'd lose the other sentence then. I'm not sure of the name but the outside walls were orange. orange walls? bold choice! I hated hospitals. My mother used to always say that, “You go into a hospital with one issue and leave with a dozen,” and she was right half the time. I went to the service desk.
“How may I help you,” The woman behind the counter asked.
“I'm looking for a patient. Her name is Ashlee Rhades,” I said.
“Are you a relative?” She asked in her deep husky voice.
“We're twins,” I said. I think she would have said sister, or twin sister. it would be better if you told the reader they were twins at the very begining. When you mentioned the ball. The woman took a deep breath, (uh oh, that's not good ... )stood up and lead me to the room where my sister was located. She was attached to so many different things. A heart rate monitor. A drip. There were a lot of things I didn't know as well which I can only assume was some kind of life support system.
Everything I put in green was very well written. Great work! Really real!!!
“Is she okay?” I asked the woman. She sighed.
“I doubt she'll even wake up,” the woman walked out of the room. Nobody would say that!!! This was obviously nothing new to her. She said it so casually. yeah, but she's a bitch! She should be fired! I went to speak but the women turned and walked out of the room. I turned to face my sister. Even with the stitches on her face she still looked beautiful. I sat on the chair next to her. I couldn't even cry. There was this overwhelming feeling suffocating me just like in my dream. No It wasn't a dream. It was an omen.
A man in a khaki suit walked into the room. He was slightly chubby and shared the grim expression with almost everyone else I had seen that day.she could see the future!? Awesome!!!

“Well you're only sixteen and so I'm here to make sure you're looked after,” he said. I slightly smiled a bitter smile. That sentence is clumbsy. I'd junk it.
“You mean foster care right?” I said.

“Well your parents have written in their will that if anything happens to them you and your sister are to go to England to live with your Grandfather. Your sister of course in incapable in her state. You on the other hand are fine to go,” he said. I was astounded. That's happening a little bit quick but I like the story telling device ...
“England? You want me to go to England? Better yet. You want me to leave Ashlee?” I was so angry. As if they were going to separate us when we had already lost our parents. How ungrateful! I've wanted to go to England my whole life! She doesn't realize how lucky she is/OH RIGHT, DEAD PARENTS, forgot about the dead parents ...

“We should go,” he said. I felt a tear leak out of my eye. I leaned down and kissed my sister on the head. I knew it was no use fighting. These people follow a system that takes you by force. In real life, they probably would have kept the kid in the States, and the Relative would have flown over. If the relative could not travel there for some reason, friends of the family would watch over the kid while plans were being made.

I have a small problem with saying the "system takes you by force" for that reason.


We left and headed to my home. how about just, "headed home." Brian wanted me to only get my necessities and sentimental objects as I only have so much luggage space. I barely remember the next day. I don't know if it was that I was traumatised or just plain numb but nothing seemed to sink in. I was just following the motions.
It wasn't till I was on the plane that I realised that this was all real and that there would be no going home. I didn't know if I would ever see Ashlee again. A man sat next to me on the plane. We had been in the plane for about three hours when he spoke to me. also unrealistic, the social worker wouldn't take her home and force her to pack. And she wouldn't be on a plane the next day with her sister in a coma.
“So what Brings you to England?” He asked. "You're never gonna fucking belive it," I told him." I smiled awkwardly. I decided its best not to tell the full story especially to a stranger.
“Just moving to my Grandfather's,” I said. I looked out of the window. The view was beautiful. Crystal clear skies with light bouncing off the water particles. I'm not sure if they actually are water particles of just the hight light? screwing with my body but they looked pretty none the less. Its ironic how so much tragedy can happen and yet there still be some beauty left in the world.

The plane began to land. I pulled out a stick of gum and began chewing it. I'm not sure why but it help pop my ear when landing. All the people left the plane and so I followed them like cattle getting ready to be slaughtered. that doesn't really work here. Bad analogy. metaphor? What do you call that? I waited for my bag. While waiting I looked at all the people waiting for the beloveds to return home. But who was waiting for me? I grabbed my bag and started patrolling the pick up area. This
“Not at all. I am but a mere butler,” yes! There's a butler!!! there was something warm about this man. He made me feel a little better somehow. But suddenly his face hardened and he seemed like he was a totally different person. Cold.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“Your grandfather is headmaster at Titulus Crucis Academy where you shall be attending,” he said. boarding school!? Awesome!!! He turned on his heel. I pulled my case behind me and continued asking questions.
“So, my grandfather. Is he nice?” I asked.
“I'll let you be the judge of that. Now I assume you brought your mobile and other gadgets. Those things are forbidden at the academy,” he said. Michael Kane is the butler, I've already made up my mind ...

“We have no use for such abominations,” he said almost as if he was offended. When does this take place, 1920!?The trip to the school was so awkward that neither of us spoke the whole time. I just sat there in thought. What kind of world was I being thrown into and would I survive it?
Alright, great work! Pointed out a lot of negative above so let's start with the positive.

You clearly put a lot of work into this. That's the most important thing. You're a natural story teller, this wasn't sloppily thrown together.

I hope you know where it's going, hope you have your story structure planned out. Nothing ruins a good story then getting into the middle of it and realizing you've written yourself into a corner.

I like the possible supernatural element thrown in. I like the lifestyle change.

You might wanna make it more realistic in future installmetns, which I would read the crap out of, I very much enjoyed this piece.
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Old 09-28-2012, 11:39 PM
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Originally Posted by Rooster Smith View Post
Alright, great work! Pointed out a lot of negative above so let's start with the positive.

You clearly put a lot of work into this. That's the most important thing. You're a natural story teller, this wasn't sloppily thrown together.

I hope you know where it's going, hope you have your story structure planned out. Nothing ruins a good story then getting into the middle of it and realizing you've written yourself into a corner.

I like the possible supernatural element thrown in. I like the lifestyle change.

You might wanna make it more realistic in future installmetns, which I would read the crap out of, I very much enjoyed this piece.
Thanks for the input. I actually set this part in Victoria, Australia. Basically because I live here. I figured I should start with somewhere I am familiar with.

As for the policemen dialogue that's there until I can talk to my uncle (he's a detective in the Victorian police force) so he can help me with the protocol. He's currently visiting England though.

I'm glad you enjoyed it and I think I may take some of your ideas on board.
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Old 09-29-2012, 09:54 PM
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Originally Posted by Filterdreaming View Post
Thanks for the input. I actually set this part in Victoria, Australia. Basically because I live here. I figured I should start with somewhere I am familiar with.

As for the policemen dialogue that's there until I can talk to my uncle (he's a detective in the Victorian police force) so he can help me with the protocol. He's currently visiting England though.

I'm glad you enjoyed it and I think I may take some of your ideas on board.
That makes the victoria police thing make sense. Australia's a cool country. Would love to go someday.
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Old 09-30-2012, 02:57 AM
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Originally Posted by Rooster Smith View Post
That makes the victoria police thing make sense. Australia's a cool country. Would love to go someday.
And I would love to go to England. At the moment Australia is a freezign country.
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Old 09-30-2012, 04:06 AM
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Originally Posted by Filterdreaming View Post
And I would love to go to England. At the moment Australia is a freezign country.
I can assure you that England's not much better at te moment.

Rooster's picked up on pretty much everything I wanted to say. The only extra advice I could give is to pick a title, any title, for your story. It tends to attract more readers that way.
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Old 09-30-2012, 04:04 PM
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Filter,
I think this was a good storyline and the writing kept you interested but some of the content kept me guessing whether she was living reality or a dream state.

For example, the initial talk of dreaming segued into odd behavior from the cops, the hospital staff and the social service rep.

Everyone was so matter of fact even though they were dealing with a teenage girl who just lost both of her parents horribly and her sister to a coma. Also the social worker's shuffling her off to a foreign land seemed a little too rushed to be real.
What I'm saying is it almost seemed surreal (thus dreamlike).
If this was your intention...forget I said anything.

I liked the read and would look forward to seeing more. Echoing Rooster's sentiment, I too like the "lifestyle change". I think it whets the appetite for what could be in store for Mary.

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Old 09-30-2012, 05:00 PM
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I did want it fishy. I am not sure if it's surreal I am looking for but the reason it's so fishy is someone is pulling strings. I won't tell you who though.

Thank you for the advice.
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Old 09-30-2012, 09:48 PM
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Filter,
Hmmm...thought I might be on to something there...

No, no...don't tell me!

I'll keep watching.
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Old 10-01-2012, 04:46 AM
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I have updated the story and added a few new pieces. Of course these pieces are rough and need work. I have also taken on some of the advice. I still plan to add a little more advice from you guys but I mainly focussed on adding the new pieces as I wanted to see if they worked idea wise.
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