A Writer Is Born!

Today, I’m beaming with pride folks!

No, I didn’t get a $64,000,000.00 book deal. Heck, I haven’t even finished the first draft on my current WIP. And I’m not pregnant (though, if I were, I’d probably be worth more than $64,000,000.00 soon enough).

What I’m proud of today has very little to do with me, except for the fact that I may have had a hand in delivering a newborn today. One that will most likely go on to finish their first draft and get that $64,000,000.00 book deal!

Not a “BABY” newborn. A newborn writer!

*smiling and patiently waiting for the applause to cease*

Just to be clear, all I did was poke them with a stick until they bled words offer gentle encouragement and a little humble advice to someone after they had expressed an interest in writing. But still, I’m excited! That’s one less person in the world that will think I’m a complete lunatic just because I never go anywhere without a pen and pad of paper.

Enough of my ramblings.

The real purpose of this post is for feedback. Why? Because this is their first 1,100 words (approx.) as “a writer”. That’s right, not “aspiring writer”… or “writer in training”… or “future author” – A WRITER.

What I am asking of you is a few minutes to read this and then let us know what you think of it.

BE ADVISED: This is, as I tend to say, the first creative draft – fingers flying over the keyboard with reckless abandon (before any edits or corrections).

It was my idea to post this for public opinion to take any bias out of the mix.

Oh, and for the moment, we’ll call this newborn writer Tappy Happypants, just for fun. 😉

So, without further ado:

Emma sat in her bedroom wondering what would happen next. Who else was in the room with her? How many of them were there? Was it just her imagination or was this real?

As she stared at the ceiling she could see that there were multiple colors of vapor forming many shapes and sizes of things that looked familiar to her. There were people, places, and things from her past that had been taken from her at one time or another. The brilliant colors took her breath away and for a moment it felt like she was one of them, floating weightless in mid air. Was she having an out of body experience? They were watching her like a movie or play that was unfolding before them.

Suddenly she was weightless no more. Her body floated down from the now purple hazy vapor and she felt grounded, reappearing from a magicians disappearing act. The floor was old, worn, and dirty but each step she took felt like smooth glass that had never been touched. Crisp and clean with every step.

Where was she going?

There was a long hallway that was etched with beautiful words and pictures. As she walked down the cold dark hallway she could hear music and laughing. It was coming from the other side of the walls and it seemed no matter how far she walked she could never get there. Or could she?

Exhaustion overcame Emma as she fell to the floor and collapsed. She hit the floor so hard that it created a crack that divided the hallway. As she lay there unaware of her fate the crack in the floor gave from underneath her.

“How on earth did I get here”, Emma said as she rubbed her eyes trying to get them to focus on the only thing she could see, her hands. As she sat there she realized she was not in the hallway anymore. She was inside a huge bright blue room.

As her vision adjusted to the brightness she noticed that there was a door on each side of the room. Where did the doors go and why was she here?

As Emma sat there in the middle of the room she kept trying to remember how she got here. She was in her bedroom and then she had a dream. What was she dreaming about? Is this a dream and if it is when was she going to wake up?

The way Emma looked at it the only way to get out of this room was to try and open one of the doors, if not all of them. She got up off the floor and started toward the door in front of her. She tried to open it but it was locked. She tried to open the other three doors and they were locked as well. Emma slid down the wall into a sitting position with her hands on top of her head with her eyes closed. When Emma opened her eyes and looked across the room she saw what appeared to be a giant tornado spout that had formed in the floor in front of one of the doors.

Emma was quite calm as she walked to the edge and looked down into the dark spiraling cascades of the billowing clouds that seemed to lead to nowhere. The wind was howling like a pack of wolves hunting their pray in the wild. Emma looked around the room and without any more thought she jumped into the vicious whirling tornado and as she fell through it she passed out.

“Hey are you alright?” asked Conner as he was standing over Emma shaking her body as to wake her up. He had been working in his garden when he heard a loud thundering noise followed by a bright light on the other side of the hill. He dropped his plow and hurried toward the hill to see what was going on. When Conner reached Emma she was lying on the ground lifeless. How did she get here and where did she come from? Without any hesitation Conner carried her into his cabin.

The cabin had been in his family for generations and for the life of him he could not remember how old it was. Nevertheless, it was a comfortable way to live. He had a roof over his head. He could keep warm in the winter and around these parts that was a good thing. Set back in the hills of the Appalachian Mountains this was heaven. The weather was beautiful and there were seasons. He had the opportunity to move up to Baltimore and go to college on a scholarship and decided that he would rather live on the land and do what he loved. He built things with his hands out of magnificent pieces of wood that had been growing in these mountains since the beginning of time. His father had taught him how to turn wood into beautiful furniture and he could not think of doing anything else. At least it kept him from having to punch a time clock which he hated with a passion. He worked when he felt inspired and enjoyed his life. Free from the hustle and bustle of city life and free from drama.

Emma woke up in yet another strange place wondering if this was real or was she still dreaming? She looked at her surroundings and realized she was in a bed but it was not hers. The bed was absolutely breathtaking she had never seen anything like it before. It had to be a hundred years old or more at least that’s what it seemed to her.

She got out of bed and opened the door to the rest of the cabin.

“I was wondering how long you were going to sleep”, said Conner with a look in his eyes that he had known her a lifetime.

Emma looked startled for a moment and then realized who he was. Conner Hobart was her husband.

This could not be happening to her.

She was dreaming about being in a hallway and then in a room with four doors that would not open and then wasn’t there a tornado spout or something of the sort? It was all a little strange to her to be here now. Conner had died in a snowmobile accident two weeks ago and now here she was in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with him. How was all of this possible?

Had she died too? She thought for a moment and tried to put things together. Nothing worked. She was alive and so was Conner. Living and breathing and looking at her with those sky blue eyes of his.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please let us know your thoughts and, if you would, please pass this along to others that you think might be willing to share with us!


G.R. Bliss & Tappy Happypants

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2 Responses to A Writer Is Born!

  1. First off let me say that this is better than any of my first efforts! I’ll just put some general comments here. If you’d like a full critique, please email it to me in a Word file and I’ll be happy to oblige 🙂

    Your opening was intriguing, your second paragraph especially so. Personally, I’d shift things around a little so the 2nd is the first, if that makes sense. It carries a much bigger hook and really grabs attention.

    You conveyed Emma’s confusion nicely and there’s some lovely description. However, there’s also a lot of repetition of words and similar sentence structures used too often, too close together. I also think you should look at minimising how often you use Emma’s name.

    The point of view shift to Conner was unnecessary and a little confusing. It would be more powerful to have Emma wake up in the new environment and show her reaction (emotional, mental and physical) to realising who he is. You could then use dialogue etc. to show it isn’t HER Conner (which I’m assuming was the intention of the POV shift in the first place).

    This piece of writing shows a lot of potential and has an interesting hook. I want to know more about both characters and where/when Emma is.

    Thanks for sharing this with us 🙂

    • G.R. Bliss says:

      From Tappy Happypants:

      Thanks for the compliments Clare! What a confidence booster!

      I’m sorry it took me so long to reply. I did get a printout of your comment from G.R. though.

      This is my very first attempt at writing fiction. I’ve written poetry over the years but have never persued publication.

      I really appreciate your input. VERY helpful! I’m going to take you up on the offer of a full critique. I’ve changed it a little bit even before I read your comment, but it’s still about the same size. I’ll get the slightly revised version to G.R. asap!

      Again, THANK YOU!

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