|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:46 pm
This is a story that I have been slowly working on for quite a while. I'm almost done, but I need to do some research about Native americans so I dont make a total idiot of myself.
Here is the first chapter (I don't have an proper name yet so I'm calling it Zanna story for now):
Chapter One
Suzanna glanced up at the purple mountains shrouded in fog and mist ahead. The snowy peaks glistened in the morning sun. The path was littered with pinecones and gravel leading to a steep up clime that had made her stop the night before.
“I wonder how long I have been climbing?” she asked herself, not for the first time. She had lost count of the days since she ran a way from home. If you could call it home.
The house she lived in never felt like a home meant for her. Since the day she was sent to her foster parents’ house at the age of eleven, she had never felt welcome. The foster parents she had come to know, spent there lives centered on there genius son. Obeying his every whim whether it was the latest version of the encyclopedia or a complete remodel of his room, they couldn’t be happier.
They thought they would be blessed with another genius when they adopted her, but after weeks of IQ tests they found that they were wrong. Suzanna was not dumb; she was average with her strawberry blond hair that looked red in the summer sun. She had average grades, A’s B’s the occasional C+ on bad days. The only thing that made her stand out was her creative writing; she could paint a picture with words. She could make you cry, laugh and scream in terror all in one paragraph. The only problem is that when she reads out loud, the Penykettles think that she copied from someone at school. She cringed at the thought of their laughter, their scorn.
Suzanna realized days after she moved in that she was only wanted for her knowledge, and if she could not live up to her foster brother’s brain, then she was not needed. Since then, she has planned her escape, buying her time till the chance came to leave. Then the chance came, three days after her fourteenth birthday David came home with a note from his teacher at college.
(note: I got the name pennykettle from a series of books I read a while back. I will change the name once I can think of something better.)
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:49 pm
Chapter Two
“It’s an invitation,” he explained, “to a convention in central Georgia. They say it’s a chance to show off the tools of the future. I will go; it could let me see the little competition I have.”
“Of course honey, whatever you want.” His mother answered smiling.
As David started relaying the information about his trip, Suzanna lost interest. Only when David said that it would be a week long trip did she listen. Once her foster brother said that, a plan started forming in her head.
On the months that passed she started saving money, water, and long lasting food in a bag in the very back of her closet. If someone asked her she could say that it was her survival pack for emergencies. She did not have to worry though, because her foster parents did not care about anything that concerned her.
The night David and his parents left Suzanna acted normally, nodding to the few instructions Mrs. Penykettle distractedly told her, saying good bye, and finally watching the tail lights disappear at the end of the driveway. She calmly walked back inside the house and up the stairs to her room. As she walked in she started relaying her plans in her head. She would first check to make sure that she had everything in her backpack.
She would then gather all the unspiolable food she could fit into her tent bag where she was storing the food, tent and hunting gear. She was a pretty good shot so when she runs out of food she should be able to catch something. Then she will quietly sneak out the back door so the neighbors don’t see her. Once outside she would head out to the edge of town and out to the woods behind the old school house. The woods had many trails and newcomers could easily get lost, but she new her way around well enough night and day. From there it would be about a three day hike to the nearest town where she could get some more food and water.
After that she could buy a map and head for the mountains west of there. After that she was on her own, with only her map to guide her. She was a little nervous about that last part but now was not the time to be worried.
Everything went smoothly until she discovered that it was harder to navigate in the dark tonight than when she practiced because there was barely any moon out.
“I still can do it,” she whispered, “I just have to use my flashlight. If the batteries get low I’ll get new ones at the store in place of the candy bars I was going to get. I can live without those. Come to think of it, I should do that anyway, just in case this happens again.” At the store she found that things were cheaper than in her town so she gladly had enough money to buy both the candy bars and many extra batteries. When she reached the end of the store she had some trouble picking out which map she needed.
“Do you need some help?” questioned a store clerk, “I’m pretty good with maps.”
As she explained the area she needed, Suzanna noticed that the clerk was carefully watching her.
“Well, the map you need is the one on the right. I do want to know if you have an adult with you though.” the store clerk answered with a knowing look.
“My parents are in the car. They didn’t want to come out.” Suzanna was getting worried but she did not want to make that obvious. The clerk looked unconvinced but with a little arguing Suzanna finally got her to let her leave. At the check out counter, the lady did not ask any questions and she got out without any more interruptions. Once she left the store she made sure to stay away from anyone that might know her.
At the edge of town she took a last look back knowing that it was the last time she will see civilization for a while. She started to get a little worried. What if the police searched the mountains? What if she could not shoot down any more food? What if…… what if she died?
“All I know is that I’m leaving and not coming back, no matter what,” Suzanna whispered. Then she turned her back on the town, her old life, and her past.
(Im sorry that the paragraphs don't show, I put them there but they arn't showing up on the actual post)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:52 pm
Chapter Three
During the next few days it was just the thought of people looking for her that kept her going. She had not been spoiled but she had not been raised in the wild either. She wasn’t made for this. She should be back at the house, having lunch, reading her book, or even doing the dishes, anything but this. These thoughts kept going through her mind day after day while she kept going. It had now been a week and she was starting to wonder if she would ever reach the mountain. Then she saw it, the white peeks rising high over the trees ahead glinting in the twilight.
Just that sight seemed to lift her spirits even if only for little while.
It was a few days hike to the base of the mountain. Her anxiety lessened as she got closer to the slope. The small shrubs and browning grass could do little to keep her from her destination, and so the going was easy. Four days after the first glimpse of the mountain, the grassy path gave way to rocky dirt and large boulders left from landslides long past.
“I hope none of those come crashing down on my head,” Suzanna mumbled to herself, “that would leave more than a bruise.” She walked all day only stopping to take a break and eat a small lunch at the base of a giant boulder. As her mind drifted her thoughts turned to her grandparents.
Zane and Anne Kelswater where the only parents she ever knew, because her real parents died in a plane crash two weeks after she was born. When she was brought to the Kelswater’s house two days later, her grandfather told her later, he expected a loud and screaming baby that would ruin the peace of the small nameless town in Oregon , but what was given to them was the sweetest tempered baby they had ever seen. As she grew, her sweet laidback attitude remained, working its way into the heart of everyone that met her. Her grandparents loved to show off their amazing granddaughter to the other neighbors and the first week she was there the small two room farmhouse was swamped with people waiting excitedly for a glimpse of the small bundle.
At the age of three, her days were spent wandering the area searching for new things to discover around her. When she didn’t know what something was she made a name for it. Frogs became hop hops, and she was always caught chattering to a nearby “fluffy” up in a tree. When a stray dog came into the yard at the back of the house, she was not frightened by the large burly frame and scruffy half ear covered in brown spots that also sprinkled his long tail and front paws. As she smiled the dog did what most dogs wouldn’t dare to do; smile back. Even though her gram screamed at the large dog playing with her little granddaughter, Suzanna kept on playing. Why should she be scared? She had never known anything too terribly displeasing (except when the little old lady down the street pinched her cheeks) so she was not worried despite the older lady’s cries. Over the weeks grandma Anne grew to like the patchy dog, and the little girl got even closer to the large animal. During the summer, people would always see a little girl running after a dog in the fields surrounding the town, ear and pigtails flapping.
Her time at the farmhouse was a short but lovely time in Suzanna’s life. But, when she was seven years old, things started to go wrong. One day Suzanna was playing with the scruffy dog she had named Spot out in the farmhouse yard. Lately, there had been construction going on to take down the old bridge that had collapsed last winter in a storm. The small community didn’t mind much; the construction workers did not make much noise and most stayed away from the houses. But that day, one of the workers got upset over his paycheck and drove off in one of the company trucks.
The little girl heard the truck before she saw it, but Spot didn’t because of his missing ear. The truck was coming on his blind side so he didn’t even know what happened when a great pressure came over his large body. Suzanna, who was watching from a safe distance under a nearby apple tree, was shocked. Nothing like this had ever happened to her that she could remember. Her life in the town was a quiet peaceful one away from any dangers and outside troubles.
When the large rusty truck drove away without regret, the little girl slowly made her way to the crumpled heap on the ground. She could barely hear her grandpa’s yells, and was not aware when someone grabbed on to her arms tightly. The only thing she could hear, the only thing she could see, was the small whimpering thing lying in front of her.
Suzanna’s knees gave way first, then her self control. She started screaming and crying uncontrollably, her small face wet and red from the tears flowing down her face. That night Suzanna did not come out of her room, or for the next two days. Once she came down she seemed to be her normal cheerful self, despite the large shadows under her eyes. Suzanna eventually got over her beloved pets passing, but the horror of her first experience of death stayed with her for a long while.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:53 pm
CHAPTER 4
Her life went on as normal for a couple months but then was once again turned upside down. There had been talk about an escaped criminal hiding in the region around the town, but to the townspeople it was just rumors. With autumn fast approaching, Suzanna’s grandparents wanted to do something special for their granddaughter to help ease the loss of her pet.
They sent Suzanna to a nearby friend’s house while they went out shopping. The girl had been hinting about a new bike to replace the once she was fast outgrowing so the adults bought a shiny new bicycle and were bringing it home. When they came to the garage, Anne noticed something wrong.
“We didn’t leave the garage door open,” she asked her husband, “Why is it open now?”
“I’m sure it’s just your old memory acting up again,” he replied gruffly.
Suddenly they heard a crash from inside the house. Startled, the grandparents silently crept into the house. They had made it half way to the other side of the room before they heard a soft hissing voice from the shadows in front of them.
“Don’t move!” it rasped “don’t make me do anything I’ll regret. I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it!”
“Who are you and what do you want?” Zane inquired softly
“That’s none of your concern”
No one knows how long their conversation lasted but just that when Suzanna walked into her house she found it empty. She spent some time searching the house until she reached the garage. She had a feeling of dread coming from the room so she hesitated going in. Slowly, she opened the door. What met the young girls eyes left her with a long lasting sadness. In answer to the question of what she saw she only said that they never let go of the bike, after that she went quiet and refused to go any further.
The happy time in Suzanna’s life was over along with the innocence of childhood. She was soon sent to an orphanage in a neighboring state where she spent the next 4 years of her life. At the age of eleven she was adopted by the Pennykettles and spent another 4 years with them before leaving. She had friends at school and she was admired by many people even the adults, although most like her for being the sister of a teenage genius. She had no emotional ties to her life with the Pennykettles and she had no regrets leaving her friends behind.
After she was done taking her break, Suzanna trudged on towards her goal. After she got to the mountain pass she would move on to the small area of land that used to be her home with her grandparents. It lay just beyond the end of the pass and very few people ever came there except family of those who lived in the isolated town. Once she got to the old farm house she would explain her position to the elder villagers who lived nearby and they would probably let her stay.
All those years she lived with her grandparents her imperfections and small call to mischief was easily accepted. Even though this was a much larger scale of crime than stealing extra cookies form her grandmothers rooster cookie jar, she was sure they would let her stay as long as she earned her keep and understood what she had done wrong. She smiled at the thought of the elderly people all crowding around her like mother hens to their chicks.
I
t took her another day but she made it over the tallest part of the mountain and stepped on the gravel path to the town.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:55 pm
CHAPTER 5
What met the girl’s eyes was not what she expected. The dirt roads and houses were still there but the trees and fields were unkept and the houses, although still there, were dark and covered in tree limbs and ivy.
“Where did everybody go?” Suzanna asked no one in particular.
Hearing a rustling sound she turned to the large unkept bushes lining the road.
“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed, “I thought something happened to…….” But all that came out was a scruffy looking brown tom, obviously looking for a snack from the unknown visitor.
“I’m sorry kitty, I don’t have any snacks for you” Suzanna answered quietly, not wanting to disturb the heavy silence surrounding her.
With the prospect of food no longer keeping him there, the cat padded softly to find a better meal. Watching him go, Suzanna felt a little lonely and wondered what happened to the townspeople. After walking a bit, Suzanna heard another rustling sound from behind her. Thinking it was the cat again, she turned back in the direction she came and was met with a strange sight.
It was a boy. He was dressed a lot like the native people that you only see in documentaries and class history books. Suzanna’s eyes quickly moved from the leather pants and bare chest to the bow at the young man’s side. She gasped as an arrow moved from his quiver to its place on the bow. It was pointed at her. Suzanna quickly shut her eyes when she saw the string being pulled back. Many thoughts rushed through her mind as she waited for death; but it never came. Wondering what was wrong, Suzanna opened her eyes.
The boy had moved to a position behind her and was stooping over something on the ground. Upon closer inspection, Suzanna was frightened to see a mountain lion lying on its side in front of the boy with an arrow protruding from it's chest. The young man had saved her!
Ok, that's it so far. I would REALLY apreciate helpful critisism. I only get better if I know what I'm doing wrong.
Thanks for reading! mrgreen
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 4:24 pm
Does anybody know how the Native americans lived in the mountains of Oregon? stare
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 11:59 pm
I'd like to read it but I'm not fond of text walls (they hurt), but I know your trouble with the paragraph thing, think you could make clearer line breaks though? Like, add in some extra white space for those of us with bad eyes....? I can see where you meant them to be most of the time but it's still hard for me to look at. :C
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2009 4:45 pm
ok, yeah I can do that 3nodding
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2012 7:08 pm
AuroraCelestine Ok, that's it so far. I would REALLY apreciate helpful critisism. I only get better if I know what I'm doing wrong.
Thanks for reading! mrgreen Well... considering the last chapter was released back in 09', I think I'm a just a little late to the party here, but oh well. I'll critique it anyway. Suzanna's characterization is good. You incorporated a lot tragedy into her backstory, but at the same time you avoided making her a complete woobie, which is something a lot of writers struggle with. She's talented with writing, but otherwise unremarkable in other areas, so she isn't a Mary Sue either. A few things strike me as a little odd though. If she was stockpiling money, couldn't she have just hitched a ride to her old town on a bus? Or, even just take a bike? The roads would have been the obvious choice, but taking a route through the mountains is a very strange choice. I'm also not to enthusiastic about the idea of her her with hunting gear though. Fourteen year old girls should not be packing heat. The way the first chapter is set up is good. Though I think it would have been more effective to lengthen her climbing, and begin her backstory in chapter two. Still, it works as a hook, so good work. I'm not really sure I buy her reasons for wanting to run away from home. If she's fourteen she's old enough to know that her grandparents are dead, and that here's nothing for her in her old town. Even if we assume that her foster parents were unloving, doesn't she have a life there? What about all her friends that she'll be leaving behind? That being said, you're establishing her backstory fairly well. It's paced, so that it tells the reader what they need to know, without dragging on too long. I'd say you did well. Chapter Five is a little strange. She mentions that this guy is a first nations, like the kind she used to see in documentaries. I'm not really sure if this guy is supposed to be a modern day guy who happens to be first nations, or if he's supposed to be some sort of time traveller or not.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2012 9:10 pm
Maltese_Falcon91 AuroraCelestine Ok, that's it so far. I would REALLY apreciate helpful critisism. I only get better if I know what I'm doing wrong.
Thanks for reading! mrgreen Well... considering the last chapter was released back in 09', I think I'm a just a little late to the party here, but oh well. I'll critique it anyway. Suzanna's characterization is good. You incorporated a lot tragedy into her backstory, but at the same time you avoided making her a complete woobie, which is something a lot of writers struggle with. She's talented with writing, but otherwise unremarkable in other areas, so she isn't a Mary Sue either. A few things strike me as a little odd though. If she was stockpiling money, couldn't she have just hitched a ride to her old town on a bus? Or, even just take a bike? The roads would have been the obvious choice, but taking a route through the mountains is a very strange choice. I'm also not to enthusiastic about the idea of her her with hunting gear though. Fourteen year old girls should not be packing heat. The way the first chapter is set up is good. Though I think it would have been more effective to lengthen her climbing, and begin her backstory in chapter two. Still, it works as a hook, so good work. I'm not really sure I buy her reasons for wanting to run away from home. If she's fourteen she's old enough to know that her grandparents are dead, and that here's nothing for her in her old town. Even if we assume that her foster parents were unloving, doesn't she have a life there? What about all her friends that she'll be leaving behind? That being said, you're establishing her backstory fairly well. It's paced, so that it tells the reader what they need to know, without dragging on too long. I'd say you did well. Chapter Five is a little strange. She mentions that this guy is a first nations, like the kind she used to see in documentaries. I'm not really sure if this guy is supposed to be a modern day guy who happens to be first nations, or if he's supposed to be some sort of time traveller or not. I have been looking for this! I thought I lost it when my computer crashed last year. Yeah, considering it is the first story I ever did, and one I started while waiting for the other students in my class to finish their papers in the middle school library, I guess it is pretty good. sweatdrop I'm probably not going to go back and change this, but it is still interesting to hear a critique. If I am assuming correctly that when you mention the 'first nations' you mean what we call Native Americans. He is part of a tribe living hidden away in the mountains. I acctually stopped working on this story because I didn't know enough about them to write about their village. Edit: Wow, I just noticed. Those chapters are really short! I'm surprised. (acctually, considering the fact that I am the one that wrote it, I am not all that surprised. I am horrible with page counts.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2012 10:10 pm
AuroraCelestine I have been looking for this! I thought I lost it when my computer crashed last year. Yeah, considering it is the first story I ever did, and one I started while waiting for the other students in my class to finish their papers in the middle school library, I guess it is pretty good. sweatdrop It's a lot better than the first story I ever did, that's for sure. Considering your age when you wrote this, I'd say it's a fairly remarkable achievement. AuroraCelestine I'm probably not going to go back and change this, but it is still interesting to hear a critique. If I am assuming correctly that when you mention the 'first nations' you mean what we call Native Americans. He is part of a tribe living hidden away in the mountains. I acctually stopped working on this story because I didn't know enough about them to write about their village. That's right, we have different words for different things up here in Canada. First Nations is our term for Native Americans. I guess what threw me off is that First Nations today don't actually go around forests bare-chested, nor do they hunt with bows and arrows. Well, maybe some do, but flannel shirts and hunting rifles are the norm now. They also tend live on reservations, not villages. AuroraCelestine Edit: Wow, I just noticed. Those chapters are really short! I'm surprised. (acctually, considering the fact that I am the one that wrote it, I am not all that surprised. I am horrible with page counts.) An author's page count is never too large or small, it's exactly as large as she wants it to be. Oh, I'm loving that new Avatar, by the way. The top hat makes you look like a batman villain.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 24, 2012 6:58 pm
Maltese_Falcon91 AuroraCelestine I have been looking for this! I thought I lost it when my computer crashed last year. Yeah, considering it is the first story I ever did, and one I started while waiting for the other students in my class to finish their papers in the middle school library, I guess it is pretty good. sweatdrop It's a lot better than the first story I ever did, that's for sure. Considering your age when you wrote this, I'd say it's a fairly remarkable achievement. AuroraCelestine I'm probably not going to go back and change this, but it is still interesting to hear a critique. If I am assuming correctly that when you mention the 'first nations' you mean what we call Native Americans. He is part of a tribe living hidden away in the mountains. I acctually stopped working on this story because I didn't know enough about them to write about their village. That's right, we have different words for different things up here in Canada. First Nations is our term for Native Americans. I guess what threw me off is that First Nations today don't actually go around forests bare-chested, nor do they hunt with bows and arrows. Well, maybe some do, but flannel shirts and hunting rifles are the norm now. They also tend live on reservations, not villages. AuroraCelestine Edit: Wow, I just noticed. Those chapters are really short! I'm surprised. (acctually, considering the fact that I am the one that wrote it, I am not all that surprised. I am horrible with page counts.) An author's page count is never too large or small, it's exactly as large as she wants it to be. Oh, I'm loving that new Avatar, by the way. The top hat makes you look like a batman villain. Yeah, I had no idea of what they should look like. I was just throwing things out there. Why thank you. I like the top hat as well. I'm not sure about the batman villain thing, but its green so I'm happy. Haha.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
