Thread: The Jungle Swamp

Jungle Swamp:

Mystery of the Seventh Moon

Book I

By Jacob

Blaze:

Hey,
My name is Blaze Shadowthorn. I am writing this so I can never forget these last six months, as if I could. From running though New York, to avoiding Watonats finally challenging Xather for controlling of the seventh moon (I know it sound odd but it’s not what you think.) Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning, enjoy.

The day started out like any old day. I walked to school at 9, and arrived at school at 9:30. I rush slightly dodging the horrid hallway to my classes and cheered slightly when school ended. As I was walking home, I heard a voice saying “run”. I whirled around but saw no one. Mystified, I circled around until I saw movement in a bush to my left. I focused on it until out emerged a cat. It hissed venomously and slinked away. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Why run from a cat? I then started wondering about the voice. Was I going crazy? Do people randomly start hearing voices telling to run all the time? I imagined for a moment walking into a doctor’s office and trying to explaining to him that I’ve been hearing voices. I started to smile a little when an explosion rocked the earth. I was thrown down on the ground. I cursed and scrambled to my feet, whirling around as I did. Behind me stood a Watonat. Six feet tall, six arms add wings and the image of an extremely overgrown fly and you have a Watonat. Unfortunately I couldn’t laugh because it was pointing a sword at my throat. I felt the cool blade pushing against my skin. The Watonat sneered and poked me a little so blood trickled down. I gulped a little and tried staring at his red eyes. Wait a second red eyes? I began to blinked rapidly. Every time I blinked, his eyes would change. Red, blue, green, brown, gray, that was unnerving. I reached slowly for my backpack. Inside I always kept a pocket knife. I know, I know, you must think I have an irresponsible parent (well I do but that’s beside the point,) to let me bring a knife to school, but I talking to the principle and he agreed so it’s not like I’m smuggling anything even if it did take me four months three weeks five days before he agreed. My fingers closed around the knife and whipped it up to the Watonats face and held it directly in his red eyes. He snarled and lashed out with his sword. I dodged and threw my knife. It’s so lucky that I’ve been secretly practicing throwing knives in my backyard. Well, not really secretly but I was practicing or else I’d most likely be dead. It hit his multi changing eye and he roar with pain. He went mental, I mean he went crazy, like asylum insane. He first pranced around in a circle doing the Funky Chicken, then jumping and twisting his sword, finally he committed suicide and stabbed himself in the chest. I picked my knife shakily and put it back in my backpack and continued home. When I reached home, I dropped my backpack on my bed grunted I was home to my dad passed out on the coach and called one of my best friends Thomas. We walk home from school together most days but today he had a soccer tournament so he skipped school. We go way back and he is sort of my connection to the outside world. He insists I don’t meet enough people and that I should go out more often. I “help” him with some school and he drags me from place to place. Real good trade off but I don’t mind it to often as long as it doesn’t interfere with my calendar. The likelihood of it interfering with my calendar is zero because I don’t really do anything. Yeah real exciting like but it works. Could be worst, could be better. Well Thomas never really was good at answering his cell so it didn’t surprise me when it rang thought his voice mail.
“Hey man, I’m not here right now leave message unless you’re a mad psycho out to kill me. bye!”
Yeah, that’s his voice mail.
“Thomas,” I started, “Call me back when you get this.”
I flip my phone shut and a second later it was ringing. That was odd Thomas never called me right back before.

very good flow to the story.

I'm sorry but this isn't great writing. I have seen worse though. There is grammar problems, and also problems with your writing.

When you write about killing something, in this case a 6 foot creature, you need to make his death happen at a slower pace.

"He went mental, I mean he went crazy, like asylum insane. He first pranced around in a circle doing the Funky Chicken, then jumping and twisting his sword, finally he committed suicide and stabbed himself in the chest."

This is not a good sentence. Make this sentence into a paragraph at least. And others may think the "funky chicken" part is funny, but, I'm not sure it's appropriate for this scene.

Keep writing, you can only get better.

when i read this, i picture an imaginative and fairly young writer.
the main paragraph needs divided into smaller ones and fleshed out
with more description. i see potential, if you're as young as i believe
you to be. the more you write, the better you'll become.

If you just slow down a bit and take your time to really flesh things out, you'll have a great first few chapters here. A good rule to remember is "show, not tell," so instead of telling us about something happening, you want to show us. Painting a picture of your fictional world takes a slower pace, and more details. Some of your details really jump out, and the sentence "It's so lucky that I've been secretly practicing throwing knives in my backyard." made me laugh. Consider starting your story with this sentence, which is a real knockout, fleshing it out from there.

Other people have already hit the main points of grammar and detail. Pay special attention to dividing up your wall-o'-text into paragraphs. I can't tell you how much easier that makes it for people to critique your works.

Byond that, I have to advise you that the classic, "hey, my name is *insert name here* and you wouldn't believe what happened to me but it was totally real" opening just doesn't hold a lot of water. I know, it provides a good hook by letting you name-drop on some cool stuff that you've got coming in chapter 12, but personal experience has taught me that it's just better to start with a killer line like, "There are good day, there are bad days, and then there are days that start with a cyborg trying to Bolshevik muppet my a** into oblivion and go downhill from there." (That's my line, by the way; no stealing.)

Otherwise, it comes across as you saying "hey look, I have some cool stuff here" instead of, you know, showing your cool stuff in the story. Let your prose speak for you, and don't worry about being in-your-face with awesomeness. It'll come.