Nancy asks…
What do you think of this rough except? Is it as good as twilight?
Gus Anderson's first day of high school began with a bang. That morning, Barbie Flenderson shot herself dead. "Did you know her?" Gus asked Beasley, his locker neighbor. "Everyone did," he said. "She was quite the, uh, social butterfly, if you know what I mean." Beasley started to hump his door locker. It was a tough morning to begin his foray into public education. After weeks of convincing his mother that Green Valley High School did not house thugs, troubled teens and minorities she nearly cuffed Gus to his bedpost when she learned from the morning news that a student, from his new school, had committed suicide. Before escaping through his bedroom window to catch the school bus, Gus did all he could to convince her that public education did not cause increase risk of teen suicide. He hoped he was right. His mother had resisted his move to Green Valley public school the entire winter break. Before he was expelled he had been attending the prestigious Emerald Caverns Academy: a private school for boys of wealthy parents. A club in which Gus was sorry to say he belonged to. However, his family was not rich enough to convince the dean to reverse the expulsion—which suited Gus fine. He hated Emerald Caverns and its ancient teachers and its itchy uniforms and its stuffy dorm rooms and, not to mention, the lack of female company unless you count the decrypted Nurse Nettle, who legend has it, was a nurse for the confederate army. Gus longed for public education and all of its…opportunities. When he did arrive for his first day at Green Valley High School, Gus had to wait before he explored these opportunities. The counselor's office was crowded with crying students. This was understandable. Not only did the school lose a student and friend, according to the Vote-4-Barbie flyers still posted on the wall, they also lost a presidential candidate. Gus removed his raincoat and book bag from his locker. Gus could smell bullshit. In fact, it was that special nose of his that had caused him to be expelled from his last school. It turned out that "The Man" did not appreciate Gus's interest in uncovering global (and occasionally) school wide conspiracies. But for Gus, staking out in Mr. Flannery's shower or drugging the school nurse to obtain private medical documents was worth it. The truth was always worth it. "She threw the sickest parties" Beasley continued. "Yup, we'll miss her a'ight." It was the end of the school day and students were still traveling in groups, whispering. Some were crying. Others were holding each other. They all clutched a copy of the morning paper. "Well, most of us will." Beasley pursed his lips as he looked down the hall. Four girls, all dressed in red shirts, bounced down the hallway elbow-to-elbow. The crowd in the hallway parted for them. The girls were without newspapers and frowns. "Who are they?" he asked. "Nadia, Natalie, Nat and Natasha," Beasley whispered. "They're Jawbreakers—the cheerleading squad." He stood gaping as they passed, his binder slipping from his hand and into the girl's path. "Everyone knows they hated Barbie." He picked up his binder admiring the heel print. Gus ran in to their type before. They were the girls who made you buy their lunch when they forget their purses. They were the girls who copied homework and tests from eager, helpful boys. They were the girls who stole loyal boyfriends from their naïve girlfriends. They were the girls who hated popular, pretty competition. But were they the girls who got rid of their competition? "You gave me a lot to think about, Beasley. Thank you." He unwrapped a cherry flavor Tootsie roll and placed it in his mouth. Gus followed the Jawbreakers into the parking lot. Gus imagined that on an ordinary day the parking lot would be busy with students, teachers and bus drivers honking their way out, but today was no ordinary day. Today, the noise and commotion was gentle. He followed the girls to a blue mustang. The thick armed driver who wore what looked like a letterman jacket stared ahead as they approached. He did not get out and they did not get in. Gus crouched behind a car. "Did you get it?" the boy asked. The blondest girl stepped closer and threw him a red booklet. The boy flipped the pages and smiled. "So how does it feel to get away with the perfect crime, girls?" he asked. The Jawbreakers immediately left with scowls on their faces . Gus wasn't certain if they were capable of murdering a student, but he did know this. The four girls who wore matching red tank tops and strutted down the hallway were not grieving the death of Barbie. Nadia, Natalie, Nat, and Natasia: they were the bad girls.
Our pick of the answers:
That was pretty good, i liked it. Might want to think about more complex sentence structures, but apart from that i liked it. :D
Donna asks…
Would stephenie Meyer like my writing?
Gus Anderson's first day of high school began with a bang. That morning, Barbie Flenderson shot herself dead. "Did you know her?" Gus asked Beasley, his locker neighbor. "Everyone did," he said. "She was quite the, uh, social butterfly, if you know what I mean." Beasley started to hump his door locker. It was a tough morning to begin his foray into public education. After weeks of convincing his mother that Green Valley High School did not house thugs, troubled teens and minorities she nearly cuffed Gus to his bedpost when she learned from the morning news that a student, from his new school, had committed suicide. Before escaping through his bedroom window to catch the school bus, Gus did all he could to convince her that public education did not cause increase risk of teen suicide. He hoped he was right. His mother had resisted his move to Green Valley public school the entire winter break. Before he was expelled he had been attending the prestigious Emerald Caverns Academy: a private school for boys of wealthy parents. A club in which Gus was sorry to say he belonged to. However, his family was not rich enough to convince the dean to reverse the expulsion—which suited Gus fine. He hated Emerald Caverns and its ancient teachers and its itchy uniforms and its stuffy dorm rooms and, not to mention, the lack of female company unless you count the decrypted Nurse Nettle, who legend has it, was a nurse for the confederate army. Gus longed for public education and all of its…opportunities. When he did arrive for his first day at Green Valley High School, Gus had to wait before he explored these opportunities. The counselor's office was crowded with crying students. This was understandable. Not only did the school lose a student and friend, according to the Vote-4-Barbie flyers still posted on the wall, they also lost a presidential candidate. Gus removed his raincoat and book bag from his locker. Gus could smell bullshit. In fact, it was that special nose of his that had caused him to be expelled from his last school. It turned out that "The Man" did not appreciate Gus's interest in uncovering global (and occasionally) school wide conspiracies. But for Gus, staking out in Mr. Flannery's shower or drugging the school nurse to obtain private medical documents was worth it. The truth was always worth it. "She threw the sickest parties" Beasley continued. "Yup, we'll miss her a'ight." It was the end of the school day and students were still traveling in groups, whispering. Some were crying. Others were holding each other. They all clutched a copy of the morning paper. "Well, most of us will." Beasley pursed his lips as he looked down the hall. Four girls, all dressed in red shirts, bounced down the hallway elbow-to-elbow. The crowd in the hallway parted for them. The girls were without newspapers and frowns. "Who are they?" he asked. "Nadia, Natalie, Nat and Natasha," Beasley whispered. "They're Jawbreakers—the cheerleading squad." He stood gaping as they passed, his binder slipping from his hand and into the girl's path. "Everyone knows they hated Barbie." He picked up his binder admiring the heel print. Gus ran in to their type before. They were the girls who made you buy their lunch when they forget their purses. They were the girls who copied homework and tests from eager, helpful boys. They were the girls who stole loyal boyfriends from their naïve girlfriends. They were the girls who hated popular, pretty competition. But were they the girls who got rid of their competition? "You gave me a lot to think about, Beasley. Thank you." He unwrapped a cherry flavor Tootsie roll and placed it in his mouth. Gus followed the Jawbreakers into the parking lot. Gus imagined that on an ordinary day the parking lot would be busy with students, teachers and bus drivers honking their way out, but today was no ordinary day. Today, the noise and commotion was gentle. He followed the girls to a blue mustang. The thick armed driver who wore what looked like a letterman jacket stared ahead as they approached. He did not get out and they did not get in. Gus crouched behind a car. "Did you get it?" the boy asked. The blondest girl stepped closer and threw him a red booklet. The boy flipped the pages and smiled. "So how does it feel to get away with the perfect crime, girls?" he asked. The Jawbreakers immediately left with scowls on their faces . Gus wasn't certain if they were capable of murdering a student, but he did know this. The four girls who wore matching red tank tops and strutted down the hallway were not grieving the death of Barbie. Nadia, Natalie, Nat, and Natasia: they were the bad girls.
Our pick of the answers:
How the hell would I know? But I doubt Stephenie Meyer knows good writing if it bites her sanctimonious Mary-Sue arse, and it's not her you need to impress, it's publishers and agents. Either way, this about the tenth time you've posted this extract of your story, with different questions attached to it. I wasn't in interested in this the first time you posted it, and I'm not interested now - not least because your writing is amateurish and clumsy and your plot is a shameless and massively obvious rip-off of the film 'Heathers'. Rather than wasting your time posting this same tired old extract of your story over and over again, why you don't you spend some of those many hours actually writing? Or at the very least, improving. Then you might actually get somewhere.
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