Is it book quality? Would you read it?

Hello My name is Taylor and I am 18 and was wondering if you would read my story and tell me if you think it is book worthy! And if you would read a book that started with this?Oh yes it does have paragraphs it was pasted and wouldnt show them sorry! Please and Thank you for your time-

It was as if I was watching pieces of my soul hit the window, each thud leaving a permanent scar on my heart. Feeling my heart disintegrate watching I focus on something else, the room. Eyes still full of tears and the fact that my head was filled with mixed thoughts made it almost impossible to concentrate. Wait I was on the floor the cold hard... wet floor, why was the floor wet? Feeling around on the ground, ouch I had cut my hand on a broken glass that apparently was full of water hmm must have knocked it over. Turning back to the window I looked up and down and realized this was a floor to ceiling window. Not sure if I could stand up I put a little pressure on the window to help. My legs were a little shaky but it was okay. Glancing down I noticed that I was wearing my night clothes. How odd. There wasn't enough light coming through the storm in fact the entire night sky was black except when a few stars shone through out the room to see where I was. Glancing out the window again I looked down and to my surprise it looked like I was miles above ground in reality it was probably only forty-five to fifty feet. There... There... There are only two floors in my house this can't be my house. Wait why was I crying, why do I feel so empty, where am I at?

Breathe, inhale exhale, in through the nose out through the mouth I have to focus and be on guard. Not being able to really see I took two steps to the left and gently felt the floor to make sure there wasn't any glass before I got on all fours. I figured crawling would be the safest way to move around in my condition.

Slowly moving farther to the left staying close to the wall which was oddly soft I his another wall or what I thought to be a wall. When all of the sudden a large object landed on my already cut hand. Yelping quietly to myself I tried to focus on something other then the pain, what dad hit me? Feeling it carefully I knew this object. It was a book, why was a book on a wall? Then it clicked and I looked up and saw this book shelf that stretched to what I assumed was the ceiling. Bewildered I continued to crawl leaving the book behind. After hitting a chair, then later a desk, and crawling for what seemed like days I went to put my hand forward but the floor was soft and...Unstable! Pushing the floor down a couple inches it hit something hard. I felt around on the hard floor and felt what seemed like a chain and, and a knob a door knob. This must be some sort of secret trap. I've got to get to that knob.

Pushing the soft floor made it move, what kind of soft floor moves, carpet, no... no a RUG, a rug moves! Feeling around the rug I push it to the right until I could touch the reach down and touch the knob. In fear I looked around still incapable of seeing, I gently twisted the knob, pushed, and held on until it hung down. I found it I found the exit. There was a dim light underneath me in what looked like the end of a hallway. Moving quickly I put my ear down towards the hallway as if I were expecting to hear voices.

Maybe this is a dream, or an abandoned house, or a joke my friends are playing. That's right I have friends, I wonder if they know where I am. Listening again it was dead silent except for the rapid thuds on the window. Maybe it's not the safest idea but I need to get down and the chain seems securely in place and I am not that heavy. If it doesn't reach all the way down it can't be too far of a drop. I could feel the pounding of my heart all over my body and adrenaline kicked in. Letting myself down was more difficult than I had imagined seeing as my arm strength ranged from zero to none. I reached the end of the shorter than I wished chain and my palms were wet with sweat causing me to fall with a thud. Immediately standing up and pushing myself up against the wall allowed me to calm down to an extent. Looking left, right, and left again as if I were about to cross a street it became obvious I was in a hallway, a very dim lit one at that. There were two doors on each side of the hallway and one at the end of the hallway to the right but I couldn't see anything to the right. It all looked vaguely familiar. Sliding to the left I had reached a door, but passed by to the next one and listened carefully for any noise but there wasn't a sound. I gently turned the knob and slightly opened the door peeking my head around as if I were some sort of top secret agent. My heart sink it was as if I was expecting some glorious room but form what I could see with such little night sky coming in was an almost barren room.

The floor was soft it was like stepping on a cloud. Shutting myself in I glanced around and on the wall under the window was a bed. This wasn't a usual bed something was different it had a beautiful dust ruffle that resembled a silky dress. No blankets, that's strange, and then it hit me like a wave. I could barely keep my eyes open. So I grabbed the smallest pillow on the bed, hoping no one would notice it being gone if they were to look in, lifted up the dust ruffle and scooted my body under the bed. Before putting the ruffle down I took one last look at the room if it could even be called a room. Aside from the bed all that was there was a white dresser by the door and an open closet door revealing a dark empty space and a full length mirror. Staring at the face looking back at me I noticed something; I have a blood spot on my left cheek. I tried to move but my body was too drained to move. Lying there immobilized all I could do was think, Thinking how can I sleep when I don't even know where I am, how I got here, heck I don't even know my own name! My eyes eventually gave up and I drifted into a deep slumber.

*It felt as if I had slept for centuries and when I woke up I looked around and listened but it was still and quiet. After getting out from underneath the bed I looked out the window saw the sun creeping around behind the grey shifting clouds. Still feeling groggy I sat down on the bed not a single noise, that's new my bed always creaks. Resting my hands in my lap I looked down and saw my cut, ha it was nothing but a mere scratch but it sure hurt when that book hit it. The window, the glass, the book, the trap door, the chain, the hallway, what happened last night? The air had a dense smell to it, the room smelled; I know that smell, where have I smelt that ALICE, that is her perfume. Where is my best friend when I need her? She is always here when I need her!

Focus where am I? There aren't any spider webs, layers of dust, or markings of any kind in the room; someone must have recently left or escaped I want to escape from this place as well. Standing up made me feel as my knees were going to buckle but that feeling left as soon as I looked in the mirror and saw the blood spot on my cheek. Looking closer I realized it was as if someone had kissed me with blood as lipstick and it smeared. Looking at the mirror once more I turned away, Needing to get out of the room and wash my face I got the courage to walk to the door, took a deep breathe and turned the handle, opened the door and shut it quietly as not to be heard by anyone listening. Bathroom, I need a bathroom where is the bathroom? Walking with grace I went to the door at the end of the hallway and with out listening opened the door to find a bathroom. What a messy bathroom you could hardly find the toilet let alone the sink, the counter was underneath a plethora of women's products ranging from make-up to a cute pink soap dispenser. The sound of the water running, why am I in a bath tub, that was so weird why did I just see myself in a bathtub with running water flowing down over the sides. After washing my face I washed my hands and right next the soap was a clock that read 12:35 Sunday. It's noon on Sunday that is a start. Stepping back out into the hallway she looked straight and saw windows, floor to ceiling windows. It was as if time stood still except for her nothing in the house moved or made a single noise. No one is home if someone does live here maybe I should take a look around in case there is something that will tell me where I am at or more importantly how I got here. Grumble Grumble Grumble there must be a volcano in my stomach or I am really hungry, maybe I should start with the kitchen. Standing at the end of the hallway past all the doors and the sight I saw was so beautiful but so familiar. Out past the large windows was a lake. Watching the ripples reach the end of the lake made me cry, it was like a deja vu I couldn't see but I could still feel. There was a dock but no boat. The great majestic trees swayed with the wind towards the house. I looked to my right and saw a few couches and a small coffee table. Shifting my eyes to the left I saw stairs. I was upstairs maybe there is someone down stairs I should be careful. Lightly stepping from step to step down the stairs that go straight down I get to the bottom and peer out into, once again, an empty space but there was something different about this kind of empty. It was an empty that wasn't perfectly untouched empty. The down stairs was one room divided into sections, the kitchen which had and empty pizza box on the counter, a living room with couches, a recliner, coffee tables, an open book, floor lamps, a fire place made out of red bricks, carpet that was off-white with a rug in the middle. The RUG, I am still in someone else's house. I ran into the kitchen to grab something to eat out of the refrigerator, that...that...that's me, why am I on the fridge and who on earth am I with. How creepy is this, I wake up in some persons house that I somewhat remember not only that but my picture is on the refrigerator. N'Cole was written across the fridge door in magnet letters, I wonder who N'Cole is. Opening the refrigerator door revealed empty shelves with only two pop cans and string cheese. Well string cheese and pop will have to do; I do like to peel the string cheese. No T.V. how odd every house has a television. Resting my rump sure did feel good, but when I went to put my feet on the table, shame shame mother always told me it wasn't polite, I saw a letter, a letter addressed to YOU. Who was you? Maybe YOU was a him or a her, wait I am a YOU, it couldn't hurt to take a peek. I have always been skilled at the art of snooping, back in the day when I was younger mom and dad would try to hide things from me like a surprise birthday but the surprise was always on them. I remember one time when I was turning sixteen and way caught up in the having to look pretty all the time, they thought it would be funny to throw me a surprise birthday party so I would be unprepared and finally prove to me that my friends don't care what I look like, ha! I showed up in a new outfit, hair done, and looking radiant. I mean if you are going to throw me a party don't discuss it anywhere near me or my house, and be on watch at all times. Sometimes my parents would ask me if I had another set of eyes and hears hidden somewhere, it was always so funny to me.

After shortly finishing my snack I shoved my wrapper into my empty pop can wiped my hands on my pants and snatched the letter from the table and held it in my hands for a couple minutes. Time may be slipping away faster than I want until someone comes home. I need to read the letter. Turning the white envelope over I begin to get ready to slide my finger under the flap to open it but it was already open, well they will never know I read it then, huh! After pulling the paper out ever so gently I looked at the folded sheet of paper as if I was holding a secret to life. Opening the letter I stared at it blankly for a few moments before remembering what I was doing, but the paper was so captivating and elegant. It was if the paper was a scroll that had been folded, the edge of the paper had a thin gold trim, and towards the end there was a tiny gold star with a tattered cross next to it.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

You have a good hook and a really good way with words. That is perhaps one of the best first lines I've read in ages. It makes me breathless. It is SUPER good.

That being said, after the first line, you begin to falter. As one moves down the page (and I only read the first paragraph) You begin to trip. You make a classic new writer mistake of letting the words getin your way, you have no confidence in your voice but instead, rely on the words and It's nice to be flowery, it's more important to be clear. You need to reword a few sentances. You need to re-read what you wrote - some of your sentances are awkward.

However, your making pro mistakes here, not amateur ones. Take a creative writing class - and actually, you need Clarion Workshops. You will hear a lot of writers whine and howl about Clarion - how awful it is, how terribly it is, how it destroys good writers. I've never met a bad writer who took a Clarion workshop, but I have met a lot of published ones. :) I Asked a friend her aopinion of Robert McKee - a screen writing teacher and that I had his book but wondered if it was good becauseI'd heard how everyone I'd heard bashed him, called him a hack and said he hadn't published a lot of his own work. and she said "Yes, people say that, but everyone has taken his classes - everyone reads his books".

Same with Clarion. It's pricey, but worth it. You will learn so much about the craft.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

Been brutally honest, amd not geting paid to read your Message, but if you really want to know, you shoul dget an editor in your local publisher some don't charge you until you get the book publish. I f you are unsure where to go, run a yahoo search, or google search on your local editorial, publisher or naything like that, I got a bit bored reading, maybe if you e-mail I will print it and read on my way to work.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

i like it, im 15 heres the begining of my first short story, written when i wad 12

It was a cold day, the wind was howling and the rain was persistant. James walked slowly upon the beaten track, determination overiding his other feelings. The wind was swaying him from side to side so much so that he had almost undertaken a state of dizzyness. He hand cluched his collar as he gaurded hmself from the icey rain. His vision was impared by the rain water flooding his eyes making it almost impossible for him to remain stable on the road. The terrible weather had turned the normally dry mud path that lay ahead of him into a sea of brown mess that nobody in their right mind would set foot in.

James, although in his right mind, had no chioce he was far from shelter and the only inn for miles lay through this goey mess. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he walk across the grass but the surface was far from impermeable and a single step into it would leave him strugling in the murky depth that the rain had created. His eyes, like those of an eagle, were fixed upon the flickering logh of the inn window.

He, after many minutes of unforgettable stuggling, made to the strong oak door of the inn which ,although heavy in mass, rocked in the wind. He raised his shivering hand to this neck level and delivered a sound knock to the door which unsettled the inhabitants of the inn.

The inn keeper came to the door instantaneously holding the source of the flickering light. He was a medium built man, with wrinkles to show the affects of his many year on this planet earth. His gray hair didn't do him any favors and niether did the bald spot upon his head. He draped in green attire and his lips qiuvered as he signaled to James as to come inside.

He set down the lantern on his table and tossed a large log into the raging fire.

" Your lucky," the man paused and rubed his red hands together. "We have one room left, but it'll cost you," he had a curious look about him, but netherless he contied the process of warming his hands by the fire.

"How much?" questioned James. " I'll give you every penny on my person for a roof over my head,"continued James, going all in had this been a game of poker.

"Very well," said the man, standing up at the same time. The man then took the money from James and wished hima good night.

James, releaved to be out of the storm, preceeded upstairs to his room. The first room on the left the man had said. When James reached the peak of the stairs, which afterbattling his way through a swamp of thick mud felt like a mountain to his legs, he peered round and his eyes met his bed.

That exact moment the bed burst into flames

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

it is the subject which attracts my attention and the style of narration

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

eh...

I would practice more.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

To answer your question, yes - it could become book quality. However, there are a few things that you need to work on before your story gets to that point.

I noticed that you have some small problems with grammar, sentence structure, transition phrases and overall flow.

My suggestion is to go back to basics and proofread your work several times. Watch out for comma splices (two sentences that are joined by a comma) and run ons. There are several good proofreading services available for a fee if that is something that you want to do, if not, I'd suggest just going over your work several times as well as reading it aloud.

As far as submitting to a publisher is concerned, most publishers require a submission of at least three complete chapters. When submitting your work, be prepared to answer questions of how you plan to promote your work. A writer who is willing to self-promote is sometimes very attractive to a publishing company.

Good Luck!

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

There's such a mistake as too much details. Or you going to write a 2000 page novel? I think it is pretty much nothing different from the usual novels, I spotted more than a few lines that looks like it was copied out from a book You have to step out of cliches and think of original descriptions of your own! In all, I think it was a good attempt for an 18 year old. Sorry for being so brutally honest. I wish you good luck for your future. Keep writing and keep improving!

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

you know i like it.haha i like that we dont know where she is or who she is..etc. its like a mystery and like you want to know what is happening.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

Your story is not bad. It just needs some work on sentence structure and transition. I also noticed how at some points you would switch from what seems to be 1st person narration (the narration of the main character) to 3rd person narration on accident ( During some points It looked like you took over the story telling of your protagonist). I also agree with Lunasa on you story's flow. Though your descriptions are perfect they don't exactly flow together. Overall my advice is to juist keep proofreading your work and to not forget the advice of previous english teachers.

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

yeah i think so!

Is it book quality? Would you read it?

Hi,

I actually like the way this begins, you've chosen an interesting subject, and a fairly original way to begin a story... But honestly? No, I wouldn't pay to read this. It just isn't "book quality" as you said, not yet anyway.

If you're sincere in your desire to make something out of this story you should either edit your work better yourself, or get someone else to do it for you. I understand about the paragraphs but there were also several instances where the wrong word was used, or misspelled, and the punctuation/sentence structure just struck me as somewhat odd...

But if you aren't dead set on making this a "professional" work I think you could both have a lot of fun and learn something from the experience if you were to publish this story online. There are numerous story archives out there that allows original work.

The type of archive I'm thinking of also allows for easy feedback. So, if you manage to get enough readers interested in your fic you'd receive both encouragement and constructive criticism as you go along....

/EJ