Hello

ishylynn

ishylynn

New Member
dorkelf told me I had to come and start posting in this forum.

I am currently an 'amateur' writer, but in process of writing a Christian young adult (female) fiction, so maybe soon I will be a professional writer.

I am technically a member of ToJ, but I don't play GW anymore. Looking at the WoW guild, but I play mostly on another server.
 
wOOt thanx for showing up!!!! Write away and make a lil noise would ya!!! Also good luck on your writing.
 
Thank you!!

Thanks for coming Ishy! ;) I hope you'll post an excerpt from some of your recent work here - I've only seen bits and pieces of your new fiction but it looks fantastic. Also please give the writing assignment a try as well. Yes I am actually begging. :) We need more serious writers involved in the contest - not for my sake but for the aspiring writers around here who need a forum for regular writing and meaningful feedback.

Paul
 
Creekwood Chronicles - Chapter 1
(remember: this is aimed at 12-15 year old girls)


Sunday 8/27, 3:35pm

My best friend Kiri Soo Park is probably the only Korean person in the U.S. that speaks redneck.

“Jaaay-ceee....?” Kiri drawls, sucking in her cheeks as she gazes into my purple-framed mirror with “Princess” scrawled at the top. “D'ya think one of those high-protein diets will make my face skinnier?”

Her accent is stronger than mine, and she had lived in Georgia since she was eight, while I have lived here my entire life. I didn't think she was fat at all, but she does have a roundish face characteristic of many Koreans. Kiri seems to think her round face is the one thing standing between her and stardom.

“Um, it might, but I heard they can also give you real bad breath. Remember Li?” I pointed out. Li Soong is a senior at our school, Creekwood Academy, and was an Atkins poster child until her boyfriend broke up with her because of her breath. Then she just joined the girl's Lacrosse team and ran off all her imaginary fat. Now she's dating some college lacrosse player.

Kiri flopped back on my pink and purple bedspread and contemplated Li's dragon breath before sighing and dragging a purple fuzzy pillow over her face. She screamed into the pillow, her flame-colored Docs flailing up into the air.

"Maybe you should join the lacrosse team...?" I laughed. Lacrosse was by far the most popular sport on campus, followed by soccer, as our football team has gone four straight seasons 0-6.

Just as suddenly, Kiri hurls the pillow aside and sits up. Which is unfortunate since I'm right in the middle of sketching her.

“Put that pencil down! Don't think I don't know you're drawing me again. I don't want to be in another one of your comic strips. That's what the Divas are for!” She waves madly at my sketch pad like she is trying to erase it with her hands.

The Divas also go to Creekwood Academy, and are comprised of jittery Mingyu Zhuang, ditzy Hea Jin Lee, and the purely evil Tosca Xia. Aside from being a Christian manga artist, my life dream is to see Tosca get buried in a vat of neon-green goo which would permanently stain her perfectly proportioned face. Except for that small voice of guilt inside my head that says I should be reaching out to Tosca instead of loathing her.

The school we go to is 75% Asian, as the city we live in, Duluth, Georgia, which is outside of Atlanta, has an enormous Asian community. The only reason I go there instead of public school is because Mrs. Park talked my mom into sending me and my siblings there 7 years ago, and my mom is big on 'getting a good education'. She almost sounds British whenever she says that. I like being at school with Kiri, but with ash-blonde hair, green eyes, and fair, freckled skin, I don't exactly blend in with the crowd.

Tosca and her clique call themselves the MySpace Divas, after the graphic design company they run on the internet. Half the school can be found chatting about the latest bulletin or seen wearing a Diva-brand tee off hours. Tosca is co-captain of the soccer team, with her designer clothes and perfect mouth. Kiri and I are sure she tapes her eyelids every morning to give her that bright ingénue look popular in Asian magazines. What makes her even more evil is her boyfriend, Shin Saitou, senior and captain of the Lacrosse team. Not because he's evil, but because he's absolutely perfect.

Of course, neither Tosca or Chin realize I exist except for being a 'token white girl' at CA. I don't play sports, I'm not Asian, and my family has lived in and around Duluth for generations. I'm hoping my comic strip might change some of that. Unfortunately, if I actually get it published, I probably can't make fun of them in any obvious way.

The comic strip I draw is called “Hallowed Halls” and I have been drawing like crazy in an attempt to get it published in the school newspaper. It's not all that sophisticated, just usually a tri-panel comic that makes fun of something at Creekwood. So far, I haven't been able to get it published because the editor of the paper, Ryan Kim, thinks it lacks “panache”, which I had to look up in a dictionary because I had no idea what the word meant. Ryan has a tendency to say stuff like that all the time and he really believes everyone understands what he is saying. I'm also not sure if he thinks anything has 'panache' that he didn't actually write himself.

“Uggghhhh...” moans Kiri, imitating a dying moose. “It's almost four. I'm going to have to go soon or mom will take away my practice time again.”

Kiri wants to be a Christian rock artist, but her parents want her to be a classical pianist. Kiri is so good that she can make the piano sound amazing while not actually practicing anything remotely related to her lessons. However, the moment she picked up her first Fender guitar, she was truly in love. For a long time she hid it from her parents, playing at the music store and then at my house, but finally a couple years ago she confessed to her dad. It took another year for her mom to relent, but I think Mrs. Park now enjoys the newfound power she has over Kiri in allowing it. One steel-toed boot out of line and Kiri's white Fender gets locked up in the gun cabinet in the basement.

Why the Parks own a gun cabinet when they don't actually own any guns was something I've never quite understood.

Kiri was right though. It was getting late, and we both had youth group tonight. There wasn't much spiritual going on at my church's youth group tonight, since it was a “Back to School” pizza party. Kiri's youth group was studying Isaiah. They had been studying Isaiah in depth for three months now, and Kiri said they still hadn't gotten halfway through the book.

“I'll talk to Dad again about going to the Jeremy Camp concert next week, but I don't think Mama's going to let me,” Kiri said as she stumbled toward the door. I shrug. “Dad's going, so it may just be another round of the 'Embarrass Jacie Show',” I replied. “So not Pocky.” Pocky is a Japanese sweet, sorta like a thin pretzel dipped in chocolate. Kiri and I started using Pocky as a verb to mean something really cool or sweet.

At Christian concerts, my Dad makes most fangirls look calm. “I can ask Mom to say something to your Mom, though, if you want.”

My dad only became a Christian last year, after we had prayed for him for years. My mom got saved just after I was born, through a neighbor, and all us kids had become Christians at young ages through her. Dad was rather resistant for a long time, but once he gave up to God he became somewhat of a super-Christian.

Kiri being at the concert would support me in my embarrassment, and she would get to see a Christian artist she admired. If her mother wouldn't let her go, then I don't know what I'm going to do. Plead sickness? Homework? Insanity?

Going through the door, Kiri waves one hand back and I hear her stomp all the way down the stairs.
 
Yay Ishy! I think he owes us both Suno now, don't you? :D

And by the way, I've already critiqued this, but Ishy really does want constructive feedback!
 
Very well then - we must SUNO! How about tonight?

By the way, if anybody out there knows what drug they put in that stuff - DON'T tell me.

ishylynn said:
Creekwood Chronicles - Chapter 1
(remember: this is aimed at 12-15 year old girls)


Sunday 8/27, 3:35pm

My best friend Kiri Soo Park is probably the only Korean person in the U.S. that speaks redneck.

“Jaaay-ceee....?” Kiri drawls, sucking in her cheeks as she gazes into my purple-framed mirror with “Princess” scrawled at the top. “D'ya think one of those high-protein diets will make my face skinnier?”

Her accent is stronger than mine, and she had lived in Georgia since she was eight, while I have lived here my entire life. I didn't think she was fat at all, but she does have a roundish face characteristic of many Koreans. Kiri seems to think her round face is the one thing standing between her and stardom.

“Um, it might, but I heard they can also give you real bad breath. Remember Li?” I pointed out. Li Soong is a senior at our school, Creekwood Academy, and was an Atkins poster child until her boyfriend broke up with her because of her breath. Then she just joined the girl's Lacrosse team and ran off all her imaginary fat. Now she's dating some college lacrosse player.
Click to expand...

What a great start Ishy, it draws me into the story right away. I think you're handling the background information thing well - it is obviously necessary to provide this at the beginning of your book - but all the same you might be able to minimize it a little because it does interrupt the flow of action. For instance:

“Um, it might, but I heard they can also give you real bad breath. Remember Li?” I pointed out. Li was an Atkins poster child until her boyfriend broke up with her because of her breath. Then she just joined the Creekwood Academy Lacrosse team and ran off all her imaginary fat. Now she's dating some college lacrosse player.

Kiri flopped back on my pink and purple bedspread and contemplated Li's dragon breath before sighing and dragging a purple fuzzy pillow over her face. She screamed into the pillow, her flame-colored Docs flailing up into the air.
Click to expand...

That's a little too omnicient to tell us what Kiri is thinking about. :D

"Maybe you should join the lacrosse team...?" I laughed. Lacrosse was by far the most popular sport on campus, followed by soccer, as our football team has gone four straight seasons 0-6.

Just as suddenly,
Click to expand...

As what?

Kiri hurls the pillow aside and sits up. Which is unfortunate since I'm right in the middle of sketching her.

“Put that pencil down! Don't think I don't know you're drawing me again. I don't want to be in another one of your comic strips. That's what the Divas are for!” She waves madly at my sketch pad like she is trying to erase it with her hands.

The Divas also go to Creekwood Academy, and are comprised of jittery Mingyu Zhuang, ditzy Hea Jin Lee, and the purely evil Tosca Xia. Aside from being a Christian manga artist, my life dream is to see Tosca get buried in a vat of neon-green goo which would permanently stain her perfectly proportioned face. Except for that small voice of guilt inside my head that says I should be reaching out to Tosca instead of loathing her.
Click to expand...

You've just written one of my favorite paragraphs I have ever read, anywhere. That is great! :)

The school we go to is 75% Asian, as the city we live in, Duluth, Georgia, which is outside of Atlanta, has an enormous Asian community. The only reason I go there instead of public school is because Mrs. Park talked my mom into sending me and my siblings there 7 years ago, and my mom is big on 'getting a good education'. She almost sounds British whenever she says that. I like being at school with Kiri, but with ash-blonde hair, green eyes, and fair, freckled skin, I don't exactly blend in with the crowd.

Tosca and her clique call themselves the MySpace Divas, after the graphic design company they run on the internet. Half the school can be found chatting about the latest bulletin or seen wearing a Diva-brand tee off hours. Tosca is co-captain of the soccer team, with her designer clothes and perfect mouth. Kiri and I are sure she tapes her eyelids every morning to give her that bright ingénue look popular in Asian magazines. What makes her even more evil is her boyfriend, Shin Saitou, senior and captain of the Lacrosse team. Not because he's evil, but because he's absolutely perfect.

Of course, neither Tosca or Chin realize I exist except for being a 'token white girl' at CA. I don't play sports, I'm not Asian, and my family has lived in and around Duluth for generations. I'm hoping my comic strip might change some of that. Unfortunately, if I actually get it published, I probably can't make fun of them in any obvious way.

The comic strip I draw is called “Hallowed Halls” and I have been drawing like crazy in an attempt to get it published in the school newspaper. It's not all that sophisticated, just usually a tri-panel comic that makes fun of something at Creekwood. So far, I haven't been able to get it published because the editor of the paper, Ryan Kim, thinks it lacks “panache”, which I had to look up in a dictionary because I had no idea what the word meant. Ryan has a tendency to say stuff like that all the time and he really believes everyone understands what he is saying. I'm also not sure if he thinks anything has 'panache' that he didn't actually write himself.
Click to expand...

That is all well-written but it is almost straight narration and maybe too much information - might be better to dole out some of this info a little more gradually or your reader might get lost in those details, as entertaining as they are.

“Uggghhhh...” moans Kiri, imitating a dying moose. “It's almost four. I'm going to have to go soon or mom will take away my practice time again.”
Click to expand...

Being a piano teacher, I find it hard to imagine having students who would actually complain if their practice time were taken away. :D I think the latter sentence is slightly long and awkward. When writing for a younger audience its better to break things up when you can and avoid irregular tenses like 'were taken away'. For example, "It's almost four. I've got to go soon or mom won't let me practice again."

Kiri wants to be a Christian rock artist, but her parents want her to be a classical pianist. Kiri is so good that she can make the piano sound amazing while not actually practicing anything remotely related to her lessons. However, the moment she picked up her first Fender guitar, she was truly in love. For a long time she hid it from her parents, playing at the music store and then at my house, but finally a couple years ago she confessed to her dad. It took another year for her mom to relent, but I think Mrs. Park now enjoys the newfound power she has over Kiri in allowing it. One steel-toed boot out of line and Kiri's white Fender gets locked up in the gun cabinet in the basement.

Why the Parks own a gun cabinet when they don't actually own any guns was something I've never quite understood.

Kiri was right though. It was getting late, and we both had youth group tonight. There wasn't much spiritual going on at my church's youth group tonight, since it was a “Back to School” pizza party. Kiri's youth group was studying Isaiah. They had been studying Isaiah in depth for three months now, and Kiri said they still hadn't gotten halfway through the book.

“I'll talk to Dad again about going to the Jeremy Camp concert next week, but I don't think Mama's going to let me,” Kiri said as she stumbled toward the door. I shrug. “Dad's going, so it may just be another round of the 'Embarrass Jacie Show',” I replied. “So not Pocky.” Pocky is a Japanese sweet, sorta like a thin pretzel dipped in chocolate. Kiri and I started using Pocky as a verb to mean something really cool or sweet.
Click to expand...

Dea's coworker calls Pocky 'Nestle Quick on a Stick'. :p

There's a little tense mixing here with "Kiri said" and "I shrug" and "I replied". I do this kind of thing all the time. :)

At Christian concerts, my Dad makes most fangirls look calm. “I can ask Mom to say something to your Mom, though, if you want.”
Click to expand...

That sentence is a little unclear and seems extraneous, but I might have just misunderstood it.

My dad only became a Christian last year, after we had prayed for him for years. My mom got saved just after I was born, through a neighbor, and all us kids had become Christians at young ages through her. Dad was rather resistant for a long time, but once he gave up to God he became somewhat of a super-Christian.

Kiri being at the concert would support me in my embarrassment, and she would get to see a Christian artist she admired. If her mother wouldn't let her go, then I don't know what I'm going to do. Plead sickness? Homework? Insanity?

Going through the door, Kiri waves one hand back and I hear her stomp all the way down the stairs.
Click to expand...

I think you need something particularly funny or dramatic to happen at the end to draw the reader forward into your next chapter. Also one final piece of advice - look carefully at the overall 'action' of what is happening, minus the narrative that gives background information. Make sure the action is unified and flows smoothely.

Ishy, this is fantastic writing and I have no doubt you could really get this story marketed and published once you revise and edit it. Great work, hope I'll get to read the whole thing sometime soon. Thanks so much for posting it.

Paul
 
ishylynn said:
At Christian concerts, my Dad makes most fangirls look calm. “I can ask Mom to say something to your Mom, though, if you want.”
Click to expand...

Im not used to this kind of writing, i dont get into it too much but this was good. I liked it. the only thing that threw me off was the sentence above. maybe something like: "I can ask my mom to say something to your mom, if ya want."

The story so far is real, nothing was out of the ordinary and it was just... real. like that kind of stuff happens everyday. I liked it. keep up the good work.

and with the sumo stuff... I uh.. oh nvm i dont think i want to know
 
ishylynn said:
Kiri drawls

I pointed out.

Kiri flopped back on my pink and purple bedspread...

I laughed...

Just as suddenly, Kiri hurls...

She waves madly...
Click to expand...

First off, I think you have MADD SK1LLZ!!1! It really was a great read and I enjoyed it. The only thing that I found was that you had present, as well as past tense. You're going to have to pick one or the other during the dialogue and the actions (by actions, I mean waves/waved and hurls/hurled.

I'm looking forward to the next installment!
 
Yeah, it was good... if you like stories about teenage girls and their semi-boring-as-heck lives.

Sorry if that sounds too critical - I had a good time reading your story, it's just not my type. ;)
 
Wow Lazarus, that was harsh :p

While it may be girly, so far my attention is hooked! Even though my type isn't Christian young female fiction and I'm not between the age bracket of 12-15.
 
POCKY!

Someone mentioned Pocky!

OH JOY!!!!

Oh bliss, oh life that is within us!!

*does a I-love-pocky dance*

............................even mentioning Pocky puts me on a sugar rush...
 
Umm okay, now that I've recovered from someone mentioning... those things... and reread it, I think I have something constructive to say.

Pocky is great.

And, somewhat like Pocky, this excerpt is also great. I like how your narrator seems to have real feelings and emotions. I also like how you get away with using "modern dated" statements (like MySpace) without seeming to be namedropping or your writing becoming stilted.

Why the Parks own a gun cabinet when they don't actually own any guns was something I've never quite understood.
Click to expand...

....aaaaand I love the understated, oneliner humor. It doesn't blare "I'm funny, so laugh at me!" Rather it amuses just because it is in itself amusing.

I also like the way that the setting is somewhat unique (at least to me.) Being the "token White girl" in an all-Asian school isn't something that I read every day.

And I like Pocky. I swear last year when I watched "Onegai Teacher" I had a hard time controlling my sudden chocolate cravings.

Actually, I didn't control them too well at all.

But yeah, I like the story and I like your style although (somewhat like Lazarus) I'm not too certain where the story is going and I'm not sure that I particularly would try too hard to find out where it is going unless it involves high-speed chases, alien invaders, or massive explosions of some sort. Or Pocky.

Okay, okay, I'll admit that that last line was simply a facade to try keep people from knowing that I enjoy reading chick-lit. I enjoy seeing things from the other side of the gender barrier sometimes. Uh, I'd better stop before people label me as sensative. And I should get back to my essay.

Keep up the good work, and eventually you'll even get Laz as a fan :)
 
After a long haul of being ill, I have decided to pick this back up. In my hiatus, I came up with some side plots which I think might help later in the book. I have been editing the first chapter, using what people suggested earlier here, but I am a bit stuck on which tense to go with (a common problem, I think). Suggestions on that would be helpful.

Here is chapter 2 (unedited, so rough):

Sunday 8/26, 4:47pm

“Jacie, have you fed Zuka yet?” my mom asks as I wander into the kitchen.

I shake my head. The orange, black, and white cat is sitting in the middle of the kitchen staring up at the refrigerator. I yank open the freezer and take out a package of frozen corn. There is actually a whole vegetarian movement for cats and dogs, but our cat is probably the only cat in the world who is a vegetarian by her own choice. She only eats grain-based dry cat food, and instead of a daily helping of wet food like most cats, she wants frozen vegetables.

I defrost a handful of corn under warm water in the sink and plop them into a custard cup that we use for Zuka's dish, setting it on the floor where she eats. Zuka slams her face in the bowl like we are depriving her, despite the almost full bowl of dry cat food right next to her.

My thirteen-year-old brother Alex saunters into the kitchen. “So how long until dinner?” he asks as he eyes the spaghetti sauce my mom is stirring. Alex wants to be a preacher, and is constantly preaching at himself in the mirror of the bathroom he shares with my little sister. He wears suits on the weekends and he's probably the only 13-year-old who videotapes TV evangelists so he can imitate them later. Most every conversation I have with him is elaborated by sharp hand gestures, over-explained parables, and flashbacks of his oh-so-long thirteen-year-old life.

My mom gives him the “Mom look” and retorts, “If you are in such a hurry to eat, you can make the salad.”

I learned long ago never to ask about anything being done in the house unless I wanted to do it. Sometimes I didn't mind helping if I am really hungry or just wanted to chat with my mom, but my brother never seemed to learn this lesson. He groans pitifully like the weak-from-starvation overgrown boy he is.

Zuka finishes her meal and daintily washes her face. I pull out plates and set the table for the five of us.

When my dad comes into the kitchen, it's like a steamroller on Starbucks. My dad is pretty much defines 'Georgia redneck', and as a contractor spends a lot of time yelling over loud machines. Every piece of clothing he owns either has to come from the Christian bookstore, or he has a fish symbol embroidered on it. All of our cars have an ichthus, as well as many items in our house. Even my parent's business ad in the yellow pages has the fish symbol.

I am thrilled that my dad became a Christian, but sometimes I wonder if he's afraid that if he doesn't put the fish symbol on everything, he will go back to not being a Christian. I don't really think God would let that happen, but at least there isn’t a soul in north Georgia that could possibly not know our family is Christian.

“Hey y'all! I jus' saw Jimmy and he said they jacked up their Ram and added those spinnin' wheel covers! We 'as goin' to take it out, but it was getting' late.” My dad swoops in, kisses my mom, hugs me sideways, and pretends to sucker punch my brother. 'Mmm, spaghetti, smells spec-tac-u-laaaar!” He grabs the salad bowl from my brother and frisbees it onto the table. It slams into a plate with a crash, and knocks a fork on the floor with a ringing clatter.

“Drew!” My mom rarely shouts, but her sharpest tone can be kinda scary anyway.

“Ah, don't you mind. Jus' a dirty fork!” He pulls out another fork and exchanges them, tossing the dirty fork onto the counter as my mom brings the spaghetti to the table.

Madison appears and slides into her chair. She has a weird talent of always showing up exactly when she is wanted. My eleven-year-old sister is a certifiable genius who skipped first grade. She also has wanted to be a missionary doctor to Uganda since she is two. How she picked that out at age two, I don't know. There are a number of things about Maddie I've never been able to understand, but I guess that's why she's the genius and not me.

During dinner, all my dad talks about is wheel covers for the truck. Somebody got some and now he wants some, even though the truck is barely a year old. He can talk about cars almost as long as he could talk about Jesus.

Finally, there is a quiet second when my dad's mouth is full of spaghetti.

“Hey Mom, could you maybe say something to Mrs. Park about letting Kiri go to the Jeremy Camp concert next week. Maybe if you say she's going with us she'll let Kiri go, too.” I use my best “Please Mom, it's in the name of Jesus...?” look.


Mom takes a bite of salad, and gives me 'the eye'.

“I'll talk to her, but you and Kiri need to stop depending on me to resolve Kiri's issues with her mom.” She puts the fork down and reaches for another breadstick, obviously ending the conversation. Dad launches into a new stream of praise for wheel covers.

Realizing that is the best I is going to get, I let the argument die and pray that Mrs. Park would be in a good mood when Mom talked to her.
 
Hai Ishylynn! Welcome back!

Once again, your writing is smooth like Canadian ice-covered roads: easy to start, hard to stop.

I'm not 100% sure where this excerpt is going and how it fits into the big picture, but it's an excerpt, so I'm not too surprised.

One word of advice is to be very very careful whenever you reconstruct an accent in print. It can be done well (It's not really my call whether you do well or not, I don't know that particular accent. I don't mind it here, but then I don't know the accent. Huckleberry Finn is a classic example of it being done well) but it can be a real turn-off if not. One "realism" question I might ask is, if the protaganist grew up with her father her entire life, how does she know that her father has an accent? It took me till I was about 18 to realize that my granny does not actually have "a beautiful bell-like voice" but rather a Manchester accent that makes her vowels lower and her tones ring. Up till then I thought she spoke Western Canadian english just like the rest of us.
 
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