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Review of Savaged  Open in new Window.
for entry "PrologueOpen in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (2.5)
Hi,

The following review is completely subjective, and based on my own personal preferences and experiences. I comment on the concepts in the story, and how well it reads, rather than the technical aspects, which are not my strength. Please feel free to take or leave any of my comments :)

Now, what I generally do is go through your work and mark it with corrects, and suggestions, then add a final comment at the end. So, without further adou ...



Daniella had always been notorious for not planning things carefully but this time she had taken it too far. It had barely taken twenty-four hours to plan her just take the babies and run approach to escape the strong hold of her sadistic husband and his even more psychotic business partner(this sentence is very long, and is a bit cumbersome to read. Maybe chop it into two or more). She’d tried to think of at least a decent plan but in the panic of the situation, she could only grab her two baby boys and run as fast as her legs could carry her (In the sentence prior, it sounds like she has 24 hours to plan something, but this sentence reads like it's more of a spur of the moment decision). There was a fresh coat of snow on the ground, the thick two inches madeking it next to impossible (next to impossible to do what?) and within five minutes of running she had to slow down and rethink her plan. It was freezing. All she was wearing was a small, frilly coat and a pair of thin bedroom slippers, neither of which was good for wintry weather.
She did not stop though. She could not stop, even though her muscles ached and cried out for even a brief reprieve. She couldwould kick herself as she thought, not for the first time, that she should have planned this better.(again, confusion about planning, was it planned at all? It doesn't read like it was) She’d had months to plan. Why hadn’t she taken it.? She hadn’t even packed any food let alone diapers, bottles or anything to keep the babies taken care of. She was a horrible mother. She ought to go back but feared it was too late. Soon HE would be up and he would see that she was gone and come find her only yards away from their, or rather his, lavish manor. He would lock her away and take her sweet, darling sons. She knew it was technically kidnapping, but was it a crime to want to protect them from his horrible plans.?

A few days agoearlier, she had heard his plans to sell them to the greedy, wicked Mr. Macron. Mr. Macron was the source of all her pains and all her sorrows (It sounds like her husband is, more than this guy, considering her husband wants to sell her to him!). It didn’t make any sense to her. Who couldwould want to buy babies? But then, Mr. Macron was a sick bastard. He hadn’t even referred to them as babies or children but as alpha-sires and he was in the market for two. She couldn’t believe that her husband Ben could do such a horrid thing.
Couldn't he have even discussed it with her.?(Remember to use question marks, here have been lots missed so far) He was their father. How could he sell his own children.(question mark needed!) She couldn’t let him do it. She had to take them and run away. Where or how made no difference. There was nothing else she could do.
Her legs didn’t want to go any further, they wanted to stop, to rest. Her calves and thighs were burning with the intensity of the movements. They hurt so bad., Bbut she could not stop. She had to reach Maggie who lived on the other side of the mountain. Maggie said that she could help her. "I am running out of time,"she thought. It was hard not to think about what he would do, if he would comecame after her, though she knew he surely would. She just hoped for her children's sake he slept in. She didn’t want look back at the clear tracks she was making in the soft powdery snow. Her only hope was to keep pressing forward no matter how her body ached. Her children’s lives depended on it.

Her mind wandered as she fought to keep moving. How had she gotten into this mess? A quiet, farm girl from the Blue-Grass State, she had foolishly run away from home. She had made the innocent mistake of hitchhiking with a strange man who had picked her up off the highway. He managed to draw out her story. She had wanted to get away from her stepmother for no other reason that she was 16 years old and thought she knew everything. The man promised her many things on that trip, promised her her very dreams. However, they would soon become nightmares.

Before she knew it, she was in a dark, dank room surrounded by a dozen girls around her age. They were removed one by one and returned. Daniella knew it had to be some sort of sex trafficking. She had heard stories but like everyone else had believed it could never happen to her. Now it had. She soon learned that the girls were not allowed to talk to each other but Daniella also learned that the ones who did not come back had likely become pregnant. This was where she had met the sleazy, gangly Mr. Macron in his brown wool trench coat and matching fedora and wrinkly skin that smelled of onions.(nice description!)
He had looked her up and down, examining her from head to toe before whispering to the guard. She was taken into another room and met Benjamin, Ben. He had such a gentle smile, his very eyes seemed to smile (repitition of the word smile makes the sense awkward to read, so maybe change to something like "His gentle smile reached all the way to his eyes", or something better than that!)and Daniella was sure that she had met her fairy-tale prince as he declared his everlasting love for her, whisking her away from this horrible place. They were married and her dear husband treated her like a princess. She could not imagine how wrong she would be. (For me, this part of your story doesn't work. I realise Daniella is young, but what you've described here doesn't make sense to me. Put yourself in her shoes. If you had been kidnapped and put into a room with other girls, and thought it was sex traffiking, how would you feel when suddenly it's your turn to be dragged out? Even if the first person you meet seems nice, aren't you going to be cautious? And why would she believe that he loved her, when they have literally just met, and in such a horrible situation? Surely she would have a preconceived notion of what a man who comes to deal with someone like Mr Macron would be like? I'm not trying to pull your work apart, but I find this part difficult to believe, and therefore it takes me, as the reader, right out of the story.)
Everything was going wonderfully, perfectly. She was living the life she had always dreamed. Then she got pregnant. She noticed her husband and Mr. Macron’s private meetings but thought nothing of them. They weren’t her business. Until she met Maggie. Maggie was a midwife and she was given the task of looking after Daniella during her pregnancy. She was a good midwife and a dear friend (was she already a friend, or did she become a friend?). Maggie took good care of her and she was well respected by the family. Daniella had wondered why she couldn’t just go to a hospital but Maggie had just told her it was tradition. She accepted that, some people preferred the old-fashioned way of doing things.
One night, while Maggie was taking care of her (be specific, add a little detail, it brings more life and realism to the story), she seemed strangely different. Her bronze skin was disturbingly pale, as though she’d seen a ghost. Maggie tried to warn her about Benjamin, urging her to run away and even to get an abortion. She had even tried to offer her the use of her secret cabin on the other side of the mountain if she truly wanted this child. But Daniella did not believe her and felt horribly betrayed. She would hear no more and told Ben. Maggie was subsequently fired and Daniella was now all alone in her escape('in her escape' doesn't make sense, although I kind of know what you're trying to say). She wondered if she could even protect her precious younglings all alone (You've repeated the words 'all alone' here and in the last sentence, so a change is required).

She marched on. It was still dark but still breaking dawn (which is it, dark or breaking dawn?)when she heard a russling sound. She tried to ignore it., Tthinking it was just a childish imagination (There is nothing childish about being scared of someone like her husband coming to get her. If you want to use something here, maybe go for something like "overactive")getting to her. She continued to mark untilmarch as it had gotten louder but she ignored it; until it turned into a growling rumble. She thought it might have been just her stomache; (hmmm, not sure I'm convinced that you would mistake a real growl for a tummy growl ...) since it was almost sun up and she or her babies had not eaten since dinner last night. She was surprised that they had been so quiet; she assumed that they were nuzzled asleep.
The sky was twilight gray, the dawn near breaking when she heard a rustling sound in the trees. She tried to ignore it, telling herself that this was the woods after all and was likely just an animal looking for nuts or berries or something in the snow to eat. The sound only slowlygot louder, still she ignored it until she heard a low, growl rumbling in the bushes. She thought it might have been her stomach as she nor her children had eaten in hours. She was surprised at how quiet they had been, assuming they had fallen asleep. (ok, looks like you've duplicated paragraphs, as this is almost identical to the one above, and I assume you've done an edit without removing the old work?)
As she pushed on, the growling only slowly}grew louder and she suddenly realized that the sound was not coming from her but rather behind her. She knew it was dumb but she had to see. She turned and froze for a brief second at the sight. A four-legged, snarling beast staring down at her ('looking down' implies that the beast is either huge and towers over her, or is on higher ground or something. Which one is it?) with blood-shot, angry eyes. Shaking herself from her fright, she turned and ran, surprising herself as the adrenaline began pumping through her. She shook off the creature for a moment (How? You've described a huge, 4 legged beast that, in my imagination, would easily chase down a tired woman carrying two babies) and was able to hide one small baby inside the hollow of a tree, buried beneath a thin layer of snow before it was upon her again. She clutched the other child to her chest, running faster, faster but the beast was faster still and quickly overtook, swiping at her with terrible force, flinging her and her baby up against a thick tree trunk. The baby howled in pain and her first instinct was to rock him and soothe away the pain but she hadn’t the time as she got up and kept running despite the pain she herself was in. She looked into the distance and felt a small ray of hope at the sight of a red truck and a man with a rifle getting out of it.(Again, if the beast is that big and fast, I can't see how she could get up and away from it)

The hustle toward him and stretched her arm in the air. She hoped against hope that he would see her. He did and he also spotted the beast that was behind after. He raised his gu as she ran and took a shot. Daniella ducked. The beast pushed her out of the way and her body was flung hard onto the snow covered ground (this sentence suggests that the beast is trying to push her out of the way of getting shot. Is this the case, or is the beast atttacking her?). She came down with a crash but never let go of the baby.

She ran harder towards him (Didn't she just get knocked to the ground? Why didn't the beast attack her?), raising an arm to try and get his attention (she already has his attention, you said that in the paragraph prior). Ever vigilant, the hunter saw the woman racing towards him with a bundle in her arms. Quickly the hunter (repitition of the word 'hunter'. Repitition bad!) raised his gun and fired but not in time to stop the beast from attacking the woman, pushing her out of the ward hardthis part of your sentence doesn't make sense.. He heard the crash and the sound of bone breaking. (He? Do you mean the hunter? When writing, you should always try and work from one persons point of view. This whole prologue, you've ceom from Daniella's, so it doesn't read very well to suddenly change this. Make her the one that hears, or better yet, feels the bones break)
He fired again and a third time. Blood went everywhere (from what?) and it seemed that the monster had been obliterated. Cautiously, the man approached the young woman. She was soaked with blood and by the way her neck was turned, and the fact that she wasn’t breathing (if your neck is on an unnatural angle, its going to be obvious the person is dead), he could tell that she was dead. He knelt down and pulled back the blankets she had held so preciously to her. He could do nothing for the mother but he could do plenty for the boy. He thought about keeping the boy (repitition of the word 'boy') himself, having always thought about what it might be like to be a father but knew the kid needed a proper family(I don't think this insight into the hunter is required here. If he is going to be important later, then add this stuff later, where it is more relevant. Otherwise, as the reader, I'm left wondering why you've said this). He took the baby instead to the fire station and placed a call about the woman. Satisfied he had done everything he could, he drove into the sunrise with his trusty hound dog, Samson, never even looking into the rear-view mirror.(mentioning his dog is a redundant statement and adds nothing to your piece. If the dog is going to be significant later, then mention him late ){/pre}

Overall, I think your story needs a lot of work. You've got an idea here, and I can see that you're trying to establish a back story, which is great. There are a events that happen though that really take me out of the experience, as the reader. A giant beast like the one described would eat a tired lady for breakfast, and with very little difficulty!

There are a number of grammatical errors you can easily fix in this, and moving foward with the rest of your story too. Be careful when using could/would, it can really change the tone of a sentence. Remember to use the right punctuation, otherwise it can change the tone of a sentence, e.g.

Will I escape.

Will I escape?

Will I escape!!!

If you complete edits, make sure you remove old sentences etc as well.

The biggest piece of advice I think I can give it to make sure you think about the realism of events. If something doesn't feel real, or logical, even if its fantasical, then a reader isn't going to be as invested, and get frustrated with your work.


Keep writing!

Ham





2
2
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (2.5)
Hi,

The following review is completely subjective, and based on my own personal preferences and experiences. I comment on the concepts in the story, and how well it reads, rather than the technical aspects, which are not my strength. Please feel free to take or leave any of my comments :)


This is an interesting piece, with some great imagery used, however I found it very hard to read. I can see that you are going for a certain style here, but for me, it feels overdone, and a little contrived.

I've gone through your story below, and highlighted areas that I think could use work:


That on the tempest night of the new moon her heart raced beyond the dynasties of time to breakfree of the midnight blues as the calm waves of the sea underneath the lost spark of the midnight gleam asked her to rest upon her soul's sheen. (you have multiple metaphors in this sentence, with no break, and it makes it very hard to read. Also, since it's your opening sentence, that's really going to impact on whether a reader wants to keep reading.)With the wind the melancholy of silence was inbuilt which almost tried to whisper something."Let go,let go",cried her heart."Emotions are like white horses"(why are they like white horses? As the reader, I don't understand a lot of the last few sentences and the secriptions you're trying to use),then she thought.Muzzy,hazy was the weather of her heart,confused she cried out her heart (you've used the word 'heart' three times in quick succession. Repetition is not good, and something I also get hammered a lot about!). Then an angel almost humanlike saying asked( saying asked? That doesn't make sense to me),"Dont cry out,in front of him let out your heart."

Did then the sunkissed sky(I reallt like this phrase, it's awesome!),overshadowing the ballet of blue lit skies,glittered oh so diamond like,upon the skies (To me it feels like you've just given three slightly different descriptions of the sky here, which isn't necessary. Also, these descriptions make it seem like it is the middle of the day, where earlier in your story, you mention a midnight gleam?) lapse was she running,to tell him her heart's state-oh-being. And there he was,smiling oh so graciously,as though the whole world's happiness is unburdened upon him."A simple gal I am.So complications aren't me.This is a complication though,I need to simplify it."And then closing her eyes she blurted out,"Oh look I fell for you."And then closed her lips unto a perfect pout!

Funny she was,funny she will always be (This statement feels out of place, kind of random. It doesn't really link to anything),But he was taken aback,reacting wasnt his greates feat.So,did he look at the sky,as though it inspired him,"Oh,I like you too,"he said,"But I'm afraid as a friend indeed".'

But that's what a gal is supposed to say,stupid!",down at the ground,fumbling she gazed. "Its okay",he said,"You didnt do anything stupid,nobody is supposed to be blamed" Then saying a goodbye,with the wind, off he went.

Broken hearted,did she feel for somedays,but,optimist she was,with it a teenager too.Happy,funny and smiling so she was then again,for better.

So,this funny, happy, sad;her oh so poetic love story had a bitter sweet ending!:) :)


There are also a number of grammatical errors, missed punctuation, spelling mistakes etc.

This is my own opinion, but I think with your story, less would be more. You could trim a lot from this piece of work, and it would really make it shine.

I know this review may seem very negative, however I hope that it helps you improve. And as I said at the beginning, feel free to disregard anything I've said. You may have been going for something I completely missed!

If you have any questions, also feel free to ask.

Keep writing!

Ham





3
3
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (3.5)
Hi!!

OK, so you know my usual disclaimer, this is subjective etc etc etc, so lets get into it! I'll do the same as last time, go through and highlight your work, comment and the like.

In the days of fantasy, where the land is ruled by kings and years are counted not by days but by the cycle of the seasons, there lived a boy whose eyes sparkled like brilliant emeralds. (Right off the bat, nice idea. It's just a little brief! Add more I think, and focus on the world, and if you do add antthing about the boy, it needs to be more, otherwise it leaves the reader kind of wondering why you've said this.

“Zahilla, get in this house now!” The shrill voice of Mrs. Nox made Zahilla duck as if her very words could strike him.

He smiled at the pudgy-faced, dark-eyed little girl, he had been talking to, as if to say, “I will see you tomorrow.”, and ran toward the house.

As Zahilla ran by Mrs. Nox, he noticed that her normally relaxed round face boiled red with rage and her royal blue eyes seemed to pop out of her head. She is really mad at me. Zah thought.

“Get in here right now!” She commanded a little quieter as he scurried past her.

Don't hurt me. She isn't going to tell anyone. I trust her! He ran for his bed and hid under the blanket. Then a terrifying thought crossed his mind. I'm sorry, please don't send me away. (some punctuation issues here, missing speech marks and the like. It makes it hard to tell what's being said, and what's being thought)

“Look at me.” She said much quieter but still clearly angry. (did Mrs Nox follow? Otherwise isn't she in a different room?)

Slowly Zahilla peeked his eyes over the edge of the covers. He noticed that Mrs. Nox had pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat there rubbing her head nervously.

“Look at me.” She said again, this time with a calm reassuring voice.

Don't send me away. Don't send me away. Don't send me away! He thought over and over as he dropped the cover from his face. Zahilla noticed that tears had begun to form in her eyes. That is all it took for Zahilla (name repetition) to break down and cry.

“Are... you... go... ing... to... send... me... away?” He asked between sobs.

“No baby. I was just very scared.” Mrs. Nox's face softened even more. She leaned close to Zahilla and pet his head as she spoke softly. “Go clean your face and then I need you to go get Mr. Nox.” Then she gently grabbed his face and added sternly, “Do not talk to anyone. Just go get Mr. Nox and tell him what you did.”

What did I do? “That I talked to the girl?”

“No, you showed her your eyes. We told you to never let people see your eyes.”

She wouldn't tell anyone. “But...”

“Hush now Zahilla. Go get Mr. Nox. We will talk when you return.”

What is wrong with my eyes? He thought, slipping his feet to the floor. As he stood up though, the door swung open. (if Zah has been told before not for people to look in his before, wouldn't he have also been told why?)

“What happened?!” Mr. Nox exclaimed, his huge frame? filling the doorway. Sweat poured down the sides of his square face and it dampened his short, thinning black hair. Zahilla noticed that his black eyes seemed just as large and ready to pop out as Mrs. Nox's eyes had a few moments ago.

“Max,” Mrs. Nox jumped up to hug Mr. Nox, “one of the king's men saw Zahilla's eyes.” (when did this happen?? I thought it was just the girl? Tell us this part of the story too!)She leaned her head into his shoulder but he did not hold her, “It was a shifter, he flew toward the port. Drake is in the port! Max, we could be waking to the arms of our ancestors by the time the sun rises!”

Mr. and Mrs. Nox seemed to have forgotten about Zahilla so he spoke up, “Why can't anyone see my eyes?” (YAY!! Good question, just needs to come earlier I think. Just remember, if someone has been told something before, they aren't going to ask why again. Maybe have Mrs Nox offer the whole explanation at the offset)

Both of them turned to Zahilla and stared blankly at him. Then they both said in unison, “Well...uh...”

Mr. Nox smiled at him and then he said, “Zahilla, son. You are very unique.”

“Max.” Mrs. Nox scolded, tight-lipped.

“Kriana, he needs to know.” He snapped back and continued, “No one has seen someone with eyes like yours since the days of our ancestors. Back then people with eyes like yours were friends with the king's enemy, Garos, the king of the vampires.”

What? “Vampires?”

“Never mind who they are. They live far away from here.” Mrs. Nox said quickly.

“The vampires were very strong. For some reason though they were even stronger with people like you.”

Zahilla had a very hard time understanding what they were saying, “But, why?”

“No one knows anymore. Our ancestors would not talk about it.”

Then Zahilla chuckled to himself and said, “Maybe the king is afraid of dogs.”

“That may be, but maybe when you are a man you will know if that is really the reason the king wants you...” Mr. Nox cut himself off from finishing his sentence but Zahilla knew what he meant. ...in the arms of my ancestors.

“But I have only seen the seasons seven times. I can't hurt anyone.”

“I know baby, but the king is worried that the vampires will find you.” (why is the king afraid of the vampires?)

“I won't help them.”

“Of course you won't but the king doesn't want to risk it.”

The tiny, modest house fell into an awkward silence. Zahilla did not know what to say anymore. The whole ordeal simply overwhelmed him. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Nox seemed to be talking to one another silently.

“Gerrrrawrar!” A distant roar shattered the silence that had fallen on them.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Nox's eyes popped out of their heads again. (too much popping!! Once, cool, beyond that, unless there is a really good reason, maybe come up with something else)

“I am going to speak with Galen.” Mr. Nox said, already halfway out the back door.

Tears began to form in Mrs. Nox's eyes. “Zah zah baby. Do you remember that hiding place I told you about?” She asked, the shake in her voice betraying her fear.

“The one I have to be a puppy to get to?” What was that noise? (What noise? Is that an internal thought, or said out loud?)

He looked to her for an answer but she just stood there. Zahilla felt like Mrs. Nox had been frozen in time. She did not blink and she seemed to be holding her breath. Suddenly he realized that her face no longer looked young and vibrant. Instead her face appeared to have turned into the face one would see on an ancient.

He didn't like thinking of her that way. So he turned away from her and listened to the noises that had risen outside. Among all of the houses in the village, people had begun moving around like scared rabbits. Outside he could hear his neighbors yelling and barking orders to one another.

“Pack only what we can carry!” One man shouted.

“I have to get a blanket for the horse!” Another wined.

“We can't take this with us!” A third, older voice, exclaimed.

“It belonged to my mother. I...” A clay pot broke with a loud crash cutting off the woman who had been yelling.

The sound of the pot breaking snapped Mrs. Nox out of her trance, “Yes baby, go there now and do not come out until you see the moon.” She said and pushed Zahilla toward the back door.

“What about mid meal?” He whined.

“I will try to get some food to you. For now I need you to go." What about you? I can help you. I can protect you. Zahilla froze in his thoughts. Let me help you.

A look of anger washed over Mrs. Nox's face when Zahilla did not move. Her eyes turned cold and her hands balled up at her sides.

"Now!” She barked and ,chokinged back tears.

Instinct sent him running toward the back door. Why is everyone so scared? What made that sound? Is that a vampire? No... I think I have heard that sound before... But how did he find me? He rounded the corner and found the small hole that he had dug. That girl must have told someone about me! How could she?! (from going from talking to the girl and all this happening is very, very fast, it feels a bit forced)

Zahilla did not have time to think about how he had been discovered. He knew he needed to clear his mind and think about transforming. After this is over I am going to visit her as a puppy. People always tell puppies things. I'll turn my head to the side. His hands began to shrink into themselves. Maybe I'll wag my tail. Little kids like that. A layer of soft fur pushed through his skin, turning him gray. Oh! Maybe she'll feed me some scraps. In one swift movement his legs shrunk and bent. Next his ears grew and then flopped over on themselves. When his nose turned black and pulled away from his eyes the smell of panic overwhelmed him. (why would he want to see the girl as a puppy if she betrayed him?)

Right, I need to hide. Zahilla looked to his left and his right and then whimpered. Since he had shrunk in size his clothes no longer fit him. They had fallen around him like a bag for wheat. I need to remember to take off my clothes first. Now where is the... He began to feel frustrated pawing at the shirt to find an escape.

Just as he thought he had found a way out, he felt large hands clamp around his little body. Let me go or I will bite you! A low growl began to escape from his throat, but it cut off abruptly when he felt the hands lift him off the ground.

“What have we told you about shifting while you still have clothes on?” Zahilla felt a wave of relief wash over him. The voice belonged to Mr. Nox.

Hearing the familiar roar and now being in Mr. Nox's arms reminded him of when he had first met Mr. Nox. Zahilla had met him almost a full cycle of the seasons ago. The wet season had almost ended. That night the rain fell colder than usual. Maybe it had been the rain, or maybe it had been because he had just escaped an inferno. Far away from the smoldering remains of his home, he had found shelter among some trees that had fallen atop one another.

The small cave it had created provided a little warmth and a dry place to sleep. While Zahilla slept Mr. Nox had also been seeking shelter from the cold rain. He found Zahilla's little tree cave and Zahilla, sleeping naked, in it. After much convincing that he was not his enemy, Mr. Nox took Zahilla home. Since then Mr. Nox had been the only father Zahilla had ever known.(used Zah's name too many times in this parapgraph)

Mr. Nox carefully pulled the shirt off of Zahilla. The moment their eyes met Zahilla jumped at Mr. Nox's face and licked it happily. Gently, Mr. Nox pushed Zahilla away and held him to his face so that Zahilla's eyes met his.

“Now go hide like your mother told you to." He put Zahilla down and set him inside the hole that led under the house. "Next time you have to change remember to take your clothes off.” He whispered as Zahilla's tail disappeared, along with the rest of him, under the house.

The hole did not provide Zahilla with much space to move. He knew that no one would find him under there, but he did not feel very safe. Something inside him told him to keep moving, so that is exactly what he did. He wedged his head between the wood slat above him and the mounds of dirt below. Zahilla clawed at it and squirmed his way deeper than he had ever gone before. Must... dig... deeper. Dig. Dig. Dig... Oh I don't feel very good. Among the smells of dirt and fear another, very potent, smell had made him feel nauseated. He figured it must be coming from the patch of grass like plants that grew under the center of the house.

When he stopped, to keep from throwing up, the sounds around him flowed back. Panic still controlled the villagers outside. In the house next door to him he could hear a baby crying. You know something bad is going to happen too don't you? Then he heard the muted voices of Mr. and Mrs. Nox. I wonder what they are saying. He decided it would be best for him to crawl toward the voices. Much to Zahilla's disgust, the patch of grass grew in that direction as well. Don't pay attention to that smell. Just focus on their voices. Maybe if I am closer I can hear what they're saying.

Zahilla turned to his left and followed the inaudible voices. He dug and squirmed his way until the voices got easier to understand.

"... dragons... they... find him..." He heard Mrs. Nox first.

Did a dragon make that noise? Zahilla needed to hear more clearly so he dug deeper until he lay directly beneath them and, unfortunately, in the thick of the potent-smelling grass.

"They won't find him Kriana. The onion will cover his scent." Mr. Nox's voice finally came through clear. (wouldn't he know what onions smell like?)

That must be the grass I'm laying in.

"They'll burn down the village looking for him. They won't need a dragon to sniff him out." Kriana Nox cried.

"He is safe, love. When the moon comes out, the king's men will leave. (why?)" Mr. Nox assured her but Zahilla could smell uncertainty on him mixed with a smell he didn't have a name for. The kind when animals go find a place to die. I remember this, my mother smelled like this just before the fire!

"No he isn't. You heard the dragon's roar. He is coming and he will find him."

"Why would they bother the dragons for such a little boy? Drake probably roared because he could not come with the soldiers. I'm sure the king has better uses for his dragons."

What is the king going to do with me? Among the smells of fear, onions and the salty hint of tears, Zahilla began to pick up another smell.

"Have you seen a dragon Max? My father told me about them. They're..." Mrs. Nox's shaking voice distracted him from trying to pin down the source of the new smell.

"No Kriana of course I have never seen a dragon." Mr. Nox interrupted, "That is exactly why I don't think they'll send one for the boy."

The smell seemed to be getting closer. Strange smell. He sniffed the air cautiously.

"Well I am not willing to stand here and wait to find out. We need to run Max."

I think I know this smell.

"If we run we will be running for the rest of our lives. The king is a reasonable man. He won't let us be hurt."

Suddenly images of his mother came to mind. Yes! It's him, the man who came for me before the fire. No! Not again. I have... A rhythmic booming sound cut his thoughts short. Too late, he's here. (how does he know its the same man?)

"Max! Those are dragon footsteps! We have to run. Now! Please Max, let's go."

"No. We have to make sure the dragon doesn't find him."

The booming quickly got louder.

"He's a dragon Max! Of course he will find him! Oh grandmother, ancient ancestors, and their grandmothers be prepared, we are coming to join you."

It didn't take long before the booming turned into a violent vibration. Zahilla whimpered uncontrollably and curled into a ball as the vibrations threw his head into the wooden floor above him.

"Stop those prayers Kriana. Our ancestors aren't ready for us yet."

I don't want these people to die. Please leave them alone.

As if it could hear his thoughts the booming and vibrations suddenly stopped. With it, all time seemed to stop. Not a sound could be heard. The baby next door had stopped crying and no one even so much as shuffled their feet. Kriana had even stopped mumbling her final prayers.

Everyone may have gone silent but the smells still screamed fear. It's going to happen again! He felt a warm liquid pool under his hind legs. Urine. He did not have much time to think about it before the sound of splintering wood and Kriana's screams bombarded his sensitive ears.

“Where is he?!” A new voice boomed over Kriana's screams. It's him!

That voice took Zahilla back to the night of the fire over a full seasons' cycle ago. "The wet season in the mountains is not a place for a boy. With eyes like that no one will take you in!" He remembered the voice calling after him as he ran into the woods, his tail tucked between his legs.

"Who? There isn't anyone else here." Mr. Nox lied.

"Grrrrahhhh. Do you think I am a fool? That boy is an insult to the king!" The man growled and stomped his foot breaking the boards above Zahilla's head.

"He's just a boy. Sir Drake have mercy, he doesn't even know what a vampire is. He's no threat." Zahilla could see Mr. Nox silhouetted in the sunlight that beamed in through the huge hole the dragon-man had made.

There is that word again. What's a vampire?

"Silence! That boy will someday become a man, a man that Garos will want. Garos is a threat. If that boy lives, then Garos will have another war! YOU will be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocents. You would sacrifice them for one little boy?" Zahilla could see the shadow of a large man with a long, spiked tail gesturing wildly.

“Please Sir Drake, look through the house he isn't here.” Kriana pleaded.

"You would betray your King?"

"No! Just search the house. We've sent him away."

"You have betrayed your King by letting that green-eyed child of a demon escape!” He paused for a moment and sniffed the air, “Now you have blood on your hands. Do you know what our ancestors do to those that destroy an entire village?” He sniffed the air again. “I will be swift, but your punishment shall last an eternity!" The man's voice got deeper as he spoke.

Neither Mr. Nox nor his wife had a chance to respond. Through the crack in the floor Zahilla saw a large green claw cut Mr. Nox's face into three pieces.

“Max!” Mrs. Nox screamed as Mr. Nox collapsed inches away from Zahilla's face, blocking his view.

The dragon-man had ripped one of Max's eyes from its socket. Zahilla could not see where it had gone. Maybe the dragon-man had eaten it. The other eye still showed the terror of Max's last moments as it looked down on him.

From the hole where the other eye had been, blood gushed down toward Zahilla and began to fill up the space he huddled in. He tried to push himself away from the torrent flowing toward him but his little body couldn't move fast enough. The dirt below him turned into a sticky red mud and held him fast. I am going to drown down here!

Above him he could hear the dragon-man laughing. Must escape!

"You, I may just let live." It growled, hardly audible.

“I will be honored by my ancestors. It is you that shall live an eternity of punishment!" Kriana bravely shouted back at him.

"Grahhhh! Meet them now and you will find out for yourself."

Something like the sound of a powerful wind replied. Then Zahilla smelled the distinct smell of burning flesh and wood. No! Not the fire! He tried to struggle free of the bloody mud but could not move. Must escape! He struggled for a few more minutes but then gave up. I'm going to die... Now Zahilla emitted the smell of an animal that is finding a place to lie down and die. At least no one else will get hurt because of me.

The ground around him began to warm up and an orange light glowed between the slats in the floor. Flames licked across the walls and cooked the mud around Zahilla as hard as a brick. Out of nowhere the smell of onion began to overwhelm him again. I wonder what dying feels like. Will the ancestors accept me? The air itself hurt him now and his eyes watered from the smells around him. Then the ground beneath him began to tilt and sway and the orange light began to go dark. This is it. I must be dying (if the ground underneath is hardening due to the heat, wouldn't Zah be suffering some serious harm by now?)

Your work has a much more well rounded feel to it now, especially in comparison to your last version. The world is starting to feel more well rounded, and there is a lot more context there. I think there are stil some more things you could tweak, so maybe put it up on the request for review page and see what others have to say.

Overall though, well done!!

Ham

4
4
Review of Pro-Gay Rights  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hi,

Firstly, I want to be straight up and say that I'm also pro gay rights. I'm also not going to review your work from a gramatical point of view, but from the agrument that you are putting forward.

Right near the beginning you say that "it is unacceptable to refuse one's right to love". I think this statement is actually inaccurate, as technically there is the refusal for gay people to marry, not actually love. They can love as much as they want, they just can't have the formal ceremony that straight couples are allowed, to declare that love openly, and bind themselves in a legal sense.

The other main point about your piece is I'm not sure if it's about gay rights, or specifically gay marriage. If you're using the marriage issue to highlight the overall issues, then maybe specifically state that. Otherwise it leaves the reader a little confused about the direction of your piece.

Lastly, I'd like to say well done. As I said earlier, I'm pro gay rights, and society needs people out there highlighting the problems over and over again, to help the messages get through.

Keep up the writing!

Ham


5
5
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)
Hi there,

Welcome to the site! I thought I'd throw a review your way, especially since I'm a fan of the whole horror genre. Firstly though, please accept the fact that this review is completely subjective, so take or leave what you will. I attempt to comment on the story elements, logic etc, rather than more technical aspects, as they are not my strength. Anyway, on with the review!

I want more!! You've got a groovy idea happening here, that I think with a little expansion, would make an awesome short story. There are a few areas I think you could add on, or fix up though, and I've highlighted them in your story below:


Tonight was the night; Susan was to carry out her plan. She tried to deny the fact that she was terrified, and thought to her self, “There is nothing to be worried about, a book is just a bookI'm going to add this point here: you use the word "book" a lot throughout the story. One of the things I've learnt very fast here is that people hate repetition in writing. What I'm going to do is bold the word throughout your story, so hopefully you can see the issue), and stories are stories. I have to do this!”
Susan slipped silently inside the door. The front room was decrepit, with broken, shattered furniture littering the floor. Navigating through the mess, she passed a once overstuffed sofa with half its plushy insides spilled. The faded floral pattern was spotted with water stains and rat droppings. Susan worked her way to what she hoped was a door to the attic. She was lucky, and slowly entered the narrow staircase.
Various shelves and trunks fill the attic floor space closest to the walls. At the floors center there was a book, laid(maybe lying instead of laid?) perhaps forgotten, on the dusty wood floor. When Susan gazed upon the book she sensed the power for which it was famed. A demon ruled the book and the spells it contained (maybe expand on this idea a little? It just feels a little brief for such a key point of the story. Maybe emphasis Susan's feelings about it. i.e. "A demon susposedly ruled ...." etc etc. She wrapped the book tightly in her jacket and turned to leave the attic, with a very uneasy feeling in her gut.
As she began to make her way back through the house, her uneasiness grew. It warped into something more(What?). Her senses became altered and not quite right, making walking laborious, her breathing rapid and painful.
Finally, she reached the door.
Throwing herself into the night, frigid air filled her lungs. As Susan began the long walk home with the book held close to her side, she was overcome with fear. It was a deep, gripping fear, that caught in her throat and chilled her to the bone. She ran as fast as her slurred (slurred makes me think of speech) reflexes would allow, while flashes of demons played behind her eyes.
Gasping for air, she slammed her front door closed behind her, as if daring the night to follow her inside. She unwrapped her jacket and revealed her prize. A faint glow was cast off the book, and you(maybe replace "you" with "she" since Susan is the focus. Otherwise it feels like you're talking straight to the reader and pulls you out of the story a bit) could feel the air of power around it. Susan knew the legend of the book well, “...and when the mortal gazes upon its pages they will be stuck in a fate of perpetual torment, trapped within the pages of the book.” No one was sure what exactly that fate was, but popular belief was that you were eaten by the demon itself. A brief moment of inner conflict distracted Susan's mind, she was unsure. Stories are just stories after all, but is it really worth the risk just to prove her point?(ok, so a question. We know that Susan is pretty doubtful about this book, but why?)
After removing her still rain soaked clothing, she laid in bed. The book that she held in her hands is said to be enchanted and found irresistible to most people, only the strongest willed could resist. Reverently she whispers(you've changed tense here, it should be "whispered"),“How much of these old stories could really be true?” She hadn't planned on reading it, she had told herself several times she would not even open it. What she hadn't prepared for was her own lack of self control.(Big lesson - show, don't tell. Demonstrate her lack of self control, it has a much greater impact on the reader)
With a soft hand she gently caressed the book's cover. Slowly and with the utmost care, she opened it. The powerful magic was already starting to enchant Susan. It was too wonderful to look away from, and she wanted to read it, had to read it.
With each word her mind became increasingly trapped. She could not look away no matter what now. Where there was only a faint glow before, Susan's entire room was filled with the light coming off the book. Something truly horrible began to take place.
Susan started to age, her skin shriveled, and her hair became devoid of any color. Her mouth twisted into a silent, agonized scream, as her body shrunk to a shriveled gray mass. As Susan gave one final convulsion, her soul evacuated and slatted (did yuo mean "sated", as in your hunger is sated?) the demon’s hunger.

I think you use some wonderful, descriptive language in your work, especially towards the beginning, however the ending does feela bit more rushed. I've love to see you expand on Susan's fight with the book, and maybe add a bit more to what happens when shes loses. The end is ok, but based on how good your beginning is, I think it can be better!

I hope this review has been helpful. Feel free to ask any questions, or for me to look at your story again id you do an edit. I would also suggest entering some of the horror competitions. Its a great way to get more reviews, plus see other people's work.

Keep up the writing!

Ham




6
6
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)
Hi!

Well I've had a read of your story and wanted to submit a review for you. I'd like to add first though, that my reviews are completely subjective and based on my own personal perferences, plus the advice given to me by others. I am by no means an expert, but I hope that this helps you in some way.

Well you've certainly got your story off to a cracking start, and as a short story, I think it would work well. The concern I have though, is that it's the beginning of a novel. As such, you can afford to spend more time setting the scene, introducing characters etc. It doesn't mean that you can't get into the action quickly, but after reading this, I'm left with more questions than answers, and not necessarily in the way I like. For example, what do Zahilia, Mrs Nox and Mr Nox look like? How old is Zahilia (you reference him thinking hes not a baby, but does that mean hes a child, teenager, adult)? Adding small descriptions can help paint a picture for the reader. One of the best pieces of advice I have been given on this site is to show, not tell (and it's a damn hard piece of advice to follow, I suck at it!!). When Mrs Nox's eyes "turn cold", are they blue eyes, green? Are the looking from a weathered face, a young face? Again, in my opinion, the benefits of writing a novel is that you can take a bit more time painting a picture of your characters. In saying this, you did take some time to describe what Zah looks like as he transforms, which is good.

You've introduced a lot of concepts into your story straight away too. A person who transforms into a dog (is he a werewolf, shape shifter? You have mentioned cycles, does this mean moon cycles like traditional werewold mythology?)) vampires (which comes up once. Do we really need to have that dangled in front of us here? And if so, a little more context would be good), dragons which don't seem to be dragons, but more men, or half dragons. What are they? These are all valid ideas, but as a reader I feel bombarded, and a little overwhelmed.

The you introduce Garos, and wars ...... my poor little brain can't handle so much in such a condensed space!!

There are a number of small, technical issues throughout your work as well. Now I am by no means an expert on this kind of thing, so I'm not going to go into a lot of detail, but its more the way certain lines read, at least for me. What I've done is copied your story below, and bolded parts that I think could do with a little "tweaking". I've tried to add notes as to why as well :)


“Zah zah baby. Do you remember that hiding place I told you about?” Mrs. Nox's voice shook.

The woman who had cared for him for a full cycle of the seasons sounded frightened, so Zahilla decided not to correct her. I'm not a baby anymore.

“The one I have to be a puppy to get to?” He asked. Why do I need to go there?

Terrified, he locked eyes with her. Are you mad at me? Zahilla had hoped she would say something but she just stared right back at him. What did I do? He searched her eyes for some kind of answer. She replied with wide eyes (replying with wide eyes doesn't sound right, but the tears works well) that slowly filled with tears.

Not getting anywhere, Zahilla listened to his surroundings. Outside he could hear the other villagers running around just as frantically. All around him he heard yelling and the sound of things falling. When a clay pot broke with a loud crash Mrs. Nox finally snapped out of her trance.

“Yes baby, go there now and do not come out until you see the moon.” She said and pushed Zahilla toward the back door.

“What about mid meal?” He wined.

“I will try to get some food to you. For now I need you to go." What about you? I can help you. I am not a baby. Zahilla froze in his thoughts. Let me help you.

A look of anger washed over Mrs. Nox's face when Zahilla did not move. Her eyes turned cold and her hands balled up at her sides. Even though Zahilla stood before her in his human form he could still smell the terror that she reeked of.

"Now!” She barked, choking back tears.

Instinct sent him running toward the back door. What did I do? Why is she so angry? Did someone see my eyesmaybe explain why his eyes are important?? He rounded the corner and found the small hole that he had dug. That girl (what girl???) must have told someone about me! How could she?!

Zahilla did not have time to think about how he had been discovered. He knew he needed to clear his mind and think about transforming. After this is over I am going to visit her as a puppy. People always tell puppies things. I'll turn my head to the side. His hands began to shrink into themselves. Maybe I'll wag my tail. Little kids like that. A layer of soft fur pushed through his skin, turning him grey. Oh! Maybe she'll feed me some scraps. In one swift movement his legs shrunk and bent. Next his ears grew and then flopped over on themselves. When his nose turned black and pulled away from his eyes the smell of panic overwhelmed him.

Right, I need to hide. Zahilla looked to his left and his right and then whimpered. Since he had shrunk in size his clothes no longer fit him. They had fallen around him like a bag for wheat(this description made me pause as it doesn't feel quite right. Maybe just a bag?). I need to remember to take off my clothes first. Now where is the... He began to feel frustrated pawing at the shirt to find an escape.

Just as he thought he had found a way out, he felt large hands clamp around his little body. Let me go or I will bite you! A low growl began to escape from his throat, but it cut off abruptly when he felt his little body lift off of the ground.

“What have we told you about shifting while you still have clothes on?” Zahilla felt a wave of relief wash over him. This voice belonged to a good man, Mr. Nox.

Zahilla had met Mr. Nox almost a full cycle of the seasons ago. The wet season had almost ended, that night the rain fell colder than usual. Maybe it had been the rain, or maybe it had been because he had just escaped an inferno. Far away from the smoldering remains of his home, he had found shelter among some trees that had fallen atop one another.

The small cave it had created provided a little warmth and a dry place to sleep. While Zahilla slept Mr. Nox had also been seeking shelter from the cold rain. He found Zahilla's little tree cave and Zahilla sleeping naked in it. After much convincing that he was a good guy(the term guy is very modern and seems out of place), Mr. Nox took Zahilla home. Since then Mr. Nox had been the only father Zahilla had ever known.

Mr. Nox laughed quietly and carefully pulled the shirt off of Zahilla. The moment their eyes met Zahilla jumped at Mr. Nox's face and licked it happily. Gently Mr. Nox pushed Zahilla away and laughedThere is a lot of drama going on at the moment, Mr Nox laughing, even while being licked by a puppy, seems out of place. Would him maintaining a more sombre look add further emphasis to how bad things are at the moment?.

“Now go hide like your mother told you to." He put Zahilla down and set him inside the hole that led under the house. "Next time you have to change remember to take your clothes off.” He whispered as Zahilla's tail disappeared, along with the rest of him, under the house.

The hole did not provide Zahilla with much space to move. He knew that no one would find him under there, but he did not feel very safe. Something inside him told him to dig deeper, and that is exactly what he did. He wedged his head between the wood slat above him and the mounds of dirt below. Zahilla clawed at the dirt and squirmed his way deeper than he had ever gone before. Must... dig... deeper. Dig. Dig. Dig... Oh I don't feel very good. Suddenly, the smell of fear and dirt made him nauseated and he had to stop digging for a moment. (lots of repitition of "dig" and "dirt". Readers don't like that, as reviewers keep pointing out in my work!)

When he stopped, the sounds around him flowed back. Panic still controlled the villagers outside. In the house next door to him he could hear a baby crying. You know something bad is going to happen too don't you? Then he heard the muted voices of Mr. and Mrs. Nox. I wonder what they are saying. He decided it would be best for him to crawl toward the voices. Maybe if I am closer I can hear what they're saying. Maybe they'll say what's wrong.

Zahilla turned to his left and followed the inaudible voices. He dug and squirmed his way until the voices got easier to understand.
"... dragons... they... find him..." He heard Mrs. Nox first.

Did the dragons find me? Zahilla needed to hear more clearly so he dug deeper until he was sure he was directly beneath them.

"They won't find him Kriana." Mr. Nox's voice finally came through clear.

"They'll burn down the village looking for him!" Mrs. Kriana Nox cried.

"He is safe, love. When the moon comes out the King's men'll (men will. Plus what King? Another new concept!!) leave." Mr. Nox assured her but Zahilla could smell uncertainty on him; the kind when animals go find a place to die(why do animals smell of uncertainty when about to die? This doesn't sound quite right, but it could be a lack of my understanding). I smell fear on him. I remember this fear. My parents smelled like this fear just before the fire!

"No he isn't. If they send a dragon, he'll kill him and then us!"

"He has only been among us for seven cycles. Why would they bother the dragons for such a little boy? I'm sure the King has better uses for his dragons."

What did I do? Why does the King want me? What is that? Among the smells of fear and the salty hint of tears, Zahilla began to pick up another smell.

"Have you seen a dragon Max? My father told me about them. They're..." Mrs. Nox's shaking voice distracted him from trying to pin down the source of the new smell.

"No Kriana of course I have never seen a dragon." Mr. Nox interupted, "That is exactly why I don't think they'll send one for the boy."(is that because they are rare, are only sent very rarely? As the reader, I'm left wondering, and not in a good way)

The smell seemed to be getting closer. Strange smell. He sniffed the air cautiously.

"Well I am not willing to stand here and wait to find out. We need to run Max."

I think I know this smell.

"If we run we will be running for the rest of our lives. The king is a reasonable man. He won't let us be hurt."

Suddenly images of his family came to mind. Yes! It's him, the man who came for me before the fire. No! Not again. I have... A rhythmic booming sound cut his thoughts short. Too late, he's here.

"Max! Those are dragon footsteps! We have to run. Now! Please Max, let's go."

"No. We have to make sure the dragon doesn't find him."

The booming quickly got louder.

"He's a dragon Max! Of course he will find him! Oh grandmother, ancient ancestors, and their grandmothers be prepared, we are coming to join you."

It didn't take long before the booming turned into a violent vibration. Zahilla whimpered uncontrollably and curled into a ball as the vibrations threw his head into the wooden floor above him.

"Stop those prayers Kriana. Our ancestors aren't ready for us yet."

I don't want these people to die. Please leave them alone.

As if it could hear his thoughts the booming and vibrations suddenly stopped. With it, all time seemed to stop. Not a sound could be heard. The girl next door had stopped crying and no one even so much as shuffled their feet. Kriana had even stopped mumbling her final prayers.
Everyone may have gone silent but the smells still screamed fear. It's going to happen again! He felt a warm liquid pool under his hind legs. Urine. He did not have much time to think about it before the sound of splintering wood and Kriana's screams bombarded his sensitive ears.

“Where is he?!” A new voice boomed over Kriana's screams. It's him!

That voice took Zahilla back to the night of the fire over a full season's cycle ago. "The wet season in the mountains is not a place for a boy. With eyes like that no one will take you in!" He remembered the voice calling after him as he ran deep into the woods his tail tucked between his legs.

"Who? There isn't anyone else here." Mr. Nox lied.

"Grrrrahhhh. Do you think I am a fool? That boy is an insult to the King!" The man growled and stomped his foot breaking the boards above Zahilla's head.

"He's just a boy. Sir Drake have mercy, he doesn't even know what a vampire is(this seems like an important point, but as the reader, we have no idea why ...). He's no threat." Zahilla could see Mr. Nox now through the crack the man had made.

Vampire? What's a vampire?

"Silence! That boy will someday become a man, a man that Garos will want. Garos is a threat. If that boy lives, then Garos will have another war! YOU will be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocents. You would sacrifice them for one little boy?" Zahilla could see the shadow of the man from his past gesturing wildly.

“Please Sir Drake, look through the house he isn't here.” Kriana pleaded.

"You would betray your King?" The shadow grew and morphed into something large and unfamiliar to Zahilla. Is that a dragon?

"No! Just search the house. We've sent him away."

"You have betrayed your King by letting that green-eyed child of a demon escape! Now you have blood on your hands. Do you know what our ancestors do to those that destroy an entire village? I will be swift, but your punishment shall last an eternity!" The man's voice got deeper as he spoke.

Neither Mr. Nox nor his wife had a chance to respond. Through the crack in the floor Zahilla saw a large green claw cut Mr. Nox's face into three pieces.

“Max!” Mrs. Nox screamed as Mr. Nox collapsed inches away from Zahilla's face, blocking his view.

The dragon-man had ripped one of Max's eyes from its socket. Zahilla could not see where it had gone. Maybe the dragon-man had eaten it. The other eye still showed the terror of Max's last moments as it looked down on him.

From the hole where the other eye had been blood gushed down toward Zahilla, filling up the space he had huddled in. He tried to push himself away from the blood but his little body couldn't move fast enough. The dirt below him turned into a sticky red mud and held him fast. I am going to drown in his blood (repetiion again!) !

Above him he could hear the dragon-man laughing. Must escape!

"You, I may just let live." It growled, hardly audible.

"I will be honored by my ancestors. It is you that shall live an eternity of punishment!" Kriana bravely shouted back at him.

"Grahhhh! Meet them now and you will find out for yourself."

Something like the sound of a powerful wind replied. Then Zahilla smelled the distinct smell of burning wood. No! Not the fire! He tried to struggle free of the bloody mud but could not move. Must escape! He struggled for a few more minutes but then gave up. I'm going to die... Now Zahilla himself emitted the smell of an animal that is finding a place to lay down and die. At least no one else will die (more repetition ...) because of me.

The ground around him began to warm up and an orange light glowed between the slats in the floor. Flames licked across the walls and cooked the mud around Zahilla as hard as a brick. I wonder what dieing (dying)feels like. Will the ancestors accept me? The air itself hurt him now and he could feel his face begin to burn. Then the ground beneath him began to tilt and sway and the orange light began to go dark. This is it. I must be dieing (repetition).


At this stage you may feel like I'm simply picking your work to pieces. To a certain extent I am, because I believe this is the best way to provide feedback, rather than "oh hey, you's pretty good". I'm hoping that the points I'm making are valuable to you, and help you improve your story.

I am more than happy to provide you with more feedback if you would like, or to have another read once you have done some more editing. I think you have an interesting idea here, and it would be awesome to see it grow into something great!

Keep up the writing!

Ham




7
7
Review of Aural Projection  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi Rikki,

Since you reviewed one of my pieces, I thought it only fair if I return the gesture :)

I'm a HUGE music fan as well, and can totally relate to what you are writing about. I think you've captured the feelings that a song can illict from someone well, and you've done a solid job of explaining how Drift Away effects you.

I really like the parapgraph where you describe how the song "takes me back". The simple descriptions you've used for the events are nice and concise, and yet there is that sense of emotion from each one as well, or at least that is how I felt when I read it.

There are a couple of small, technical points that stuck out with your story. You have one line, and I quote ...

"There are songs that should never be allowed to die. They need to be renewed, so that subsequent generations can benefit from them. There are songs that are so iconic, it seems sacrilegious to remake them."

You then go on to describe that Drift Away is both, which is fine. I did have to read the sentence above a few times though, as it felt like you were contradicting yourself. I think you could address that by doing something like ....

"There are songs that should never be allowed to die. They need to be renewed, so that subsequent generations can benefit from them. There are OTHER songs HOWEVER that are so iconic, it seems sacrilegious to remake them".

To me, it just highlights that you are making two very different points, and this then lends emphasis to what you say about Drift Away.

You also have one line where there is a little repetition ...

"I’m thankful Mentor Williams put a piece of his soul into the song, and I’m thankful Dobie Gray found it, wrapped it in a piece of his own soul, and poured it out for the world to hear."

I understand what you're trying to say here, but the use of the word "soul" twice in the long sentence just feels a little clunky. I'm not sure what you could do to address this though, as I can understand what you're trying to say.

Overall though, I really liked reading your piece, so thank you for sharing and keep writing!!

Ham


8
8
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
Hi,

DISCLAIMER: Please accept the following comments and suggestions as one readers opinion only. Use anything you find helpful and discard the rest. Your story should be written as YOU see fit. With that said, here is my review:

Poetry isn't my strength, so I'm unable to comment on anything overly technical, however, in saying that, I liked the rhyming pattern you established, it made it fairly easy to read, and you were consistent throughout your work, for the most part.

I really liked your diea for the poem. so many people overlook these situations when writing about Christmas, and whilst it's not exactly positive, it is certainly a reality of this time you the year. Well done for focusing on such a topic.

I think you did an excellent job of catching the feelings of the narrator as well.

In regards to constructive feedback, I don't have a lot. There are a couple of places I think a comma could help a little, and your lines become slightly longer towards the end of your work, but this is very much a personal preference thing.

So overall, well done!

Ham

9
9
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: ASR | (4.0)
Hi,

I'm far from an expert on poetry, so from a structural/technique point of view, I can't really comment on your work. What I can comment on however is the "enjoyment factor" of your poem.

I had to read it a couple of times to really absorb the imagery. That is not a criticism of you, more of myself. But I actually enjoyed the picture you painted. You've used some excellent descriptive language that flows well.

I'm sorry I'm unable to comment much more than this, but from a complete "poetry noob", I enjoyed it.

Keep writing!

Ham

10
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Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 18+ | (4.5)
Hi,

First up, well done. This is a great story. I really liked how you set the scene and established your main character in a quick and concise fashion, leaving yourself plenty of room to develop the rest of the story.

I also enjoyed the overall concept of your piece. It is straightforward, and well thought out. I also think you executed your idea well.

In regards to constructive criticism, there are only a few points.

Firstly, there are a couple of times where I felt sentences were a little wordy, for example:

"She had been scared then but not now, not anymore, not today." - The word 'not' feels over used.

And ...

"A rape victim? Me? Now? Here? This way? " - Too many questions.

Another point -there are a lot of pronouns towards the end of the story. This can get a little confusing when the angel is also a she, e.g

". Angela smiled again, and those black, soft eyes penetrated her soul searched and found her past, present and future; and SHE knew that SHE had never been a stranger in her existence. ".

I'm also just a little confused about the ending of your story. The Angel seems to manifest in mirrors, and reaches through the mirror to save her, so why does she break it in the end? To hide the scene on the other side? Could people even see it? For me, when I read that she smashed the mirror, it felt like she was triny to get rid of the angel, which didn't seem right.

I really enjoyed reading your piece, it's one of the best I have read all week. Well done!

Happy holidays :)

Ham


11
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Review of Vlad's Wife  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hi,

I'm a big fan of the stories around Vlad the Impaler, so it was great to come across your piece of work.

I liked the straightforward nature of your story. It was interesting to read something that was attempting to capture a single moment. I did find it maybe a little too short though, but maybe that is a good thing as it has obviously left me wanting more!

I am a little confused about the nature of the arrow. Was it to warn of the invasion? And if so, the Ottoman were already there, so it doesn't seem that much of a warning. Maybe letting the reader know what was on the note, especially if it was of a more personal nature to the main character, would help.

There are also a few grammatical points that took me out of ther story a little. Your first line ....."Jusztina ducked at her bedroom window ....." doesn't read smoothly for me.Maybe something like "Justztina ducked just in time as the arrow swished through the window, narrowly missing her head". Just a suggestion.

There are a few other points in your story that are similar to this, and just need a little tweaking to make it a smoother read.

Overall though, I liked it. I actually want more!

Happy holidays :)

Ham



12
12
Review of Morning Brew  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi,

I like the form of the poem, it's nice and simple, and it appears that you've stuck to te rules outlined in the assignment. You've also done a good job of conveying the joy of that early morning coffee, so well done!

Happy holidays :)

Ham

13
13
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi,

I really like the message in this poem, as being an ex-teacher, as well as having two step children, I can relate to what a child brings to your life. I think you've captured that very well.

I did find your poem a little hard to read, which detracted from the enjoyment for me a little. Now this is a very personal thing for me, I don't read a lot of poetry, so am not used to the kind of structure you used. Others may not have any problems, so this is not a criticism, just an observation :)

Overall all though, I liked it. Well done, and happy holidays!

Ham

14
14
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: ASR | (5.0)
Hi!

This is the best poem I've read over the last few weeks! Having a tendency to appreciate the "darker" styles of writing at times, I really enjoyed this. At no point did any of the language you use feel forced, or make no sense.

You committed to a certain style, and stuck with it allt he way through, which I enjoyed as a reader.

There were a couple of spots where the rhythm felt just a little off, maybe a line slightly too long, but that really is me nit picking!

Well done, and happy holidays!

Ham

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Review of LED BY A STAR  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with SIMPLY POSITIVE GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi,

It's always nice to hit a piece of writing relating to the holiday season.

I found your work to be simple and straightforward, but in a good way. It was easy to read, and told the story well.

I did find that some of your rhythm was off in the occasional verse. For example, the last line of the first verse needed one more word (maybe well worn, instead of just worn?).

Overall, a nice piece of work, thanks for putting it up and happy holidays!

Ham

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Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ | (3.5)
Hi!

First up, I'd like to say nice work. I enjoyed premise of your story and how you've approached it. You've done a good job of painting a picture of the two main characters also.

There are a couple of points that, in my opinion, would really help improve the story. Firstly, punctuation. There are a lot of commas and full stops either missing, or in the wrong place. This made reading some of your work a lot harder than it could have been.

You also have a tendency to create overly long sentences, again through using lots of commas. I personally prefer shorter, snappy sentences, it makes the work easier to read, adn gives a bit more weight to each sentence.

I also found that you used adjectives a little too much. Almost even item, facial expression, movement, is described with extra detail. I found this detracted a little from what was happening at times, and also took away from when something important happened. I also felt that some of the descriptions (the front window spat light; he gave up on the smile and replaced it with his normal features) just didn't sit right for me.

Lastly, you slip from one characters perspective to another throughout the story. We start off in Marken's head, then move Halmonth later on. This can be a little confusing. As a reader, I like to stay in one persons headspace throughout a piece, unless there is a new chapter, or something to break the work up.

After reading through what I've written, it seems like I'm pulling your work to pieces! But I actually liked reading it, and everything that I've commented on its comparatively minor and would be easy to adjust if you felt it was needed.

I look forward to reading the second part of your story, keep it up.

Ham
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Review of Mansquatch  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi again Kevin.

Well you got a couple of audible chuckles from me when I read this, so well done. It's nice to read random pieces of light hearted writing such as this.

Overall it's well written. There are a few sentences which I found a little awkward to read due to the occasional lapse in punctuation (missing comma etc), or a little wordy (I suffer the same allfiction!) but most importantly it was enjoyable to read.

I thought you might like to know that there have been sightings of Mansquatchs in Australia too. And now I'm off to "Mac Donalds" ....

Ham
18
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Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi Kevin,

I love the idea of your poem, it's great, and something anyone who's in a commited relationship can relate to.

The only constructive feedback I can offer relates to the middle part. You establish a rhyming pattern of every second line ("say", "day" then at the end, "frame", "name"), however in the middle you change that to the first and third (ends, bends). To me it just throws the rhythm of the whole piece of slightly.

Apart from that, I hope your wife liked it :)

Ham
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Review of Waiting  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hi!

I really like this! I love they way you describe the characters in such simplicity, but it somehow made me form an instant image of each one in my head.

You've also used some nice descriptive language in there, it paints the scene well, especially for something so simple.

Nicely done.

H.
20
20
Review of But Alas  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (2.5)
Hi!

You're poem popped up on the front page so I thought I'd throw you a quick review.

I like the overall idea of the poem, I think everyone's been in the same boat.

I did find that your poem was a little long, and some of the verses, especially the rhyming, seemed a little forced.

The verse starting with "and it's all cuz" seems really out of place. It feels like you've gone from using wonderful, descriptive text in other verses, to almost slang. It just feels out of place.

In my own opinion, if you cut out a couple of verses, this poem would be that much better.

And I love your final line, best of the whole poem, and a great way to finish!

H.
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Review of Thorn Tower  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ | (4.5)
First up, I'd like to say this is a fantastic piece of work! I've entered into the same competition and after reading your entry, feel like mine is rather lacking!

You use marvellous descriptive text to pain a very vivid image of events and help carry the sense of urgency the main character has in gettig to Rapunzel. I also really like the song that she is singing, to lure him in.

The twist at the end - nice!

Really the aspect of your narrative that seems to be slightly out of place is the way Rapunzel talks. Theodoric speaks almost formally, which suits him, and Rapunzel seems very casual, almost modern, if that makes sense. I'm not sure if that is intentional, for her to seem incredibly casual or not, but it just seemed to stick out.

Anyway, as I originally stated, that was awesome, well done!

Hamish
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Review of Hindsight  Open in new Window.
Review by Ham on Rye Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Nice, I like the flow to your writing, there is something simple that captures the essence here. Keep it up :)

H.
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