Hey there, I'm new here, and have been looking for a new place to post my (very basic and not exactly excellent) writing, ever since I got kicked off the BBC Blast website for repeatedly breaking the House Rules (they didn't seem to think my writing was appropriate for all readers), and a friend told me about this site.
Okay, I'll shut up now, and let my writing do the talking :)
Ellenn x
(This is just the beginning so you can get an idea of my writing, I may post a little more at a later date, depending on the type of reaction I get. Please, comment and constructively criticise as much as possible.) I could feel the tension the moment I walked into the room. If I'd have wanted, I could have cut it with a knife. As it was, I preferred the silence. In fact, anything had to be better than the alternative. After a quick glance at the expectant faces sat around the kitchen table, I knew that this would not be a pleasant meal.
Dad looked pointedly at the empty chair at the foot of the table, and I sat.
"Nice of you to join us, Alice," he remarked icily, shovelling peas onto his fork and down his throat.
My look of disgust was greeted by my brother's toothy grin as he copied Dad. Next to Callum sat Carly, his twin sister and partner in crime. Seeing him wolf down his carrots like a wild animal encouraged her to do the same.
I turned my attention to the people sat on my right. Little Norah with her pinched, pale face sat there, chewing her pork chops stolidly as she picked at the sleeves of her grubby red cardigan. Beside her, sat her mother, Dad's latest girlfriend; pathetic, boring, plain Jane. A common name for a common slut.
She looked up briefly as I thought this, and when she saw my dinner was still untouched, she tutted loudly and set down her knife and fork. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth lightly, sighing heavily. I rolled my eyes dramatically and pushed my plate away.
"Now, now, Alice," she trilled, "Don't be a silly little girl, eat your food."
Dad looked at her adoringly and stroked her leg lovingly. She blushed and giggled loudly, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on his gravy smothered lips.
I concentrated on the mustard yellow wall opposite me, willing it to swallow me up, to offer me an escape from this dreary, monotonous life I was trapped in, to douse colour into my black and white world.
Callum and Carly reacted to the disgusting display of affection instantly, both knowing what the other was about to do. They mimed vomiting into their Yorkshire puddings in unison, before deciding it would be more fun to flick sweetcorn at each other, screeching "Bombs away!"
Norah simply ignored everything going on around her, and instead focussed on cutting her roast potatoes into tiny chunks, chewing them absent-mindedly with her mouth open, staring into space, as she always did.
I looked down at the mountain of food piled high on my plate. Any other person would have seen the soft, shiny boiled potatoes, the bright colourful, peas, carrots and sweetcorn, the perfectly browned roast potatoes, the melt in your mouth, home made Yorkshire puddings, and the tender, succulent pork chops, all arranged attractively on a hand painted china plate, drenched in gravy.
All I saw was the carbohydrates, the fats and the sugars. I saw the calories.
I saw the calories, and I did the only thing I could think to do. I saw the calories and I ran.|
Blastie!!! Woo
Written by jammycarrot (50 comments posted) 9th January 2008 | Well hello there fellow ex-blastie! Welcome to the GW!
I believe i read this on blast (weren't you part of a great double act on the message boards???)
I liked that piece then and i like the altering you've done to it. Bit unsure about the 5th from last paragraph. It seems very awkward, and although says alot about them, is slightly below the standard of the rest of the sotry...
But i want to read more....carry on!!
Jam |
Written by bluecity (377 comments posted) 11th January 2008 | Interesting beginning. Full of atmosphere! You certainly could cut it with a knife.
You've described your characters very effectively (although I do wonder about the wisdom of introducing them all at once!). Describing the family all in terms of the way they ate their food told us a great deal about them and about the mc all at the same time. Very skillful, so skillful, in fact, that I was made to feel that they were all disgusting. I particularly liked "leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on his gravy smothered lips." (It's a shame I didn't have a web cam so that you could've seen me wretch as I read this bit.)
Your ending's excellent, by the way. You led up to it well, but it still drew an effective line under the chapter.
Can't see what's wrong with the fifth from last chapter myself!
Well done! Looking forward to the next!
Rosemary
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Written by TheLostProphet (1 comments posted) 22nd January 2008 |  Thanks so much for the positive comments, I'm thrilled 
Okay, one question, do I post the next part of this as a reply, or do I start a new discussion kind of thing? I'm not exactly sure of the allowed length of a reply you see.. 
I'll try posting it here, and see if it lets mee..
*
I had locked myself in the bedroom I shared with Carly after the disastrous family meal. I lay sprawled on my bed; picking at the dog eared corners of the Leonardo Di Caprio posters I had tacked to my ceiling years ago, before anyone dared to approach me. When I heard the soft knock on the closed bedroom door, I shut my eyes tightly, and let my hand slowly fall back down to my side. I heard someone press their weight against the door to break the feeble old lock, and the door creak open. Heavy footsteps crossed the room, gingerly stepping over Carly’s ‘inventions’, which tended to be as dangerous as Carly herself.
I felt the end of my bed sink under a sudden addition of weight, and a large, gentle hand on my shoulder. I shuddered at the unwanted and unexpected touch, shrugging my arm away.
“Gerroff!” I muttered under my breath, turning to face the wall.
The hand left my shoulder and rested on my back.
“Alice…” Dad began, “Alice, darling, you can’t keep shutting us out, we have to talk sooner or later.”
I ignored him and stared intently at the flaky pink wall in front of me, wishing he would take his hand from my back and leave me alone.
“Alice!” I could hear the annoyance in his voice now, and I knew it would not be long before he snapped, “Don’t be so bloody childish!”
Still I ignored him.
I lowered my eyes and studied the old faded pattern on my duvet, tracing the outlines of the William Morris based flowery design with my short stubby fingers, humming just loudly enough to block out Dad’s voice.
I knew his temper was rising, and I could hear the building anger in his voice.
“Alice Jackson, do not test my patience!” he said quietly, his voice shaky, “I am trying to understand, but if we don’t talk to each other…”
His voice trailed off, and I hoped for a few seconds that he would withdraw from my room, and that would be the end of it all; he would leave, and would never try to talk to me again. How I wished for that to be the case. How I wished we could go back to how we were before Mum had left. How I wished he would just leave me alone and go downstairs to his precious Jane and her Princess Norah.
“I did not raise you to behave like this!” he hissed into my ear, snatching fistfuls of my long brown hair, “I expect you to be a well behaved, respectful young woman, not this pathetic, insolent brat you’ve become!”
The wall now seemed more attractive; if I tilted my head to the side slightly, and screwed up my eyes, the plasterboard beneath the paint looked like bright, intricate patterns, deliberately inked over the paint to make the room more aesthetically pleasing.
“I am going to count to three,” he said nastily, “And if you do not attempt to talk to me, you will wish you had never, been, born!”
I counted to three in my head, wincing slightly as I reached two and a half, preparing myself mentally for what was to come.
“DO NOT IGNORE ME!” he bellowed, wrenching my head backwards and slamming it against the wall.
Stars danced before my eyes, and through my tears, I saw the wall had returned to its normal, dilapidated, ugly state.
“You…Will…Learn…Respect…For…Me!” he spat, knocking my head on the wall as he paused for each breath.
I lay there, helpless, tears streaming silently down my cheeks, never uttering a word. He had to get bored soon; this type of thing never really went on for too long, he would normally be distracted, and leave, or get bored, and leave, destroying anything he could along the way.
“You disgust me,” he snarled, pulling me off the bed, still clutching my hair, “You useless, fat lump of a girl! You sicken me!”
Another cunning, underhand comment about my weight. He had to slip it in, didn’t he? He was ashamed of having a fat daughter, and for that, I would have to be punished. He did not seem to realise that it was he who had made me this way, it was he who had pushed me to the limit, and it was he who would be my eventual downfall.
In a sudden surge of irritation, I yanked my hair from his hands, and pulled my knees into my chest, in an attempt to protect myself. He watched me edging away from him, his dark eyes full of hatred and fury, never leaving my tear stained face. A sly smile danced across his lips and, kicking me one final time, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, smashing any obstacle that got in his way.
Clinging to the mattress for support, I gradually heaved myself back up onto the bed, and burrowed my face in my pillow. I was finally free to cry myself to sleep.
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Written by jammycarrot (50 comments posted) 1st February 2008 | Ellen.....post it on a new discussion, not only will you get more replies, but it makes it easier to comment on as well.....bit different from blast...
keep it up tho..:D |
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