Critique help

So I ran into another contest the other day which opens July 12, and it is for the first 250 words of your manuscript. You are supposed to have a finished manuscript finished to enter. I'm not sure I will be done in time, but I am not exactly counting on winning so I am not sure it matters. Anyway, here are all the submission guidelines if anyone else is interested.


If anyone has a minute, can you look at my first 250 words? Contest, or not, I think the first page is critical, so I would appreciate any feedback. THANKS!!

Genre: YA paranormal
Title: Lost and Found

Her mother was insane. Completely, totally, and should be institutionalized no questions asked. Because only if she were Glinda the Good Witch of the North, then the dress she was currently and unsuccessfully zipping up in the back could be considered in any way warranted. But as she was just an average sixteen year old with absolutely no intention of going to junior prom...

"Nonsense dear. Everyone goes to prom. And you're sadly mistaken if you think pink hair is normal."

Oops, she'd said that out loud. Ellie yanked on the zipper again but didn't have the leverage to get it the rest of the way up. Oh how she couldn't wait to get out of this store. The musty smell of used, unwashed clothing turned her stomach. Not that she didn't appreciate vintage, she did. But this particular store would have been more appropriately named Grandma's Underwear Drawer.

"It doesn't fit. Can we go now?"

"Wait, come out and let me see it."

Ellie held the back of the white satin together with her left hand and opened the peeling dressing room door with the other. She was greeted with a gasp and jaw drop so large she was sure she could fit a Big Mac into it. There was a reason her dad gave her mother a keychain for Christmas last year that flashed Drama Queen in pink lights.

Nathan Bransford Action/Suspense contest

So I don't check Nathan Bransford's blog regularly, but every once in a while I do (like today), and while I was reading all the past posts I've missed over the past few months, I saw that he was holding another contest and the deadline was today (4 p.m. Pacific Time). It's a 500 words or less action/chase/suspense scene contest. I think I've mentioned before I like contests. It's not because I think I will win, or sometimes even can win, but I feel like there is nothing lost in trying and it gives me experience. There is a motivation to perform at your best. I just wish I had had more time to prepare something and to have all you lovely ladies critique it for me. Anyway, I thought I'd go ahead and post it here for fun. It's from my WIP that I am keeping track of on the sidebar. I'd love to hear what you think.

An unhurried scrape dragged along the far wall. Ellie’s chest constricted. Stay calm. It’s nothing, just a really old building. She dropped in front of the door.

“911. What is your emergency?”

The scraping stopped. Her heart thudded irregularly in her chest.

“My name is Eliza Brown.”

“Excuse me, could you speak louder?”

“Eliza Brown. I’m at the Treasure Bin on Main. The power is out. No one is here and I am locked in.” She didn’t want to say she heard footsteps and strange noises. “Please, can you send someone?”

“The police are on their way. Please stay on the line and remain calm.”

Ellie nodded. Her tongue lay weighted, attached to the orange-sized rock that seemed to block the flow of air through her throat. The scratching resumed. She gripped the phone tightly with a sweaty palm. Then her phone beeped and its light dimmed.

No, no, no.

The phone beeped twice in a row. Low battery flashed on the screen. “My phone is going to…” Then it went dead.

She kicked herself for not charging the battery earlier like a “responsible young adult.” Her mother’s voice was very clear in her head. Something moved and it fluttered the stray hairs around her face.

“Hello, Eliza.” It was no more than a whisper, but it was clear and distinct and very, very close.

Dropping onto her hands and knees she scrambled toward where she thought the front counter was. Swish, swish, swish echoed the dress. Traitor. I knew you were bad luck. Her face met with several musty smelling, low-hanging garments. She dropped her head and plowed through, eventually banging her skull into the edge of the glass. In the silence, it sounded like a small explosion. She leaned back onto her heels, holding her head with her free hand, and then stood up.

It’s all in my imagination. The police or fire department or even the sheriff. They are coming. Any minute. Both the fire department and police station were only a few blocks away. If she could get out, she could run there.

It loped across the room knocking over several racks of clothing. She screeched and dove head first over the top of the counter. The bottom of her dress caught and didn’t release. She hung suspended above the ground. Her fingers brushed the floor. Her head was just a few feet from smacking into the linoleum. It’d caught the end of the train. She kicked air and clawed at the floor. The momentum she gained was rewarded with the sound of tearing fabric. She somersaulted over the counter. The dress flipped up over her head and fell like a parachute on top of her. The ground smashed into her tail bone.

*SOMETHING ROMANTIC*

*SOMETHING ROMANTIC* replaces what should be actual, brilliant words in my manuscript. The main character receives a message from the love of her life just after she learns that he has sacrificed himself and is now dead or dying. Hee hee, it's probably not as melodramatic as that sounds, but anyway... So um...what would that message say? I think it would be hilarious and fun to see what everybody thinks and can come up with. Enough entries and we can name a *SOMETHING ROMANTIC* One Page A Day winner and give them all sorts of virtual bragging rights.

Thanks you guys!!!

Life of its Own

Ok, so I had to take a week or two off of writing because of crazy sick kiddos at home, but now I am back and I plan on getting my first draft done sometime this year. The problem is, the story has taken on a life of its own. I'm not a huge planner, but I did have the ending planned out. I knew where the story was going. Now that I am getting to the critical moments, the story wants to change directions. I think subconsciously I like to be entertained as I am writing, and I cannot handle a predictable story, movie etc. So now my brain is throwing in huge twists more for my benefit than the reader, since the reader didn't know how it would end but I did. So what do you all think, better to have a SOLID story or better to go with your imagination?

Middle of the Book Doldrums

So as I was sitting in the waiting area of my daughters' dance studio, waiting for their lesson to finish, I pulled out this tiny little notebook and continued to work on my novel. I filled page after page no problem and was very excited about my progress...until I typed it up at home and it turned out to be about 1/2 page. Ha ha. Anyway, I am having the middle of the book doldrums. I am at the place where I don't know what else is supposed to happen and continue to be exciting for another 15,000 words and still be relevant to the main plot and building up toward the climax.

Have you ever been there? Any suggestions for getting through it?

Question

I was just wondering, when you guys are counting pages, are you counting double spaced or single spaced? I know there are no rules and it doesn't matter. I'm just trying to judge how ridiculously far behind I am :).

How do you write?

I am thinking about starting a new novel and letting the one I am halfway through with sit for a while. The idea for the book has been stewing in my brain for a while, and I am excited about it. However, when I actually sit down to write it...nothing comes. That's because what I want to write about is IN THE MIDDLE of the story. Writing a beginning bores me. And if it bores me to write it, isn't it logical to think that it will also bore people to read it?

What do you do? Do you start at the beginning and faithfully make it from start to finish? Do you write scenes from the middle and then go back and put on the beginning and the end and anything else missing? Do you say, heck, forget the beginning...who needs a beginning?

I'd love to hear some thoughts.

Today's page

4 kids and a gigantic 45 lb puppy almost kept me from doing anything today, but I prevailed and got about 1/2 page done (1 page if it's double spaced). Everything is in its first draft form, although that doesn't necessarily equate to rough draft, you know? I thought it'd be fun to post this random segment.

BTW, if we get any random stalker people who don't know already, all the work published here is the copyright of the original authors. :)

“This is going to work. Don’t worry,” Taul said again. He grinned and winked at Ari conspiratorially. From the second she’d approached him, Taul had been on board and completely confident in the plan.

She’d given up hope for it ages ago.

A miserable shrug was the only response she could muster. Uncomfortable, Ari tugged on her hair until she realized she was loosening the curls that’d taken most of the day to set. Digging the toe of her shoe into the ground, chewing her lip, and wiping sweaty palms on her new gown all had similarly destructive results to the look five maidservants had worked for hours and hours on achieving for tonight. On impulse Ari slipped her hand into Taul’s. Inside of Tual’s it was safe from causing any more damage. A loud, scuffling noise startled her and she squeezed Taul’s hand hard. He yelped out an incoherent objection.

Sudden heat colored Ari’s cheeks. “Sorry.” She loosened her grip to let go, but Taul didn’t release her hand. If Ari’s stomach weren’t turning over and over like the wheel of a moving applecart, she might have realized how nice it was to hold Taul’s hand.

The sound of dull scraping combined with a high-pitched squeak alerted her to Adam’s presence. Simultaneously they dropped each other’s hands.