Your Questions About High Heels Mysteries

Ruth asks…

Feedback on the extract from my story?

My story is about how Keira comes to terms with abuse. This is how it starts. Bad dreams and mysteries. It ends with everyone finding out what is wrong with her. After hours of loud music, popcorn and meaningless chat, sleep finally came to Keira. Isabelle's face was briefly illuminated by the sliver of silvery moonlight, before it disappeared again behind the rolling grey clouds. She slowed to a halt, her high heeled shoes making 'clip clop' noises on the cobbled path, the chill breeze whipping her hair around her face as she waited for the incredibly tipsy Keira to catch up, teetering on the edge of the kerb with her own stilettos, and chattering teeth. "Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are" whispered Keira, giggling as she stretched her arms out to balance herself. There were a couple of equally drunk, young men across the road, who were both clutching smashed beer bottles with one hand, the other in the pocket of their low slung denim jeans. "Oi, lovelies" They yelled over the silent street. "Fancy a drink? I know a place that stays open 'til three in the morning!" "No!" Isabelle cried quickly, adding a "Thank you" on the end, to be politer. There was more choruses' of raucous laughing and chanting, before Isabelle grabbed Keira forcefully by the sleeve of her old blue duffel coat, dragging her away, despite her angry protests. And then she woke up. Keira sat bolt upright in bed, sweat drenching the sheets. Georgia was there by her side instantly, brushing stray hairs off her friends tear stained face. "Are you okay? You were screaming!" "What? Was I?" "Yeah, god, Keir, I thought someone has broken in!" "Oh." Peeling the sticky blankets off her, Keira got out of bed and gingerly walked over to the window. She opened it slowly, letting the cold air blow over her face, she closed her eyes and leant against the wall. "Do you want me to get the nurse or something babe?" Georgia asked cautiously. "No." "But Keir…" There was no reply from her friend as Keira darted out of the room, round the corner and into the bathroom. Georgia approached to hear retching sounds and as she rounded the corner, she saw Keira, bent over the toilet seat and being violently sick. She knelt down and gently held all of Keira's hair up, rubbing the small of her back comfortingly. Feedback please x Emzie : It is S L I V E R , not S I L V E R x

Our pick of the answers:

It seems good but can i suggest you change the "Silver of Silvery moonlight" the use of silver twice does not add effect. I think this extract is a good piece of writing, it is good and descriptive, nearer the end you get caught up in the dialogue and have little description, maybe you could describe the facial expressions? I think this is really good though, but remember if you start off good with the description then you must continue it all the way through, but this is really good.

Sharon asks…

Do your children have any qualities that make you wonder where they came from because you...?

...don't share them at all? Both of my sons have perfect vision and I'm nearly blind. I still can't figure out how that one happened. (Their father is also near-sighted and wears glasses.) My younger son though has the most amazing quality to me; he has perfect balance. Not just good balance, it is perfect. He never loses his balance and he never falls. I've seen him balance perfectly on one foot, bouncing up and down, while totally distracted without bobbling in the slightest. He walks naturally on the balls of his feet, like dancers, with perfect grace. He had this amazing gift even as a little baby/toddler. I, on the other hand, am lucky that I don't fall down just trying to walk across the room. If I wear high heels I teter to and fro and it's a gamble if I'm going to lose it. I'm an enthusiastic dancer but not a graceful one. I sometimes wonder if this child could really be mine. The thing that stops me from wondering is that he's a ringer for my father in looks. Nature is a mystery.

Our pick of the answers:

Three children, handsome sons, pretty daughter, definitely didn't come from me. I am what my mum called "plain." Polite way of saying not ugly but won't scare little children! How I was blessed with three such good looking children I'll never know and you should see the two grandchildren, wow. I jokingly tell them good gene pool. My husband is good looking but in his own way, not the George Clooney way. There's another big difference. My middle son is a social butterfly who can make friends and talk to anyone and he does, always has. Me, wallflower, shy and the last one picked on the schoolyard. In other words, his exact opposite. He definitely didn't get that from me! His father tends toward the shy side as well, although from business did learn people skills. My daughter has the grace of an angel and dances, jazz, tap, lyrical. She's so good that she now teaches dance. Me, LOL, like you can't walk across a floor without tripping and making a fool of myself. So as you said, nature is a mystery. I'm not losing sleep over the differences, rather I relish watching my children and learning from them.

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