a new prologue to my book (709 words)

[fishii]

I have been working hard to make my prologue really perfect before beginning on chapter rewrites.

don't be afraid to tear the piece apart. I would apprieciate that.

~~~~

My parents named me Melinda because of a T.V. show. The chief named me Maritza because of my parents.

I stand here now on my tenth birthday using my parents money to fund the building of an orphanage. I think because of my parents I’ll name it the Straye Family Orphanage.

Strange thing for a ten year old to do, huh? Well it “helps me cope” so that I won’t have to go to that dumb psychiatrist any more. Every week he asks me stupid questions like ‘how are you dealing with it today,’ and ‘how do you feel today?’ Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel about his quack service, but not today.

The crowd gathered in front of me calls out, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

I hold up my hand. The crowd slowly notices my signal and falls silent. It’s time to wow them with my powers of memory and speech making.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…” I pause as they laugh at my joke, “sorry, honored guests, my name as you all know by the signs is Maritza Ranchi. I was born like all of you in a family with a mom and a dad. However unlike most of you I was not always named what I am today. I was once named Melinda Straye and my parents John and Maritza Straye died in a fire when I was eighteen months old…” at this point I stop for the crowd who began to chatter about what a ’poor girl’ I am. I hold up my hand for silence.

“People please, I know that it is difficult for anyone to lose their parents. You might think that at that young, they wouldn’t even remember them. Usually that would be true. Most people don’t remember anything from before they turned two. I am not like most people in regards to memory, as I can remember everything. Allow me to tell you what happened.

“I was in the kitchen of our small three bedroom cottage by the woods. It was early and my mom was going to fix me breakfast. She danced around the kitchen singing ‘Do re mi’ from the Sound of Music. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her hair was like golden silk. Her song was interrupted when my dad yelled for her to take me and go.

“She picked me up and I grabbed my teddy bear as she carried me outside. My five year old cousin was playing ball with my dog Jade in the backyard.

“‘Sarah watch her. Don’t let her back inside until I say so,’ my mom told her before going back inside.

“Sarah sat down beside me and I showed her how I could make Smokie, my bear, dance like my mom. It was fun until I hear my mom scream from inside.

“’Aunt Maritza!’ Sarah screamed.

“’Mawah! Mawah! Sarwah where mawah?’ I asked her.

“She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Mawah is inside.’ She picked me up and carried me toward the woods. I kicked her and cried. I tried to get away, to go back and find my mom. ‘Stop it Melinda, your mom doesn’t want you inside,’ Sarah told me and we sat at the edge of the woods.

“I stared straight at my house as a tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril snaked its way across the back porch, from that tendril many others stole their way up the back toward the roof. Pretty soon the whole house was engulfed.

“Sarah was devastated and I cried. It was a terrible day for my family,” I stop talking and look over the crowd at a sign being held up for me to see.

“It appears that it is time to cut the ribbon and declare the orphanage open!” I say as I snap the ribbon with the extra large scissors. The crowd cheers and I slip away toward the sign while they are distracted.

Papa and Sarah are here to walk me home. We are leaving as I turn and watch the orphans enter the building. I smile, I don’t know how bad my life is going to turn out and at this point I don’t care.

[BlakkrDraumr]

I gave it a quick scan before going into it, but before I do any of that here's something you may want to think about:
I just want to make sure that this is a ten year old you're talking about, right? It seems to me like it is using a lot of adult language and concepts despite the first person perspective.

If this is a story about a genius-child, then I would consider trying to clue the reader in on that real quick, otherwise it may just throw the reader off, as it did to me.

Another thing you could do, is have the prologue be told from a different perspective or POV, so it can explained clearer.

Also, as a critic, it would be helpful to know the general premise of your book. Is it a child genius? Or does the story start when it is all grown up? Some background in general would help since this is a prologue and not part of the main body of work.

[fishii]

interesting, yes she is really smart but the story mostly takes place when she is older. the actual story starts around the time she is 15.

The general thing within the story is that there is a serial killer on the lose. He works for death.

She works for the gods and is the only person who could stop the killer. Since the book is in a more modern setting, she has to stop him while remaining within the boundaries of the law. (Having Zeus as your employer doesn't really help you convince the police that you're not insane.)

[Bowler1]

I read your dream scene yesterday which was difficult; it is now clear you were writing that as a dream. This section posted was good. It was also clear and easy to follow. There will be other members that will do far better than I could at correcting any errors but I did find one line I did not like.

You might think that at that young, they wouldn’t even remember them – Very clunky and had me going back to re-read.

The character felt older than 10, not too much of a problem. Possibly adding a few years on to her for the prologue at this point won’t harm your story at all and keep the reader with you.

It felt a bit like telling and lacked emotion, however it was a speech so I suspect you did not write the section with thoughts etc. I think it is a good prologue, there is nothing in there that I did not like and I would carry on for a few pages more. I think what I’m trying to say is that I never got any feel of the main character, and she does seem to be the focus of your story from your answer above. However, you got the start of your story across clearly which was good.

[springs]

My parents named me Melinda because of a T.V. show. The chief named me Maritza because of my parents.

I stand here now on my tenth birthday using my parents money to fund the building of an orphanage. I think because of my parents I’ll name it the Straye Family Orphanage. Hi fishii, much clearer than the last time, a little bit of info here that drops in the back story. You asked about showing/telling, this bit is possibly an eg so;

I walk up to the building site where the orphanage I'm funding will be built.
"What will you name it?" asked my counsellor.
"The Straye Family Orphanage."
"For your parents? That's nice."
The first digger cuts into the ground.

I'm not saying that's what you want here, I don't think you do, it's a reflective prologue, but that's an eg of one way you could show it.

Strange thing for a ten year old to do, huh? Well it “helps me cope” so that I won’t have to go to that dumb psychiatrist any more. Every week he asks me stupid questions like ‘how are you dealing with it today,’ and ‘how do you feel today?’ Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel about his quack service, but not today.

The crowd gathered in front of me calls out, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

I hold up my hand. The crowd slowly notices my signal and falls silent. It’s time to wow them with my powers of memory and speech making.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…” I pause as they laugh at my joke, “sorry, honored guests, my name as you all know by the signs is Maritza Ranchi. I was born like all of you in a family with a mom and a dad. However unlike most of you I was not always named what I am today. I was once named Melinda Straye and my parents John and Maritza Straye died in a fire when I was eighteen months old…” at this point I stop for the crowd who began to chatter about what a ’poor girl’ I am. I hold up my hand for silence.this is a little like info dump as dialogue. but you have broken it up with the crowd's actions so there is a sense of showing in there too.

“People please, I know that it is difficult for anyone to lose their parents. You might think that at that young, they wouldn’t even remember them. Usually that would be true. Most people don’t remember anything from before they turned two. I am not like most people in regards to memory, as I can remember everything. Allow me to tell you what happened.
so where's the crowd? Any general mumble of agreeemnt, a sense they've been looking forward to this, that they're agog to hear what finally happened?
“I was in the kitchen of our small three bedroom3 bedroom? sounds reasonably sized cottage by the woods. It was early and my mom was going to fix me breakfast. She danced around the kitchen singing ‘Do re mi’ from the Sound of Music. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her hair was like golden silk. Her song was interrupted when my dad yelled for her to take me and go.

“She picked me up and I grabbed my teddy bear as she carried me outside. My five year old cousin was playing ball with my dog Jade in the backyard.

“‘Sarah watch her. Don’t let her back inside until I say so,’ my mom told her before going back inside.

“Sarah sat down beside me and I showed her how I could make Smokie, my bear, dance like my mom. It was fun until I hear my mom scream from inside.

“’Aunt Maritza!’ Sarah screamed.

“’Mawah! Mawah! Sarwah where mawah?’ I asked her.

“She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Mawah is inside.’ She picked me up and carried me toward the woods. I kicked her and cried. I tried to get away, to go back and find my mom. ‘Stop it Melinda, your mom doesn’t want you inside,’ Sarah told me and we sat at the edge of the woods. you have urgency in this paragraph, the short sentences, the breathless running on into the dialogue - normally that woudl be a new para, but I think it kind of works here.

“I stared straight at my house as a tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril snaked its way across the back porch, from that tendril many others stole their way up the back toward the roof. Pretty soon the whole house was engulfed. but here you lose it a bit. "I stared at my house. A tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril snaked across the back porch. From that one, the fire took. It went all the way up the back, to the roof. And then, the whole house went up." ? not sure, but I've shortened the sentences. Also, maybe use a lick instead of one of the tendrils, or a tongue? Tendrils a lazy sounding, ominous word, lick or flash might be quicker? feel free to ignore all this.

“Sarah was devastated and I cried. It was a terrible day for my family,” I stop talking and look over the crowd at a sign being held up for me to see.

“It appears that it is time to cut the ribbon and declare the orphanage open!” I say as I snap the ribbon with the extra large scissors. The crowd cheers and I slip away toward the sign while they are distracted.

Papa and Sarah are here to walk me home. We are leaving as I turn and watch the orphans enter the building. I smile, I don’t know how bad my life is going to turn out and at this point I don’t care.[/QUOTE]

Fishii, I thought it was much, much better; it drew me in, the voice was clearer, and it set your story out much more effectively. I've made a couple of comments above, but they're mostly stuff I know from your other posts you're playing around with. i didn't have a problem with the older voice, she's had a hell of an experience, she's still in counselling, I thought it kind of suited her.

[Abernovo]

Originally Posted by fishii

I have been working hard to make my prologue really perfect before beginning on chapter rewrites.

don't be afraid to tear the piece apart. I would apprieciate that.

~~~~

My parents named me Melinda because of a T.V. show. The chief named me Maritza because of my parents.

I stand here now on my tenth birthday using my parents money to fund the building of an orphanage. I think because of my parents I’ll name it the Straye Family Orphanage.

Strange thing for a ten year old to do, huh? Well it “helps me cope” so that I won’t have to go to that dumb psychiatrist any more. Every week he asks me stupid questions like ‘how are you dealing with it today,’ and ‘how do you feel today?’ Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel about his quack service, but not today.

The crowd gathered in front of me calls out, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

I hold up my hand. The crowd slowly notices my signal and falls silent. It’s time to wow them with my powers of memory and speech making.(You could probably remove the red highlighted words above. In the last sentence, perhaps 'public speaking' would be better than the words 'speech making' but, if I'm honest, I might chop the sentence off after 'wow them'.)

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…” I pause as they laugh at my joke, “sorry, honored guests, my name as you all know by the signs is Maritza Ranchi. I was born like all of you in a family with a mom and a dad. However unlike most of you I was not always named what I am today. I was once named Melinda Straye and (would 'but' be better here than 'and'?) my parents John and Maritza Straye died in a fire when I was eighteen months old…” at this point I stop for the crowd who began to chatter about what a ’poor girl’ I am. I hold up my hand for silence. (A repeat of 'I hold up my hand'. Perhaps you could add the word 'again', or Maritza could simply wait for silence.)

“People please, I know that it is difficult for anyone to lose their parents. You might think that at that((comma) so) young, they wouldn’t even remember them. Usually that would be true. Most people don’t remember anything from before they turned two.This might be a British English thing, but I think it would be more correct as: 'Most people remember nothing before the age of two years old.) I am not like most people in regards to memory, as I can remember everything. Allow me to tell you what happened.

“I was in the kitchen of our small three bedroom cottage by the woods. It was early and my mom was going to fix me breakfast. She danced around the kitchen singing ‘Do re mi’ from the Sound of Music. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her hair was like golden silk. Her song was interrupted when my dad yelled for her to take me and go.

“She picked me up and I grabbed my teddy bear as she carried me outside. My five year old cousin was playing ball with my dog(comma) Jade(comma) in the backyard.

“‘Sarah watch her. Don’t let her back inside until I say so,’ my mom told her before going back inside.

“Sarah sat down beside me and I showed her how I could make Smokie, my bear, dance like my mom. It was fun until I hear(d) my mom scream from inside. (I think you could end the sentence at the word 'scream')

“’Aunt Maritza!’ Sarah screamed.

“’Mawah! Mawah! Sarwah where mawah?’ I asked her.

“She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Mawah is inside.’ (Again, I think this sentence is unnecessary - and if Sarah lifts the child without speaking, it perhaps adds more emotional content to the action.) She picked me up and carried me toward the woods. I kicked her and cried. I tried to get away, to go back and find my mom. ‘Stop it Melinda, your mom doesn’t want you inside,’ Sarah told me and we sat at the edge of the woods.

“I stared straight at my house as a tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril (A repeat of 'tendril') snaked its way across the back porch, from that tendril (And again 'tendril') many others stole their way up the back toward the roof. Pretty soon the whole house was engulfed.

“Sarah was devastated and I cried.(Sorry, but I just don't like this sentence. You could remove it completely, making the following sentence a flat, despairing statement on its own. Alternatively, you could put more emotion into it, describing the lack of understanding, the devastation etc.) It was a terrible day for my family,” I stop talking and look over the crowd at a sign being held up for me to see.

“It appears that it is time to cut the ribbon and declare the orphanage open!” I say as I snap the ribbon with the extra large scissors. The crowd cheers and I slip away toward the sign while they are distracted.

Papa and Sarah are here to walk me home. We are leaving as I turn and watch the orphans enter the building. I smile, I don’t know how bad my life is going to turn out and at this point I don’t care.(For me, this last sentence should be the draw, pulling you into reading more. Perhaps: 'I have no idea what is about to happen' would work better here?)

Hi, fishii,

I liked this. You've got good imagery and characterisation. As I've said before, I dislike Present Tense, but that's just me. Again, a bit of tightening required, but no massive problems.

Like Bowler, I don't get the impression of a ten year-old giving a speech at a building opening. Either she's a child prodigy or she should perhaps be a little older. The only other (minor) thing I noticed was an overuse of what I would call compound sentences, using the word 'and'. They are fine on their own, but when you have two or more compound sentences like that close together, or in series, I find it a little choppy to read.

As before, I've used
RED for anything I thought was an issue;
BLUE for my suggestions; and
PINK for thoughts.

All in all, though, I liked it, found it easy to follow and was intrigued by what was going to happen next.

Good luck and keep on writing.

[Glitch]

As others have said I did feel the voice in this scene was older than ten. I would have guessed at early twenties.

The memories you describe seem to vivid for eighteen months old. I note that the character does make reference to her good memory, but personally I think memories like what you are describing are better done with sights, sounds, smells and emotions. Feel the heat, smell the burning, see the glow of the flames rather than describe each tendril.

Get some more viewpoints on the memory recall. I might be the only one who feels this way about it.

[fishii]

I did a rewrite shortly after I posted this because of some help I got on another site, you might want to see it.

My parents named me Melinda because of a T.V. show and not that the chief has anything against that T.V. show but he changed it to Maritza, because of my parents.

I stand here now on my tenth birthday using my parents money to fund the building of an orphanage. In their honor I’ll name it the Straye Family Orphanage.

Strange thing for a ten year old to do, huh? Well it ‘helps me cope’ so that I won’t have to go to that dumb psychiatrist any more. Every week he asks me stupid questions like ‘how are you dealing with it today,’ and ‘how do you feel today?’ Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel about his quack service, but not today.

The crowd gathered in front of me calls out, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

I hold up my hand. The crowd slowly notices my signal and falls silent. It’s time to wow them with my powers of memory and speech making, though I don't like speeches.

“Ladies 7and gentlemen of the jury…” I pause as they laugh at my joke, “sorry, honored guests, my name as you all know by the signs is Maritza Ranchi. I was born like all of you in a family with a mom and a dad. However unlike most of you I was not always named what I am today. I was once named Melinda Straye and my parents John and Maritza Straye died in a fire when I was eighteen months old…” at this point I stop for the crowd who began to chatter about what a ’poor girl’ I am. I wait for silence.

“People please, I know that it is difficult for anyone to lose their parents. You might think that at that young, they wouldn’t even remember them. Usually that would be true. Most people don’t remember anything from before they turned two. I am not like most people in regards to memory, as I can remember everything. Allow me to tell you what happened.

“I was in the kitchen of our small three bedroom cottage by the woods. It was early and my mom was going to fix me breakfast. She danced around the kitchen singing ‘Do re mi’ from the Sound of Music. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her hair was like golden silk. Her song was interrupted when my dad yelled for her to take me and go.

“She picked me up and I grabbed my teddy bear as she carried me outside. My five year old cousin was playing ball with my dog Jade in the backyard.

“‘Sarah watch her. Don’t let her back inside until I say so,’ my mom told her before going back inside.

“Sarah sat down beside me and I showed her how I could make Smokie, my bear, dance like my mom. It was fun until I hear my mom scream from inside.

“’Aunt Maritza!’ Sarah screamed.

“’Mawah! Mawah! Sarwah where mawah?’ I asked her.

“She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Mawah is inside.’ She picked me up and carried me toward the woods. I kicked her and cried. I tried to get away, to go back and find my mom. ‘Stop it Melinda, your mom doesn’t want you inside,’ Sarah told me and we sat at the edge of the woods.

“I stared straight at my house as a tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril snaked its way across the back porch, from that tendril many others stole their way up the back toward the roof. I was glad we were not any closer to the house, it was hot enough where we were. There was a cracking sound. ’Sarwah, do you hear that?’ I asked her. She looked at me. The cracking got louder until there was a loud bang, louder than a shotgun going off. The glass from the windows exploded outwards. The heat was intolerable, almost as though someone had taken a thermostat and turned it up to ’super volcano.’

“Sarah screamed, ’Aunt Maritza no!’ with tears choking through her voice. I did what every normal baby does, cried. It was a terrible day for my family,” I stop talking and look over the crowd at a sign being held up for me to see.

“It appears that it is time to cut the ribbon and declare the orphanage open!” I say as I snap the ribbon with the extra large scissors. The crowd cheers and I slip away toward the sign while they are distracted.

Papa and Sarah are here to walk me home. Sarah turns toward me, “So how’d it go?”

“Good, I still wonder though, if it’s natural.”

“If what’s natural?”

“Your hair. It’s so purple.” I laugh as she tries to swat me and I turn to watch the orphans enter their new home. “Papa, piggy back ride please,” I run around in front of papa.

“Okay,” he stops in front of me and pulls me up on his broad shoulders. I don’t know how bad my life is going to turn out. If someone came up to me right now and told me, I wouldn’t even care.

[Glitch]

I would say this reads better than the first. I can see that you have made good effort to use the other senses when describing the memory.

The main character seems inconsistent, ignoring the age and flash back for a moment. At the start you present a mature character who is well aware of her place in the world. At the end the character seems to have become younger. Forgetting her advanced sense of self, and not caring about her place in the world.

That aside I still have an issue with the characters age. Granted you have things in fantasy and science fiction which are require the reader to suspend their disbelief. Magic, aliens and faster than light travel don't exist in our world, but readers of these genres want to believe in such things.

We were all once babies and children, and have all probably interacted with them in our adult lives. Maybe this is why it's hard for me to believe in your premise.

You mention about children not being able to recall memories prior to two years old. This is good, it suggests you have done some research, or at least looked up wikipedia.

When I did some searching on the subject, the following paragraphs stood out -

From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Childhood_amnesia

Research suggests that until around the age of 4, children are unable to form context-rich memories. They are unable to remember the source for given information because their prefrontal cortex is underdeveloped. Adults can access fragment memories (isolated moments without context, often remembered as images, behaviors, or emotions) from around age 3.5, whereas event memories are usually from around six months later.

From http://www.ababasoft.com/games/eidetic05.htm

The rare few who retain it as adults generally live confused, unhappy lives with failed relationships.

Do you have specific reasons for the character to be aged 18 months and 10?

[Dermit]

Chiming in to say this voice really didn't sound anywhere near a ten year old to me. If, as you mentioned, it's more of a flashback from when she's older, I've got no problem with that. Just make it clearer from the getgo, so I'm not thinking "nooooope" as I'm reading

[fishii]

Originally Posted by Glitch

I would say this reads better than the first. I can see that you have made good effort to use the other senses when describing the memory.

The main character seems inconsistent, ignoring the age and flash back for a moment. At the start you present a mature character who is well aware of her place in the world. At the end the character seems to have become younger. Forgetting her advanced sense of self, and not caring about her place in the world.

That aside I still have an issue with the characters age. Granted you have things in fantasy and science fiction which are require the reader to suspend their disbelief. Magic, aliens and faster than light travel don't exist in our world, but readers of these genres want to believe in such things.

We were all once babies and children, and have all probably interacted with them in our adult lives. Maybe this is why it's hard for me to believe in your premise.

You mention about children not being able to recall memories prior to two years old. This is good, it suggests you have done some research, or at least looked up wikipedia.

When I did some searching on the subject, the following paragraphs stood out -

From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Childhood_amnesia


From http://www.ababasoft.com/games/eidetic05.htm


Do you have specific reasons for the character to be aged 18 months and 10?

18 months old just popped into my head a long time ago when I first started writing the story. read on for an explanation of age ten.

Originally Posted by Dermit

Chiming in to say this voice really didn't sound anywhere near a ten year old to me. If, as you mentioned, it's more of a flashback from when she's older, I've got no problem with that. Just make it clearer from the getgo, so I'm not thinking "nooooope" as I'm reading

At first Ten made sense to me because I was going to have her start high school that young but now I have been thinking about making her 15 or 16. but the the piggy back ride would be impractical unless he responded with "You're getting too old for that."

She is already short though. So maybe that would justify the piggy back ride.

[Interference]

I like the re-write, but I also liked the original. You seem to have managed to create atmosphere very quickly, which I admire in good writing. The "adult language" helps, for me, to create this. The almost song-like manner of speech comes across to me, like a descending cadence, a matter-of-fact re-telling of what seems to her audience should be a horrendous tale, but to her seems almost every-day.

A certain amount of disrespect for her audience also comes across quite clearly. I hope this is what you intend, but if not then it's in the holding up of her hand whenever she wants them to shut up and in the absence of any description of her own attitude - is she smiling, frowning, or (as I picture it) almost dead-pan and unemotional.

I may, of course, have got completely the wrong end of the stick, in which case I really enjoyed reading what I thought I was reading


As ever, these comments are made with only respect for the work you have done and the talent you have brought to the work so far.

[fishii]

Thanks interference.

I can see your point and I don't know if that's what I wanted when i first wrote this but it works with her character. She (I am going to make her 15 now. I know that for sure.) is missing her opening day performance because they refused to reschedule this little ceremony. She is quite upset about that.

[Challah Rajni]

My parents named me Melinda because of a T.V. show and not that the [The sentence reads oddly and though I get your idea, the words could flow much better. Start a new sentence. “The chief changed my name to Maritza, not because he had anything against the show. He changed it because of my parents.”] chief has anything against that T.V. show but he changed it to Maritza, because of my parents.*

I stand here now on my tenth birthday using my parents['] money to fund the building of an orphanage. In their honor I’ll name it the Straye Family Orphanage.*

Strange thing for a ten year old to do, huh? Well it ‘helps me cope’ so that I won’t have to go to that dumb psychiatrist any more. Every week he asks me stupid questions like ‘how are you dealing with it today,’ and ‘how do you feel today?’ Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel about his quack service, but not today.

The crowd gathered in front of me calls out, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”*

I hold up my hand. The crowd slowly notices my signal and falls silent. It’s time to wow them with my powers of memory and speech making, though I don't like speeches [Use this for punchier, stronger effect. “I don't like speeches”].

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…” I pause as they laugh at my joke, [You can cut this. We know it's a joke, though I must confess, not the funniest one.] “sorry, honored guests, my name as you all know by the signs [You won't lose anything from cutting this line. And the sentence will flow better] is Maritza Ranchi. I was born like all of you in a family with a mom and a dad [Consider this: “Just like you, I had a mom and dad]. However unlike most of you I was not always named what I am today. I was once named Melinda Straye and my [My] parents[,] John and Maritza Straye[,] died in a fire when I was eighteen months old…” at this point I stop for the crowd who began to chatter about what a ’poor girl’ I am. I wait for silence.

“People please, I know that it is difficult for anyone to lose their parents. You might think that at that young, they wouldn’t even remember them. Usually that would be true. Most people don’t remember anything from before they turned two. I am not like most people in regards to memory, [Cut. It really, really doesn't fit the tone of a ten year-old] as I can [Killing “can” makes this sound that much stronger.] remember everything. Allow me to tell you what happened.

“I was in the kitchen of our small three bedroom [Cut. Sounds forced and too adult: too much like a real estate ad] by the woods. It was early and my mom was going to fix me breakfast. She danced around the kitchen singing ‘Do re mi’ from the Sound of Music. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her hair was like golden silk [This sounds more like the voice of the writer than the character. Reword or cut. The character up until now seemed cold and tough. Do you want the character to soften up bit when talking about mother? Will you use this momentary softness later on? If so then use: Her voice was very beautiful. It made me think about sweet things. It sounded like home.”]. Her song was interrupted when my dad yelled for [at] her to take me and go.*

“She picked me up[,] and I grabbed my*teddy bear*as she carried me outside. My five year old cousin was playing ball with my dog[.] Jade[.] in the backyard.*

“‘Sarah watch her. Don’t let her back inside until I say so,’ my mom told her before going back inside.

“Sarah sat down beside me and I showed her how I could make Smokie, my bear, dance like my mom. It was [We were having fun] until I hear[d] my mom scream from inside.

“’Aunt Maritza!’ Sarah screamed.

“’Mawah! Mawah! Sarwah where mawah?’ I asked her [I don't think you have to have Maritza sound as if she was a toddler. For me, this did more to confuse me than to build up sympathy and emotion].

“She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Mawah is inside.’ She picked me up and carried me toward the woods. I kicked her and cried. I tried to get away, to go back and find my mom. ‘Stop it Melinda, your mom doesn’t want you inside,’ Sarah told me and we sat at the edge of the woods.*

“I stared straight at my house as a tendril of flame licked its way up the side. Another tendril snaked its way across the back porch, from that tendril many others stole their way up the back toward the roof. [Too many tendrils...] I was glad we were not any closer to the house, it was hot enough where we were [This line strikes me as frighteningly cold because it reads like Maritza is really detached from the situation]. There was a cracking sound. ’Sarwah, do you hear that?’ I asked her. She looked at me. The cracking got louder until there was a loud bang, louder than a shotgun going off [Cut]. The glass from the windows exploded outwards [Cut]. The heat was intolerable, almost as though someone had taken a thermostat and turned it up to ’super volcano.’[Cut]*

“Sarah screamed, ’Aunt Maritza no!’ with tears choking through her voice. I did what every normal baby does, cried. It was a terrible day for my family,” I stop talking and look over the crowd at a sign being held up for me to see.*

“It appears that it is [Sounds to adult. Use: "It looks like it's"] time to cut the ribbon and declare the orphanage open!” I say as I snap the ribbon with the extra large scissors. The crowd cheers and I slip away toward the sign while they are distracted.*

Papa and Sarah are here to walk me home. Sarah turns toward me, “So how’d it go?”

“Good, I still wonder though, if it’s natural.”

“If what’s natural?”

“Your hair. It’s so purple.” I laugh as she tries to swat me and I turn to watch the orphans enter their new home. “Papa, piggy back ride please,” I run around in front of papa.

“Okay,” he stops in front of me and pulls me up on his broad shoulders. I don’t know how bad my life is going to turn out. If someone came up to me right now and told me, I wouldn’t even care.

I have to agree with everyone here. This isn't the voice of a ten year old. The diction of the child speaker just doesn't sit well with me. Even if she is a genius, she's still growing into her language. We should feel that in the words. You have to take a hard look at the more descriptive parts of the writing and really think about how your character would think it and say it. As is, I'm still having trouble suspending my disbelief.

This version does a better job of keeping my attention through the speech. Though I audience needs to react more realistically to her unfinished speech. She didn't conclude it properly, she didn't give a message. She just ended it. There should have at least been an awkward moment of silence.

I need something more extraordinary to go along with a ten year old addressing and audience as if she were an orator. And I needed it to come out somewhere in that intro.

After hearing about the ideas you have in mind, I feel your intro doesn't do the wildness of your ideas justice. Aside from the character being precocious, there wasn't much hinting at the world at work in this story. A sister with purple hair isn't enough. You can still establish character and set the tone and have those be the main focus, but don't be shy about letting more of that imaginative world sneak into the beginning of the tale.

[fishii]

I am going to rework this a few paragraphs at a time.

1st three


They often say that those who don’t learn their history are doomed to repeat it. Little do I know how true that is.

Okay, it began yesterday on my 15th birthday. I was forced to attend the open ceremony of an orphanage that I was funding. Let’s go back shall we?

I walked up the stairs on to the stage. The pictures of myself all over the place unnerved me. I would have been happy if those pictures were for my opening night performance, but no. They wouldn’t reschedule this for that. I should have been at school right then. They tell me I have to give a speech.