Critique- am i a good writer-please dont include spelling errors-i no i have lots-ill edit it later!:D?

Question

I slowly walked towards the small wooden door. My small Mary Janes made little or no sound as I neared closer. My mother had just told me to feed her, and I was doing so, for she would never do it herself. As I reached for the glass door k**b, a tingling feeling shot up my arm and through my whole body.I became stiff and petrified. But, this was the same feeling that overcame me everytime.I took a deep breath and opened the door, slowly, so that it wouldn’t make the slightest sound. I turned to face her, hunched over on the same old, oak bed and thrashed matress. She was nearly 13 yrs. older than me, but still lived with us and there was a reason, a frightening reason. Even though we heard her screeching cries for help, all through the night , we never helped her, never. I looked straight into her bloodshot eyes, and she met mine. She seemed to be staring straight into my soul. It was unsettling, I soon looked away. I paced towards the rickety bed, and studied her.

The same protruding bones, stretching her skin out to its near extent. The same crooked hands that seemed to be clenching something. I always looked at her in such horror and disgust, but she never said a word, for she couldn’t. Her long, jagged fingernails cut the palms of her hands, which had become raw and swollen. You could see the old, dry blood sitting there, peeling off, and crumpling onto the bed frame. It smelt as though a thousand corpse’s had been rotting in that room for million’s of years, and it was so cold, I felt as though I was in a freezer!

Once I reached the foot of her bed, I quickly set the bowl of split pea soup on the ground and began towards the door. I knew she couldn’t feed herself, but I didn’t care, I was so frightened and scared. As I reached the door, my mothers words echoed into the deep, depths of my mind. “If you don’t feed her ill beat you, and I mean it, this time, I mean it!" Memories of the wooden pole she had used to bash my head in when I was a "bad girl" came swarming back into my head. I raised my left hand to the top of my forehead, and felt where the bloody wound had once been. I turned around, and slowly paced towards the edge of the bed. As I approached it , I reached into the top left pocket of my flower-printed summer dress and plucked out a small, wooden ladle. I bent down and dug it into the bowl, then out again. The distasteful smell wafted from it, and made it’s way into my nostrils. I slowly walked over to her, the soup swishing this way, and that onto the dry, wood floor. As the spoon neared her mouth, she began to scream in agonizing pain. It reached the tip of...

her tongue, she tried to swallow it as huge droplets hit the matress and seeped through. Unable to consume it, she began to vomit profusely, every which way. It would usually sit there for weeks, rotting like an, old, mangled corpse, for I was always to afraid to get to very near to her . I usually waited until my mother nearly forced me to clean the putrid mess up. I look at her with a blank stare, emptiness. I knew she was my sister, but did I love her? I didn’t know. How COULD you love someone so disgusting and horrible looking? In a way I felt sorrowful, but in a sick way, I wonderfully enjoyed the night she died......

this is just the prologue, be nice, but be truthful, im only 13. if u say its good ill continue:D

0 seconds ago

+how can u get a book published?

section1.-beginning(continued)-

I had always wondered what was wrong with my sister, ever since I was a little girl. I would look up at my mother with the same coy expression, every time, asking ,"What's wrong with Lia?"She would simply come down to my level and scream into my ear,"Nothing,now go feed her!"I hardly remember the first moment of having to go into that dimly lit basement and seeing her nausiating body curled up on that beat up matress. I’m not much older now, only eleven, im used to stepping into that room and feeding her.Its just that I always thought she would be DEAD by now,why wont she just die all ready?! Its not that I wish for this ALL the time,sometimes I feel bad for her. Or DO I ? This question runs through my mind every second of every day. Maybe I DON'T feel bad for her. Maybe I don't feel bad for her at all.

Answer 1

I'm glad that you posted this in several places.  I read it one of your other postings and was dissapointed to read that you thought that your writing sucked and that you were going to give up.  (You were responding to another person's critique.)   I felt moved to write you to let you know that as you write (or create any type of art) criticism is part of the package.  Sometimes people will like it, sometimes they won't.  Although sometimes it hurts, the key is to take the pieces of the critique that can help you writing and leave the rest of it.  It is kind of like eating an apple - you eat the fleshy part, but leave the core and seeds behind.

So, while your writing does need editing, that doesn't mean that you suck or that you should stop writing.  On the contrary, I think you should continue.  So you find out that your work needs editing.  Well, all writing needs that.  I was listening to a published author (he's written probably 10 or 15 books) speak about writing a novel.  He compared it to combing matted hair.  You have to brush and brush it, gently and a bit at a time until it becomes untangled.  With writing, you write a few pages the first day.  Then the second day you look over your work, make a couple of light edits, then write a few more pages.  The third day you look over what you wrote on day 2, make a few minor changes, then write more and so on.  After you complete your novel, you go back to the beginning and edit and rewrite until you feel that your work is ready to be published.  (And then of course, an editor will edit it yet again.)  In his example, the first draft of the novel took about 3 months, then 9 months were spent editing.  I'm not saying this has to take that long for you - I just wanted to make you aware that editing and rewriting takes time - sometimes longer than the original draft  - so that you wouldn't beat yourself up about it.

I think, that since you obviously like to write, that you should continue.  I do also think that you have a gift for storytelling - at 13 since you have discovered this, you should continue to work on it.  Continue to do it.  Storytelling can take many different forms - from writing novels, short stories, and scripts for films and television, to journalism, marketing, speechwriting, or teaching.  Stories are everywhere and the ability to tell them is key to many career fields.

Here are some things that I particularly enjoyed about your story:

1. Vivid detail.  I was able to imagine the scene easily because you put a lot of nice details in it.  For example, instead of shoes you said "mary janes" or instead of door k**b "glass doorknob."  Your descriptions are very rich.

2. You capture emotion very well.  I felt the revulsion, impatience, and fear of the main character very clearly.

3. You are good at generating a sense of suspense.  You write in a way that makes the reader want to read more.  I love that you didn't tell everything about the sister in the beginning, but revealed what was happening over time.  You could have said - "I opened the door and crossed the room to feed my sister.  She looked like ... (description)" - it wouldn't have been nearly as effective.  When you write the way that you have, it makes the reader ask questions about what you've written - then you answer them as the story progresses.  Or to put it another way, you keep the readers engaged.

4. I like your "voice" - you were able to maintain the main character very well - I feel as if I know her - a frightened, abused girl who also a little emotionally numb and bewildered.  I think you captured her internal thoughts and emotional state quite well.

While there are a number of areas that can improve your writing, but here is one that you can apply right away.  There are some places where your writing seems to drag.  Either you are repeating information or you are saying one thing but using two or three sentences to do it.   Combining sentences will tighten your writing and give it a little zip.  Here is an example:

"As I reached for the glass door k**b, a tingling feeling shot up my arm and through my whole body.I became stiff and petrified."

SUGGESTION:  "As I reached for the glass doorknob, a tingly feeling shot through my arm, then my whole body, leaving me petrified."

Others might be able to give you some suggestions on other edits.  But I'm writing this primarily to encourage you. You might want to try to ask your English teacher for some tips on how to edit or how to get involved with a teen writing group.  Is there an art or writers center nearby?  You might want to ask your mom or dad if you can get involved in a teen writers group.  The library sometimes sponsors something like this.  Before their books are published, a lot of writers enter their work in literary contests.  There are lots of them, and you might want to consider entering your work in one after you've completed it. Again, ask your teacher or other writers about this - they might have some good ideas for you.

Also, read a lot.   Choose different authors and different genres.  Read what you enjoy.   Reading will help you to improve your writing really quickly because it will help you to expand your vocabulary and will give you an intuitive sense of grammar and sentence structure.  You'll know what feels rights when you are writing - even if you don't know the grammatical rules.   It will also help you with spelling too.

Keep writing!  

C W