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Two Worlds

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Old 08-29-2013, 02:01 PM
CandyCane (Offline)
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Icon1 Two Worlds


Hi Everyone. this is the first MS ive managed to keep going with, i usually give up convincing myself its a heap of junk. i was hoping a bit of critique/feedback will help me keep going as i'm finding myself feeling the same. im mainly looking to find if it "hooks" you in. as an avid reader i know if those first couple of pages dont do the trick your not going to read to the exciting bit.

Two Worlds follow Tarinas earth shattering discovery that her life has been a complete lie. after her mother shatters every belief she has she discovers the truth. leaving the family and world she knows behind. the book follows her in the first person account of what comes next. two worlds encompasses many thing. the world she leaves behind and her struggle she has accepting the new one. her battle to find who she is and a battle with her preconceptions of sexual relationships. (there's no sexual content in this extract though.) this is the first draft as i find it easier to work ahead so i can read back with a fresh look so i apologies for spelling/grammer and the odd missed word. thank you in advance for any feedback giving, feel free to be harsh i want the truth not sugar coated words


TWO WORLDS



Chapter One


I stand watching her wondering how I should approach such a powerful woman. What I had to tell her would shatter the life she had to pieces. It had to be done carefully I had my orders. But how? If I failed the future of Veridon would be non-existent and she would be in danger. This would be so much easier if I didn’t feel a warmth deep inside that made me crave her body. Why couldn’t I have been her incubus instead of her guide?


As I stepped onto the street I raised my face glad of the warm sunshine and soft breeze running through my long hair. As the chestnut locks crossed my face I caught sight of the man I’d seen following me earlier. His olive skin and dark hair had caught my attention as I’d walked to work. He was gorgeous, but there was something different about him, something that made him the most beautiful man I’d ever seen yet somehow there was a familiarity I couldn’t understand. If I had met him before I would remember. As his dark eyes caught mine he turned and was gone as quick as I had blinked. I shook my head ridding it of the mustiness 8 hours inside an office created. The fog that told me he had vanished into thin air.
“Just your imagination” I told myself.

Walking back towards the small semi I lived in with my parents I tried to convince myself I was happy. A dead end job no man and arguing parents hadn’t been the life I had envisioned as a small child. I wanted to be someone, I wanted to do well in this world. Instead I spent my life inputting useless data into a computer for a wage I barley needed. I was capable of so much more, I wanted to help people, fall in love and live a life of happiness. It wasn’t that my parents supported me but rather I had nothing to spend my hard earned wages on. As a child I had always felt on the outside, during school that hadn’t posed a huge problem there was always other misfits to be with. Since making my own way in the world I found myself increasingly alone. I felt different to other people, yet I didn’t even understand why. I was intelligent and I thought fairly pretty yet it was as though I repelled people. I couldn’t form the close bonds of friendship others did. Maybe in part because I didn’t enjoy the things they did. Alcohol and partying held no appeal, getting drunk and making an idiot of myself seemed too immature. Maybe that was the problem...I was old before my years.

I felt like I was even disconnecting from my parents. Not that they were the easiest people to connect with to begin with. An alcoholic mother and a philandering father didn’t make for a happy home. On the days when my father came home before midnight the rows got louder by the hour and on the days he didn’t my mother got drunker. The more they rowed the more he stayed away nights, and then the rows got worse it was a vicious circle. I couldn’t even blame him for staying away anymore why would he want to come home, she was a mess. It hadn’t always been that way. Once she had been a well-kept woman. I remembered as a small child, she would dress up nice take me places and smiled nonstop. Then things changed I often wondered why, dad had started staying out later, mum hounded him when he came home and the cycle began.

I often felt like I was part of the arguments, I’d catch my name and the shouting would begin. I couldn’t pin point what I could have done. I was a well behaved child I didn’t get into trouble, I worked hard, and I was polite and well mannered. Dad had always kept me at a distance emotionally. He would hug me but they would be short and stiff. When I was small he would swing me round and hug me close. Then I got older, and the playing stopped, at about the same time as the arguing started.

As I rounded the corner to my home so wrapped up, in my miserable thoughts I didn’t notice the dark stranger leaning against the red brick wall on the opposite side of the road.

Walking through my door I dumped my grey suede handbag on the banister and crept in the kitchen hoping for a quiet coffee before mum’s tirade began.

“Tarina? Is that you” my mother’s shrill and slurred voice carried from the living room.

I took a deep breath before answering.
“Yes mum, would you like a coffee?” I knew what the answer would be before I heard it, spying the half empty bottle of vodka on the side.
“Don’t be silly it’s gone six bring me that vodka on the side”

I picked it up silently draining all but a small shot into the sink before taking the bottle into her, convinced by now she would think shed drunk it herself... Glancing up at the woman who looked twice her 50 years I sighed. Her make up looked like it had been applied using a garden trowel. I couldn’t understand where the woman who smiled, played and joked that I remembered as a child had gone. The greying hair that once would have shone with glory hung limp and dirty around her shoulders, and her skin hung in folds from constant weight loss and gain. She gorged, she drunk then she hated herself and dieted for weeks living on alcohol alone. Her skin had taken a pasty looking colour, dry and cracked and an ever growing yellow tint.

“Stop bloody looking at me like that Tarina and give it here, you and your bloody pity you’re as bad as your father.”
I handed the bottle over and headed back towards the kitchen only to be stopped in my tracks by a voice that could shatter glass.
“Where’s the rest of it then girl? Eh just like you to think you’ve got some kind of right to tell me what I can and can’t do, should have left you on the bloody doorstep I should, silly cow.”

I turned sharply my brown eyes wide, and felt the blood leave my face leaving it as pale as snow.
“What did you just say?” I knew what I had heard but I needed to be sure.
“N.n.nothing I didn’t say nothing girl now go away with your interfering.” mum glanced around the room nervous and probably scared her husband, my dad Rick was going to go crazy over her latest shenanigans.
“I’m not stupid mum what did you mean on the doorstep? Are you saying you found me? That I’m not yours?”
“Just go!” Mum screamed at me “get out for god’s sake.”

I turned and ran from the room tears flowing, I left the house, slamming the door and dropped to my knees on the freshly cut lawn. Oblivious to the grass stains that would be left on my black work trousers. Changing out of my stuffy work clothes hadn’t been an option before leaving. As I glanced up yet again I barely noticed the dark man was standing by the wall, I couldn’t focus to realise it was the same man who had been following me for a few days, all I could hear was my mother’s words “on the doorstep..” over and over again. A part of my brain told me exactly what it meant…I wasn’t who I thought I was, another trying to convince me I had misheard, that it was the usual vicious words form a drunken woman. Everything I thought I knew about myself was suddenly in question, and others made perfect sense, we had so little in common, it had never bothered me till now. The patience I have in abundance whereas she had next to none, my academic achievements that she used to joke never came from her. Most of all the distance that had always been between myself and my father. He loved me I knew that but sometimes id caught him looking at me curiously like he didn’t really know who I was, suddenly everything made perfect sense.

“Who the hell am I?”
“I can help you there.” His voice was quiet, firm.

I looked up suddenly, and there he was sat in front of me, I wondered how he had moved so fast, I didn’t even hear him approach.
“Maybe you should start with who you are?” I was surprised at my own words I meant to shout at him but somehow I felt myself give a weak smile, something about him made me feel secure.

“I’m Lendon ma’am, I’ve been waiting for you.” He spoke so softly yet it rang clear and warm.
“ma’am? Who speaks like that? That’s a really unusual name isn’t it?” I felt nervous and tried to avoid his reference about waiting for me? Should I be worried? Was I in danger? I felt relatively safe in my garden in the still bright summer evening but I knew something about him was very different to other men.

“Yours is quite unusual too don’t you think Tarina?”

I paused before answering thinking about what he had said, he was right I had never met anyone else with the name but, it had always been normal to me, a little different just something else to leave me on the outside looking in.
“I’ve never really…how do you know my name?” suddenly I realised this stranger knew me, had been following me, knew where I lived, I stood up abruptly “are you following me? What are you doing here?”
He stood up slowly and took a step back before answering. “I know a lot about you ma’am and its time you knew too.”
“I’m leaving now,” I said firmly “don’t follow me”.

I left the garden walking briskly towards the town centre, glancing over my shoulder to check he wasn’t behind me. He was still standing in the garden, watching me, head leant to one side almost in awe of me. I was torn between feeling scared yet at the same time drawn to him.
I headed into the nearest coffee shop ordered an Americano and found a seat in a quiet corner. It was quiet with everyone out enjoying the sunshine, the red leather seats were left nearly empty with just one other person on the opposite side sipping a latte while typing furiously on a laptop. I sat with my back to the window as a short dumpy waitress bought me my coffee.
I felt like my whole life had just exploded, my drunken mother had told me I wasn’t hers and a dark stranger had turned up at the same time knowing things about me and I couldn’t understand how or why. Taking a large mouthful of the hot coffee I sank back in the seat and closed my eyes hoping for a few moments of quiet relief. As I opened them there he was sitting opposite, staring intently at my face. Yet again I didn’t hear or even sense his arrival.

“I told you not to follow me.” My voice was an octave higher than usual, who was this man?
“I’m sorry ma’am I didn’t mean to disobey you I saw you as I came past.” His voice was remorseful, and seemed genuine but I couldn’t trust a man who knew my name and followed me around.
I watched him for a moment trying to get some kind of feeling about who he was, and whether he meant me harm, when what his said struck a mental chord.


“Disobey me? What are you talking about who are you?”
“It is…complicated ma’am I need to tell you who you are, I have been sent to guide you.” A slight smile twitched at his full lips as he spoke.
“How do you know who I am? Who sent you? Who’s following me?” I felt panicky rather than reassured at his answer.
“I cannot answer those questions yet ma’am I have much to explain first, but I promise you no one means you any harm.”
“Please stop with the ma’am you know my name use it. You would hardly tell me if you meant me harm would you?”
“Of course Tarina, as you wish. Would I approach you in broad daylight in public if I meant you harm?”
He had a point the coffee shop may have been quiet but that made us more memorable, as if any woman would forget his amazing features, as I glanced up at the waitress who had served me, she was wiping what appeared to be a very clean glass while staring at the man opposite me.

“Ok I see your point. No one is going to forget your face. So explain who am I?”
“I think that was a compliment ma... Tarina?”
“Yes it was now please answer my question why have you been following me?”
“Thank you, because I was waiting for the right time to approach you...I planned to become friends first but your mother has…complicated things, pushed our timing ever so slightly.”

His eyes never left my face as he spoke, watching for my reaction.
“I don’t do well with friends. How do you know what she said to me?”
“That’s because you are different to others around you, I told you I have been watching.”
His cryptic answers were becoming frustrating.
“But we were inside? So what has what she said got to do with anything?”
He paused for a moment deciding on the words to use. “Your mother revealing the truth so soon, means you will want answers, those come easier from one you trust. The truth is…unexpected.”
“How do you know it’ll be unexpected? And how do you know when I don’t! Stop with the cryptic this is my life I have the right to know” my voice had raised higher than I had planned the waitress looked at me eyebrows raised curious as to the rest of our conversation. She took her opportunity to approach us offering refills I held up my empty cup grateful for the extra moments to try and process the information Lendon wasn’t giving me.

As she left he took a deep breath before speaking.
“What I am about to tell you will seem...untrue I beg you to listen to everything, will you do that?” I nodded and he continued. “You were not born here, you were born…elsewhere but your mother died shortly after. It would not have been safe for you to stay, we put you…with your parents here. We felt it best.”
I couldn’t help but interrupt, “she died how? Why do I not know this? How dare you keep this secret?”
“Please you promised to listen, I was not part of the decision.”
“Then who was? Why are you telling me not them?”
“I will explain everything but there are other things you must know first” he paused.
I nodded and sank back into my chair. Tears threatened to fall and I could barely focus. Why had my parents never told me?
“You would have been in grave danger at home. As a young baby ending your possible reign would have been easy, you had to be hidden. This world was safest.”
“Whoa hang on, this world? Reign? Who the hell are you? What is this, some practical joke? I’ve heard enough in leaving” I got up and ran from the café. As soon as I left the building I broke into a sprint heading towards home I needed real answers not fantasy worlds. As I reached my street I slowed and pulled my mobile from my pocket, dialling dads’ number he answered on the third ring.
“Hey Tarina it’s not really a good...”
I cut him short “I don’t care you need to get home. NOW” I shouted the final word and hung up reaching the door I went in heading straight to my room to await his return.

sorry its a long extract, but to get the main plot in i needed to copy it to that point. thank you again for reading


Last edited by CandyCane; 08-29-2013 at 02:04 PM..
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Old 08-30-2013, 01:04 PM
garviel (Offline)
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Hi A few thoughts I had while reading this story. First of all, in my opinion this is the beginning of a superb story. Very captivating and you manage to keep the tension going very well, not revealing too much and not holding back either. I found it a very balanced and nicely flowing story.

There are some technical issues though:
... chestnut locks crossed my face I caught sight of the man I’d seen following
me earlier. His olive skin and dark hair had caught my ...
Personally, I feel the use of the word caught twice so close, is a bit too
noticable. You may consider a different word, but with a similar meaning.


If I had met him before I would remember.
In my personal opinion, the following sounds better:
If I had met him before, I would have remembered.


I shook my head ridding it of the mustiness 8 hours inside an office created.
Never use numbers this way, always write them out: eight


I felt different to other people, yet I didn’t even understand why.
I wonder if one can feel different to someone? Not really sure, but it just struck me as an odd word. Maybe:
different from
different compared to
different than


There are several more technical mistakes, but the story was a bit long so I have only commented on a few. However, one thing I noticed in general, was that your use of commas vary from excellent to dreadful No, not really that bad, but there are several places where commas are badly needed

Putting aside the technical aspect, I really liked the story, and I felt it flowed very naturally. I genuinely hope you will keep going with this story It is certainly not a heap of junk, as you say you sometimes convince yourself your stories are.

Well written !
Garviel
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Old 08-30-2013, 01:21 PM
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thank you so much for you reply, and suggestions, which you are correct with every one. especially the reuse of the word caught. I haven't actually read it back yet as I like to leave lots of time so when I edit I can see it with fresh eyes if that makes sense. and yes my grammer is apalllling I intend to do lots of reading up on it and hopfull when I edit it for the 2nd 3rd 4th and 100th time I should crack it I really appreciate your comments ty ive found a new love for it in the last week or so and am on 140 pages so hopefull for the first time will make it to the end ty again
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Old 09-07-2013, 05:38 AM
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Hi Candy,

Great start! As you've not started editing, I expect a lot will change in the process. SPaG can be caught later on. I just have a few suggestions in the meantime. Feel free to ignore them ...

Originally Posted by CandyCane View Post

You could create a stronger atmosphere with this opening paragraph. Although the man is following her, where is the sense of threat? Play with this scene a little. I find it hard to imagine that the main character wouldn't be so calm about a possible stalker. If someone was following you, would you just watch them, or would you try to catch them out to prove to yourself your not crazy? You could make this scene a little more active for impact.
As I stepped onto the street I raised my face glad of the warm sunshine and soft breeze running through my long hair. As the chestnut locks crossed my face I caught sight of the man I’d seen following me earlier. His olive skin and dark hair had caught my attention as I’d walked to work. He was gorgeous, but there was something different about him, something that made him the most beautiful man I’d ever seen yet somehow there was a familiarity I couldn’t understand. If I had met him before I would remember. As his dark eyes caught mine he turned and was gone as quick as I had blinked. I shook my head ridding it of the mustiness 8 hours inside an office created. The fog that told me he had vanished into thin air.
“Just your imagination” I told myself.

A large portion of this is telling. You want to show us this information instead - e.g. you already have the arguement with her mother. Show Tarina at work for the dead-end job, or have her pick up a letter for overdue bills etc ... Let us figure this information out as the story progresses.
Walking back towards the small semi I lived in with my parents I tried to convince myself I was happy. A dead end job no man and arguing parents hadn’t been the life I had envisioned as a small child. I wanted to be someone, I wanted to do well in this world. Instead I spent my life inputting useless data into a computer for a wage I barley needed. I was capable of so much more, I wanted to help people, fall in love and live a life of happiness. It wasn’t that my parents supported me but rather I had nothing to spend my hard earned wages on. As a child I had always felt on the outside, during school that hadn’t posed a huge problem there was always other misfits to be with. Since making my own way in the world I found myself increasingly alone. I felt different to other people, yet I didn’t even understand why. I was intelligent and I thought fairly pretty yet it was as though I repelled people. I couldn’t form the close bonds of friendship others did. Maybe in part because I didn’t enjoy the things they did. Alcohol and partying held no appeal, getting drunk and making an idiot of myself seemed too immature. Maybe that was the problem...I was old before my years.

Try to be a bit more subtle with dialogue. For example, unless the mother is absolutely trash-lathered drunk, I doubt she would make a slip like this. And if she were drunk, I doubt she'd try to cover it up. Have a play so that your character interactions feel more natural.
“Where’s the rest of it then girl? Eh just like you to think you’ve got some kind of right to tell me what I can and can’t do, should have left you on the bloody doorstep I should, silly cow.”
Other than that, it sounds like a fun project and is definitely something worth pursuing. Lendon seems pretty delicious.
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Old 09-07-2013, 07:33 AM
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You've got a pleasant voice and that alone kept me reading. The story has interest and you do really good job of painting the visual aspect of your story.

The thing that really dragged me out (and I know it is unedited) was your use of the word as lol It drove me up the wall before I finished the first paragraph.

When you're ready I'd be happy to comment in more depth about word choice etc.
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Old 09-07-2013, 10:59 AM
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Thank you both of you, cant argue with any of those points, for some reason any project I start has a poop beginning (prob why I never finish them lol) will take all those suggestions on board

loz do you think it would maybe work better if she screamed that she couldn't tell her what to do as she wasn't her real daughter might work better?

Thank you ANya readin back there is a LOT of them isn't there lol. I have it converted to EPUB now so stuck it on my tablet so I can read it like anyone else would and get a better feel (as well as many a million comments for editing on it lol)

thank you both I really appreciate it
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Old 09-07-2013, 11:04 AM
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Yeah, that sounds good. If she's pushed to her limit that when she's likely to give the info away, so yeah, that works
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Old 09-07-2013, 11:06 AM
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Thank you so much your a star unicorn lol
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Old 09-10-2013, 01:26 AM
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Hi Candycane,
I was looking for something else when I came across this piece. You've had a few good critiques, so I won't add a detailed analysis, just a few general observations.

Firstly, I understand what others have written about a stronger beginning but I don't see it as that essential. A novel is several hundred pages long. If the opening paragraph doesn't grab me by the throat and shake me about, I'm not that concerned. What you wrote was intriguing enough for me to want to carry on reading.

The point about punctuation has been made and I agree with it. That's a case of the pot calling the kettle black on my part! I struggle with punctuation at times myself. A very useful trick to combat this problem is simply to read your work aloud to yourself. Where you need to pause for breath is the natural place to be using punctuation.

I was enthralled by the piece and didn't find it too long at all. I particularly enjoyed the family dynamic that you describe. It was very realistic and gritty.

The point about repetition has already been made but it's valid.
I turned sharply my brown eyes wide, and felt the blood leave my face leaving it as pale as snow.
Suggestion : I turned sharply, my brown eyes wide with shock. I felt the blood draining from my face, leaving it as pale as the driven snow.

“What did you just say?” I knew what I had heard but I needed to be sure.
“N.n.nothing I didn’t say nothing girl now go away with your interfering.”
I don't think there is anything wrong with the mother denying what she had let slip, just the manner in which she does so. I've seen a lot of drunk people and they do behave like this! They also become angry when they are caught out in this fashion. I'm not sure how nervous she would be after making the statement though. Drunk people are not often worried about anything they've said! Just take out the stammer.

All in all, I enjoyed this piece and would gladly read more. Thanks for posting it.
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Old 09-10-2013, 01:28 AM
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Thank you Cumbrian, much appreciated, I have actually rewritten this piece now with the suggestions that I was given that you've agreed with, im pretty sure its much more gritty now and the interaction with her mother becomes much more emotive. Thank you
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