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I need feedback on a snippet from a book I'm writing.?

Posted: 31 Aug 2011 11:49 PM PDT

Okay so, 1) Should I continue with it? Is the idea captivating? 2) Is my style easy to understand, but also interesting and thoughtful?

I just need feedback. Critique, compliment, insult, I don't care. Just tell me what you think please! Thanks!

Chapter 1

I hurried along the street as fast as my small legs would take me. My feet padded loudly over the cobblestone streets of my hometown. I lived with my mother and father in the quiet comune of Riole Terme. We'd settled here only a year and a half ago after running all over the world "in search of peace" as my mother would say.

The near pitch black skies were overrun with stars. I couldn't help but stop and admire the magnificent beauty of it. Never before had my mother allowed me to roam the streets of Italy once the sun went down.

Now my mother tugged impatiently on my hand. "Hurry, my dear," she urged. "We must hurry." Despite my age I understood the urgency that clouded my mother's tone. Somehow she sounded as if she might cry.

I averted my gaze from the star-infested skies. Again I could hear the betraying of my footsteps. I'd been through this many times in the past which is why I could understand the need to remain hidden. It's what I'd been doing my entire life.

I glanced around at the surrounding houses. I'd known many of the population of Riole Terme. Many of the young girls had played with me ever since we'd arrived. I'd made many strong bonds here. I'd been told this could be our permanent residence. But now we were leaving.

Suddenly an earsplitting crash erupted from behind me. I jumped at the sound. A startled cry escaped my mother's lips. She turned and in the same movement reached to sweep me into her arms. Tightly she held me as she sped up the pace. I hadn't realized before how slowly we were moving compared to how quickly we could move. Her footfalls were silent, making no sound at all as they struck the cobblestone, unlike my heavy stride. She hugged me close. I could feel the fear in the way her arms tensed and her hands trembled.

The true seriousness of the situation began to weigh upon me more heavily now. I now realized that this would no doubt be the last time I ever looked upon this place. That possibility made me cherish my last moments here. It made me no longer glance at the quickly passing shapes, but now I memorized them.

I was startled to hear what sounded like footsteps behind us- quickly moving, agile footsteps. I nestled myself closer into my mother's neck. Now I was the one trembling. I squeezed her hand as hard as I could. I looked up into her eyes, which were wary. Apparently sensing my gaze, she looked back. It was impossible to speak, but our eyes gave away more than words ever could.

After a moment my mother's attention returned to the task ahead of her. She seemed to be concentrating very hard. I thought I saw something small and gleaming trickle down her cheek once, but I couldn't be sure in the darkness.

It seemed like hours that we were on the move. The trailing footsteps faded into the background, though I was still able to hear them. My heart was gradually slowing to a healthier rhythm, of that I was glad. At six years of age it was especially unhealthy to be under so much stress - or at least, that's what my mother always said whenever I would worry.

I wondered many times who our pursuer might be. I tried to ask my mother, but something about her expression frightened me. I was afraid to distract her, afraid to upset her further. So instead I lay still in her clutch, attempting to lessen her load rather than increase it.

Answer on I need feedback on a snippet from a book I'm writing.?

Natasha,

I did a little editing on a part of your story. It's just something that an editor would do if they were to check out your work for publication. You seem to have a good grasp on the writing part and I'm impressed. Edits are simply a few spelling errors, a bit of punctuation, and a few words taken out. Read your part and then read mine and you'll see where they occur.

I hurried along the street as fast as my small legs would take me. My feet padded loudly over the cobblestone streets of my hometown. I lived with my mother and father in the quiet commune of Riole Terme. We'd settled here only a year and a half ago after running all over the world "in search of peace" as my mother would say.

The pitch black skies were overrun with stars, and I couldn't help but try to stop and admire the magnificent beauty of it. My mother tugged impatiently on my hand. Never before had my mother allowed me to roam the streets of Italy once the sun went down.

Hurry, my dear," she urged. "We must hurry."

Despite my age I understood the urgency that clouded my mother's tone. Somehow she sounded as if she might cry.

I averted my gaze from the star-infested skies. Again, I could hear the betraying of my footsteps. I'd been through this many times in the past, which is why I could understand the need to remain hidden. It's what I'd been doing my entire life.

I glanced around at the surrounding houses. I knew many of the population of Riole Terme. Many of the young girls here played with me ever since we'd arrived. I made many strong bonds here. I'd been told this could be our permanent residence. But now we were leaving.

Natasha, try not to use the 'had' word whenever possible. It's past tense and is often used unnecessarily. I would continue. Yes, it's darn good. Try to do what I did with the rest of your story. Remember that less words in a sentence is better than run-on. As long as you get your point across to the reader it will get you attention in your writing.

Good luck!

PJ M

Pakatan Rakyat

Khamis, 1 September 2011

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