# Of Fire And Ice - A Young Adult Romance



## krishenry

krishenry said:


> Hey, everybody! Been working on this story the  last couple of days. My very first YA Romance story which I hope to one  day publish and sell. Inspired after reading _*"Easy" by Tammera Webber*_. *A MUST READ/AUDIO LISTEN*.
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> My story is still in the development stages, but I plan to have it be  about 15 chapters long and I have 3 written so far with chapter 4 in the  works. I hope you will enjoy this
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> Just let me know if you want more and I'll do my best to get it up. Wish me luck and happy reading!


 Of Fire And Ice​ By Kristen Crawford​  Chapter One
  I made my way down the quiet streets, pulling my jacket closer to me as a chilly autumn breeze blew through, hitting my face dead on. Winter was right around the corner and Mother Nature let everyone know it. My college classmate, Lindsay, had invited me for coffee at Starbucks that morning. Being the caffeine addicts we are, I couldn’t say no. And it was just down the street from campus, so it wouldn’t take long at all for either of us to get there. Or any other coffee-loving students like us for that matter. I told her I’d meet her there as soon as I double-checked my morning homework and freshened up. So there I was…

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Entering the shop warmed me immediately as the door closed behind me and I scanned the room slowly, searching for my friend.[/FONT]

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“Becky!”[/FONT]

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I looked towards the voice, a slim, bubbly, blue-eyed blonde waving her arm to grab my attention. Lindsay wasn’t just a roommate, she’d also become my best friend. Funny, considering we were nearly yin and yang. I was quiet, somewhat laid back, while she was energetic and a bit silly. Her cheerleader looks giving her that innocent yet kick-butt-as-needed appeal. And as the weeks passed, she sort of grew on me.  [/FONT]

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I smiled and headed towards her, taking my place in the opposite side of the booth from which she sat.[/FONT]

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 “Hey, Lindsay. You haven’t gotten your coffee yet?”[/FONT]

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“I didn’t want to seem impolite.” she said. “Thought it would be more fun to stand in the line together.”[/FONT]

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“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. You know how it is in this weather. So hard to know what to wear.”[/FONT]

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“This weather? Girl, I’d say that’s an _everyday _thing!”[/FONT]

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“That’s for sure.” I agreed, a slight chuckle in my voice.[/FONT]

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I shrugged off my coat, setting it aside to reveal the yellow sweater underneath, resting my hands on my blue jeaned lap, the fabric still cool under my fingers from the chill outdoors. I gave them a few brisk rubs with my hands to warm them, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally shock myself afterwards.[/FONT]

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Moments later, we both stood in line, about three or four people - most likely students - in front of us, a couple more behind.[/FONT]

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“So what are you doing after exams?”[/FONT]

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“Ugh…don’t even say that word!” I hated exams. Tests in general. Sure, I had a 4.0 GPA, and I liked my teachers and most of my classes. But that doesn’t mean I liked _everything_ about them.[/FONT]

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Lindsay smiled. “You know I had to. Being so close to vacation time.” I roll my eyes at her. “So? What will you be doing?”[/FONT]

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“I dunno. My parents are always working so I’ll probably just be spending it alone.”[/FONT]

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“That’s no fun! Maybe you can do a bit of guy hunting to pass the time.”[/FONT]

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I rolled my eyes again at her smirk. I’d had many boyfriends through the years, but they never stuck. And I wasn’t about to try again anytime soon. Not that I wasn’t a looker myself. I too had that slim build, with chocolate brown hair that fell past my shoulders, a bit of natural wave included, and bright green eyes. And I was certainly nice enough…I tried to tell Lindsay the ‘Maybe I’m just too boring’ line, which earned me a jab to the ribs and a pep talk.  [/FONT]

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After placing our orders and receiving our drinks, we prepared them to our tastes and headed back to our booth in silence.[/FONT]

  But once seated again, I threw her question back at her. “What about you? What are your plans for break?”

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She took a sip of her coffee, glancing up at me mid-sip before swallowing, cradling her cup in both hands. “We’re hoping to fly down to Florida this year. A bit of a change from the snow and ice. But I’m worried my mom may get too spoiled and not want to come back.”[/FONT]

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I held in a laugh, imagining Lindsay’s father dragging her mom back to the plane, tied like a classic damsel-in-distress while kicking her legs and screaming like some little kid.[/FONT]

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“My parents are always traveling. Dad gets called who-knows-where and Mom tags along, practically by instinct. It’s not a boring life, but it’s not always fun either. But at least I’m here and we do still have holidays.”[/FONT]

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“At least this year we’ll have something in common.”[/FONT]

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“Just don’t get eaten by alligators,” I teased with a smile, tilting my own coffee to my lips.[/FONT]

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She laughed and I laughed with her, the subject of exams and boyfriends briefly forgotten. Briefly.[/FONT]


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## empresstheresa

First of all, don't have the narrator use the present tense.  It doesn't sound right.



> I make my way down the quiet streets
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> I look towards the voice,
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> I smile and head towards her,



Use the past tense.

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Who are these people?  Is one of them the main character?  What kind of story will this be?  Does their conversation give any clue about what will happen later?

Here's the first page of my own book, _Empress Theresa_...........

> .....      I’m Theresa, the only child of Edward and Elizabeth Sullivan,  and I hope it’s not bragging to say I was cute as heck at age ten.  Everybody in the Sullivan clan said so.  I was the princess in the Sullivan family of Framingham, Massachusetts because besides being cute I was a whiz in school.  All the Sullivans expected great things from me.
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> ......Nobody could have dreamed of what I would do a few years later, and nobody would have believed it if they’d been told,  but when this story began I was a little girl who didn’t have much of a clue about anything.  My job as a kid was to figure out what the heck was going on and what to do about it.  It’s not easy when you’re young and everything is brand new.
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> ......My father was in the Navy.  He said I had to be the captain of my ship but sometimes the seas would be rough.  I had to learn all I could about the world.  Yeah, well, why should I be worrying about it in the fourth grade?
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> ......I was home alone at age ten while my parents worked but I was safe.  Mom and dad installed one of those new child safety alert systems.  All I had to do was quickly squeeze two buttons on my bracelet three times and the whole street would be blasted with a siren’s earsplitting wail.  Neighbors were always around and the security company would alert the police.
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> .....I had good parents.  By the time I was ten they convinced me I should get myself through the school years without drug or boy problems.  There are girls like that, you know.  You wouldn’t think so to look at the news.  I find it strange that people are interested in news about troubled girls, but wouldn’t want to associate with them.
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> .....Our house was next to a pond close to the river where all the neighborhood’s kids had spent many happy hours looking for turtles and frogs.  I was lounging on the deck reading a book on the school summer list.
> 
> .....Taking a momentary break from the book, I noticed a red fox walking along the pond's edge.





> ​



1.  The title hints that Theresa is or will be important, but here she seems to be living in ordinary circumstances.  Her parents seem to work because she's home alone.  How will she become an "Empress"?

2.  She is cute and bright. 

3.  She has good family support.

4.  She will do remarkable things in the future.

5.  Apparently nothing has happened yet.

6.  She is being raised to be a good girl.

7.  She doesn't seem to have any worries. 

8.  We already know everything that can be known about a ten year old girl who hasn't done anything yet.

9.  The action will begin with the appearance of the fox.  And we're off and running!   :cheers:


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## krishenry

Guess I will have to do more editing then...And I worked so hard on this too. Then again it is my first. Shouldn't be too hard to change it to past though. I'd been so anxious to get it down before it slipped away, I wasn't thinking 100%

And to answer your questions, 1) Becky is the main character 2) It's Young Adult Romance as stated told in Becky's POV and 3) Yes, it hints it

Thanks for the feedback. I will get this fixed and reposted with the revision once i feel less tired


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## krishenry

It's fixed now I think  I'll work on the other chapters soon


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## popsprocket

This seems like a good first attempt at writing.

There are a few things that I'll point out:

1) There is a voice change in the last sentence of the opening passage. It starts out as first person past tense, but the last sentence changes the voice to an active narrator. Strictly speaking, the POV character is the narrator, but they aren't necessarily _narrating_ the story... If that makes sense.

2) It's hard to say without reading the rest, but I don't see the importance in this scene. It's mostly about cold weather and coffee shop etiquette. A first chapter is the most important part of a work for pulling in readers. It needs to be a _hook _that makes people think "Yes! I must keep reading!"

3) I'm unsure about the dialogue. I don't truly understand much about the existing relationship the girls have, but it fluctuates in how formal they are with each other.

Over all it's a good start!


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## krishenry

Thanks for the review and critique  

I apologize if this confused you a bit but everything will be better explained on how they met in chapter 3. I just wanted a unique opening for my story and chose this one. I will be posting the next 2 chapters shortly.


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## krishenry

*Of Fire And Ice - Chapter 2*



> Here's chapter 2  Hope you will like it



*Of Fire And Ice
*

*By Kristen Crawford
*​*  Chapter Two*
  After coffee and returning to campus, I entered the building and headed up the stairs to my Animal Biology class. Yep. Animal lover. And I was hoping to become another zoologist of the future. Where would it take me? Local zoo? Park reserve? Alaska? Who knows. Like they say, ‘The sky’s the limit’.
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[/FONT]I stepped through the door finding the class already almost half full, some of the students sitting, others standing, a mix of their conversations filling my ears. I tuned them out politely as I headed toward the back, my seat the fourth down in the third row. My backpack fell with a soft thud as I let it fall from my shoulder onto the white linoleum floor beside my chair and opened it, pushing a side of hair behind my ear as I reached in to gather my books and notes.
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[/FONT]“Morning.”
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[/FONT]I looked up at the source of the voice to see Patrick smiling at me. Patrick was one of those people who fell into the “nerdy” category in most schools. Slightly pudgy but not necessarily unfit, glasses and bright red-orange hair that always looked like he just got out of bed, contrasting hazel eyes. He didn’t have many friends and while I didn’t really consider him one myself, I didn’t dislike him either. 
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[/FONT]He smiled as he leaned down a bit, voice lowering to a whisper. “Hey, would you happen to have a pencil I could borrow? I must’ve forgotten mine in my rush this morning. I have more, but they’re fresh.”
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[/FONT]I nodded and pulled one out from my front backpack flap, holding it out to him. A pre-sharpened No. 2. I knew all too well how time-consuming (and embarrassing if timed just right) sharpening brand new pencils could be. Even with those electric sharpeners. I’m more partial to pens and mechanical pencils myself, though I will still use the classics when I feel it’s needed. This happened to be one.
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[/FONT]“Thanks,” he tells me, still smiling as he takes it from my fingers. “I owe you one.” 
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[/FONT]I returned the smile and we both glanced toward the front of the classroom, straightening in our seats as the teacher entered the room. Mr. Collinsworth - _Gerald_ Collinsworth – was about 5’9, in his early 30s, black hair and brown eyes with glasses, wearing a lab coat over his regular clothes that had been buttoned so just his legs and feet showed underneath. He looked more like he belonged in a science or forensics lab than a classroom, but then again, he clearly knew what he was doing. And he was kind and patient, a helpful state-of-the-art guy everybody liked. Myself included.
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[/FONT]He cleared his throat, watching as the remainder of students took their seats.

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[/FONT]“Good morning, class.”
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[/FONT]“Good morning, Mr. Collinsworth.” We all replied in unison.
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[/FONT]“I hope you all are prepared for more essay reading. Ms. Fox.”
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[/FONT]I lifted my head and he nodded, gesturing toward the whiteboard. I nodded back, butterflies suddenly in my stomach as I gathered my papers and headed over. I could feel him and the rest of the class watching me as I kept my head down, mentally noting which parts to read as I glanced at my assignment and I cleared my throat softly before I began.
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[/FONT]“The gray wolf, scientifically known as _canis lupus_, is a member of the _Canidae _family and also the largest, with the males begin bigger than the females. It is one of the world’s most well researched animals, residing natively to wilderness and remote areas of North America, Eurasia and North Africa, roaming the earth for over 150,000 years.
  It is a bit larger than a german shepherd or sled dog, males weighing 95 to 99lbs and females at 79 to 85lbs, although size and weight do depend on the breed.  Wolves weighing over  120lbs are uncommon, though exceptionally large individuals have been recorded in Alaska, Canada,and the former Soviet Union. The heaviest recorded gray wolf in North America was killed on 70 Mile River in east-central Alaska on July 12, 1939 and weighed 175lb, while the heaviest recorded wolf in Eurasia was killed after World War II in Kobeliaky,  Poltavskij Region, Ukrainian SSR and weighed 190lbs.
  Wolves are highly social and territorial both visibly and vocally and hunt in packs and though their sense of smell can only reach about 3kms, their sense of hearing surpasses that of even the fox. And they eat various types of large and small prey even fruits and grasses and they can go up to two weeks without food. 
  They mate for life, usually in late winter or whenever sources are plentiful and gestation lasts 62 to 75 days with the pups born in summer in the safety of the den, which they can leave at the age of three weeks and by autumn they are mature enough to join their packs in hunts.
  Enemies of the wolf include bears, hyenas, but mostly tigers and humans, humans being the most responsible for their population and habitat decline and is now considered an endangered species.”
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[/FONT]I looked up with a shy smile at the scattered applause, mentally breathing a sigh of relief as the teacher thanked me and I headed back to my seat. Gazing at the clock, I realized that only seven to ten minutes had passed. This was going to be a looong hour…
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[/FONT]A week or two later, Lindsay and I were packing up, our room now in disarray as we sorted through clothes and necessities, trying to decide what to and not to take with us. We had the next four days off for Thanksgiving and the college and its dorms would be closed during. Mom had called me earlier that afternoon to tell me they’d be back from their business trip in Missouri that following morning. I approved and told her I’d ride with Lindsay in the meantime. Or rather..she’d ride with me. I was surprised. One, because I was actually going to have this “quality time” every dream family has and two, because Lindsay had decided to ride with me instead of her boyfriend Brad, whom she’d been dating since our freshman year last year. Typical athlete/cheerleader couple. How cliché…
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[/FONT]Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I looked back at her. “Sure we aren’t forgetting anything?”
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[/FONT]“Seems good to me. Though I think we may need a miniature bulldozer to clean this place up..” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at the floor, the embarrassment evident in her voice. “You’d think our closet exploded.”
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[/FONT]I smiled in silent agreement. It did look like that. But as usual, Lindsay has a way of finding humor in just about any situation.
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[/FONT]“Are you sure you don’t mind me riding back with you? I mean, I wouldn’t want any feelings of keep-away with your boyfriend.”
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[/FONT]“It’s fine, Becky, really. Believe me, if I didn’t want to, I would have said so by now. It’s not like I’m dying or anything. So relax, okay?”
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[/FONT]I nodded. She was right. I had no reason to worry and riding home alone is never fun anyway. Not when it came to the holidays. And not only would we be having Thanksgiving with everyone, but we’d be taking another flight together the next day. Most likely up north. Dad wanted to take us up to a ski lodge for a second one as well as some leisurely time. Last time I was skiing must’ve been at least ten years ago in Wisconsin. But this one was…Canada? British Columbia to be exact. 
  I glance out the window, seeing the first flakes of snow falling, as if someone was merely giving it a light dusting. Then I began to think about my family and their overnight flight. What if this got worse overnight? What if this flight got cancelled? What if… 
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[/FONT]Lindsay calling my name broke me from my thoughts and I blinked up at her, not even realizing I’d zoned out. “Huh?”
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[/FONT]“I said, are you ready to go? I’m all packed up.” She raised her arms, elbows bent, showing me our suitcases. For someone who was so petite, she could sure carry a lot. 
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[/FONT]“Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking about this weather. You don’t think it will get worse, do you?”
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[/FONT]“Nah. It hardly looks like a sticker. But if it does, you can always drive slow. Safety first, right?”
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[/FONT]I put on my coat and followed her out the door, being sure to lock up before doing so. Once out into the parking lot, I unlocked the door to my red 2012 Mercedes Benz, immediately turning on the heat while Lindsay tossed our suitcases in the back seat. 
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[/FONT]“Brr! Nippy out there!” she cried, rubbing her hands together. Buckling up, I carefully backed out of the parking space and the lot.
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[/FONT]Thanksgiving break had officially begun.


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## empresstheresa

An author must decide when to use dialogue and when to use descriptive narration.
Dialogue can get in the way of the situation, of what's happening.
For example,  why should the reader care about the teacher's long description of the wolf?  Is this information needed for the story?

In this opening to chapter 7 of my _Empress Theresa_,  there is only one line of dialogue, but look what's going on.  Theresa is teasing the world while waiting for the very serious meeting to begin.

Theresa and Prime Minister Blair are about to have a one-on-one meeting on live television with four billion viewers.
.....I walked into a small meeting room on the ground floor.  Four  television cameras placed at different angles were pointing at a small table with two chairs.  The table held a large loose leaf binder, a pitcher of water, glasses, notepads and pens.  Besides the camera crew there were twelve government people and two hotel staffers.  There were no other guests although thousands of highly placed people had called asking to be invited.  The meeting was too important to risk interruptions.​
.....I was early and Blair was not there.  He was probably caught in the bathroom.  The meeting could last for hours and he didn’t want to be knocking his knees with billions of people watching.​
.....I walked up to the table and stood there.  After a moment I opened the loose leaf binder.  It contained my MISSION IMPOSSIBLE file.  My eyebrows went up in surprise.  Then I resumed my gaze at the entrance I thought the Prime Minister would use.​
.....The whole world was watching.  My hair had dried and flared out in that magnificent mane that ooh’ed and ahh’ed everybody.  My green outfit was modest, only five inches above the knees and with not much cleavage, but didn’t hide my well turned figure.  All right, my chest and butt were well outlined.  There.  I said it.  So call the police.  Was I conscious of the effect I had on viewers?  Everybody knew I was or I would be sitting down!  I could imagine Steve grinning from ear to ear.​
.....I glanced at a TV screen.  It showed  my magnificence in full length profile.  The technicians started grinning.  They knew, and knew that I knew they knew etcetera.  I struggled to maintain an innocent expression, but the grin worked its way out.​
.....I couldn’t help myself.  I had to say it.​
.....“You should see the little black nothing dress I had on the first time Steve entered my dorm room!“​
.....The technicians and government men all laughed hard enough to burst a blood vessel.​
.....Who could blame me for taking a once in a lifetime opportunity to flaunt it to the world!​
.....While I posed Blair came in the same entrance I’d used and walked to the other side of the table.​


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## Jon M

Do you think perhaps our kind and gentle OP would like comments on his work rather than have his thread turned into an advertisement for someone else's project?


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## Jeko

Did this use to be in present tense? If so, I'd change it back. It reads better in present. Has more momentum; it galvanises the tone.

If not, I still think it reads better in present. But don't worry about it.


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## Jeko

> Do you think perhaps our kind and gentle OP would like comments on his work rather than have his thread turned into an advertisement for someone else's project?



I was about to say the same thing, Jon M. I don't even recognise the relevance of the passages used.


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## empresstheresa

> Do you think perhaps our kind and gentle OP would like comments on his work rather than have his thread turned into an advertisement for someone else's project?


Perhaps,
unless the OP needs examples of my comments on his work to make it clear.
Apparently it wasn't clear when he wrote. 

I can't use somebody else's work.  Copyrights, you know.


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## empresstheresa

> I don't even recognise the relevance of the passages used.



I don't see the relevance of a piece of writing having meaning "external to it".   :suspicion:


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## Jeko

> Perhaps, unless the OP needs examples of my comments on his work to make it clear.



Judging by the way that no-one else uses and advertises their own work to set examples in order to support their comments, I don't think it's necessary.

Your advice is what they want. They'll take you at your word, unless they're bringing something you said up for further discussion. Even then, it looks bad to post whole chunks of your work.

We're all writers who want to write our best - one person's work should not be used to trump another's, whether it does or doesn't.

I think I've said enough on this matter. 

This:



> I don't see the relevance of a piece of writing having meaning "external to it"



Is simply pointless. No need for this to get heated. 

And I don't want to de-rail krishenry's thread. I'll be sure to get a more substantial critique together in due course, krishenry.


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## empresstheresa

> We're all writers who want to write our best - one person's work should not be used to trump another's, whether it does or doesn't.



This is quibbling.

Quibbling can go on forever.  I will not engage.


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## Jeko

Cool. Back on the topic of past/present tense: Just noticed something.



> First of all, don't have the narrator use the present tense. It doesn't sound right.





> I’m Theresa



Could you clarify what you meant, empresstheresa?


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## krishenry

You are correct, I did have it in present tense to begin with, but she  had said to make it past tense that it "made no sense" otherwise. So THAT part I  did change, thinking it would be better. She's not the only one to say this. But I can revise it to be present again, if you like, it's no problem 

And again you're  correct that she uses chunks of her work to critique my own. I agree  that we all have our own writing style and this is mine. So what if I  did a long thing on the grey/gray wolf? It's informative and adds to the chapter. I didn't even add in everything on them when I did it in my own words.  And clearly she is not paying enough attention to my story because  I had made perfectly clear that Becky was the one reading it, NOT the  teacher.

P.S.

I am a girl


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## Jeko

Also noticed this:



> Been working on this story the last couple of days. My very first YA Romance story which I hope to one day publish and sell.



For this to be a few days work, and your first go at YA romance, I can already feel you're very talented. Can't wait to get stuck in to critiquing this, krishenry!


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## Jeko

> You are correct, I did have it in present tense to begin with, but she had said to make it past tense that it "made no sense" otherwise. So THAT part I did change, thinking it would be better. She's not the only one to say this. But I can revise it to be present again, if you like, it's no problem



Please do. YA and present tense can be an unstoppable force in the hands of a good storyteller. Simply look at the success of the Hunger Games, Patrick Ness...



> P.S.
> 
> I am a girl :smile:



I'm a guy, even though Cadence is appartantly a girl's name...


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## krishenry

Aww, thank you! I'm flattered you enjoy it so much! I aim to please!


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## krishenry

Most of the stories I read like this though are in past tense. At least the book that inspired this one. And it still grips you in hard.

I think past or present POV, if it can still keep you reading and wanting more, you're clearly doing something right


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## Jeko

> I think past or present POV, if it can still keep you reading and wanting more, you're clearly doing something right :smile:



Very true. Most of what I'm reading is in present tense. Why? Because the writer wanted it to be that way. Power to the writer!

Do keep the past tense version of this. If it turns out I'm wrong, it's better the other way, you wouldn't want to have to go over it all again.


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## krishenry

Will do  Thanks for voicing such valid opinion though and sticking up for me. I appreciate it. It puts my mind at ease regarding confusion and otherwise


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## empresstheresa

> Cool. Back on the topic of past/present tense: Just noticed something.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> _
> First of all, don't have the narrator use the present tense. It doesn't sound right.
> _
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> _
> I’m Theresa
> _
> 
> 
> Click to expand...
> 
> Could you clarify what you meant, empresstheresa?
Click to expand...



This is just more quibbling on your part, but I'll reply to show people what you're doing and how trivial it is.

Right there on page one, on paragraph two in fact, Theresa says, "Nobody could have dreamed of what I would do a few years later, and nobody would have believed it if they’d been told,  *but when this story began I was a little girl* ......"
After that, having established that she is telling her story after the fact and telling us who she is in the book's first two words  ( "I was Theresa"  wouldn't quite make it!  :uncomfortableness: }, she consistently uses the past tense for the remainder of the book. 

It's obvious that Theresa is telling the story from a later date.  She's telling you what happened in the past.

Likewise, in_ To Kill a Mockingbird_,  there are many clues that the narrator is speaking about the past. On page two Scout mentions Jem's broken arm which happens at the end of the book,  and at the end of the story when Scout walks Boo to his house and he goes inside, she says, "I never saw him again".  ( said in the book )  Also, there are countless observations in the book which are clearly beyond the ability of a nine year old girl.


Not so difficult to understand, is it folks?  eaceful:


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## Jeko

^Continuing this via PM.


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## krishenry

Here's chapter 3, everybody  Enjoy

Of Fire And Ice
By Kristen Crawford​Chapter Three
The ride home was a wary one, though the conversations weren’t so much. We spent most of our time playing “I Spy” and talking about boys and listening to music on the radio, a mix of rock and Christmas songs, at times singing along. I stared ahead out my windshield, watching the light dusting of snow flurries hit the glass and listening to the squeaky_ swish-swish-swish_ of the wipers as they swayed side to side, keeping my view clear. For how long though, nobody knew for sure.

As it turns out, Lindsay only lived in the next town over from me. Surprising seeing how we’d never met until last year. Or maybe we’d crossed paths without realizing. Neither one of us really knew. But it was a day I won’t forget.

*One year ago*
Dear Ms. Rebecca Fox,
    We are pleased to inform you that your ACT and SAT testing scores were above average and you have now been accepted into Bridgewood College. Please call us at 555-6897 for directions and to schedule a tour of the campus. We will answer any questions you have at that time.
Congratulations and welcome to Bridgewood. We hope to see you soon and for the Fall semester.
Sincerely,
Thomas Adams
Dean of Students

That was the last thing I read before hurriedly telling my parents. My father smiled as he sat on his end of the kitchen table and Mom threw her arms around me in an excited hug with a squeal and laugh.

“Congratulations, Becky! We knew you’d make it!”

Two weeks later, we’re all standing in the auditorium for student orientation. I looked around in the crowded room and noticed I was not the only one with my parents making what I call a “guest appearance”. When we’d toured some of the school and the dorms before, I hadn’t realized that I’d only seen a handful of the students here. This place was bigger than I first thought. My attention fell back onto the dean as he continued his speech.

This was it. I would officially be a student at Bridgewood. 

********​The following morning, I trudged slowly up the stairs, suitcases in both hands. I had just swiped my ID I’d been made and given the day before, my parents already having dropped me off and moved some of my stuff into my new dorm room. Not wanting to put down such heavy bags a second or third time, I turned sideways, pressing down on the door handle with my elbow and nudging it open with my shoulder.

I looked up to a brightly-colored room, almost blinding after being in the dimness of the hallway. But my eyes quickly adjust. A mix of my stuff and what must’ve been my roommate’s. The first thing that caught my attention is a pinup board, covered in what must be pictures of her, both in casual clothes and a cheerleader outfit, on what’s clearly school grounds and…maybe her house? 

I walked back over toward the bed, not quite tossing my suitcases as they land with a hard thud, then sat down, my arms now sore. Falling slowly backwards, I rubbed them before closing my eyes. One little break wouldn’t hurt before I unpacked, right? Just one…little…

“Hi, you must be Rebecca!”

I gasped and quickly sat up, the voice having jolted me awake. I’m still in a daze as I look at the girl standing just a few feet from me.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you! Do you want some help unpacking?”

“Huh…?” I mumbled, still half-asleep before looking at the clock. It was now 3PM. I’d been out of it two whole hours. Great. “Yeah…And it’s..Becky, actually..”

“Nice to meet you, Becky! I’m Lindsay!”

“Likewise.” I stared at her, bewildered but still too out of it to really move. How could she have so much energy? Oh, right…Cheerleader. Let’s just hope the rude awakenings weren’t a part of that, too.

“Let me help you with your things, okay?” She strolled over and opened the first suitcase and I helped her once my legs found the energy to do so.

*Present Day*

Twenty minutes or so later, we’d safely arrived at my house. It wasn’t much to look at. Medium size, white trim, black roof with a fenced yard…Your typical all-american home.

I looked at Lindsay as we unbuckle our seatbelts. “I need to stop in and check on Autumn. Want to come in for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she replied, smiling. “I love cats.”

Autumn was our year-old tortoiseshell whom we’d adopted from my uncle as a kitten this past fall. He’d found her as a stray, cold and shivering and dirty under some old newspapers one rainy morning. He took her in and got her back to full health and when he told us about her, we just 
 couldn’t say no.

I’m greeted with her meow, purr and leg rub as I unlocked the door and enter the house, Lindsay right behind me.

“Hey, girl.” I bent down with a smile as I stroked her from head to tail, making her purr louder. “I missed you, too. And it looks like Aunt Bess did a great job of looking out for you. Good.”
The three of us headed into the kitchen and I grabbed two mugs and two packets of cocoa along with a bag of marshmellows, filling the teapot with water and setting it on the stove for our hot chocolate. 

“Hot cocoa to go?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. We drink a _lot_ of hot chocolate on campus.

“You bet!”

Moments later and mugs in hand, we’re back on the road again. And I’d make sure I was back before lunch. 

Tomorrow would be very busy. For all of us.


----------



## krishenry

> Chapter 4 is here! Enjoy, everybody  Hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving



Of Fire And Ice[/FONT]​ By Kristen Crawford​ *[FONT=&quot]Chapter Four*[FONT=&quot]

I awoke the next morning bright and early on the Thompson’s couch, my head turning to the window. Just as I expected, it had snowed. Enough to give the yards a light blanket of snow, but nothing more.

_‘Well, that explains the morning chill.’_ I thought as I sat up, wrapping the blanket around me. I looked over at the grandfather clock which stood tall against the side of the wall directly in front of me. 8:25AM. Lindsay would be up soon. And I should probably call my parents later too to find out when they’d arrive. I wanted to be there before they got home.

I planted my feet onto the wood floor and stood up, glad I decided to keep my socks on the evening before. Heading into the kitchen, I fetched a glass and the orange juice, pouring then drinking it slowly, savoring its tarty taste on my tongue as it wet my dry throat and quenched my thirst.

Footsteps are heard a moment later, and I look up to see Lindsay’s mother walk in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Thompson.” I said with a smile. “I sort of helped myself to some of your orange juice. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, dear.” she smiled back. “Help yourself. Believe me, we have plenty to go around. At least today. Would you like to stay and help?”

“Be glad to.” I answered. “But I’m afraid I can’t for very long. My parents will be home in a few hours and I promised I’d be there.”

Lindsay’s mother, Barbera, looked just like her daughter, except she wore her sun-blonde hair up in a bun and clearly pregnant, as I observed her round, large belly, pressed gently against the counter’s edge. I could swear I saw it give a jump, but tried to ignore it as she started to talk again.

“What does your father do?” Another silent jump.

“He’s a photographer and editor for a nature and travel magazine. I guess you could say that’s what inspired my own career plans. But he also does stuff for charity. Donations and things.”

“I see _hic_ Oh, dear.” She sighed, putting a hand to her chest. “I have the hi- _hic!_ hiccups again.”

“I noticed…” We looked over and there stood Lindsay and her father in the doorway, a slight smirk on the man’s face. He goes over to his wife, pressing himself close to her and putting his arms around her stomach. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as he kissed her cheek, another muffled hiccup having escaped her.

“My dad kind of has a hiccup fetish.” Lindsay whispered in my ear as she now stood next to me.

“Really?” I whispered back. “Lots of people do.”

“Yeah, and thanks to her pregnancy, she gets them often - much to Dad’s amusement.”

I smiled. “Cute.”

“Mark, please. _hic_ You’re em- _hmk_ embarrassing me! _hiccup!_”

He smiled again as he pulled away, a twinkling in his brown eyes that said ‘We’ll continue this later’ before running his fingers through his sandy brown hair and exiting the kitchen to fetch the newspaper off the front porch.

Ten minutes before their guests arrived, I pulled into my own driveway, Mark having insisted he ride with me to make sure I got back safe and that he’d just take a bus back. I thanked him and wished him a happy and fun Thanksgiving to which he winked at me before turning and walking away. I watched from the window until he no longer appeared down our street.

It felt like only moments had passed as I got up to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, I smiled at the familiar faces, before opening it and throwing my arms around my parents in a tight hug. And once settled in and having had a couple of hours rest, we started preparing our feast. We would have a full house of our own in less than three hours.[/FONT]
[/FONT]​ [FONT=&quot]**********​  [FONT=&quot]“Pass the pepper, please?”

Thanksgiving was now in full swing at our house and other than Christmas, you’d wonder how many people could fit in such a small area. Quadruplets of aunts and uncles, a handful of cousins and step-cousins, grandparents, even dogs and cats.

“So, Becky, how’s school going for you?” Aunt Bess asked me.

“Have a new boyfriend yet?”

“Tom!” She gave him a light smack on the shoulder and I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s going well. Good grades, good classes and everyone’s really nice – so far. And no, I don’t have a new boyfriend. Don’t want one.”

For some reason, school and boyfriends were always the biggest hot topic. No matter where you were or what time of year it was. 

“What is it you’re pursuing again? Animal Anatomy?”

“That’s Animal _Biology_, Grandpa.”

“Well, let’s hope if she _does_ get a boyfriend, he’s better than Richard. To think a prince charming could turn back into a toad.” Aunt Carol chimed in.

“Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.” Carol’s 6-year-old daughter Jessica quipped.

“Becky, could you be a dear and take her, please?”

I nodded and got up, taking her little hand in mine and leading her to the bathroom which was just down the hall.

“Need any help?”

“That’s okay, Aunt Becky, I’m a big girl now!” She smiled brightly at me before closing the door. I’d swear she was the miniature version of Snow White; all that was missing was the right dress.

I heard the toilet flush, then running water. “Got it?”

“Yeah!”

The faucet shut off with a squeak and she opened the door. Taking my hand again, I lead us back to the group, mixed conversations and laughter filling both our ears.

This would be our last family get-together before Christmas. Before our flight to Canada. 

Tomorrow.[/FONT]


----------



## Fin

Cadence said:


> ^Continuing this via PM.




Despite not being OP, I thank you for this, Cadence. 


On to you, Kris. Will be focusing on the first chapter here. 

First off, the title. No need for panic or worry, and this isn't even me telling you to change it. This is purely my opinion here, but immediately I thought of _A Song of Ice and Fire_, which is the series of books that the highly popular television show _Game of Thrones_ is about. Again, keep it if you like it, I was just throwing out my first impression of this.

To the story. Starting off with the technical things I noticed reading through.

*So here I was...*(Located first paragraph)

'here I am'
'there I was'
Either would fix it. The latter being the one that would be consistant with the rest of the opening.


*I looked towards the voice, a slim, bubbly blue-eyed blonde waving her arm to grab my attention.*
A missing comma after 'bubbly,' unless you meant her eyes were bubbly. Revising this sentence could do you good as well.

*ying and yang*
I believe you mean yin and yang. Those are the opposites. But back in the day I heard of some rap group called ying and yang or something of the sorts, so if you meant that, then ignore this. But really, I think you meant yin.

*“That’s for sure.” I agreed, a slight chuckle in my voice.*
Switch the first period with a comma.

*shock myself in the process afterwards.*
Either remove 'in the process' or 'afterwards.' They don't really work well together here, with 'in the process' meaning right now, and 'afterwards' meaning after.

*and a peptalk
*
pep talk(two words)


*After placing our orders and given our drinks, we prepared them to our tastes and head back to our booth in silence.*
receiving our drinks. headed.

*midsip*
mid-sip


*“Just don’t get eaten by alligators.” I teased with a smile, tilting my own coffee to my lips.*
Comma after alligators.


The dialogue in this felt unreal, simply because of the fact that you mentioned that they're best friends. Half of the things they said to each other, especially involving their parents, are things that best friends generally already know about each other. Though depending on how long ago they met, it's not as big of a problem. But as Poprockets said, everything seemed so formal, rather than the informal tone that just regular friends have between each other.

I understand you said this story will pick up in the next few chapters, but concerning this one, the chapter seems a bit irrelevant. I fear that nothing that happened here will ever have any meaning throughout the story. I feel that you should start a story as late as you can before the action starts. A first chapter with no direction in sight worries me. I feel it could be scrapped altogether, with the actual story starting in the second chapter. I haven't read the second chapter yet, so take that with a grain of salt.

But I am a firm believer that every chapter in a story should have meaning, and this first one appears to not.



> You are correct, I did have it in present tense to begin with, but she had said to make it past tense that it "made no sense" otherwise. So THAT part I did change, thinking it would be better. She's not the only one to say this. But I can revise it to be present again, if you like, it's no problem



You can't go changing the tense every time someone wants it to be changed. It's up to you to make your writing the best it can be. Don't take everyone's comments as hard core fact. Really, just be open minded and try things out, but don't let everything the reader tells you define your story. Take it all with a grain of salt. Not everyone's suggestions will make it better. What's good to them may suck to someone else. Can't please everyone. Which leads me to. . .




> I aim to please!




Don't. But take this very sentence with a grain of salt as well.


----------



## krishenry

Thank you for pointing these out, Fin. Simple typos can be easily overlooked, especially if written in a hurry. But I'll be sure to correct them now


----------



## krishenry

Errors fixed.

And regarding the irrelevance and formality, just because they are best friends - a year old, mind you - does not mean common topics are not brought up. Everything will be explained in those chapters. And direction? It's not supposed to have much. It's a cheerful opening introducing a few of the characters. A teaser, if you will. So before you judge, please read the other chapters. 

I understand everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but if I were to jumble it all together there wouldn't be much need for chapters or many at all. And I want to spread this out as long as I can.

Thanks for your help and review


----------



## Jeko

> direction? It's not supposed to have much. It's a cheerful opening introducing a few of the characters.



Picked up on this line. Letting us get used to the characters is a good use of the first few chapters, but if there isn't any direct relelvance to the plot or necessity, the story might suffer.

Consider: if the story can include some events before the story 'picks up' so to speak, why not go further back? Why not have hundreds of pages of things that happen before?

_Obviously_, you'd turn your reader off. But you can turn your reader off with but a few less effective chapters, especially at the beginning.


----------



## krishenry

Chapter 5 is here!

Of Fire And Ice​ By Kristen Crawford​  Chapter Five

  We arrived at the airport about 10:30 the next morning. It was now ten ‘til 11 and having already gotten our tickets about ten minutes before, we now began weaving our way through the crowds of people, heading towards our flight gate. It was very easy to get lost and disoriented in such a big place and I made sure to keep paced and focused, despite the fact that I was right beside my parents anyway. After all, you never know what can happen.

  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Flight 257, British Columbia, now boarding.” I heard the female voice over the loudspeakers call out.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Ah, here we are!” my dad said, our gate and stewardess coming into view.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
She thanked us as we handed her our tickets then headed onto the plane.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
The flight to Canada was long and rocky. Not because of turbulence or air sickness, or even the cramped leg room, but mostly because for some reason I got the bad seat. Bad because some little kid in the seat behind me was jamming his foot in my back. And it took all I had not to jerk my head back and shout or strangle him. Okay, so I wouldn’t go _that_ far, but still…he did deserve a good shout. Scare him so bad, he’d wet himself. I did my best to compress a groan, both in my head and aloud. Why weren’t his parents doing anything? This flight couldn’t be over soon enough…[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
My legs were stiff as stone by the time we landed in Alberta. After that, it was just a short ride to our chalet in British Columbia. I couldn’t wait to get there and unpack so I could give my legs a good stretch by walking. And I had my digital camera in my bag so I could take pictures.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
One rental car and fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Cedar Horse, which wasn’t far from the lodge and ski lift. I followed suit after my parents, hopping out of the back and grabbing my suitcase before shutting my own door.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
The outside was a chocolate brown, built kind of like a girl scout cabin you see in the movies. Inside was warm and roomy, with soft area rugs atop light hardwood floors, with a wood stove in the corner, along with a TV, couch and a small bookshelf, various pictures and paintings outlining the wall which was a Christmassy green. Just around the corner, I could see a large country home kitchen and bar, fitted with your everyday modern appliances and sliding glass windows.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
To the left of the bookshelf was a set of French-style doors that opened to the bedroom.  Inside were two queen beds, closets and unstained oak dressers.  The headboards appeared to be made of wicker and the mattresses were covered with red-and-white plaid sheets. Connected to the bedroom was the bathroom, with cream white walls, a small sink and toilet, along with a medicine cabinet and a tub with a shower to the right, a wooden chair and tower rack from behind, a white cotton robe hanging on the rack as well. And more pictures, of course.[/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana] 
The inside of the house explored, I headed out to the back area, noting a grey marble hot tub just below deck, already filled with steaming hot water, along with a black barbeque grill and a wood furnished eating area. This was going to be one heck of a vacation.[/FONT]

  Awhile later, I tied on my boots and put on my coat, gloves and scarf, calling out to my parents that I was going for a walk and I’d be back, shutting the door behind me.

  [FONT=&Verdana]
Before heading down the stairs, I double-checked to make sure I had my compass, camera, pepper spray and mini flashlight in my pocket. Check.[/FONT]

  Looking out to the east, I noticed a forested area. Maybe there’d be a trail I could walk on. And since I had my compass with me there’s no way I could get lost. Or so I thought.

  [FONT=&Verdana]
Ten minutes into my walk, and about six photos later, I stopped in my tracks, hearing a distant wolf howl. Should I be wary? It hadn’t sounded close. I continued on, not noticing a shadowy form, its beady eyes watching me. [/FONT]

  [FONT=&Verdana]
Not too far away, a young man was just putting out his campfire after cooking some fish he’d caught from the stream. His name was Lucas Maxwell. [/FONT]

  He looked up in alarm, suddenly hearing a woman’s scream. Grabbing his set of cooked fish, he darted off toward the sound.

  [FONT=&Verdana]
I was now surrounded by wolves, holding a large branch in my hand, having used all of the pepper spray on them beforehand. While it stunned them, it didn’t chase them off for good. Since wolves hunted in packs, more always stepped in to take over for the injured.[/FONT]

  I gave the branch a swing, the nearest wolf just grabbing in its sharp teeth, another wolf taking this chance to pounce on me. I yelped and fell back, hitting my head on the tree behind me.

  [FONT=&Verdana]
Just before losing consciousness, there is a blur and a yelp as the wolf is kicked off of me. I tried to move my head to see my savior, but I didn’t get the chance, my vision blurring before I slipped into darkness. [/FONT]


----------



## Zico Cozier

I just want to point out one thing in the story that really threw me off. When the main character touted her own "assets" in the first person, all while you tried to convince us of her apparent modesty.

"Not that I wasn’t a looker myself. I too had that slim build, with chocolate brown hair that fell past my shoulders, a bit of natural wave included, and bright green eyes. And I was certainly nice enough…I tried to tell Lindsay the ‘Maybe I’m just too boring’ line, which earned me a jab to the ribs and a pep talk."

A sure way to turn readers off of your character very quickly.


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## cheezyb10

Now, this is a good story. It does make you want to read more. I'm not going to get into anything, but I do not think people should just negitively vote on something like this. This is an ambitious story. Don't give up! :icon_cheesygrin:


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## krishenry

Aww, thanks, CB! 

You're right, they shouldn't. But everyone's opinion is different. Still, I'm not going to let them discourage me. And I do understand that some are only trying to help. I did say this was in the developmental stages, after all. And sometimes I get ahead of myself, making minor mistakes I don't always catch as one commenter pointed out.

All I can do is keep trying and keep writing! So glad you enjoyed this and there's definitely more to come!


----------



## krishenry

I thought about that. But since most of what goes on in later chapters explains all this, there'd really be no need to go back and redo it all. Adding backstory to a backstory. And besides, side stories only add to the excitement and intrigue! 

I can only hope I can make my story better as it goes along. Basically, I'm just winging it. Writing whatever comes to mind. And so far, most are pleased with the results. Myself included


----------



## Leyline

krishenry said:


> I thought about that. But since most of what goes on in later chapters explains all this, there'd really be no need to go back and redo it all. Adding backstory to a backstory. And besides, side stories only add to the excitement and intrigue!
> 
> I can only hope I can make my story better as it goes along. Basically, I'm just winging it. Writing whatever comes to mind. And so far, most are pleased with the results. Myself included



I'm not going to argue with anything you say here because, pretty much, that's the way I write myself and it seems to work for me. 

But I do hope you know that the people trying to help aren't insulting your story, they're seeing the potential in it. And they wouldn't comment and suggest things if they didn't enjoy the story in the first place.

I was very impressed. It moves along really nicely and I quite like the voice of the MC, and the attitude of the piece. I look forward to reading more of it and if you ever do feel need for constructive criticism, just say so. 

Best,

-G.


----------



## krishenry

Don't worry, I do know. My family sees its potential too and they love how far it has come in the short time I've been writing this. It's because of them and people like you I feel inspired to keep going  Thank you very much


----------



## krishenry

Chapter 6 is ready!

Of Fire And Ice
By Kristen Crawford
Chapter Six​ 
I slowly opened my eyes to see a wooden ceiling. This wasn’t the chalet…


“Where am I…” I muttered.


“Ah, good, you’re awake.”


I sat up in alarm, seeing my rescuer just feet from me, and scooted back, my lower back pressing against the arm of the couch. I moved a bit too quickly though it appeared as I felt a wave of dizziness and a throbbing in the back of my head. I groaned, putting my hand on my forehead.


“Easy. I’m not going to harm you.” he said. [FONT=&Verdana]His voice  was soft and smooth. He appeared to be around my age...and all out HOT!  Fair skin, muscular, brownish black hair that reached his shoulders and  framed his face a bit, beautiful brown eyes...
He wore a red checkered shirt that was open just enough for me to see part of his chest, jeans that were a deep royal blue and brown winter boots.

 And though my body relaxed at his gentle tone, his appearance harmless, I still kept my guard up. I’d been fooled by this manner once before with my ex. No way was I about to be so naïve a second time.[/FONT]


“You saved me back there…”  


He nodded.  


“Who are you? Where are we? Where did you come from?”


“My name is Lucas. Lucas Maxwell. And this is my cabin. Lucky for you I was closeby or you would have been that pack’s next meal.”


“Why did they attack me? Aren’t wolves usually timid?”


“Food and territory are growing scarce so they are becoming desperate. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. After I heard you scream, I ran as fast as I could, following their growls and tracks I came across. When I saw that wolf ontop of you, I leapt into action. Once I saw your unconscious form there after drawing their attention to myself, I tossed my fish to buy more time, ran over and scooped you up, running back here.”


“You were very brave. Thank you for saving me.”


“How are you feeling?”


“Like I got hit by a sledgehammer…”


“Already prepared.” he said, holding up a small glass. I took it from him and gave a light sniff. Cinnamon? He held out a rag to me. 
“Put that on the rag and press it where it hurts.”


I felt confused, but did as asked. A few minutes later, my headache was gone.  


He smiled at my apparent surprise. “Cinnamon oil and crushed cloves. One of nature’s best remedies. Ten milliliters oil and three grams cloves, in case you want to know exactly.”


“Let me guess: You’re a doctor.”


He laughed, exposing his pearly whites more. “Not a doctor. Just very intune. When you’re raised as I had been, you learn many things.”


“So what are you saying, that you’re better than me?”


“Not at all. I find you quite beautiful and I can see in your eyes that you are strong with much potential. It’s just a matter of bringing it out. If you like I could teach you.”


“I know plenty.”


“Do you? You could know a lot more. Just in case.”


I paused a moment, taking his last line into account. He did have a point. And he _did_ just save me. But could I really trust him. Could I be such a burden to a total stranger? I looked back at him, directly into his eyes. “You’d teach me.”


Another nod. “If you like.”


I gave it a momentary thought before nodding. It would probably help me out. And I did enjoy “roughing it”. It could feel like I was camping with my dad all over again. Maybe.


I set my foot down on the floor and started to get up, only to wince and start to fall. But then I felt a strong pair of arms under mine.


“Easy. I’ve got you.”


I felt a blush rise to my cheeks at feeling his soft cotton shirt against my face. His embrace was firm yet gentle and his body was warm against mine. I looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. “Sorry…” I muttered.  


He set me back on the couch carefully and began to feel around my ankle. I winced when he touched a certain spot. “Looks like a sprained ankle.”


I thought back, realizing that during my escape I must’ve tripped while running. And my adrenaline must’ve numbed the pain.  


“What? But I _can’t_ have a sprained ankle! I go back home in a few days!”

“Where is home?”


“I rather not tell you.”


“Then could you tell me your name?”


“Rebecca Fox. But everyone calls me Becky.”


“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he complimented, smiling.  


“Flattery will get you nowhere.” I scowled.


“This fox has bite, I see.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. As I promised, I mean you no harm. But you may need to stay here to recover. You are injured and will be dark soon. And a storm’s on the way. At least stay the night.”


“I really should get back. My parents will be worried. Can’t we beat the storm?”


“While I do have a vehicle to drive you, it would be safer to stay put. We can’t risk getting caught in it after dark. The forecast earlier said so.”


Stay here? With a man I hardly knew? I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach again. Reaching into my jeans pocket, I checked the display on my cellphone, which I always carried with me no matter where I went. A signal, but a weak one. What would I even tell them?  


Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number and put it to my ear. Let’s hope the next call made wasn’t to a hospital or a police station.


----------



## krishenry

Of Fire And Ice​ By Kristen Crawford​  Chapter Seven  

  After the third ring, I heard the sound of the phone being picked up.

  “Hello?”
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Hi, mom, it's me.”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Becky! Where are you, are you alright?”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“I'm fine, mom, I’m just taking shelter from a coming storm. I...got a little hung up. But I'm okay in this cabin I found and will be back once it passes.”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Another cabin? Whose-”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“I'll explain everything later. Better go now. Love you, mom. Bye.” [/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
I hung up, letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I'd been holding.[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Everything alright?”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“Yeah. Should be now. Thanks.”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
“I’m going to gather some firewood. I shall be back momentarily.”[/FONT]
  [FONT=&Verdana]
He turned and left, leaving me to fully take in my surroundings of the cabin. [/FONT]It was surprisingly roomy and I wondered how it looked from the outside as well. To the left of me was a large stone fireplace, topped with various figures of Indians and wolves, some even being wood carvings. Ones of which I wondered if he’d done them himself. A small pile of firewood was already at its left side, tools for the fireplace on the right side.

Across from me was the kitchen. From my angle on the couch, I couldn’t quite see it all, but it appeared to be fairly modern. With half stained, half white painted oak countertops and matching kitchen table for four in the center, a large French style window to its right with no curtains. There was what appeared to be a black refrigerator to the left and black stove and microwave to the right, both attached to the sink countertop. Above the sink was a wooden cabinet, probably holding drinking glasses.

To my right was an upstairs, which I guessed led to the bathroom and bedroom. And in the far corner, a desk with a chair and open laptop. Light poured in from all the exposed windows, brightening every room. And I felt intrigued to see the upstairs, but I knew I couldn’t risk it without Lucas’s help, not unless I wanted something other than a hurt ankle.

I turned my head at the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Lucas had returned, cradling a small stack of firewood in both arms and I watched as he added to the previously made pile before tossing a few logs into the fireplace then reaching into his pocket, pulling out a set of matches and striking one before tossing it too inside. It wasn’t long before the logs were ablaze, the room instantly warmer.

“That feels much better.” I replied and he rewarded me with another soft smile.

Lucas’s prediction of the weather had also been correct. Ten minutes after settling in, the blizzard hit with a vengeance.
  The wind whistled and howled in my ears as I looked up, looking past my rescuer who was in the kitchen making cocoa to see thick snowflakes blow sideways out the window. I shivered and pulled the blanket he’d given me closer, glad I had convinced myself to stay after all.

I took my cup from him upon his return. “Is it always this bad up here?”

“Not always. Just another strange weather pattern. It’ll pass. And don’t worry; we are perfectly safe.”

I put my cup thoughtfully to my lips before taking a sip. “Mmm…wow, this is very good! What’s your secret?”

“The grocery store?” he smirked.

We both laughed. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all…


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## summergenevieve

krishenry, you have a really really nice fluid writing style. Either tense would read as it should and I like the way you present and describe your characters. The reader gets a feel of what they are like. Hope you keep going with it, I'd love to hear more.


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## krishenry

Thank you, summer  Rest assured I am still working on this story, but I have hit a bit of writer's block. There's a scene I'm stuck on how it should look.

Any help would be wonderful and I appreciate the compliment


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## krishenry

*A small update!*

Just letting everyone here know that I am still alive and well and working on this story. But writer's block is still eating away at me.

I did however decide to change the main character's name to Lucas Maxwell rather than Grey Wolf in order for things to flow more smoothly in later chapters.

I will write again once the next scene is solid in my mind 

Thanks for all the help and support you've given me and for being so patient! I do hope it continues!

*A sneak peek at what my book cover will look like once this story is completed and published*

 OR ​


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## Jeko

Pretty good cover, IMO. Looks professional.


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## krishenry

Thank you, Cadence  That's exactly what I was going for


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## Stephanie1980

Good day krishenry, 

I just recently started a young adult Novel myself. I read that many have replied to your post, I’ll just point out some of my suggestions. First, off kudos for taking on the hard task of writing a Novel, you need to pat yourself on the back for that. 

Your Chapters were written in First Person Point of View, some of the best young adult novels are written in First Person because it includes the thoughts and perspectives of one main character, who’s telling his/her own story. But remember, the reader can only know what the main character knows. Only in Third person can the reader take on the thoughts and perspectives of other characters. Now that you started in First Person make sure the narration is consistent, develop her personality and soon readers will read the story and truly get a sense of who your main character is and what she is going through.  

When you were describing your main character’s physical appearance, the sentence flow and structure could use some improvement. 

_“__Not that I wasn’t a looker myself. I too had that slim build, with chocolate brown hair that fell past my shoulders, a bit of natural wave included, and bright green eyes. And I was certainly nice enough…I tried to tell Lindsay the ‘Maybe I’m just too boring’ line, which earned me a jab to the ribs and a pep talk.” _ 

For example:

_“I was considered a rare beauty, all thanks to good genes. My mother had a slender build like a gymnast. My body wasn’t as fit but as thin. I remember brushing my mother’s brunette hair, how natural it would wave even after it was combed through. She would do the same for me, how I loved feeling my mother’s fingers tickle my scalp, she would look at me and say ‘how I had my father’s green eyes, bright like emeralds’. I felt nice looking… ‘maybe I was just boring’, who knows? Lindsay would always give me a pep talk when I put myself down.” _

This is just an example of how you can describe your character’s appearance by “showing them” instead of “telling them”. Use memories, or outside prompts that would hint how your main character looks like.     

Never group a description of your main character in one paragraph. Show your readers what she looks like instead of telling them what she looks like. Also, have you thought that maybe readers don’t need to know how your protagonist looks like? Letting them guess is a good thing too. Otherwise, compare and contrast with other characters, use dialogue or metaphors to describe her. Oh, and avoid the mirror trick, its cliché. 

Overall, after reading Chapter One and Two I think you have a good story, the plot is set but I am wondering what the inciting incident was? What is the event that is going to change or bring conflict to your main character? Is something going to happen during Thanksgiving break? 

Keep up the good work; let me know when you have more chapters posted. 

~Cheers each:


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## Jeko

> Never group a description of your main character in one paragraph.



I've come across it myself in dozens of YA books I've read. Sometimes it's done in a single sentence. I think it comes down to the pacing of the scene itself - sometimes it works to go into details, sometimes all you need is a few choice phrases and your reader has everything they need, without being distracted from the scene itself.


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## Greimour

I have been following this thread (somewhat) without comment. 
YA Romance isn't really my thing, but most things I would have commented on have already been mentioned - as well as others I didn't even notice.

Stephanie mentions first person being great due to getting thought process from the main character, which I agree with. With many stories, the thought process of a main character can be the difference between them being liked or being loved. It can also explain certain actions that might go against the characters fundamental design. I can't stand when a character inexplicably acts "out of character"

You said this is your first attempt at a Novel?
Aside from what school taught you about grammar, spelling and writing... is this actually your first attempt at writing, or just at writing a novel? It's impressive that you can paint so well with your words. 

I don't want to post yet another essay to someones post, so I am going to give three personal opinions based solely on your first post and not flood into chapter two or respond to the many comments posted so far.

*1: *Titles 
 When I read the title, I instantly thought of "A song of fire and Ice" from the Game of Thrones Saga by George R. R. Martin. - For that reason, i instantly disliked your title and did not think it would be about Romance. Had I seen it on a book shelf, I would have picked it up, checked what was written on the back and put it back on the shelf. I know you shouldn't judge a book by the cover, but I can't help it. The title grabs me first, the cover second... the real selling point however is the little piece on the back that tells a bit about the story. 

So - Title makes me pick it up, because it is a good title. But thanks to Game of Thrones I am now thinking of the wrong Genre. Having suddenly picked up a book with a different Genre in mind, I put your book back because it's not what I expected. Had I expected a romance upon reading the title, or had no expectations at all... the piece on the back would have determined if I buy it.

^ That wont be true for everyone, but I am one who would have read and from what I have seen so far, liked your story - but did not buy it for such a stupid reason.



*2.* Painting characters and dialogue.

The introduction of the room-mate best friend I liked, the reference to yin-yang that made them almost polar opposites I liked because it made their friendship seem more plausible once I learned more about Lindsay.
Then came across:


> . I was quiet, somewhat laid back, while she was energetic and a bit silly.



a bit silly. < I instantly questioned their age and looked back up to confirm I had read "college" and I let the word slip. "energetic and a bit silly" made me think of primary (elementary) kids. Maybe eight or so years old. Ignorin that I moved on.


> Her cheerleader looks giving her  that innocent yet kick-butt-as-needed appeal. And as the weeks passed,  she sort of grew on me.


Yes. That sounds more like it, I think...
and then...



> “Hey, Lindsay. You haven’t gotten your coffee yet?”
> 
> [FONT=&Verdana]
> “I didn’t want to seem impolite.” she said. “Thought it would be more fun to stand in the line together.”[/FONT]



My mind blanked and started trying to repaint Lindsay: 
"Kick your butt if I have to cheerleader" (Cool) 
"Acts silly" (immature) 
I didn't want to seem impolite" (mature - also, it's a best friend she is waiting for, wouldn't it have been more likely she'd have known what Becky likes and bought both drinks whilst she waited? She is energetic type so it's unlikely she likes to wait)
“Thought it would be more fun to stand in the line together.” (mixed thoughts: Lonely? Shy? Doesn't like being alone? Constantly needs and seeks companionship, so she is needy? and 'more fun to stand together'? 'more fun'? ... is that how people in college talk in America - or anywhere? Not here I know that.)




> “So what are you doing after exams?”
> 
> [FONT=&Verdana]
> “Ugh…don’t even say that word!” I hated exams. Tests in general. Sure, I  had a 4.0 GPA, and I liked my teachers and most of my classes. But that  doesn’t mean I liked _everything_ about them.[/FONT]



When the question "what are you doing after the exams?" I assumed it was Becky talking - stereotypically it's the cheerleader who dislikes exams and the quiet type that is Becky would be more likely to ask right? Then Becky is the one who hates exams, despite being the quiet laid back type. I am a laid back person and I don't feel any pressure from exams at all - or work deadlines, falling behind on deadlines... I am pretty immune to pressure and most forms of stress. Being laid back is more of a curse than a bonus in some ways, because it also prevents incentive for promotions if the wage increase isn't high enough or to find work after being made redundant and many other drawbacks depending on just how laid back a person is. Anyway, as a laid back person, the roles of the two people seemed reversed.

Anyway, enough with two, because at this point in your story - as someone pointed out, the beginning is the hook that makes someone read on. As a first draft I see the potential - but with this first edit, this is pretty much where I forced myself to read on and see how it progresses rather than read on from interest. I can only let so many things that conflict with me pass before I have to stop reading.

This isn't your writing, this is my reading preference and I can't help it. Reading Game of Thrones for example, I read book one slowly, two and three was better and I flew through them so fast my brother (who was reading reading fourth book when I started the first) had only just started Dance with Dragons (5th book) when I started the 4th. Then comes the fifth book, my brother finished it the same time I finished reading the 4th book, but I couldn't finish reading the fifth. Eventually I put it on a shelf in my bedroom and never touched it again. The read had become too boring for me to force myself to continue and I no longer craved to know what happened next.


*3* Other thoughts.

You character descriptions paint the character that you designed. It is me who got wrapped up in stereotypes not you. That's not something I think you should be concerned with - what does matter though is that characters don't have contradicting qualities - such as mature dialogue from an immature person. I believe I read someone comment on your dialogue once already but during my ramble I forgot what was said.

I especially like the way you paint certain scenes. You have a knack for that and I envy it a little. ^_^



> I shrugged off my coat, setting it  aside to reveal the yellow sweater underneath, resting my hands on my  blue jeaned lap, the fabric still cool under my fingers from the chill  outdoors. I gave them a few brisk rubs with my hands to warm them,  hoping I wouldn’t accidentally shock myself afterwards.



My imagination is very visual. This may sound odd to some, but there are people (such as a certain friend who reads a lot) that read words and see words and follow a story properly. I however am not one of those people. When I start reading, I soon have a picture in my head and I no longer see words at all. I see a scene like in a movie unfolding in my brain. During that time, I could only tell you what I saw and would have no idea what I read. For this reason, typing mistakes that trip up my eyes or grammar problems or story voice changes etc... they hit a pause button in my mind and the two big lines on the screen interupt my reading.
My point is:
In that section quoted above, the yellow sweater, the cold hands and the static ready to give a shock painted a very visible scene in my head. It was the second time in your writing that my mind broke away from words and painted pictures. The first being: [FONT=&Verdana] a slim, bubbly, blue-eyed blonde waving her arm to grab my attention.

Stories that keep the scene vivid is my kind of story. No matter what Genre (but primarily why I like fantasy fiction - though I have found it in many genres, fantasy fiction rarely lets me down ^_^). The longer the movie plays in my mind as I turn the pages of your book, the more I like it. If you can keep the pictures flowing even during dialogue, I would be annoyed I can't already buy the book now. 

Anyway, thats my two scents. As you can see, from just talking about the start of your first post, I have quite the reply already... which is exactly why I didn't extend my reply to include everything in the thread so far.

Happy writing and I look forward to hearing that this story one day gets published

:love_heart:


~Kev
[/FONT][FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]


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## Noelle

I think maybe bec. it starts w/ two girls meeting at starbucks (which is so commonplace and dull), that something interesting needs to happen right away/ before they're in line to get coffee (where I had to stop reading)


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