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Reviewing Science Fiction

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message 1: by [deleted user] (new)

For science fiction writers.

message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

It had been a perfectly normal day. People woke, ate, went to work, school, college, all their own separate ways. Animals hunted and fed, replenishing their energy. The bees hummed, the flowers sucked up the sunlight, birds swooped down to snatch the occasional insect. The park was alive with people, the streets swarmed with cars, life bloomed everywhere.
That exact moment, forty-three minutes and eleven seconds after eight o'clock AM, it struck.
Waves of immense size, hundreds of feet tall, began to build, gradually gaining strength. A long, dark shadow hovered over the coasts. Finally, the tip of the wave began to slowly bend down, rapidly decreasing the distance between it and the ground.
Everything stopped. School children peeked outside the windows in awe, pedestrians peered up at the sky, all traffic halted to gaze at their horrible fate.
As the wave crashed into the land, buildings were crushed, cars swept away, people thrust into the current. In that first wave, many did not survive. Most, carried along the current, were thrust under and drowned under some massive beam that was once part of a skyscraper, or had been pushed into an object, such as a post or building that still managed to stand. Multiple waves ravaged the shores, pushing inward to those landlocked places, flooding everything in its path.
Then came the rain. Cold, stinging needles that bit and slapped, rapidly filling up the land. Those lonely survivors clung to bits of debris that swung and sloshed in the roiling water. The water growled and furiously swirled like a dangerous animal, bashing the people that clung to their lives so intently against anything that stood in its destructive path.
When every drop of water finally sank back into the oceans, when ever little rivulet and stream dried up to a mud-stained crust in the punishing sun, when ever sign of water had disappeared from the inhabited lands, one lone survivor was left.

Hey! Why the heck isn't anyone posting anything? Come on, ppl! post stuff! it's not that hard, just copy and paste....i want to read ur stories!!

message 3: by +Chaz (new)

+Chaz It’s good but maybe a little wordy in the first paragraph. I’m not an expert so take it with a grain of salt. Also, do you want feel good responses or honest evaluation? Most prefer feel good.


message 4: by [deleted user] (new)

i want honest evaluation. feel good responses are kind of worthless. and btw, waht does "take it with a grain of salt" mean?

message 5: by [deleted user] (new)

Eric felt the breeze chafe against his shirt, cooling his skin and letting him breathe fully. He closed his eyes, letting long lashes brush his cheeks. His hair hung back from his face, full lips opening to capture the wind.
He tiptoed towards the edge of the roof, balancing his body and feeling the weight of the drop below. With that, he bent his body forward and swung off the roof.
Hurtling through the air felt accelerating, like feeling a drum beat a perpetual beat into him, growing faster and faster. He smiled broadly, waiting for the exactly right moment. Suddenly, his wings snapped open from the slits in his shirt. Instantly, a strong buoyancy snatched him from freefall.
His wings clipped the air, swinging him from side to side. He bounced form side to side, banking sharply and landing with a sudden flutter.
He knew the shape, the form, the complexity of each feather. The firmness, the soft silkiness, the lustrous shape that symbolized strength and power. He had felt the sinuous muscles that attached the wings to his spine, the light weight of his new bones, the power of his black feathers. The sunlight seemed to flash and writhe as it began to sink back into the mountain, giving one last scream at the world. The sunlight highlighted Eric's skin, the color of caramel. His long midnight-black hair rippled in the breeze.
Now, only now, was he free. Not at school. Not at home. Not on the computer, or eating dinner with his father, or feeding Carlos kibbles. Not avoiding Ryan Nesserham or answering Mr. Robertson's persistent questions on history. Not writing essays for English. Not conjugating verbs in Spanish, or tending Mother's garden.
Now. At this time, this exact moment. Because now, at this time, he could fly as far as he wanted, how he wanted, and no one, not even his father, or Ryan Nesserham, or Mr. Robertson or even Carlos.
He could fly to Australia and be back in time for lunch. He could soar over a hundred feet without even losing his breath. He could bank as sharply as he wanted, do flips, even. Not even his failing grade in math could prevent him from this. Not the bruises Ryan Nesserham gave him. And definitely not Mr. Robertson's boring lecture.
He was truly, absolutely, and completely free.

Please say whether this sucks or not. I'm considering writing as my career, so negative feedback is probably going to alot more helpful. However, however much it inspires you, please do not cuss.

message 6: by Nikalina (new)

Nikalina | 6 comments well I love it!!!!!! You have talent Sarah!!!!!!!! I liked the beginning paragraph or so that described the hum of the life in the town. It was beautiful. I could imagine the birds, the traffic and the people!!!!!!!

Good job! I will post more later.. perhaps even a story of my own....

loved it!

message 7: by [deleted user] (new)

ooo i want to read ur stories!!!

message 8: by Nikalina (new)

Nikalina | 6 comments hahah.. thanks!!!! I am trying to post one now.. if I can find it.. =D

The story I might post is kinda the beginning to a book, but I had to mush it all up into a story for a writing course I took, so it's pretty rough. =)

message 9: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) Hey, don't think you know me (though you might recognize me from Victor's group, Darkened Fates) but I'll leave a review for your writing:

My apologies beforehand if I seem rude at any point--that wouldn't be my intention.

1st excerpt:

I agree with Charles about it sounding wordy in the first paragraph. Example: It wouldn't be necessary to say that eating replenishes energy--it's implied already.

Also, "Waves of immense size, hundreds of feet tall, began to build, gradually gaining strength." Immense size = hundreds of feet tall. The latter portion of the sentence could also be condensed. Possible revision: Waves towering at hundreds of feet began to gradually gain strength. (Note that that would also need a revision, but it serves to demonstrate cutting down on words.

What the above two examples would summarize to would be this: be succinct. You can still have vibrant descriptions with half the word count. Try to describe more with less.

Also, try not to be redundant. Some descriptions restate the same idea a few different ways, rather than expanding upon ideas and bringing more life to them.

2nd excerpt:

Again, verbosity.

Sentence structure is also very similar. (Excessive comma usage!) Try varying it a little, or else it can get boring. Some sentences were also fragments without the effect of placing emphasis on them--consider combining them or modifying them into full sentences.

Example: "Suddenly, his wings snapped open from the slits in his shirt. Instantly, a strong buoyancy snatched him from freefall." Both start with an adverb that mean around the same thing and then follow the same structure right after.

One the same note, some sentences don't need those commas. Example: "The sunlight highlighted Eric's skin, the color of caramel." It would easily be just as effective to say: "The sun highlighted his caramel skin."

On that same note of sunlight, when you first mention it, it seems rather random. Remember to keep continuity in a paragraph, or else it can be perplexing to follow through.

Long midnight black hair? For what reason does he have long hair when the general conformity at school would be for males to have short hair? (Something to consider.)

Also, wings aren't attached to the spine, let alone attached by muscles alone. >.< I'd look up more on that sort of anatomy if I were you.

A final note to consider: Try cutting down on adverb use. Everything in moderation, adverbs in particular. Adjectives and verbs can portray much sharper images than most adverbs, and excessive use of adverbs can make otherwise sophisticated writing sound juvenile. (The same applies to your first story.)


Check typos before posting work! There were some instances of form--from and the like.

Overall, I found them to be enjoyable short stories that could either remain a short story or be continued as part of a longer piece.

I particularly like the effect of the first story--the pace fits well, the immediacy and linear progression of everything leads to one final idea, the idea of being left completely alone in the world.

The second story seemed more disconnected to me. There were a lot of different concepts that you tried to fit into a certain number of paragraphs, and I think you could have either omitted some of them or elaborated on each of them separately.

If you pursue writing as a career, you definitely have a lot of potential. Best of luck to you, and I hope this helps. =)

message 10: by Aneesha (new)

Aneesha (saianeesha) | 1 comments wow! that's a lot of stuff!

message 11: by [deleted user] (new)

I'm sorry. I'm very redundant.

message 12: by [deleted user] (new)

(it did help. i'll think about the hints you've given me)

message 13: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) Don't need to apologize about anything. =P 'twas still an awesome piece of writing.

message 14: by [deleted user] (new)

Thanks. And do I get to read your writing--if you have any?

message 15: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) Sounds fair to me--I'll type up something and post it. =)

message 16: by [deleted user] (new)


message 17: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) (Am searching for a decent piece to type up right now. XD Sorry for the delay.)

message 18: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) I'll send it to you in a message. =P

message 19: by [deleted user] (new)

yay! and ur my friend too. yay!

message 20: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) ^-^


message 21: by Frances (new)

Frances (parentheticalnote) Posted some writing, although I don't think it'd fall in the 'sci-fi' category:

message 22: by [deleted user] (new)

Cathy panted and pumped her legs, trying to be faster. Come on, come on! she thought. She had to run faster. She brushed a slick strand of hair from her face and tried to breathe, to ease the burning in her chest. Her bookbag lay far behind, with her phone, iPod, anything that could save her.
But it would be too late before any help arrived. By the time help came, she would be gone.
Presumably dead.
A snarl broke out behind her. She risked a glance to see that the man was still following her--cold gray eyes and long black hair. His hook nose looked even thinner with his long hair flowing around his face. Cathy swept her head around and prepared to bound once more, but something caught her. She shrieked and fell to the ground, skinning her knee. Bits of gravel stuck to her skin until the skin broke, and dots of red blood appeared. A firm hand gripped her shirt. Rolling over, she saw the man standing over her, face fixed in a sneer.
She screamed, and everything went black.

Other peeps need to post...I don't want this group to die.

message 23: by Aaron (last edited Feb 07, 2009 10:01AM) (new)

Aaron Hoopes | 5 comments Pray for the Hunters

Location: Sydney Harbor, Australia

Dominic Tremas killed the engine and let the black van coast to a stop behind the abandoned warehouse at the edge of Sydney Harbor. A dense fog had rolled in and with it an underlying sense of unease for the men in the van. Barely discernable in the muted headlights the warehouse stood like a dinosaur carcass, a relic of less modern times. It was late, nearly midnight, a week since Dominic had first cased the warehouse. His employers had been adamant; they could wait no longer. The team would make their snatch tonight.

Dominic turned in the seat and looked at the other members of the squad. The group of high-tech mercenaries looked back at him with hardened faces that hid their trepidation well. They knew what they were hunting, and it was clear to them that one wrong move could mean a painful and violent death. Their employers had assured them of that. Now Dominic only wished he'd had more time to prepare.

When he'd first been approached to lead the squad, his reaction had been to laugh at the absurdity. Hunting werewolves! Give me a break, he had said to the scientist who had come to their first briefing.

Then they showed him the videotape and he quickly became a believer. The quality of the video was poor, and halfway through the angle changed as if the cameraman had fallen to the floor, which would be understandable given the actions of the subject he was filming. One moment the subject was a young man in jeans and a t-shirt, the next he was a hairy, six-foot monster with claws the size of a butcher knife and a gaping mouth full of jagged teeth. Sure, the video could have been faked using digital techniques available these days, but something told Dominic it was real. It was the feeling he got while watching the film, a feeling of...terror so powerful he nearly screamed.

Three of the men in the group had nearly gone into convulsions watching the tape, and Dominic himself felt his bladder muscles weaken, but he managed to control himself.

It turned out that his employers, a shadowy organization he had not managed to find much information about had captured a werewolf a few years ago. The genetic profile of the creature was so complex and bizarre and the possibilities for exploitation were so limitless that further study was demanded. So Dominic and his squad had been training in werewolf capture and control techniques for the past nine months. Then the order had come, only by studying a live specimen would the company be able to unravel the mysteries of these mutated creatures. Dominic and his team were assigned to capture a live werewolf. He had been sure they could do it.

Now, as he looked over the faces in the back of the van, Dominic hoped he was right.

Pray for the Hunters

Please vote and let me know what you think...

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