Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

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Tony-DarkGrave wrote:
so Tom when will the EXP system get a overhaul? will we get a Supporter forum section? Lit portal when is that getting implemented?

I would be interested in a "lit portal."

Major difference I saw was the videos loading super fast. Hopefully, no more of these annoying buffering shenanigans crop up.

~Depes~

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Content:

-You are asked to analyze the poem. Instead of merely synthesizing each stanza, draw some conclusion about your reaction to this poem. You have no clear thesis statement, so throughout the entire paper, I have no idea what point you are trying to prove. Moreover, formulating a thesis will help you to focus on one topic, which will keep you from digressing as you constantly did throughout your paper.

-Incorporate sentences in your introductory paragraph that hint at what you will be discussing in the following paragraphs.

-Be sure to use the author or main character's name occasionally to remind your readers of who you are talking about. Repeating he is too general.

-In addition to an unclear thesis statement, each of the paragraphs in your body continues to lose my attention. I do not know whether you are discussing a stanza, individual lines, or concepts you are expounding by using quotes from the poem.

-At some points in the paper, you mention a shift. What shift are you talking about? A shift in mood? Tone? Perception? Meaning?

-You use informal phrases a lot, such as using the word just. Avoid those phrases when writing papers for professors or employers.

-I like how you put forth questions to your audience. Not only did they grab my attention in the beginning but they also leave me with something to ruminate over after reading your essay.

-Your transitioning is smooth with the sentences you use to end each paragraph. Keep those.

Remember that I did not point out everything that you might have to fix in your paper. Not only am I not an English professor but every reader will look over at least a couple errors. Proofread and revise your essay as thoroughly as possible before you contemplate turning it in.

~Depes Crystalline~

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Here are my comments. Note for this reply that I have only given the poem a cursory read and am only focusing on aesthetics, grammar, and content in general.

Aesthetics:

-I am assuming that this essay should be in MLA format. If so, get rid of the space after the paragraphs and set the lines to double space. In the information portion at the top, your course title should be included below the date. Also, MLA states that names have to be placed surname first followed by your first name and middle initial, but many teachers accept your current format.

-MLA or not, your title should never be boldface nor underlined, and the title of the poem should be contained within quotation marks.

Grammar:

-I notice that you use single quotation marks throughout your essay. The correct character to use is the double quotation marks. Use the single ones only if the quote is inside another quote.

-You tend to shift verb tenses within each paragraph.

-When quoting poems, always put in parentheses which lines the quote is from. Also, separate the lines with slashes, not commas.

-In formal essays, make an attempt to avoid contractions and write out the full words, e.g. who's = who is.

Carpe diem is a phrase from another language, so it should always be italicized. Phrases like et cetera are not italicized because they have become official English words.

<quote>...we do know what occuring [sic] in...</quote>
You are missing a verb, and "occuring" has two r's.

<quote>...'Carpe Diem' is what is also another term...</quote>
You do not need what is also.

<quote>...Y.O.L.O., which means 'You Only Live Once.'</quote>
You can replace which means with or.

<quote>Tomorrow is an unpredictable day we will eventually have, but until then, why not seize the present day. Maybe seize the day with your mistress, like in the poem 'To His Coy Mistress' [sic] by Andrew Marvell.</quote>
Replace the periods with a question marks or rewrite the sentences, so they are either absolute statements or questions. You are also missing a comma after the second Mistress.

<quote>In the title, it mentioned the word 'Coy.'</quote>
Avoid the ambiguous it. Try phrases such as The title includes the word "Coy."

<quote>You also encountered...</quote>
Beware of the you. Not only did you shift the point of view, but you is very informal, which you probably do not want in a formal essay, unless it is in a command.

<quote>...but instead with a 'ness' suffix, which transform...</quote>
You could avoid worrying about all the errors in this sentence if you simply quoted the poem's second line.

<quote>This poet is mostly likely intended towards his mistress...</quote>
You have two verbs here, so get rid of one. Also, you are missing an object after the verb, whichever one you choose to keep.

<quote>"Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, Lady, were no crime."</quote>
Lady is not capitalized in the poem, so neither should it be in your quote.

<quote>...of an excursion that would have together. How much the author loves his mistress, covet the relationship between them.</quote>
I believe you are missing the subject before would. You can combine the sentence and fragment by replacing the period with a colon and lower-casing How. Put a conjunction after mistress, and add a s to covet.

<quote>...he will love her ten years...</quote>
Does the author love the years or his mistress? I think you know which word you are missing.

<quote>...pressuring her saying...</quote>
Use the infinitive form of saying, to say.

<quote>...which brings the question; [sic] does this mean he has...</quote>
Use the colon instead of the semi-colon. Some uses for colons include: listing objects, additional information in the form of a fragment, and quotations. Semi-colons are usually used for two combined sentences whose contents are related to each other; however, they can also be used in lists whose phrases include commas already, in order not to confuse the reader.

<quote>...but none do there embrace.</quote>
Because you are not directly quoting from the poem, I suggest you reorder the words to make the sentence less confusing to the reader. This put me off until I looked in the poem.

<quote>...why it should be affected towards each other.</quote>
Other what?

<quote>...the second paragraph...</quote>
Poems are written in stanzas, not paragraphs.

<quote>...that's in the future, the real matter is...</quote>
Commas do not allow a powerful enough pause to divide two sentences. Use the semi-colon.

<quote>...which explains in his third paragraph.</quote>
Despite the fact that you mentioned what is explained in your next paragraph, you need to include the object in this sentence, after explains.

<quote>...to enjoy every second of the day with her before time comes.</quote>
I am guessing that you meant death. Time is too general in this sentence.

<quote>...than the last paragraph before this and [sic] the protagonist just wanted her...</quote>
Before this is redundant because you already have last to refer to the stanza previous to the one you are currently analyzing. You are missing a comma after the conjunction.

<quote>...you cannot tell what's tomorrow going to be like...</quote>
Your verb, is, is in the wrong location. Is should follow the subject, which in this case is tomorrow.

<quote>...Do something with your life, whether it'll be...</quote>
Get rid of will.

<quote>...a coronation of a girl of your dreams, or just having...</quote>
Coronation means to crown someone. Considering how you phrased this sentence, I think you did not mean to use a metaphor playing with coronation's definition. also, delete the comma.

<quote>I'm not forcing you, I'm just warning you.</quote>
Remove this entirely.

<quote>We do not know God's plan, which we must prepare, but until then, carpe diem.</quote>
You are missing the word for before which.

~Depes Crystalline~

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I would like to critique your essay.

Since you have your essay on Google Docs, it would be really convenient for both you and me if you set the setting to "Comment Only." Click on "Share" at the top right to find the settings. "Comment Only" allows the public to both view and leave comments on the side, but it will not give the public the ability to modify the document itself.

~Depes Crystalline~

At 11/7/12 06:59 AM, kopacetic wrote: I don't know if this allowed, but I really need someone to critique my essay for my Language Arts Class.
The essay is a close-reading analysis of a poem entitled To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell

You can find my essay here

I'm trying to get better at writing essays.

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At 11/1/12 01:33 AM, EKublai wrote: DeftandEvil, I'd still like to read yours :D.

Looks like we have 12 entries. and about 23k words. This will be quite a bit to read.

Also, to RapeMuffin, Roxxar, Starwarsjunkie, and Depes7448, do you still want to keep your stories untitled?

My story's title was "Death List 3." I didn't realize titles would be such a big deal.

~Depes Crystalline~

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Part 2

"Now," the man spoke with a deep, threatening tone, "which one first?" He kneeled before Shara's reeking innards and pulled out a brown velvet box from the drawer the lamp sat on, lifting the lid up as he presented it to Shara's widening eyes. She let out a clear, high pitch whimper at the surgical cutting tools placed on a small, rusted steel tray, all of the blades and ends covered in layers of dried blood. Shara stretched her head as far back as she could and opened her mouth to let out raspy breaths that would once be called screams. This made the man chuckle again in glee while removing one of the crimson instruments.

"First, you won't need your kidneys. It's not like you're going to pee anytime soon." Short, rapid breathes escaped Shara's cold, dry mouth. Warm blood spilled over the man's hands as he used a small knife to cut ureters that connected the kidneys to Shara's bladder. The tubes fell away, releasing a tiny stream of yellow liquid mixed with fresh blood, while the man gently carried the two kidneys to a small black device that Shara had not noticed before. Her eyelids twitched when the man lifted the lid to reveal a portable grill. He laid out the kidneys on the black metal bars and turned back to Shara. Even more excited, the man commenced cutting other tissues holding her organs together...

...Whimpers and harsh breaths were all Shara could muster as most of her organs were cut out, save for her stomach, intestines, lungs, and heart. It scared her even more as she watched each piece being removed without a single hint of pain. She could not feel anything down past her neck though she could see her heart beating faster and faster, unintentionally causing blood to profusely pour out of various cuts running throughout her torso. Her lungs expanded and contracted heavily as quickly as they could. The little water left in Shara's body escaped through her eyes in the form of tears, tears that ceaselessly streamed down her pale cheeks and traveled until they hit the clean cut edge of Shara's partially empty body. She rested her head back on the head rest and cried until her eyes dried up as well. When she opened her eyes to look at the man, she noticed him holding a needle in his hand with a synthetic tube leading to something behind the chair.

"You wonâEUTMt be needing this anymore, either." He tossed the needle aside and walked out of the room. Shara whimpered again and closed her eyes. Her lips trembled and her eyelids flickered. A few minutes passed and Shara started to feel faint from an immense and sudden exhaustion. Before she could drift off into the safety of her dreams, a rush of searing pain flew through Shara and she could feel every stinging, burning cell of her body. Her eyes flew open and she made a sharp wheeze. Every centimeter of her body shivered as if she were being stung repeatedly without stop by numerous thin needles. The excruciating sensation knocked Shara unconscious, yet brought her back with each cycle of futile twists and jerks to get out of her restraints. This continued on for another ten excruciating minutes that felt like hours until the man came back with a slam of the door. Shara did her best to control her twitches, but her intestines and stomach had already slid across each other into a disorganized fashion, partially spilling out of the open wound. The weight of the two organs pulled on her esophagus, only adding to the unbearable pain Shara tried to endure. Her breaths became shorter and her vision turned hazy. Shara could just make out the blurry shape of the man approaching her dying body. He laughed at her struggle and picked her up half a meter off the chair. This action shook her arms and rid them of more beetles than Shara had imagined could fit in her thin limbs.

"Smile, you backstabber," the man whispered mockingly with a wide grin. He pulled Shara towards him and she felt something poking at her anus. Shara let out a reverberating gasp as the man forced a rough surfaced device a couple centimeters into her tract. Then the man twisted some lever on the device, and Shara felt her anus expanding well beyond their limits. Her skin ripped apart and her prostate tore away from the anus, now almost a quarter-meter in diameter.

"You know what you are? You are a clogged toilet pipe that needs a little cleanin'. The sins in your heart are to be flushed out." The man forcifully shook Shara's body. That jerk allowed her stomach and intestines build momentum as they rushed down the opening, causing her esophagus to rip apart. Shara's head slightly crushed her neck as the force pulled down on it, rattling her brain. At that moment, Shara fainted...

... Shara's mother walked alongside a friend towards Shara's home. Sweat traveled down both their foreheads as they wondered why they had not seen Shara for the past few days. They hoped that maybe she had just taken a break since Laura's death, but both of them knew that Shara would have called either of them by now. When they reached the front door to Shara's aging house, a strange, foul stench emanated from within. The two women looked at each other in effete before Shara's mother placed a shaky hand on the door knob. She opened it to reveal a dark, empty room, the floor and walls bear save for a single object lying peacefully in a corner. The other woman held her nose while flipping on a switch next to the door frame. They both gasped when the bright light shone on the ravaged, hollow body of Shara. Her torso lay completely empty of organs except for a few ragged ends of flesh stretched down her throat. In the center between her legs, Shara's body bore an extremely wide hole capable of fitting a basketball through. Her skin had a sickly, green color and sagged in areas that made it look as if it were slime. All four of her limbs were nearly reduced to bone as the tiny beetles thrived on her rotting flesh. Shara's mother immediately wailed. She fell to her knees and desperately covered her eyes, her scream echoing in the otherwise silent room. Her friend, on the other hand, stared at something to the side, paralyzed for a few seconds before falling over. When Shara's mother finally stopped crying, she noticed her friend, and she ever so slowly turned her head to see what had frightened her friend worse than Shara's body. She nearly fainted as well when she spotted a tiny, dull bowl holding a blackened, grilled kidney.

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This is actually from an old story I did a year or so ago. I revised it, so it would be more appropriate here.

Part 1

Shara ambled along aimlessly, her chin dipping below her shoulders and her arms wrapped around her cold chest. Relentless gusts of wind blew across the dark neighborhood, so Shara's yellow skirt flapped excitedly. Her slender legs trembled and shook; even the black stocking decorated with red hearts on her left leg brought little warmth. Soon, Shara's teeth began chattering while an army of miniscule goose bumps rose upon her arm. She kept her attention pointed at the ancient sidewalk forward of her toes as she switched to shuffling her numbing feet onward.

Her ears could not hear anything aside from the acute whistling of the wind blowing across around her yellow cap.
A sigh escaped her purple lips in the form of a transparent, white cloud. Shara thought back on what had happened during the summer and shivered again. This time, it was not a shiver from the low temperatures, but rather a quick shudder of fear. Her mind drew upon the image of his sister, Laura, lying on an examination table, her body covered with countless cuts, bruises, and horrifying tears in her skin that were made by hungry creatures of the park where her body had been found sitting against a tree. Shara remembered the quiet, defeated expression on her mother's face when the cloth covering Laura was lifted. When Laura's battered body had been revealed, Shara stared with wide eyes at her sister's, which were only half open and gazing blankly at the ceiling lights. By the time something even worse was shown, Shara had already entered a state of immobile shock, tears escaping her widened eyes and her brain left vacant from failure to comprehend a light-hearted, vivacious girl's untimely death. The rest of the ensconcing blanket was removed and both women, Shara and her mother, gasped a deep intake of breath at the sight of Laura's stomach area . Her belly button bore a great rupture around a decimeter in length, the skin surrounding the hole curved slightly outwards in the shape of unclean, ragged fringes. What despaired Shara even more was the state the organs were left. They were each stretched beyond their limits to a superfluous length, mixed around like a bowl of rotten noodle soup whose ragged meat was picked at by small critters.

When Shara walked for another couple meters, her nose wrinkled in disgust at an abrupt, unusual scent floating in the cool air. She stopped and slowly looked up, wincing at the sudden rush of cold air that filled in tiny, warm crevices her bowing body had been masking. Her dry blue eyes met those belonging to a large man standing well over two meters tall. He bore a large grin and his pupils visibly dilated. Before Shara could react, two other men snuck up behind her and grabbed her by the arms.

"Hey!" she shouted before one of the men forced a stiff foam ball in Shara's mouth. She attempted to bite down on the ball so she could spit it out, but a strange rancid liquid spilled out as a result, stinging the inside of her mouth. Shara winced and bit down harder in reaction, causing more of the foul liquid to fill her agonized mouth. Her eyes watered and the barely bearable pain flooded throughout her petite body. Limbs limping feebly, Shara's resistance died down as her eyes closed, only a few tears able to escape and stream down her paling cheeks. Her body now resembled a life-sized puppet held up by two snickering, unclean men. A peaceful breath emanated from Shara's nose before she was carried off to a waiting cargo truck...

...Shara's eyelids flickered as they slowly separated to reveal a dark, fetid room with a single light shining from a lone, old-fashioned lamp that sat on a small wooden table. She tried to lick her dry lips but realized that her tongue was also arid. Next, Shara attempted to move her arms to prop herself up from the chair she was sitting on. Unfortunately, her arms remained motionless despite Shara's urgent coaxing with her mind. She gradually realized that she could not feel her arms at all, so she took in a few wheezy breaths that distressed her more. Despite the the building fear she felt from being tied to a frigorific metal chair, Shara felt no discomfort.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Shara would have asked had her gargling noises formed into legible words. Her breath felt frighteningly cool in her throat and mouth, so she lifted her head from the chair's head rest and looked down at her chest. Her eyes widened like never before, even wider than the time she had seen his sister's abused body. Shara's mouth gaped and her fear heightened beyond limits she could imagine. Dark thoughts raced through her mind, which did not help ease her state of mind as she sat on the cold, metal chair, eyes staring and lips greatly parted. Then, after her brain ran out of horror movie images, it fell silent and became vacuous. Shara sat for the next ten minutes doing nothing, not a single twitch nor a glance at whatever had just made a clicking noise. She could only stare helplessly in despondency.

Shara's entire torso had been split open with multiple rusted, steel hooks holding the flaps apart. The hooks' ends were hammered into the chair's back, so the flaps were open wide as if they were window folds. The flaps consisted of her skin, a thin layer of fat, some dehydrated muscle, and ribs that reflected an eerie yellow cast from the lone lamp. It seemed that nothing had been removed since her heart still lay in between her rising and falling lungs, beating quickly with Shara's fear, though it appeared bluish in color from the low temperatures. As her prying eyes studied every detail of her innards, she noticed her other organs, such as her intestines, kidneys, and liver, barely keeping themselves from slipping out and tearing the rest of the delicate tissues that connected them to her weakened body. A foul stench rose from her open torso, but Shara's shock kept her from gagging under the horrid smell.

"Good evening, Shara. Glad to see that you've finally woken up," spoke someone in front of Shara in a loud, clear voice. She looked up at the man standing over two meters in height and gargled in response.

"What was that?" the man bent over slightly, turned his head and cupped a hand next to his ear. His mocking posture made Shara rest her head back on the head rest and glare at him.

"Oh, yeah," he continued enthusiastically, "Wondering why you didn't feel anything?" Shara gave a subtle nod and bit her tongue in anticipation. She looked away quickly with a wheeze that would have been a "Hmph!" Shara then looked down at her arm and half-gasped, half-gargled at wriggling, distorting skin marked with several tears. Some of these tears contained visible, tiny beetles crawling around and sifting through the ravaged strands of muscle of her arm. She quickly looked back at the tall man with new fear on her face.

"While you were down, we gave you a high dosage of... special morphines. You won't be feeling pain for a while, but the look on your face makes up for the screaming and struggling. Oh, and if you could see your neck, you'd know why you can't talk," the man chuckled as if he had just told a joke, his arms crossed and his head tipped back to throw his maniacal laughing at the bland ceiling. Shara looked down at her torso again and made a raspy gulp. She started to imagine the amount of pain she would feel if the drugs wore off. In desperation, Shara closed her eyes and shook her head violently to rid herself of the dismal thoughts.

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"Nothing's... broken?" Sheila asked, perplexed. We searched the entire house, but not one thing was harmed inside. We did, however, find some glass shards from the potion. Maybe I really did overreact to some cocky kid's prank. Sighing in relief, I walked to my bedroom where Sheila was still inspecting. I snickered when I noticed her pouting.

"Honestly, I don't understand how you can live in all this dust!"

"Speak for yourself. Don't you live in a mud hut?"

"Oh, ha ha. My house is just dirty 'cause of all the rats that sneak inside. What's your excuse?" Sheila placed her hands on her hips in a disapproving gesture. It was ironic for a person of poverty who lived in a run-down house to view a middle-class man with such disappointment about his hygiene. Trying to hold back a scoff, I turned to look at something else, but I managed to find myself staring at my own reflection in a mirror I had yet to hang on a wall.

Thin because of my light eating habits, I always wore clothes that were loose on me, and the gardening I do everyday left its mark on my clothing through dirt stains, tiny holes, and faded color. My skin resembled the skin of a white onion, but my hair stood proudly on my temple with a reddish-brown tone. Around my neck, I wore a small silver chain with a key at the end that would open the door to my secret stash, and the inconspicuous brass rod connected to my red bracelet would unlock a black box I kept with my stash. Across my left cheek rested a long, dark brown mark that many have mistaken for some hideous birthmark. Actually, I got that scar from a fire long ago when my father dropped his cigarette in his barn. Every time I saw my scar, the image of flames licking my clothes would enter my mind, and if I rubbed it, I would feel the intense heat of a metal bar my cheek landed upon, its searing touch like razor-sharp glass shards with liquefied red peppers at the tips.

Then I noticed Sheila looking over my shoulder. Even with my body blocking her reflection, I could still spot her dirt-matted face, covering up the soft pale skin I saw only once in the time I knew her. Her shoulders were permanently squared from her time of bearing the pressure to feed her two younger sisters and maintain her small garden. Sheila was always a tough person, even when her father left his family because of his frustration over the absence of a son. Her mother then fell to depression, unable to take care of her children since she would repeatedly drink until she fell asleep or wake up with severe hangovers. But Sheila never complained. She worked hard, carrying heavy pails of water everyday and hoeing her small garden each season. She would pick the meager vegetables and apples to make bitter stew, and she would tirelessly help her brothers whenever they stuck themselves with a thorn or complained of a stomachache. I would always offer to help, but Sheila's pride kept her from accepting any. Soon, her mother hung herself and her brothers grew to age when an Expert swung by, offering the two young girls schooling in the main town. Sheila never heard from them since then, but Little Robbie would occasionally deliver envelopes with some coins inside. Sheila's group of companions slowly dwindled down to Ruckus and I. Everybody else was too busy to notice a lanky farm girl dressed in old rags sewn together.

Ruckus butted his head against my shoulder. He snorted at the mirror and whipped his tail impatiently. He had this uncanny way of knowing what I was thinking and often shared my emotions. Nodding, I moved the mirror aside to uncover small shelves lined with books I have not read in years. After pulling some of them out, I flipped open a tiny wooden cover in the back. A keyhole lay underneath, and I took off my necklace to use its key. Meanwhile, Sheila crouched next to me, looking confused and interested at the same time. As the lock clicked open, her lips made a small "o" in surprise.

"I trust you won't tell anyone?" I asked with my fingers patiently wrapped around my safe's latch.

"We've known each other for years, Jacob. You know me better. I just wish you'd show me this before." I smiled at her, and opened the wooden door to my safe. Then I reached into the far back, eventually pulling out a long black box, invisible inside the dark compartment. I pulled out my other key and opened up the box. Sheila gasped when picked up its contents.

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There it stands, ominous, looming over the rest of the world like a tyrannical king. I walk across the blood-red meadows toward my destination, stepping past mutilated bodies strewn about everywhere. Their dreadful, rotten scent purges my memories of what blooming flowers used to smell like. Even the sky turns a rose red color, and the brown clouds gather above me, showering everyone's blood over the land. Soon, my hair drapes over my scarred face, sticking to my eyes. I grunt in anger, pushing the tainted hair away, and watch as a single drop, sparkling like ruby, falls upon my arm. It leaves behind a slimy trail as the liquid orb travels down to my wrist, where I wear a bracelet holding a small vial. The blood seeps in through the tiny cork I had sealed the bottle with, my eyes widening in fury as the vile fluid stains the last strands of goldenrod hair.

Day 90 of Year 7133 from Awakening

The Coros can be a pain to take care of, mainly because they are so picky. It took me three days to reach Bastain Lake: Ruckus' favorite one. However, we only spent a single day relaxing by the shore before that little bird came. Then we trekked for another trio of days to reach my home again. The uneventful journey back proved to be a subtle foreshadowing.

Everything seemed normal. Brea the village Watchwomen nodded toward me and Ruckus with a smile, all the while sharpening her steel cutlass. As we walked backed to my house, Little Robbie came barreling into me again by accident in his rush to deliver letters. Ferra was hanging her clothes out to dry as usual, barely glancing up when I said "hello." Old Yorick watched with squinted eyes from his rocking chair that rested on a large porch. Behind him in his house, Susan cooked some omelets-Yorick's favorite-and the delicious scent traveled with the smoke coming out of the chimney. It made Ruckus' mouth water, so I pulled out a strip of jerky for him to nibble on.

I gasped when we finally made it home. Past the crowd of people murmuring around my house, the windows were completely shattered aside from one that only had a hole in it, and the front door lay in two pieces on the ground half a meter from the doorframe. Ruckus snorted in confusion, catching the attention of the crowd. Everyone turned to see me, falling silent as pitiful expressions took over their faces. They spread apart to let me through, so I sprinted forth only to be stopped by Sheila.

"Jacob! You canâEUTMt go in!" she pleaded, struggling to hold me back by an arm.

"Why the hell not! ThatâEUTMs my house! My house!" I roared at her. With a forceful push, I knocked Sheila onto the ground, but Ruckus galloped his way in front of me, wielding his horn in a threatening posture. The Coros were known to have excellent smell, making me hesitate to push Ruckus away as well. He gave me a look in which his pupils narrowed and he half-neighed, half-snorted, telling me that it would be unwise to enter my ransacked home.

"WhatâEUTMs going on!" I shouted at everybody behind me. Their cold silence only infuriated me further as my fists shook with anger. Sheila slowly stood up, patting her hand-stitched dress.

"Eral said that someone threw some potion through one of the windows. Next thing we know, there's an explosion. Terk sampled the air around your house and confirmed it was toxic. We were waiting for a group of Experts from the main town to cleanse the air when you came back."

Solemnly, Sheila placed a hand on my shoulder, but I was too blind in rage to feel it. I almost walked toward the doorway again when Ruckus rubbed his horn against my neck. Taking a deep breath, I forced my anger down, taking another glance at my home. When I looked closely, I noticed a faint green tint hanging around the entire structure like an aura, and a subtle smell of chocolate entered my nose. Sheila tried to comfort me by rubbing my back, looking at me with worry that I might charge off again.

Suddenly, the ragged hems of her dress rustled as a strong gale blew past from behind. Three men dressed in long, white robes strode in from the crowd, waving their enhanced fans at the house. Holding these shiny, silver fans were crinkly old hands that contrasted the golden scroll work decorating their silk robes. For protection, the robes covered the Experts' faces save for two eye slits. The top of the robes rose into a pointed peak, indicating their specialty in the poisons field.

For five whole minutes, we watched the Experts blow the toxic fumes back inside the building before they entered as well. My muscles tensed in anticipation while sweat cascaded down my face. As I fretted, Sheila stood next to me, rubbing my back gently, and Ruckus stood at my other side, whipping his tail around in boredom. We heard a loud chant from inside that echoed through the open air. Afterward, a gust of wind escaped through the window frames and doorway, whooshing away as fast as Little Robbie could run.

"Now you can go in," Sheila sighed, and I started to relax. We waited for the Experts to come outside and say, "Everything is alright; we fixed everything so that it looks like nothing had happened," a statement rarely heard nowadays ever since they demanded irrational payment for complete reconstruction. Then my nose tingled. When Sheila"s deep earthen aroma registered in my nostrils, I smacked my forehead with my palm.

"Ah! I forgot to buy you a soap bar again!" People near us looked at me in disbelief as if I had forgotten about my outburst. For a moment, I felt like I was going insane, too. Sheila giggled, lightly pinching my arm.

"Don't worry. I still have a couple buckets of water I can recycle. I can clean up well enough."

"But you've gone without a decent bath for-" I started to say when the Experts returned. They filed into a row before me, their silent gait and flapping robes giving the illusion that they glided across the grass.

"The potion was mixed by an amateur. There is no doubt that a rowdy child did this," the tallest Expert explained. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief that some kid threw a bomb he concocted into a random house-that plus none of the children in our village was a trouble-maker. Before I could ask if the bomb had damaged anything, the three elderly men strode past me back to their temple. A frown took over me while my eyes surveyed the ground around my house. Aside from the Experts' footprints, the ground remained uniform, so either the criminal bought an expensive, strong bottle that would not break when it hit glass or the person found a way to break the glass from afar first and lob the potion perfectly through the tiny hole. I shook my head, and walked into my home. Sheila came with, followed by Ruckus who seemed a little more excited.

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I pretty much free-wrote all of of this, so I can't say I don't agree with you.

Three points I'd like to explain:
For the main character, I do realize that I barely focused on him other than the occasional tidbits. While not intentional, I plan on revealing his attributes piece by piece with each part.
It is necessary for me to go into detail about subjects like the Coros or The South because these are brand new concepts that need to be expounded upon so the readers can understand these elements' parts in the other parts. Unfortunately for you, that means you have to read.
It may seem like I am jumping into the main plot quickly, but I am not. I haven't even finished the exposition of the plot.

I've never read any of Tolkien's books, so if my writing happens to turn out similar, then I apologize. Thank you for your frank opinion.

At 9/15/12 02:43 AM, mhzinski wrote: The characterization at the beginning of being miserable and tortured and war is hell and stuff is all very cliche narration on the subject. It's usable readable writing but it simply is very bland and doesn't providing and interesting perspective on the subject and doesn't make the character any more distinguishable from any young adult grizzled by struggle now filled with regret and remorse. That sort of back story is nice for a background character, not the main one.

There is also very little to explain and relate to the character as the story continues. It's a lot of "here's all the stuff I made up, try and keep up and go along with it". It's frustrating if the reader is just being handed a folder full of nomenclature with very little context and the person explaining it hasn't been characterized in the slightest and the audience does not yet care about them. There needs to much slower pacing to the epic scale of what's trying to be achieving to prevent it from looking like Tolkien-esque fanfiction.

3/10 writing.

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Fixed, sorry.

It sounds like such a cliche, but I found what I was looking for only to realize that my search cost me something more valuable than the answer. What is even more cliche is that my journey to find it caused real pandemonium like what one sees in movies. Almost everyone is dead now because of me, and there is nothing I can do to make sure their deaths were not in vain. I feel so stupid for doing it. My greed overrode my common sense, and for my foolish mistake, my closest friends died. Even her, Sheila. She died, too. She did not deserve to die; there was absolutely no reason for her to perish in such a cruel way. Sheila, please forgive me. I know I wronged you - wronged everyone - but I promise you that I will make things right. No more battles and no more searches. I am ending this journey today. Hopefully, when all is done, I will join you in heaven... If my actions do not commit me to hell first.

Day 87 of Year 7133 from Awakening

"Ruckus, come here, boy! Come here!" I yelled to my Coro, a small, yellow equine creature with thick fur. The Experts are truly mystical; they created the Coros just a few dozen years ago, and I was lucky enough to find a stray babe wandering into my backyard. Ruckus has been my closest companion ever since. He started out malnourished with thin fur matted in dirt and wobbly legs. After I nursed him back to health, his fur would gleam in the sunlight, radiating a bright goldenrod color that made children squeal after him. Once Ruckus turned four, he grew a single curved horn on his forehead - a way of showing dominance, the Experts say - and an emerald green diamond eventually took shape just below it. Ironically, his hooves became dark brown and their texture looked like he had been trekking in mud all his life although their dark coloration indicated that he was healthy. Ruckus' snorts did not sound like the ones from wild horses that gallop freely in the east, but they echoed harmonious tunes that lulled the sensitive to sleep. Many told me that his voice was beautiful and that his gait when he sprints are graceful, a testimony to the marvelous skills of the Experts. For 16 years, Ruckus put up with my troubles, soothing me with his loyal presence each time I explode at bad news from the Bookies.

Ruckus clip-clopped his way to me from across the field where a serene lake rested - his favorite spot. I roared with laughter as he tried to lick my cheek and rub his head against mine at the same time. Pushing his side against my hands, he snorted impatiently, so I complied, ruffling the fur on his back. While doing this, I noticed a bird shyly hiding between RuckusâEUTM romp and tail. It hopped into view when our eyes made contact.

"You made a new friend, Ruckus?" I grinned as I reached toward the bird cautiously, not recognizing what species it was. The little creature nervously hopped side-to-side until it finally leaped onto my wrist. Ruckus turned to get a better look at the bird. He looked surprised to realize that he had been carrying a hitchhiker this entire time. Unlike its reaction to me, the bird chirped happily when Ruckus gently rubbed his snout against its wing. He always had a way of befriending everyone, no matter the species.

"What's this?" I questioned when I spotted a small note rolled up and tied to one of the bird's legs. After I slid the note out of the knot, the bird jumped off of my wrist to land on Ruckus' forehead, dropping the light pink string that held the note to its leg. I grew more suspicious when I saw that the string had created a small impression on the bird's leg, evident that the bird practically grew up with the note by its side, and miraculously, the small piece of paper survived undamaged. I finally unrolled the note and read it out loud, slowly sounding out each word since they were written in a tiny size with flamboyant handwriting.

"The thing you seek lies within Und'leek." "Und'leek"? I have never heard of a place named with an ugly combination of modern and archaic tongue, but the cryptic message seemed to be directed toward me, and only me. Since I was a child, I wondered about a treasure. During the Awakening, it is said that one organization named the Lighters hid a treasure so great that it was valued more than life. However, even the Experts debate on what the treasure was, never mind its existence. Some claim the answer is simple, jewels and gold measured in tons that defy imagination. Others say that it might be the hidden bloodline of the late Hubrio, a royal family whose last descendents invented the Experts and saved the world from countless plagues. The stories the Experts told fascinated me, captivated my mind, as I imagined finding the Chest of Awakening and becoming the most famous man alive. It was the greatest mystery in history, and any time I find clues about it, I stash them away in a secret compartment in my home.

However, nothing I have ever found came close to this damning note: "Und'leek." "Leek" was an ancient term dubbed by the Experts recently to name a failed creation. They had attempted to create an animal that looked feral but was as intelligent as our kind. Not only did the Leeks hold a short lifespan, but they became notorious for masterfully hiding valuables in plain sight. Despite their thieving abilities, Leeks were only half as intelligent as a babe. "Und" comes from a word that lost its usage around a century after the Awakening: "Undi." It meant "great treasure" and was used to name a major town that served as a trade center before the Awakening. It made no sense that anyone would rename Undi as Und'leek for there was no reason to, especially since the town was destroyed centuries ago and replaced by Farl. In fact, I only lived two miles from the town.

My reasoning left only option: The South. Few have dared to explore the cold lands south of our known world, and all of those courageous adventurers ended up returning mad. They consistently babbled on and on about little boys and girls prancing around a fire pit full of human bodies, and all of them told stories of seeing our two moons crashing into each other each night that they spent in The South. Some Experts figured there was some truth in these tales since they were precise, but when they attempted to remotely observe The South with an enhanced telescope or some other gadget, they all grew as insane as the persons who actually walked in. Everyone eventually assumed that The South held some kind of magical power and wanted its secrets to stay hidden. It was evident from the victims' memory loss of their navigation that something was guarding The South, magical or not. Even when people tried leaving physical marks to map their path, any thing they left behind was removed or the entrance was restored to its previous state.

"Come on, Ruckus," I called as I stood up. The little bird abruptly flew away when I spoke, darting off into the horizon. Vexed, I furled my eye brows, but I decided finding an Expert to talk to was more important than pondering the little bird's fate.

---

Critique is appreciated, but no negative hodge-podge. I'd also like to get a consensus on whether or not this story is worth continuing. My time is limited, and I'd rather not spend so much effort on writing something no one will read.

It sounds like such a cliché, but I found what I was looking for only to realize that my search cost me something more valuable than the answer. What is even more cliché is that my journey to find it caused real pandemonium like what one sees in movies. Almost everyone is dead now because of me, and there is nothing I can do to make sure their deaths were not in vain. I feel so stupid for doing it. My greed overrode my common sense, and for my foolish mistake, my closest friends died. Even her, Sheila. She died, too. She did not deserve to die; there was absolutely no reason for her to perish in such a cruel way. Sheila, please forgive me. I know I wronged you âEU" wronged everyone âEU" but I promise you that I will make things right. No more battles and no more searches. I am ending this journey today. Hopefully, when all is done, I will join you in heavenâEU¦ If my actions do not commit me to hell first.

Day 87 of Year 7133 from Awakening

âEUoeRuckus, come here, boy! Come here!âEU I yelled to my Coro, a small, yellow equine creature with thick fur. The Experts are truly mystical; they created the Coros just a few dozen years ago, and I was lucky enough to find a stray babe wandering into my backyard. Ruckus has been my closest companion ever since. He started out malnourished with thin fur matted in dirt and wobbly legs. After I nursed him back to health, his fur would gleam in the sunlight, radiating a bright goldenrod color that made children squeal after him. Once Ruckus turned four, he grew a single curved horn on his forehead âEU" a way of showing dominance, the Experts say âEU" and an emerald green diamond eventually took shape just below it. Ironically, his hooves became dark brown and their texture looked like he had been trekking in mud all his life although their dark coloration indicated that he was healthy. RuckusâEUTM snorts did not sound like the ones from wild horses that gallop freely in the east, but they echoed harmonious tunes that lulled the sensitive to sleep. Many told me that his voice was beautiful and that his gait when he sprints are graceful, a testimony to the marvelous skills of the Experts. For 16 years, Ruckus put up with my troubles, soothing me with his loyal presence each time I explode at bad news from the Bookies.
Ruckus clip-clopped his way to me from across the field where a serene lake rested âEU" his favorite spot. I roared with laughter as he tried to lick my cheek and rub his head against mine at the same time. Pushing his side against my hands, he snorted impatiently, so I complied, ruffling the fur on his back. While doing this, I noticed a bird shyly hiding between RuckusâEUTM romp and tail. It hopped into view when our eyes made contact.

âEUoeYou made a new friend, Ruckus?âEU I grinned as I reached toward the bird cautiously, not recognizing what species was. The little creature nervously hopped side-to-side until it finally leaped onto my wrist. Ruckus turned to get a better look at the bird. He looked surprised to realize that he had been carrying a hitchhiker this entire time. Unlike its reaction to me, the bird chirped happily when Ruckus gently rubbed his snout against its wing. He always had a way of befriending everyone, no matter the species.

âEUoeWhatâEUTMs this?âEU I questioned when I spotted a small note rolled up and tied to one of the birdâEUTMs legs. After I slid the note out of the knot, the bird jumped off of my wrist to land on RuckusâEUTM forehead, dropping the light pink string that held the note to its leg. I grew more suspicious when I saw that the string had created a small impression on the birdâEUTMs leg, evident that the bird practically grew up with the note by its side, and miraculously, the small piece of paper survived undamaged. I finally unrolled the note and read it out loud, slowly sounding out each word since they were written in a tiny size with flamboyant handwriting.

âEUoeThe thing you seek lies within UndâEUTMleek.âEU âEUoeUndâEUTMleekâEU? I have never heard of a place named with an ugly combination of modern and archaic tongue, but the cryptic message seemed to be directed toward me, and only me. Since I was a child, I wondered about a treasure. During the Awakening, it is said that one organization named the Lighters hid a treasure so great that it was valued more than life. However, even the Experts debate on what the treasure was, never mind its existence. Some claim the answer is simple, jewels and gold measured in tons that defy imagination. Others say that it might be the hidden bloodline of the late Hubrio, a royal family whose last descendents invented the Experts and saved the world from countless plagues. The stories the Experts told fascinated me, captivated my mind, as I imagined finding the Chest of Awakening and becoming the most famous man alive. It was the greatest mystery in history, and any time I find clues about it, I stash them away in a secret compartment in my home.

However, nothing I have ever found came close to this damning note: âEUoeUndâEUTMleek.âEU âEUoeLeekâEU was an ancient term dubbed by the Experts recently to name a failed creation. They had attempted to create an animal that looked feral but was as intelligent as our kind. Not only did the Leeks hold a short lifespan, but they became notorious for masterfully hiding valuables in plain sight. Despite their thieving abilities, Leeks were only half as intelligent as a babe. âEUoeUndâEU comes from a word that lost its usage around a century after the Awakening: âEUoeUndi.âEU It meant âEUoegreat treasureâEU and was used to name a major town that served as a trade center before the Awakening. It made no sense that anyone would rename Undi as UndâEUTMleek for there was no reason to, especially since the town was destroyed centuries ago and replaced by Farl. In fact, I only lived two miles from the town.

My reasoning left only option: The South. Few have dared to explore the cold lands south of our known world, and all of those courageous adventurers ended up returning mad. They consistently babbled on and on about little boys and girls prancing around a fire pit full of human bodies, and all of them told stories of seeing our two moons crashing into each other each night that they spent in The South. Some Experts figured there was some truth in these tales since they were precise, but when they attempted to remotely observe The South with an enhanced telescope or some other gadget, they all grew as insane as the persons who actually walked in. Everyone eventually assumed that The South held some kind of magical power and wanted its secrets to stay hidden. It was evident from the victimsâEUTM memory loss of their navigation that something was guarding The South, magical or not. Even when people tried leaving physical marks to map their path, any thing they left behind was removed or the entrance was restored to its previous state.

âEUoeCome on, Ruckus,âEU I called as I stood up. The little bird abruptly flew away when I spoke, darting off into the horizon. Vexed, I furled my eye brows, but I decided finding an Expert to talk to was more important than pondering the little birdâEUTMs fate.

---

Written words' meanings,
Stories, haikus, and odes penned,
Spark the open mind.

---

The white trees sway forth,
The plumes of toxic clouds spread,
Remember those gone.

~Depes~

---

Tranquility, peace
What are they in today's world?
Silence or money?

---

You have a decent use of vocabulary, but your first paragraph needs some fine tuning. A couple of the descriptions are off-putting as far as how you arranged them such as "He sat and read upon his desk, decrepit and fragile, but bearing much sentimental value." It almost seems like you're describing the person and not the desk itself. Also, you mention that the house is "secluded from others." Other what? Your first subject was light, so it implies that the house was secluded from other light. Or did you mean other homes?
Mestophales has a point, too. You started off by describing the rain using a simile. Usually, you'd describe the scene a little more, but you went to a light radiating from a house, and the scene description feels incomplete.
In addition, you made cursory descriptions, never really expanding on anything and not really developing much of a thought. There's also a need for character development. You began with a very brief piece of background information on Haas; that's a good start if he's one of your main charactrers. Be a bit more in depth with your detail.
When you write the dialogue with "he/she/it said" coming afterward, it is typically formatted "Hi," he said; not "Hi." He said.
A lot of your sentences, not including the dialogue, use the same basic structure. Try to make use of a variety to make your story more interesting and less mundane to read.
One last thing is that your characters seem to have the same dialect and way of speaking. Remember, these are two different people. I'm not saying to make some kind of drastic change, but subtle ones, enough so that they don't sound like identical twins always parroting each other.

~Depes Crystalline~

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Aw darn, I could be a programmer, but I animate with poweproint............ Why me.... :'(