An excerpt from my story-do you think it's good writing?

Question

“Daniela.” A gentle whispering voice spoke my name.

“Daniela.” It beckoned me through the darkness, filling the cold silence.

And then…a face. A beautiful face. It was a male about my age, but looking in his eyes I could tell he was not the same. His face was oval-shaped but thin, with high cheekbones, a strong-set jaw, pointed nose, and a glorious set of pink lips that were calling me. But suddenly it was dark again and the face was blocked from my view. But just as quickly it came back, as if a camera shutter was placed in front of my eyes, and then I could see him again, the entire length of his body-his thin yet strong set of shoulders, his long torso and ever-going legs. He was surrounded by a silent crowd of people shifting all around him on the crowded sidewalk where he stood, unmoving, as they even passed through him, as if he weren’t even there. Their air shifted the soft amber hairs that lay on his forehead and the stark white t-shirt that lay limply on his shoulders. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his plain faded jeans, his face tilted towards the ground as the crowed moved in slow motion, their hands and feet and bodies shifting only a few inches per minute. The male stood as still as a statue, making no movements towards or away from them. He just stood there mutedly, his chin tucked into his chest, his eyes downcast. And I understood the sign as shame and defeat. He’d given up on the world. And the world had given up on him.

And for a few moments, it was just that. Painfully and dreadfully silent. But then, slowly, his head tilted upwards, his hazel eyes opening and staring straight ahead. And then those beautiful full lips were moving, and my name fell out of them.

“Daniela.”

He lifted his arm slowly, his large hand reaching out as if to grasp something out in front of him, reaching and reaching-

And I awoke.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

I opened my eyes to a room awash with darkness. The only light came through the windows behind the couch. I sat up, my t-shirt twisted around and my shorts riding up my legs. My cheeks were fiery and I felt almost feverish.

The rain that was hitting the rooftop was as soft as music and it soothed me. Lifting up my head, I glanced out of the living room window to watch as the rain met with the panes on the roof, painting them with its’ gift.

Drip-drop, drip-drop, drip-drop.

The rhythmic beat of the raindrops hitting the windowpane became memorized in my brain and my soul. My heart thumped to their rhythm, and for a second it almost made me forget about the dream.

The dream.

I closed my eyes again and I could see the cold hazel of his eyes, the confusion and sorrow that lay deep within his gaze, far beneath the uncaring demeanor.

And his beautiful lips…

My eyelashes fluttered open as I tried to shake the dream from my mind. But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. The look on his face bothered me. Who is he?

I closed my eyes and pictured the face again. I could see it all-the oval face, the chilling hazel eyes, the full pink lips that continued to say my name, although I couldn’t hear him. He mouthed it over and over again, Daniela. Daniela. Daniela.

I wanted to cry out but I bit my lip. Instead, I shut my eyes tightly and wished and wished and wished it away. But his face never escaped from my vision. His piercing eyes and full lips never faded away. And soon enough, I found myself searching my memory for any guy who looked like this one, but couldn’t find any resemblance. He was the only one who looked like this, the only one who held such magnificence and didn’t even know it. He was absolutely gorgeous, but his gaze terrified me. Deep within those hazel eyes, he held a deep and distressing secret. And somehow, he was in my dream. This boy I knew nothing of. I knew nothing but what I had just dreamt. But I was aware of one thing.

I was haunted by his face.

It took me a longer time to fall asleep after that dream. I spent over 3 hours racked with frightening chills, although I had no fever. My eyes followed the shadows along the walls of the room, as though I were a maniac. I was afraid for myself. But soon enough, the shivers subsided and my eyelids began to gain a million-and-one pounds, and then finally I slept. I slept and I dreamt of nothing. Light airy nothing.

Answer 1

It's okay, but the description of the boy in her dream is bland and uninteresting. There are more descriptive ways to go about telling us that his nose is pointy or his lips are full and pink.  Many of your sentences are short.  You should attempt to use longer sentences for variety.  Also, many of your sentences are clauses.  You can't start a sentence with "but."  If it begins with but, it is a clause.  I encourage rule-breaking in writing, but this is one I am adamant about.  You also have a lot of repetition "and wished and wished and wished." Repetition is good in poetry but not in prose.  In prose writing it just comes off as immature.  You're also misusing commas in certain places.  Overall, though, it's okay, and with a good editor it will make a great beginning for a story.

Answer 2

I like it. You have obviously gone for a poetic style of prose, which is very good to see. However, if you are going to write in a poetic style, really commit to it! Look up some poetic style points and add them in, for example, alliteration, similes, oxymorons, personification, etc. Also, make it more rhythmic: count the syllables in your sentences, especially when you have a few short ones in a row, and start to create a rhythm in your prose.

The images you have created are strong and although I am not normally a fan of lists of attributes, I would say that you can get away with it in a more poetic style if you add rhythm to those sentences. In your case you also pick up on the image of the pink lips later, which I love as a motif. If I were you I may even put them in more (i.e. repeat the phrase "pink lips") to reinforce the fact that you are not accidently repeating, but are purposefully reinforcing the importance of the image.

As far as the thing about not starting sentences with "but" mentioned by another poster, you can do what you want. If you were writing in a more formal style then it might be a problem, but the poetic lilt contained in your prose negates this issue - poets have complete artistic licence!! Also, as far as short sentences go, I love them! They are punchy and have the potential to create a really good rhythm, thus adding to the poetic feel. You have mixed them with longer sentences, so I really don't see the problem. Maybe the other poster was suggesting that you go for a stream of consciousness type style in places? You could mix that in there for contrast, but you really don't have to as it's fine as it stands.

Hope that helps!

EDIT: Don't change the bit about the narrator's eyelids gaining "a million-and-one pounds" (as someone else suggests), I love that image! It is hyperbolic, but that's what makes it work - the hyperbole breaks with the style up to that point, just as the narrator breaks away from her dream. And I love the fact that it's a million "and-one", it has such a lovely rhythm!

Answer 3

     I think it's very good.  You've gone to a lot of trouble with description.  Read it out loud and see how it sounds.  This is often a good way to pick up any mistakes you may have made.  Cut the bit about your eyelids gaining 'a million and one pounds'. Just say some thing like; 'my eyelids began to close.'  The other's hyperbole in the extreme.  Keep at it, though.  I think you're doing very well,

Good luck

Mike B

Answer 4

wonderful, but use more bliss full words that pull the readers in and if you are going describe something, don't use the same word over and over to describe it, like how you described his lips full and pink over and over, that is bland and thoughtless. say like his tight and dashing lips that were set upon his face with anger and confusing, the same feeling that was intertwined in his eyes that disturbed me.

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