View Full Version : Poor Little Rich Girls

September 19th, 2010, 09:47 PM

Pretty little babies grow up to be gorgeous young ladies. Their rich mommies and
daddies might have been a little too busy to be there when their darlings were growing
up, but they made up for it with nice things and fancy schools. These poor little rich
girls have everything they could ever want, from designer wardrobes to
lovely frenemies to guaranteed acceptances into the Ivy League.
On the Upper East side, they may be filthy rich, but they still want more.

September 19th, 2010, 09:49 PM

The Backward OX
September 20th, 2010, 03:23 AM
The concept here is rather good. Stories about this level of society can be quite entertaining. If however the storyline stays only at the level of teenage groping it will soon lose its appeal. I’m hoping for more depth as the story unfolds.

Here’s a few things I noticed.

Well, bad news, Mommy and Daddy Newbury - your little Remy isn't quite the angel you think she is.

Every word of a story is told through someone’s eyes - either a character in the story or a narrator or at times even the author. This sentence baffles me. I cannot figure out who’s saying it.

"Whew!" breathed Gemma, running a hand through her hair. "It is ridiculously hot." It was September in New York City, but the Indian summer combined with the heavy traffic had made the entire city unbearably balmy.

My guess is that somewhere you’ve come across the word ‘balmy’ in relation to non-cold weather and decided it was a good word to use here. The trouble with this approach is that if the user doesn’t really know what the word means, they risk making themselves look foolish. This is what’s happened here. Balmy and hot have totally different meanings.

Matty was standing awkwardly in the middle of Remy's spacious bedroom, his hands in his pockets.

"Hmm," Matty said, stroking his chin. "This is a very serious case, indeed. What are the voices telling you to do now, Miss Newbury?" His warm brown eyes gazed seriously into Remy's wide blue ones. Their faces were dangerously close, and suddenly Remy didn't feel like they were playing around anymore.

"They're telling me," breathed Remy, hitching a breath as Matty reached out and brushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, "to..." she trailed off as Matty snaked his other arm around her. "...to kiss you."

Matty leant his face down and brushed his lips softly against Remy's.

When he gets on to Remy’s bed, this guy comes across as experienced with women. So the earlier ‘standing awkwardly’ doesn’t really gel. A self-assured guy is self-assured all the time.

But Matty was older, and ridiculously good-looking, and...oh %[email protected]!...her sister's boyfriend...

But Remy quickly brushed that thought aside. Of course Gemma was much too nice to ever cheat on anyone, let alone help someone else cheat. But Gemma was too nice for her own good, and Remy wasn't Gemma.

You’ve started three sentences with the same word. Not only that, ‘but’ is one of those words that in my opinion should be used sparingly at the best of times. It’s a dreadful word. In my opinion, that is.

Like I said, I like the concept. It'll be interesting to see where it goes.

September 21st, 2010, 05:44 PM
"Guess what!" came the bubbly tones of Gemma Newbury. "Matty-poo just won his lacrosse game! Well, technically Barton just won their lacrosse game against Crowning, but Matty totally scored the winning goal and most of the other ones!"

Not sure it's necessary to mention that Gemma is bubbly, we can tell that from her dialogue, and the fact that she "flounces" in the next paragraph.

Gemma came flouncing into her little sister Remy's bedroom, her blonde curls bouncing while she dragged her boyfriend behind her. She grinned widely at Remy. "Isn't that great, Rem?"

Remy Newbury was wholly unlike her older sister. Sure, they shared the same flaxen hair and blue eyes, but the similarities stopped about there. While Gemma was sweet and bubbly, Remy tended to be a bit more sarcastic and quiet. All of the Newbury family's friends on Manhattan's Upper East Side of course thought that the Newbury girls were just the sweetest little things ever, with their cherubic looks. Even Remy's very strict parents thought that she was a good little girl, their little darling. Well, bad news, Mommy and Daddy Newbury - your little Remy isn't quite the angel you think she is.

If the bolded part is Remy's thoughts, separate that into a different paragraph.

From her spot lounging on her expansive bed, Remy lazily lifted her head. She had been daydreaming while pretending to do her homework. Forcing a tiny smile, Remy replied, "Oh, yeah, that's nice. Good job, Matty."

Matty nodded at his girlfriend's little sister. "Thanks, Rem," he smiled at her. Remy bit her lip. That smile...it was just...gorgeous. Matthew Vanderpol was one of the most desired boys in Manhattan. He went to Barton, an exclusive school near the girls' Chapman School, and was the star lax player. A senior, Matty was good-looking and he certainly knew it. He was all that Remy's classmates talked about. And somehow, Remy's sister Gemma had managed to snag him.

Remy scowled just thinking about it. Gemma was the epitome of boring - senior class president, extra-curriculars up to her ass, always did her homework on time. Gemma's favorite thing to do on the weekend was to have a sophisticated tea party with a few close friends or go to brunch with her family. Why Matty Vanderpol, renowned party boy and sex god, was dating Gemma Newbury was an ongoing mystery to Remy.

How old is Remy exactly?

Those were pretty much the only things I could find specifically, IMO you get a bit too verbose, some of the descriptions could be cut down a little bit but overall good work, I'd read on. Return the favour on:

the chessmasters game (http://www.writingforums.com/writers-workshop/115137-chessmasters-game-opening-segment-new-post.html)