Necromortis

I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while and I finally set down to writing it. It's a work in progress, so I'll be updating this thread as I write (I'll be updating in chapter installments). I'm really not sure what genre this would be considered as - it's set in modern times and...well, I can't really summarize the plot as it would give way too much away. It really defies classification. So please, I'd love comments and critiques.

The first chapter may seem a little slow (although I hope not too slow), but I wanted to get something up here and I didn't want to wait until I had three or more chapters written and just flood you guys with text, so here's the prologue and first chapter.

Enough of that though. Here I go:

There is a certain ease of mind that comes when you are told that you have a mental disorder. At first, the mind recoils, it rejects the idea immediately as outrageous, for if the walls in your head begin to crumble, what else is there? Yet sane is a relative term, and once your thoughts have grappled with the concept for long enough, and quiet acceptance is reached, peace floods the system. Finally, some unanswerable questions have answers, and the mysteries of your life seem to become illuminated. All in all, your life seems easier once you have accepted the possibility that your mind does not function on the same level as the other ‘normal’ people around you. You feel a sense of triumph when you act in a sane manner and justification when you stray from the beaten path. However, a small voice whispers to you in the back of your head, asking you whether you can really trust the conclusions you’ve drawn. You are insane, after all.

At least, that’s how it was for me.

As usual, my eyes shot open just seconds before my cell phone’s alarm clock went off. Almost instantaneously, I had it in my hand and was in the process of shutting off the obnoxious beeping. The alarm’s purpose wasn’t to wake me up – instead, it provided a reminder that I had things that needed to be done, and that I should get out of bed as soon as possible. In typical teenage fashion, I ignored it and lay in bed for fifteen more minutes. After I’d finally mustered the energy to pry myself away from the warmth of my bed, I stumbled into the shower and began to get ready.

Another school year had begun, and I easily fell into the daily routine that a monotonous lifestyle brings on. Once I’d gotten dressed, I glanced around my room out of habit, taking a mental inventory of its contents. With a small smile, I determined that nothing was missing, and trudged downstairs for breakfast. On the way down, I saw my older sister coming up the stairs. She woke up before I did, and had finished getting prepared for school by the time I came down to eat a bowl of Lucky Charms. She disappeared into her room with a smile and a quiet laugh at my half-awake appearance. Showers didn’t always wake me up completely, and I was in no hurry to join the conscious world. No one is on the first day of school.

Despite the fact that I finished breakfast after my sister, I still managed to be standing by the car waiting for her to unlock it. After my parents had forced me to transfer to the same school as my sister, I hadn’t even had to ask her for a ride to school in the mornings. She’d just assumed it was the most economical way of doing things.

We pulled up to the front office and my sister let me out, wished me good luck, and drove off to find a parking spot. I looked around at the squat brown building in front of me and couldn’t help but notice that there weren’t very many windows. I pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by the secretary.

“You must be Anthony, correct?”

News travels fast in small schools, and apparently, this was no exception.

I smiled as I said hello, attempting to make a good first impression. She handed me a small stack of papers, and explained that everything I needed was in there. I leaved through it and found my schedule and a map of the school amongst some other papers. I thanked her for my schedule and her helpful advice as I left the office. I gave my schedule a glance, realizing with relief that the school operated on a rotating block schedule. Memorizing it was easy, it was almost identical to the schedule I had at my old school. The only difference was that I had different classes during each period. I stepped out into the early morning light and looked around. The school had a simple layout, one which reminded me of a prison complex, so it didn’t take me long to figure out where everything was.

As I trudged to my history class, I tried to keep out of the way. It wasn’t hard, since my sister and I had gotten to school early so I could pick my schedule up, and I managed to get to the classroom before most of the other kids. The few students already in the classroom gazed at me openly, but I ignored them. It was to be expected. The teacher was standing by the door, so I quickly introduced myself, and then crept to the back right hand corner of the classroom, which was empty.

I settled into my seat and my shoulders relaxed gradually. I looked around, noticing the posters on syntax and grammar next to timelines of important events in American and European history. My eyes drank in the location of the teacher’s desk in relation to the students’ desks, the exits, and how the whiteboard was set up. The entire classroom was neat, arranged so nothing would get in the way of anything important.

By the time I was done looking around the room, the first bell had already sounded, so I bent down to retrieve a notebook and binder for the class. As I was folded in half, I head the door open and the rest of the class enter. I resisted the urge to look up, instead choosing to remain where I was a little longer. As I felt their gazes rake over me, I shuddered involuntarily as my muscles tightened. I straightened up and leaned back in my chair, sweeping the faces of everyone in the class, trying not to show much emotion. There’s nothing more dangerous than emotion in a strange place.

“That’s the ne-“

“He looks fine to me, don’t know what the fuss w-“

“Check out his eyes, they’re really blu-“

“That’s kind of creepy man.”

Friends whispered to each other, the thoughts and statements accompanied by inquisitive looks and the occasional welcoming smile. I smiled back at the kids who had worked up the courage to acknowledge the possible social stigma in their midst.

“Alright, settle down everyone. I’d like everyone to welcome Anthony Larson, who’s new to our school this year. I trust that everyone will show him a welcome worthy of our community.” Mr. Nelson’s strong voice cut through the whispers and idle chatters with a crack. He had a commanding presence and I could immediately tell that I was going to like him.

‘New information has just been revealed about the test subject in the back right corner,’ I thought bitterly to myself, remembering why I hated new schools. The room had become absolutely quiet when the teacher had said my name. If this school was as small as I thought it was, the entire grade would know who I was by lunchtime. I resigned myself to that fact and shifted my attention to Mr. Nelson, who had just begun handing out and explaining the class syllabi.

The rest of the day went by in much the same manner. There were a few kids kind enough to offer their help in finding my next class, and a few were even brave enough to ask me how I liked the school so far. The five minute passing periods didn’t afford much time for idle chatter however, and I spent most of my time sitting in the back of classrooms listening to various teachers talk about how they would be teaching their classes.

When the lunch bell rang, I hung back in an attempt to avoid the mad scramble for the cafeteria. A few minutes after leaving Statistics, I walked into the cafeteria and got in line for lunch. It wasn’t anything I’d consider eating if I’d cooked it myself, but that’s the nature of cafeteria food. I picked up my plate and stood awkwardly off to the side of the room. Occasionally I’d catch people staring – when that happened their eyes quickly darted back to their own plates.

I shrugged to myself and was about to make my way towards an isolated table when a kid from my Chemistry class came up to me and asked if I’d like to sit at his table. I moved across the dining hall after him, feeling a small grin creep across one side of my face. I sat down and put on a smile for the table, once again trying to make a good first impression. How good life in a small school like this was is often determined on first impressions.

As soon as I sat down, I was hit with a barrage of questions.

“Hey, slow down please. I can’t tell one question from the next,” I said after about thirty seconds, holding up both my palms in a gesture of surrender. My words had the desired effect – the flow of questions stopped as smiles went around the table. The questioning session soon started, but at least they came one at a time now.

“What do you think of the school? How’s it compare to your old school?” asked a sandy-haired girl covered in freckles.

“So far it’s fine. School’s school really; that doesn’t change whether it’s a school with a thousand kids per grade or less than one hundred.”

“Why’d you come here then?”

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t have much choice. I was doing pretty badly at my old school…I didn’t see the value in what they were teaching us and didn’t…really try. So my parents sent me here, convinced that I wasn’t doing well because of the school was ‘inferior.’” I laughed then. “But I don’t really mind. Like I said, school’s school, and I try not to get too attached to any one place.”

I carried on the small talk – answering questions about my background, my family, and my interests. Everyone knew my sister, but they were all wondering if I was as studious as she was, or if they should expect a completely different person.

‘It’s really hard to talk about yourself without sounding egotistical or self-deprecating,’ I thought to myself, while confirming that despite being forced to transfer because of grades, I had a decent work ethic and got good grades.

I stood up as the bell rang, said goodbye to the people I’d had lunch with, and went to my last class.

After my last class, my sister found me walking towards my locker and sped me off to her car. I couldn’t determine the need for her urgency, but seeing as I hadn’t brought anything besides notebooks and a few empty binders in my book bag to school that day, I didn’t put up a fuss.

A few kids looked sideways at us as I was rushed outside, and I thought I caught a few nods in my direction from people I thought I recognized. I barely had time to nod back before we were gone.

“What’s the rush?” I asked quietly as we got into the car.

“We just need to get home, okay?”

“Right.” There really wasn’t much more to say. She obviously had her reasons and didn’t want to share, so I let the matter drop. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander as I contemplated the upcoming school year.

Cheers,
~Christian

A-L

It doesn't feel rushed to me, I enjoyed the pace. Keep it up, this was good so far.

JWalker

I have to agree with A-L. It wasn't slow and I enjoyed the piece as well, can't wait for more.

JW

Necromortis

Thanks for the comments so far guys.

Just thought I'd add - I just went through and added about 400 words to Chapter One, and I'm actually pretty satisfied with the events in it now. I just needed to extend it a little bit, because it felt too short.

I also went through the entire thing and edited things in/out - I've discovered that I have the tendency to write 'blah blah blah AND blah blah blah' when 'blah blah blah blah blah' would have sufficed.

Keep the comments coming guys. I'd especially like to hear any critiques on things I can improve.

Ya-hey,
~Christian

P.S. Chapter Two coming sometime soon (probably by the end of this weekend, maybe even by tomorrow night if I really get into it).

Katastrof

I read this and instead of a story, it felt like someone was telling me their first day at school. It was dry; it didn't have much conflict (I don't call tacking on a cliff hanger at the end of the chapter conflict...) and it was monotonous. The latter part I think is good because that was what you were going for (with the first day of school and all) but without any conflict your reader is going to give up on you really fast.

Also I know you're trying to hint at the character's mental illness to create suspense but you've already explained that he's insane; it's kinda trivial now. And to me, your character doesn't seem insane at all, maybe a little sociopathic, but not insane.

Which brings me to another point: Your prologue is one paragraph long and is just a one large piece of explaining. You could easily just put that in chapter 1 anyways. Also it is unnecessary and hurts your piece. Why? Well, because it can easily be sprinkled throughout chapter 1, creating the suspense and conflict that you need. That being said, it's a very good hook and it's well written. Except, the rest of the work doesn't live up to what the hook let on.

Another thing, your dialog is a bit...unrealistic. If your character is new to a school he usually won't get smiling faces, especially if there is a rumor going around that he is insane. However, because he's insane that might mean that his perspective of the world is skewed, which would grant his slightly unrealistic views of the world around him. But that's still tricky because you have to int to readers his mistaken views...

All that being said, your writing flows really well for a first novel and I think the concept could have some potential. You just have to execute it right. Keep writing, though you truly have a a budding talent for words.

(Sorry for the scathing review, but I figured you wanted some constructive criticism. I know I wanted some when I posted my first story...)

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Read:

When The Man Comes Around

"Carpe Diem, quam minimum credula postero"
(Seize the day put no trust in tomorrow.) ~ Horace

Necromortis

THANK YOU! No joke, I really needed something like that (and everyone else - keep them coming). Positive comments are great, but they generally don't help you improve.

However, I feel like I need to do some explaining. He's not insane...yet. The prologue foreshadows what's going to happen, and serves as a hook (and you're right, I can probably just remove it). So he's not actually insane yet - perhaps removing the prologue would make things go a bit better, because then the reader doesn't expect the character to be insane right off the bat (which he isn't).

There will be conflict in the second chapter, it's where one of the main problems with the character is revealed (which in turn develops into a second problem).

I really don't want to give away to the plot for the entire novel, so unfortunately some things are going to stay in the dark for a while. Rest assured though, it's not going to be dry or monotonous for much longer (although it really shouldn't be dry or monotonous at all). I'll go over Chapter One again and try and make it a bit more realistic - throw in a slightly less positive reception at school, generate some conflict to keep the reader engaged.

Thanks a bunch for the criticism. Expect more sometime soon (I've got a four day weekend coming up, so probably then - before then is slightly unrealistic...the rest of this week is death).

~Christian

Faith9

I love it so far! :p

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One_Who_Writes_Fantasy

Hey, I really like your story, it's great so far. What really got me hooked was the opening paragraph; I thought it as so good I read it aloud to my family; they thought that it as good, too.

Just a few little things...

Normally, whenever I write, or whenever I see someone write, the thoughts of a person are always in italics, which you have, but they're not supposed to have quotations around them. Example:

It’s really hard to talk about yourself without sounding egotistical or self-deprecating, I thought to myself....

Also, the teacher Mr Nelson... it was confusing at first. I knew he was the teacher, but you hadn't mentioned him before. Maybe you should mention him before he begins to talk. Example:

The teacher was standing by the door, so I quickly introduced myself - I found out his name was Mr. Nelson - and then crept to the back right hand corner of the classroom, which was empty.

And, why did Anthony's sister go to a different school than him? From the description and size of the school, it doesn't sound like a private school to me. I mean, the school you go to is determined by where you live, so why wouldn't they be going to the same school? Don't they live together?

That's all for now, I'm looking forward to reading any more that may write, if you choose to do so.

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Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~ Anton Chekhov

Necromortis

Thanks for the comments. I'm so sorry I haven't gotten around to posting up the second chapter - it's not actually finished yet (I'm so ashamed). Real life and family got in the way. But hopefully I'll have a ton of time to write tomorrow, so, we'll see...hopefully I'll finish Chapter Two.

A quick clarifying point (I'm pretty sure I've said this already) - the character isn't insane (yet). So please don't read it as if he is, and there are no rumors about him being insane. Things will hopefully become clearer in the next chapter.

One_Who_Writes_Fantasy: Thanks for the comments. I'll go through and change the thought formatting, and look over the passage where Mr. Nelson is introduced. I just didn't want to tell the reader that was what his name was - I was trying to show it (unsuccessfully I guess). Finally - it is a private school, although I didn't come out an say it, I assumed that people could figure that out (since he's transferring to it - correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you can transfer from public school to public school unless there's two school's in your district - and because it's small...which I also haven't outright said, but I tried to convey that).

Anyhow, I really should break the habit of replying to every comment that someone gives me. I don't think it's conducive to getting reviews.

Anyway, thanks for critique
~Christian

Freedom Is Not Free

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Katastrof

^^^^
That's what I was trying to say in my post.

__________________
Read:

When The Man Comes Around

"Carpe Diem, quam minimum credula postero"
(Seize the day put no trust in tomorrow.) ~ Horace

JasonX

Wow! Your Prologue was great (albeit a little short) it really hooked me! Do you suffer from a mental illness? I'm sorry if that offends you but you seemed to grasp on to what it would be like (I can't say I would know). Keep writing, it was wonderful to read.

Freedom Is Not Free

Katastrof: yeah, when I went back and looked I saw that our posts were pretty similar. I guess when there's something that doesn't feel right more then one person will pick up on it. Haha.

I agree that it is good to point out when a story sounds good, but when taking creative writing courses in college I quickly learned that giving the basic "its great!" comments are the last thing that the writer wants to hear. They want to hear what you think is wrong, what someone feels that should be changed. This is what writers are looking for when they post their stories here. I used to hate getting papers back, waiting for that criticism that would help me edit and tweak my story to make it better and all I get were grade school thumbs ups. It doesn't help you progress, in fact, it holds you back. I used to hate it, and I still dislike it.

I really think that if there is some action going on surrounding the sister, that maybe it should be sprinkled through out the first chapter. You know, Anthony overhearing some side comments or maybe seeing something he shouldn't see. I'm not sure how to say it because I'm not sure what's going on. But you have to place action through out the story, something that draws the reader in and makes them want to keep reading every word rather then skimming, as I found myself doing at a few different points, to get to that end and see what's happening.

And I know other's might disagree with me, but I don't really like Cliff Hanger endings. I kind of find it as a cheap way for the author to end the chapter. If something is going to happen, then write it down. Leaving hanging thoughts or actions is really a turn off to me as a reader. I want to know what's happening, and granted I can just turn the page, but most authors that leave cliff hangers don't jump right back into the action at the start of the next chapter and back track a little. The only time I think a cliff hanger works is if it is an interactive story in which time goes on before the next installment comes out as a way to draw the reader back next week to find what's going on. But in a book, I tend to be the person that will read to the end of a chapter and then put the book down to return to real life. So I find it highly annoying when a chapter ends like that because on one hand, I do want to read on and find out what happens, but if I'm putting the book down its because I have to do something else and being left hanging like that makes me want to stop reading because I don't want the annoyance.

Also, its hard to feel anything about Anthony, and even if the main character is an antagonist, you still have to have some kind of connection with them be a love or a hate of them. Anthony is just kind of neutral, like the type of character that falls to the back of the story easily and people can forget. Like "Pig Pen" from Stephen King's (or Richard Bachman) novella Rage. Yeah, if you gave a little more depth to the character he could be right out there with the main character, but without as much he just falls to the side. Anthony is like that. It starts out where you think he's going to be the odd kid out and that you are going to feel for him as the new kid who is still shied away from, to easily slipping into a new table and meeting people. It makes him neutral in that sense. You can't feel sorry for him, but you can't really like him either. You want to feel sorry that he's so negative, but at the same time you want to dislike him because he slipped into a new school so easily that you suddenly find your self not caring for him in any manner. I would say to pick one side of him and stick with it. Either make him an antagonist or a protagonist. Either make him the weird, left out new kid that we can feel sorry for, or the new all around Joe that everyone can like and we start to like as well because of that.

As I said, you have an amazing way with words and I can see you easily being able to put something on paper that would just knock a reader away. But right now, the nice words aren't really enough. There needs to be a hook in the first chapter, because this is when you really need to grab your reader's attention so that they will stick with the story. While the prolouge does do that, it also confuses you for the first chapter and in all honesty, you're better off without it. You will confuse your readers if you go back later to show that Anthony does not yet know of his disorder and most likely loose them again. I say take it out and sprinkle in the hints later or wait until it comes up in the story all together.

My question is, is the story about his disorder or is about something else? Too many hooks will end up being just as bad and just as confusing as no hook.

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Freedom Is Not Free

sorry...double post.

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didi768

I want to read it but the font is too small for my eyes tonight I guess.

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Di