Sooooo, I have the beginnings of a story.. annnnnddd feed back would be AMAZING.

[bucketopolis.livejournal.com]

OK, so I've been working on this story for a couple of weeks and i would really apperciate some feedback on it... um,  yeah. It's about a girl who sees basically a parellel universe in anything reflective, like.. mirrors, shiny tile, water.. stuff like that.. yeah. ok... oh yeah, i hate the first paragraph.. suggestions? THANKS! 

Oh, and it kind of stops in a random spot.. lol, that it i promise! ok please read! oh please oh please!

Chapter One

Re·flec·tion: 1. the act of reflecting or the state of being reflected. 2. An image; representation; counterpart.

I’ve always known I was a little odd whether it was my lack of interest in Barbies and boy bands or the fact that sometimes there are people in my mirror that talk to me, I just don’t know.  It sounds crazy, but they’re real.

I use to keep a mirror in my room, a girl lived in the reflection of my room, she was my age if not a little older. Her skin was a strange color of gray, as if she had strolled out of a black and white movie. Most of the time she would sit there and just glare at me and never said anything. It was creepy and I ended up moving the mirror out when I was thirteen. That was almost five years ago.

Of course, my little sister, who shares the same room, wasn’t as happy about the mirror removal as I was. I suspect since she spends sixty percent of her life staring at her own reflection has something to do with it. We’re not exactly the classic story of sister who has an unearthly bond of friendship. It’s not like I don’t try to reach out and communicate but when your sister’s a clone of the latest pop icon it’s hard to get through without using dance moves.

In fact when I opened my eyes this morning it was my sister’s face leering over me breathing heavily, “Good morning, Sunshine,” she said in an octave lower and with a strange Russian accent.

“I’ve brought waffle for young gurl,” she continued thrusting a plate at me, “You, young gurl.” She turned and strutted away in what I guessed was her best man walk while scratching her butt.

I sat up and looked at the plate of still frozen waffles and two eggs not cooked. Claire always thought she was just so funny. Sure, she’d bring me breakfast, but ask her to actually cook it, “What do I look like, Betty Crocker”, She’d respond. I sighed and sat the plate on my night stand. I stood up and stretched and noticed a new hole in my sock, in my family you were lucky to get a hole less socks. My parents married young and started pumping out babies. Six in all, my brother Caleb was in his third year at State University, My brother Cameron was finishing up his first, me, my sister Claire who shared not only my room but school as a popular sophomore, and 9 year old twins Chandler and Cordelia. Apparently, my mother is obsessed with babies and the letter C.

“Cadence, why don’t you let me dress you today?” Claire squealed behind me as I searched for what to wear.

“Are you freaking crazy? Do you think I want to look like you?”

Claire sighed, “I don’t know why I try. I keep forgetting you think what you wear is actually in style.”

“Listen, I’m a big girl and I’m pretty sure I can pick out my clothes all by myself,” I cooed as I pinched Claire’s cheeks.  I reached in and grabbed the first t-shirt I felt without looking away at Claire.

“Oh! Look! I’m done!” I gave Claire the cheesiest smile I could muster and walked out of the room.

Heading down the hall I could hear my mother singing loudly and out of tune. It sounded like this morning she had decided to grace us with her rendition of Ah-hah’s Take on me.

“Take oooooon me, take me ooooooon, I’ll be goooooone in a day or twoooooooooooo,” my mother sang while dancing around the kitchen table dishing out of bowls of cereal. Chandler and Cordelia acting as back-up singer added “ohs” and “ahs” here and there while doing a coordinated hand jive. I sat down and picked up my fork that not only picked up a spoonful of cereal but also a bright green sock full of holes.  Cordelia snickered and Chandler raised his hand for a high five from Claire. I shot them all a dirty look and took my bowl to the kitchen sink, sock and all, and grabbed a banana instead.

“I’m leaving in two.” I said walking pass the dining room to the bathroom for a once over. I looked in the mirror and brushed my brown waves that some called hair and looked at my reflection, which, thankfully, was blissfully only me. My face was rather plain with a nose small and round, sprinkled with freckles that were starting to reappear now that summer was closing in, my lips were kind of full and my eyes were dark green and big.  I’m so average looking that I’ve actually been mistaken for other people. When I worked at the deli last summer a girl spent twenty minutes talking to me about friends I’ve never heard of at a school I’ve never been to. I acted like I knew them just to save the poor girl embarrassment. I checked the shirt I had chosen, it was red with a hand sewn rocket in different patterns that I had made out of boredom, and it clung at the right places. I wasn’t a stick figure like Claire, but on the other hand I wasn’t about to win any hotdog eating contests, I was average with a little meat. Completely normal looking. Too bad I’m pretty sure I’m crazy.

I stomped out to show everyone how annoyed I was with them. Stared daggers at Chandler while I gathered my messenger bag and books and walked back into the dining room.

“If I ever find a surprise like that again, you’re going to wake up with no eyebrows,” I said staring at Chandler and Cordelia.

With that I walked out to the car without a word to Claire. I opened the door to my hand-me-down red station wagon as Claire opened the passenger side. If there’s one thing Claire hates more than riding to school with me it’s riding to school with me in the wagon. I started the car and cranked up the tape deck. Claire physically shuddered as The Lion King’s Circle of Life started. I was a sucker for Disney songs; it was probably my mother’s bad taste of music in me. I sang just as loud as the radio making sure to take every moment to embarrass my sister.

As I parked in the parking lot of the school my sister dashed out of my car as fast as possible. She took off into a sprint to the front door. I laughed and followed at a slower pace. As I walked up to my locker I saw a familiar silhouette leaning against it. The boy was tall and lean with spiky blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and just happened to be my “Bestie Guy” as Claire called it. We had been friends since middle school and he has been the local gay since freshmen year. He was wearing the latest wizardry shirt and jeans that had an I Am Broadway pin on them.

“Fierce shirt.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a victim of reality TV catch phrases too. I think I might gauge out my eyes now.”

“Oh, please. This, coming from the girl who sang a Pinocchio song at the most infamous keg party last year, what an outrage!”

“I was just trying to set the mood,” I snapped.

“No, you were just drunk,” Guy snapped back.

“Yeah, because last I checked Pepsi was high in alcohol content.”

“Well, when you have vodka mixed in with it, it is subject to change,” Guy snapped.

 “You silly boy, where have you been! It feels ages,” I said quickly trying to change the subject.

Guy raised an eyebrow at me and shook his head knowing it had only been eight hours, “So, I heard Cameron’s coming home for spring break next week,” Guy said huskily. He put a hand over his heart and swooned, “Doesn’t that boy know he’s my prince charming yet?”

“Yep, that’s defiantly gross. Now I’m going to think about you throwing rocks at his window trying to pull a Romeo and Juliet scene. Now have to make sure his windows are locked and reinforce his door so you can’t casually drop in when he’s in the middle of dressing, again.” Guy laughed at this last remark. Cameron still has issues getting dressed when Guy’s over.

“Oh, you love it,” he teased.

We walked to our first class which happened to be an independent art study. It also happened to be taught by my mother. If Guy was the local gay then my mother was the local crazy, her class was complete with a moose head wearing sunglasses hanging on one of her walls for decoration.

My mother was messing with a painting of a rusty bucket she’d been working on for a couple of weeks and had California Dreaming playing softly in the background. She smiled as we got out our paintings and joined her. Guy was a talented artist and was working on painting the picture off the Hairspray playbill, I was messing around with a painting I had done of the girl who use to live in my room.

“Where do you get these images?” Guy asked while looking at my picture, “They truly are creepy, stuff out of nightmares. Do you need a hug or something?”

I forced a giggle and pulled out a new canvas. I tried to change the topic as quickly as possible.

“So, mom, what’s this big news you have for us?” My mother had been ranting and raving all week about huge news she had for us but was unwilling to tell us until tonight. My mother cackled at my weak attempt to crack the secret.

“You know you have to wait, just like everyone else. Oh darn it; I forgot to check my mailbox this morning. Would you mind Cadence? I’d really appreciate it. “

I got up and headed out the door. Walking in the empty hallways was something I absolutely hated. It wasn’t just the ultra shiny tile, or the big red lockers that lined the hallway, it was the feeling that something was following me.

I was in the middle of a thought about my brother and Guy when I stepped on an empty water bottle and fell on my face.

“Frick,” I muttered. I stood up and brushed off my hands. I bent down to pick up the empty bottle when I saw a boy standing at a locker a little ways down the hall, I looked up and no one was there. I looked back down and studied the boy; he was resting his head on his arm leaning on the locker. He looked sad.

“Nice bit of crumpet there,” a fake British accent said from behind me followed by a mass of giggles. I turned around to see Claire with three of her ever changing “besties”.

“Claire, you have the fiercest accents.” One of them giggled.

“Totally Claire, you’re so funny. I’ve never met anyone funnier than you,” another chimed in.

“And, they totally sound realistic.” The third one added just so she wouldn’t be excluded. Claire laughed and gave a well practiced hair flick. I rolled my eyes.

“If it isn’t Bimbo Barbie and her less famous companions, do you need directions to the bathroom?” Claire scowled at me and stomped away while her lackeys trailed behind trying to comfort her. I looked back down at the reflective boy and saw he was no longer resting his head. He was looking up. Actually, he was looking down, and he was looking directly at me. He had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Our eyes locked and I felt the most intense pull towards him. We looked at each other what seemed like forever then he abruptly slammed his locker, turned the opposite direction, and walked away.

 

Chapter Two

I’ve never felt such a connection before. I’ve seen these people loads of times, but this boy looked like he knew something about me and I felt I knew something about him as well. It shook me to my very core. I gathered my mother’s mail and walked slowly back to her room, taking the longest route. I wanted to see this boy again, to actually try to talk to him.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day was uneventful. At lunch me and Guy did our best impressions of Edna Turnblad, from Hairspray, and compared arm hair to see whose was longer. At the end of the day there was a crude note taped to my locker written in crayon that said Crumpet’s a little stale, obviously the crafty work of my evil genius sister. I ripped the note down and tossed it into the trash can.

When I got to my car Claire was standing near enough for me to know she needs a ride but not close enough for anyone to figure out whose car she’s waiting for. I made a big show of waving my arms and shouting, “Claire! Claire! My favorite sister! We’re parked over here. Did you forget? We ride together every day! ” Claire turned a deep red and quickly got in the car.

“Is this your idea of cruel and unusual torture?” Claire snapped once we were heading down the road.

“Listen here sister,” I said in a sassy tone, “if you’ve got a problem you can always ride home with mom. I’m sure she’d love the company.” I could feel Claire shrink down in her seat at the thought of riding in mom’s minivan. “Well, now that that’s all cleared up.” I began, “what do you think the big news is?”

“They’re probably getting a dog or something,” Claire said nonchalantly.

“No, I don’t think becoming pet owners would make such a tizzy,” I stopped, thought about it, and then corrected myself, “well, maybe it is a dog.”

At dinner that night Chinese boxes over flowed the long kitchen table, some were unopened others were completely empty and laying on their side. Chandler and Cordelia practiced drum solos and sword fighting with their chopsticks while Claire awed about her fortune cookie.

“This is so weird, because, I really did make a hard decision today. How do they always know?”

After diner there was tenseness in the air, everyone was waiting for the news, and my mother being one for dramatics waited until dinner was cleaned up and everyone gathered in the living room.  

Since there was so many of us my parents had squeezed two couches in the small living room. So, everyone had plenty of space. My parents stood in front of the television as if they were conducting a meeting.

“Well, I know you all are probably wondering about this news your mother has been talking about,” my father began, “As you know, our house has been having problems lately,” by problems he meant that the twins room was more of a toxic site than a bedroom, the whole house needed painted, there were giant holes in the walls were Cameron and Caleb had ‘sibling rivalry’, and I’m pretty sure the second floor toilet hasn’t worked in three years, “so,” my dad continued.

“So, we bought a new one!” My mother squealed.

I felt my jaw hit the floor.

“It’s much bigger and most everyone will be able to have their own rooms!” she continued excitedly, “it’s got a huge yard, and it’s out in the country, but, it’s also kind of a fixer upper.”

“Where is it?” Claire asked.

“It’s got the funniest name, Bract Manner.”

“Bract Manner!” Claire screamed, “Are you crazy! That’s some crazy crack house homeless people live in!”

“Now, honey,” my father began, as he was often the mediator of conflicts in the family, “it just really isn’t that bad.”

“And Claire, think, you get your own room!” my mother added. Claire paused and thought for a second, the idea of living with homeless crack addicts seemed to be worth it if she didn’t have to live with me.

“Wait,” I interjected, “when exactly are we supposed to move in? I mean, we’ll be able to fix it up and then move in, right?”

“Well, see honey,” they paused and looked at each other, “we put our house on the market first, you know, just to see if we’d get any offers. Well, we got one, a big one, the only condition is we’re supposed to be out in two weeks,” my father said slowly.

“What?” was all that would come out of my mouth.

“We’ll be moving out during spring break?” Claire asked shocked.

“Like you have plans,” I muttered. Claire’s idea of spring break was constant sleepovers that consisted of pillow fighting and guy talk until 4 in the morning. I usually spent all spring break sleeping on the couch.

“But! But! But!” the twins started shouting together. Then everyone started shouting over everyone else. My mother trying to calm the twins who had started crying and hugging all the walls shouting, “I may never see you again!” My sister shouting at me and anyone else who would listen to exactly how many plans she had for spring break. My fathers trying to reassemble back some peace and order. I retreated to my room as quickly as I could.

Sitting on my bed I turned over each event that had happened that day. First, the boy at his locker. Why did he look at me like that? Now, a new house, well, a fixer upper. I’ve heard of this Bract Manner, supposedly a wealthy family lived there many years ago until the mother started claiming the devil was in love with her. He was going to make her his bride or something, can you imagine, the queen of Hell? Creepy. Then a couple days later the whole family disappeared, leaving the house and all their belongings. I remember the house was some sort of museum but it lost all its funding and shut down, where it’s housed crack addicts and Satan worshipers ever since. I made up my mind that I would take Guy tomorrow and we would check out this Bract Manner.

----

“Are you crazy?” Guy snapped when I told him my plan the next day during lunch. He wasn’t as up for adventure as I was.

“Guy, what’s the big deal? I’m going to be living there in a week.”

“And I’m going to miss you.”

“And, what exactly does that mean?” I scowled.

“Girl, do I look like a Blair witch fan? I won’t be coming there. Creepy things happen. You guys are going to turn into the Addams family in there. Pretty soon your sister’s going to sound like Lurch.”

I gave Guy a dirty look and said firmly, “Fine, if you’re going to act so homosexual I’d rather you not go. There’s nothing worse than a scared gay man.” With that I stood up from our lunch table and stomped away.

Sitting in my next class, chemistry, I felt eyes on me, I looked next to me I saw that it was Ralph Dickson, who Claire dubbed “tasty”. I smiled politely at him and tried to send “stop staring at me beefy” with my brain. He smiled more broadly and even gave me a nod with his eyebrows. What did this guy think he was doing giving me bedroom eyes? Was he drunk?

Right then my cell phone buzzed, I looked down at my pocket then at Ralph, he gave me a nod. I opened the cell and saw I had a new text.

H R U QT?

It was like he was trying to communicate with me, unfortunately I was horrible at speaking letters.

What?

I sent back. He laughed when he read it.

Wait for me after class.

He replied. I gave him a quick nod and turned my attention back to atoms.

After class I was walking out the door and I heard Ralph yell, “Hey, Cadence!” I had “forgotten” to wait for him, so I slowed down and waited by the door. When he walked out he gave me another dazzling smile, “How are you?” he asked.

“Fine, how are you?” I asked awkwardly.

“I was wondering what your plans for this evening are,” he asked.

“Oh, you know, exploring creepy abandoned houses my parents decide to buy and move into.” I said casually.

“Oh yeah? That sounds awful dangerous, you might need some extra muscle incase ghosts jump out and scare you.” He mocked, “Maybe that extra muscle should be me. Yes, it defiantly should be me,” he said smiling and giving me a gentle nudge.

“Wow, you actually want to go with me? Don’t you have some crazy awesome man stuff you have to do tonight?” I said and nudged him back.

“Nothing I can’t reschedule,” he stopped and looked right into my eyes, “come on Cadence, are you kidding, danger, excitement, and possible romance?” He gave me a wink, “Besides, this way we can get to know each other. I’ve been noticing you for a while, and I don’t know if you want to hear this, but, you’re totally cute.”

I actually blushed, not many boys had asked me out, and those that did I’d talked out of it by dangling my sister in their face, erasing any crush on me and developing outright devotion to Claire.

“ Well,” I said eyeing him, “I suppose a little backup might not be a bad idea, Bract Manner, 4 o’clock?”

“I’ll see you then,” he said after looking in my eyes for a moment more. He turned and walked down a hallway to his next class.

The rest of the day my attention span was gone, I was analyzing whether or not I could actually like Ralph, if he was compatible. He was quite handsome, with blonde hair that had a slight shag style. He was built well, and had a little extra tone from playing football but not enough muscle to look like his arms were swollen balloons. His eyes were gray and kind, and his smile was broad with teeth that gleamed white. Ralph had the trendy style of polo shirts and expensive jeans that were professionally torn. He was a poster boy for everything all-American. He was smart and ranked high in our class but on the other hand, he was a big partier. He was in all the classic drunk stories, either playing the main character or supporting role. Actually, I’m pretty sure he dated Katelyn Stillwell; whose dad, conveniently, owned the carwash that Ralph worked at. She had left for college in the fall, but I didn’t know they had actually broken up.

As I walked towards my locker I saw a familiar body leaning against it. Guy had his puppy dog eyes turned up and handed me a homemade card in the shape of a cupcake. Inside the card said, “For you I’ll never be a scared gay man. I’m sorry, let us make amends with a lap dance.” I laughed and hugged Guy.

“I’m willing to go with you,” Guy said shyly.

“Don’t worry about it, Ralph is accompanying me,” I said nonchalantly. Guy’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“Ralph Dickson? You mean King Keg stand? How did this happen?”

“I have no idea,” I said shaking my head. It seemed like I had bought a one-way ticket to the twilight zone.

  “You know the drill girl; call me if any action occurs.” Guy thought he was privileged to any juicy details about my life. Unfortunately up till now nothing remotely interesting had happened.

            When I pulled up to Bract Manner Ralph was standing by his green neon. He was dressed in dark jeans and a forest green polo shirt. He looked pretty, I laughed at that thought as I got out. He came up to me and gave me a high five.

“Did I win something?” I asked puzzled.

“No, I think any lady who ventures into a house as creepy as this alone deserves some kind of award. Thus, a high five.” He smiled and winked at me.

I turned to look at the house and my breath caught in my throat. I was glad Ralph thought I was brave before because looking at this house now, I knew I would never go in it alone.

It was white plantation style house with a wraparound porch with broken planks every few steps. Most the windows were broken and the few that weren’t were spray painted black. The lawn was overgrown and sprinkled with trash left by people who had passed by. The door was spray painted with a red pentagram and a red hand print that smeared to the left, giving the effect of smeared blood.

“And to think, my parents thought this was a bargain.” I said to myself. I got my flashlight from the passenger side seat and headed towards the door. Ralph slowly followed behind with his own flashlight.

The door was locked; I produced the key my mother had supplied me with. I felt the soft clank of the lock and the door creaked and I swung it open. It was now or never. I gasped as the open door revealed a large pallor. The walls were once a dark purple but now had faded into a mixture of purple and mold there was a grand staircase to the right and long hall on the left that lead to the rest of the house, the staircase was missing most of its steps and the rail was split in half with half still holding on and the other half laying on the ground. A coat rack was directly on the left of the door and a large trunk that had a bolt lock on it sat next to it. Clothes still hung on the coat rack, they looked old and torn. I clicked on my flashlight and looked at Ralph, he was still looking all around with his jaw dropped, and I grabbed his hand and lead him down the hall.

“Come on stud,” I said.

The first door was on the left, we opened it to reveal a study there was a big desk in pretty good condition except for the fact it had a couple layers of dust. It was covered in papers and open books. The walls were all bookshelves; books were sporadically placed on them. The floor was covered in an old red imprinted rug that curled at the edges. It had a large black spot in the middle.

“Very Sherlock,” commented Ralph. He was right, I could see this being a place you’d come to sit down and solve mysteries.

He pulled me from the door way and pulled me into another room. It must have at one time been a sitting room, there were several broken chairs and tables, a large cough with springs sticking up sat against the main wall next to yet another fire place, the window frames were very long reaching from the floor to the ceiling, there was lots of light, there was also gross dolls that had been mutilated hung from the ceiling by nooses. The floor was wood but had so been so banged up there may have been one or two good planks left.  

 

Comments

[kathleen-liz.livejournal.com]

um... if you don't post the rest of this soon, i might go crazy, hunt you down, hold you over an enormous pot of boiling olive oil and force you to tell me the rest. i'm hooked. i love it.

[bucketopolis.livejournal.com]

lol,

oh you will have the rest, but its kind of a slow process right now i try to write as often as i can but, i also have a 20 months old son who like to help mommy "type" by banging on the keys. haha, but yes, i'll post as soon as i get a new chapter going..

also i made this livejournal specifically for this story so if you check my livejouranl i always add whatever i written that day to it.

[the-mome-wrath.livejournal.com]

Very interesting plot. The reflections she see really has me curious.

The story seems to "tell" more than "show" but this might be because of the explanations of each new character that shows up. Rather than having Cadence tell the reader about every character you can have the new character show some of the qualities that you want the reader to know. You can do this by the appearance of their outfits or just the things they do. Currently, some of the supporting characters seem to be very stereotypical such as Cadence's sister. Hopefully as the story goes on she'll show herself as being outside of the mold.

There also were a few confusing jumps in the story. It could have just been because I'm tired, but I got confused when they got to school and then suddenly she was talking to her mother since I didn't realize at first that her mother worked there and they were in her class. A to sentence could clear this up might be helpful.

All in all a good start to the story. I look forward to reading more!

[bucketopolis.livejournal.com]

i see what you mean, i've been thinking about it a lot.. my thought patterns are kind of spacey anyways and right now i'm just trying to get it all down before i end up forgetting or lose interest. I think as the story goes on i get a little more comfortable with "showing" rather than "telling" so i need to work on that begining. but i apperciate the feedback!

[drake-tailspin.livejournal.com]

Very interesting.......

I'd like to have read more about the parallel universe.......
all in all, a good start.

[bucketopolis.livejournal.com]

thank you...

I hope to keep you interested in the future as well.

[duke-flieg.livejournal.com]

Well, I tried to comment earlier today and go timed-out, so here is another go.

Interesting premise, it's either ghosts or something else and it's definitely interesting. Your protagonist is interesting. As the_mome_rath noted, some of the sideline characters are more caricatures, but that can change.

Now on to the critique.

First: Please, please, please re-format the story. The centered text gives me no context and no real sense of paragraph length or when there is a quick bit of dialogue. I may be old-fashioned in this, but I found the formatting interfering with my reading of the story. You really don't want anything interfering. (Sometimes centered text in small amounts can be used to good effect, but in large blocks it is wearing.)

Second: The spell-check function in your word-processor is *not* your friend. I didn't spot any misspelled words, but I spotted many that were obviously inappropriate. As a striking example, the Bract Manner might be an inherited personality trait in the family, or a sense on their part that they are better than others. The Bract Manor is the house they used to live in.

Third: I see a lot of surplus words, usually telling the reader what you just showed them. For instance:

“Are you crazy?” Guy snapped when I told him my plan the next day during lunch. He wasn’t as up for adventure as I was.

“Guy, what’s the big deal? I’m going to be living there in a week.”

The sentence "He wasn't..." just isn't needed. It's already clear that Guy is not up for adventure, and the rest of the passage shows it.

Finally: Punctuation is the instructions for how to read the words. Your punctuation is spotty and you tend to generate run-on sentences. While that voice can be very effective in conveying a certain personality, that personality is more Claire than it is Cadence. In addition, punctuation and sentence structure points out to the reader where the important bits are.

I will attempt to demonstrate what I mean on your first paragraph (the one you weren't fond of anyway). This involves both punctuation and the extra words aspects. You wrote:

I’ve always known I was a little odd whether it was my lack of interest in Barbies and boy bands or the fact that sometimes there are people in my mirror that talk to me, I just don’t know. It sounds crazy, but they’re real.

I use to keep a mirror in my room, a girl lived in the reflection of my room, she was my age if not a little older. Her skin was a strange color of gray, as if she had strolled out of a black and white movie. Most of the time she would sit there and just glare at me and never said anything. It was creepy and I ended up moving the mirror out when I was thirteen. That was almost five years ago.

I would suggest as one possible re-casting of the same information:

I've always known I was a little odd. I've never been interested in Barbie dolls or boy bands, and clothes are just what I wear to keep me warm and decent. The fact that sometimes I can see people in a mirror and the fact that sometimes they talk to me is only a bit odder.

I used to have a mirror in my room. There was a girl that lived in the reflection. She wasn't one of the ones that talked; she'd just sit there and stare at me. She was my age, about 13 at the time, and she was all shades of gray, as if she had come in out of a black and white movie.

Five years ago I got rid of the mirror, much to the dismay of my sister Claire.


I hope that you can see the difference in the telling -- I tried as hard as possible to keep your words. (I really liked the images that she had strolled out of a black and white movie.)

-- In service to the words ...

[bucketopolis.livejournal.com]

oh thank you! very helpful indeed.

[shayna611.livejournal.com]

I like the premise and I find the characters compelling. I really like the casual style and word choice - it definitely has the feel of being told by a teenage girl. I don't think it matters that a lot of it is told rather than shown at this point, because it is in the first person and Cadence is introducing us to her perceptions of everyone else.

I think you need to take your spell check out and shoot it (or at least 2nd guess it when you're running it), because I have a feeling some of the out of place words were accidentally handed to you by it. She opens the door to reveal a large "pallor" instead of "parlor" and there is a "cough" with springs sticking out instead of a "couch".

Your grammar could definitely use some work. I pretty much have to agree with the previous post there. A lot of the sentences kind of run on. I would suggest reading it out loud or (if it works for you) at least voicing it in your head. You can see where you naturally make pauses and add commas or separate sentences.

I definitely want to see more, please.

interesting

[gracieblove.livejournal.com]

It does sound very interesting. I'd love to see more, I think there are some grammer errors, and possibly some word choice, but nothing major. I know what you mean about kids helping write, mine is 7months old, and so very helpful :)

Hope to see more soon.