atbaron
Accidental Hero
I otter be writing.
Posts: 33 
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Post by atbaron on Jul 13, 2022 11:03:58 GMT -5
Thanks for reading my work. This MS is a blend of CURSED x ZOEY'S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST and deals with mental disability. Menagerie Mind
Chapter 1
Contemplating Communicating How do I tell people about summer break when summer broke my brain? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn’t ready. I glanced at the bulletin board above my desk. Four high school freshmen smiled at me from last year's spring dance photo among the various post-it notes, inspirational chocolate wrappers, and a dehydrated daisy chain. Although I was sure rumors spread about my stroke over the summer, my three close friends were the only ones that knew the whole story. A story that I struggled to tell. The blood clot that interrupted my math exam last May stole my ability to speak and use the right side of my body. After months of hospitalization and therapy, I was able to walk and grasp items almost like I used to, but forming words was a chore. I could see the words in my mind and practically feel them in my mouth. What came out was gibberish at best. Like the staccato rhythm of the crickets outside my bedroom window, my damaged brain cried out, hoping someone would hear me. Understand me. I couldn’t even say the name of my condition—Broca’s Aphasia. The syllables of my affliction caught on my tongue. It might as well have been called pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. You’d have to take a deep breath before saying that one—unless you had the disease. According to my speech therapist, Dr. Klein—well, she let me call her Jen—I had made significant progress and could return to school, but I questioned if I was ready. At least I was out of the hospital. I hated being cooped up in that dank place with revolving roommates. Someone would come in sick or from surgery and recover before I could order my next meal while I lay wasting away my summer. The poking and prodding by the nurses were just as bad, but the worst part was all the scans. The doctors stuck me in every machine imaginable, trying to determine what happened to me and why. Since they couldn’t pin down the cause of the stroke, everyone kept a watchful worrying eye on me. The crickets continued their chirping while I braided my unruly hair for school. I was eager to be with my friends, especially Greg. Between recovery, rehab, and preparing for school, Greg and I didn’t get many chances to see each other. He was always busy working for his dad, and as the summer marched on without me, I saw him less and less. But today gave us a chance to be together again. I clutched my long ginger braid and brushed it over my lips. Maybe things will be easier if he’s there with me. I plucked my phone from my pocket and tapped a message to him, “Can’t wait to see you.” It was a million times easier to message him than speak. Jen would have scolded me |
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Post by ikmar on Jul 14, 2022 18:40:49 GMT -5
Hi A.T. I use prologues too so I may be being a bit of a hypocrite here, but... The start of this prologue is very much a slice of life. Even if it marks the MC's stroke, I'm not sure it's the right kind of start. I assume you are showing her healthy in the prologue and the book is her dealing with the aftermath. But there's not enough to draw me in here. There are lots of postings about when to use or not use prologues. One is here: self-publishingschool.com/prologue/The key is that it should read like a short story, with a quick hook and then to the event. The pacing/structure here is not that. Remember the first line of a prolog has to grab the reader as much as the first line of chapter 1. Does "All I had to do was take one last exam, and I could enjoy my summer break." seem unique? Or intriguing? The short sentences and simple wording makes this read like an MG too. It only has a Flesch-Kincaid level of 3.2. Great for Hi-Lo, but I don't think that's what you're aiming for. |
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Post by RebeccaJ_Allen on Jul 14, 2022 19:15:12 GMT -5
I have to agree. This isn't pulling me in fast enough. You need either a problem, a conflict, or a goal for the MC to overcome, or more than one of the above. An exam (that they aren't that focused on enough b/c they're hanging with their boyfriend) isn't enough.
Consider cutting the prologue and going straight to the first chapter.
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atbaron
Accidental Hero
I otter be writing.
Posts: 33
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Post by atbaron on Jul 15, 2022 12:12:41 GMT -5
ikmar , Thanks for the link. Another author suggested a prologue to get a different perspective before jumping in. I'm not a fan of them myself. Both you and @rebeccaj_Allen have cemented my preference of not using it. My Chapter 1 starts with "𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn't ready." I believe this is a much better place to start with the story. I don't think I can replace my original post with my first chapter unless you and others are more interested in seeing that.
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Post by britstanford on Jul 15, 2022 14:15:21 GMT -5
ikmar , Thanks for the link. Another author suggested a prologue to get a different perspective before jumping in. I'm not a fan of them myself. Both you and @rebeccaj_Allen have cemented my preference of not using it. My Chapter 1 starts with "𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn't ready." I believe this is a much better place to start with the story. I don't think I can replace my original post with my first chapter unless you and others are more interested in seeing that. Your Chapter 1 sounds good! I'd just replace this post with your new Chapter 1 post. I think that sounds like a much better place to start, even if you want to have a flashback to when she actually has her stroke. |
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Post by ikmar on Jul 15, 2022 15:00:30 GMT -5
You can ask the moderators to delete the thread and make a new post. Or edit your initial post put in a note to tell the reader to jump to post #6 (or wherever you post the start to chapter 1)
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atbaron
Accidental Hero
I otter be writing.
Posts: 33
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Post by atbaron on Jul 15, 2022 15:09:49 GMT -5
Okay, Updated version (much better in my opinion). Thank you, britstanford and ikmar , for your patience and understanding. |
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Post by hannahgreer on Jul 15, 2022 22:50:00 GMT -5
Thanks for reading my work. This MS is a blend of CURSED x ZOEY'S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST and deals with mental disability. Menagerie Mind
Chapter 1
Contemplating Communicating How do I tell people about summer break when summer broke my brain? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn’t ready.
The first sentence sounds super interesting and hooks me right in! But I lost my momentum a bit during the second sentence. It may be that the tense sounds odd. Today indicates the present, and the rest of the sentence is in past. Perhaps something like "It was the first day of my sophomore year...." would sound smoother.
I glanced at the bulletin board above my desk. Four high school freshmen smiled at me from last year's spring dance photo among the various post-it notes, inspirational chocolate wrappers, and a dehydrated daisy chain. Although I was sure rumors spread about my stroke over the summer, my three close friends were the only ones that knew the whole story. A story that I struggled to tell. The blood clot that interrupted my math exam last May stole my ability to speak and use the right side of my body. After months of hospitalization and therapy, I was able to walk and grasp items almost like I used to, but forming words was a chore. I could see the words in my mind and practically feel them in my mouth. What came out was gibberish at best. Wow, that does sound super traumatic! Do teachers know? I feel like they would have to, and students might know if they do.Like the staccato rhythm of the crickets outside my bedroom window, my damaged brain cried out, hoping someone would hear me. Understand me. I couldn’t even say the name of my condition—Broca’s Aphasia. The syllables of my affliction caught on my tongue. It might as well have been called pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. You’d have to take a deep breath before saying that one—unless you had the disease. According to my speech therapist, Dr. Klein—well, she let me call her Jen—I had made significant progress and could return to school, but I questioned if I was ready. At least I was out of the hospital. I hated being cooped up in that dank place with revolving roommates. Someone would come in sick or from surgery and recover before I could order my next meal while I lay wasting away my summer.
This sounds like two different sentences that get across the same message. I would either say, 'before I could order my next meal' or 'while I lay wasting away my summer'.The poking and prodding by the nurses were just as bad, but the worst part was all the scans. The doctors stuck me in every machine imaginable, trying to determine what happened to me and why. Since they couldn’t pin down the cause of the stroke, everyone kept a watchful worrying eye on me. The crickets continued their chirping while I braided my unruly hair for school. I was eager to be with my friends, especially Greg. What time of day is it if the crickets are chirping? I thought she was about to go to school?Between recovery, rehab, and preparing for school, Greg and I didn’t get many chances to see each other. He was always busy working for his dad, and as the summer marched on without me, I saw him less and less. But today gave us a chance to be together again. I clutched my long ginger braid and brushed it over my lips. Maybe things will be easier if he’s there with me. Aww cuteI plucked my phone from my pocket and tapped a message to him, “Can’t wait to see you.” It was a million times easier to message him than speak. Jen would have scolded me. It seems like your have an interesting character here! I'm curious how they will develop as the story continues. One place I was a little lost was where the MC was. I spent a lot of the beginning thinking she was at school since she was at a desk. I believe some more details/description about her bedroom(I assume?) would help ground the reader where your MC is. It also feels like you spent a lot of time going over the events prior to the story, which made this beginning feel like there was a lot of info dumping. I think you could weave a lot of this information in through dialogue or trickle it in more slowly as the chapter progresses. Overall, I think you have an exciting, character-driven story! |
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Post by christinaf on Jul 16, 2022 15:02:21 GMT -5
Thanks for reading my work. This MS is a blend of CURSED x ZOEY'S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST and deals with mental disability. Menagerie Mind
Chapter 1
Contemplating Communicating How do I tell people about summer break when summer broke my brain? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn’t ready. Maybe you could add more voice to this if you rephrase a bit? Example: I stood at my desk, fingers gripping around the stack of fresh binders that Mom had gotten for me. Sophomore year hadn't seemed intimidating after making it through freshman year, but that was before. I ease my grip off the binders only to knock all the pencils and pens off the table with my too-jerky movements. I almost don't want to even pick them up. Before, it would have been easy, but now...now everything is harder. And I'm not ready. I glanced at the bulletin board above my desk. Four high school freshmen smiled at me from last year's spring dance photo among the various post-it notes, inspirational chocolate wrappers, and a dehydrated daisy chain. Although I was sure rumors spread about my stroke over the summer, my three close friends were the only ones that knew the whole story. A story that I struggled to tell. The blood clot that interrupted my math exam last May stole my ability to speak and use the right side of my body. After months of hospitalization and therapy, I was able to walk and grasp items almost like I used to, but forming words was a chore. I could see the words in my mind and practically feel them in my mouth. What came out was gibberish at best. Like the staccato rhythm of the crickets outside my bedroom window, my damaged brain cried out, hoping someone would hear me. Understand me. I couldn’t even say the name of my condition—Broca’s Aphasia. The syllables of my affliction caught on my tongue. It might as well have been called pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. You’d have to take a deep breath before saying that one—unless you had the disease. According to my speech therapist, Dr. Klein—well, she let me call her Jen—I had made significant progress and could return to school, but I questioned if I was ready. At least I was out of the hospital. I hated being cooped up in that dank place with revolving roommates. Someone would come in sick or from surgery and recover before I could order my next meal while I lay wasting away my summer. The poking and prodding by the nurses were just as bad, but the worst part was all the scans. The doctors stuck me in every machine imaginable, trying to determine what happened to me and why. Since they couldn’t pin down the cause of the stroke, everyone kept a watchful , worrying eye on me. The crickets continued their chirping while I braided my unruly hair for school. I was eager to be with my friends, especially Greg. Between recovery, rehab, and preparing for school, Greg and I didn’t get (hadn't gotten??) many chances to see each other. He was always busy working for his dad, and as the summer marched on without me, I saw him less and less. But today gave us a chance to be together again. I clutched my long ginger braid and brushed it over my lips. Maybe things will be easier if he’s there with me. I plucked my phone from my pocket and tapped a message to him, “Can’t wait to see you.” It was a million times easier to message him than speak. Jen would have scolded me Overall this is a good opening with the intrigue of her stroke and how it will/is affecting her, but I think you could maybe add a bit more actionable movements & emotions through them (like I gave an example in the beginning) to draw the reader in even more. Just my thoughts. Feel free to ignore or not! Good luck with this! |
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atbaron
Accidental Hero
I otter be writing.
Posts: 33
|
Post by atbaron on Jul 18, 2022 10:41:44 GMT -5
Thanks for reading my work. This MS is a blend of CURSED x ZOEY'S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST and deals with mental disability. Menagerie Mind
Chapter 1
Contemplating Communicating How do I tell people about summer break when summer broke my brain? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn’t ready.
The first sentence sounds super interesting and hooks me right in! But I lost my momentum a bit during the second sentence. It may be that the tense sounds odd. Today indicates the present, and the rest of the sentence is in past. Perhaps something like "It was the first day of my sophomore year...." would sound smoother.
I glanced at the bulletin board above my desk. Four high school freshmen smiled at me from last year's spring dance photo among the various post-it notes, inspirational chocolate wrappers, and a dehydrated daisy chain. Although I was sure rumors spread about my stroke over the summer, my three close friends were the only ones that knew the whole story. A story that I struggled to tell. The blood clot that interrupted my math exam last May stole my ability to speak and use the right side of my body. After months of hospitalization and therapy, I was able to walk and grasp items almost like I used to, but forming words was a chore. I could see the words in my mind and practically feel them in my mouth. What came out was gibberish at best. Wow, that does sound super traumatic! Do teachers know? I feel like they would have to, and students might know if they do.Like the staccato rhythm of the crickets outside my bedroom window, my damaged brain cried out, hoping someone would hear me. Understand me. I couldn’t even say the name of my condition—Broca’s Aphasia. The syllables of my affliction caught on my tongue. It might as well have been called pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. You’d have to take a deep breath before saying that one—unless you had the disease. According to my speech therapist, Dr. Klein—well, she let me call her Jen—I had made significant progress and could return to school, but I questioned if I was ready. At least I was out of the hospital. I hated being cooped up in that dank place with revolving roommates. Someone would come in sick or from surgery and recover before I could order my next meal while I lay wasting away my summer.
This sounds like two different sentences that get across the same message. I would either say, 'before I could order my next meal' or 'while I lay wasting away my summer'.The poking and prodding by the nurses were just as bad, but the worst part was all the scans. The doctors stuck me in every machine imaginable, trying to determine what happened to me and why. Since they couldn’t pin down the cause of the stroke, everyone kept a watchful worrying eye on me. The crickets continued their chirping while I braided my unruly hair for school. I was eager to be with my friends, especially Greg. What time of day is it if the crickets are chirping? I thought she was about to go to school?Between recovery, rehab, and preparing for school, Greg and I didn’t get many chances to see each other. He was always busy working for his dad, and as the summer marched on without me, I saw him less and less. But today gave us a chance to be together again. I clutched my long ginger braid and brushed it over my lips. Maybe things will be easier if he’s there with me. Aww cuteI plucked my phone from my pocket and tapped a message to him, “Can’t wait to see you.” It was a million times easier to message him than speak. Jen would have scolded me. It seems like your have an interesting character here! I'm curious how they will develop as the story continues. One place I was a little lost was where the MC was. I spent a lot of the beginning thinking she was at school since she was at a desk. I believe some more details/description about her bedroom(I assume?) would help ground the reader where your MC is. It also feels like you spent a lot of time going over the events prior to the story, which made this beginning feel like there was a lot of info dumping. I think you could weave a lot of this information in through dialogue or trickle it in more slowly as the chapter progresses. Overall, I think you have an exciting, character-driven story! , Thank you for your suggestions. I agree with your suggestion of improving the first paragraph. The tense is off. I will definitely improve the clarity of the hospital concerns. Breaking it up into separate statements will also improve readability. Oh, and crickets will chirp at all times of the day. But in this case, it is early morning, and there aren't a lot of other noises to drown them out. |
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atbaron
Accidental Hero
I otter be writing.
Posts: 33
|
Post by atbaron on Jul 18, 2022 10:45:00 GMT -5
Thanks for reading my work. This MS is a blend of CURSED x ZOEY'S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST and deals with mental disability. Menagerie Mind
Chapter 1
Contemplating Communicating How do I tell people about summer break when summer broke my brain? Today was the first day of my sophomore year, and I stood at my desk, pondering the stack of binders and supplies. I wasn’t ready. Maybe you could add more voice to this if you rephrase a bit? Example: I stood at my desk, fingers gripping around the stack of fresh binders that Mom had gotten for me. Sophomore year hadn't seemed intimidating after making it through freshman year, but that was before. I ease my grip off the binders only to knock all the pencils and pens off the table with my too-jerky movements. I almost don't want to even pick them up. Before, it would have been easy, but now...now everything is harder. And I'm not ready. I glanced at the bulletin board above my desk. Four high school freshmen smiled at me from last year's spring dance photo among the various post-it notes, inspirational chocolate wrappers, and a dehydrated daisy chain. Although I was sure rumors spread about my stroke over the summer, my three close friends were the only ones that knew the whole story. A story that I struggled to tell. The blood clot that interrupted my math exam last May stole my ability to speak and use the right side of my body. After months of hospitalization and therapy, I was able to walk and grasp items almost like I used to, but forming words was a chore. I could see the words in my mind and practically feel them in my mouth. What came out was gibberish at best. Like the staccato rhythm of the crickets outside my bedroom window, my damaged brain cried out, hoping someone would hear me. Understand me. I couldn’t even say the name of my condition—Broca’s Aphasia. The syllables of my affliction caught on my tongue. It might as well have been called pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. You’d have to take a deep breath before saying that one—unless you had the disease. According to my speech therapist, Dr. Klein—well, she let me call her Jen—I had made significant progress and could return to school, but I questioned if I was ready. At least I was out of the hospital. I hated being cooped up in that dank place with revolving roommates. Someone would come in sick or from surgery and recover before I could order my next meal while I lay wasting away my summer. The poking and prodding by the nurses were just as bad, but the worst part was all the scans. The doctors stuck me in every machine imaginable, trying to determine what happened to me and why. Since they couldn’t pin down the cause of the stroke, everyone kept a watchful , worrying eye on me. The crickets continued their chirping while I braided my unruly hair for school. I was eager to be with my friends, especially Greg. Between recovery, rehab, and preparing for school, Greg and I didn’t get (hadn't gotten??) many chances to see each other. He was always busy working for his dad, and as the summer marched on without me, I saw him less and less. But today gave us a chance to be together again. I clutched my long ginger braid and brushed it over my lips. Maybe things will be easier if he’s there with me. I plucked my phone from my pocket and tapped a message to him, “Can’t wait to see you.” It was a million times easier to message him than speak. Jen would have scolded me Overall this is a good opening with the intrigue of her stroke and how it will/is affecting her, but I think you could maybe add a bit more actionable movements & emotions through them (like I gave an example in the beginning) to draw the reader in even more. Just my thoughts. Feel free to ignore or not! Good luck with this!, I love the idea of adding a more actionable moment to the beginning. More do appear after the first 500 words, but they could help snag that reader faster if right at the start. Thanks for that suggestion! |
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