# Chapter 1, The Whispering Pond



## Steve (Jul 13, 2011)

I have changed this opening chapter so many times I am not sure I am still able to read it from a creative POV. Your views will be well received.

Steve

Rebecca and the Spiral Stairs. Fantasy, possibly YA.:roll:

*Chapter 1*
*The Whispering Pond*
Long before she left school, Rebecca had decided her best option was walking home. She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would get the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see. All day he’d aggravated her, and she wasn’t in the mood for him, or any more of his flipping football antics. When she eventually turned into her road, there he was, still hanging about, kicking his damn football about like some kind of circus act. ‘Sod it,’ she moaned, ‘twit face.’ She waited for a few seconds and when he wasn’t looking, sneaked behind the parked cars. 

Half way down the road, she glanced around wondering where the hell he’d gone. Then as she turned, she spotted his dirty football flying towards her. Although she managed to duck out of the way, she still ended up flat on her backside. To make things worse, her books were all over the pavement, and one of her drawings had landed in a puddle. Feeling like a complete fool, she licked her raw knuckles and once more looked around. He’d disappeared, again. Seething, she took several deep breaths and keeping one eye out, carefully gathered her gear together. So badly, she wanted to shout some abuse, but knew that would just make her feel worse.

When it came to a battle of wills, or any form of conflict, Rebecca often struggled with her emotions. Her feisty side always wanted to fight back, while the gentle half opted to say nothing. She’d normally end up keeping quiet, but then feel cross with herself, knowing she was doing exactly what her mum does. As far back as she could remember it had annoyed her how her mum always chose the silent option, even when people had clearly taken liberties. However, when it came to Tommy, Rebecca saw him as a stupid little twit and could rarely resist fronting him up. Just lately though, he had become increasingly intimidating, and she suspected this had a lot to do with his extra height. Almost overnight, he had shot up, and now stood at least six inches taller than her, and a whole lot more argumentative. Recently, she’d managed to take no notice, but his manner had started to wear thin, particularly since they went back to school.

She picked up her last book and was about to head home when she noticed him across the road, sitting behind a parked car, digging at something with a stick. As if to annoy her, he glanced up and acted as if she wasn’t there. Still smarting from her raw knuckles, and aggravated further by his flippant disregard, she felt unable to hold her emotions in any longer. She took a deep breath, and yelled, ‘Bloody had enough of you for one day. Stupid git, leave me alone, or else.’ She hadn’t a clue what the _‘or else’_ would be, but guessed something would come to mind; _after all, he is just a stupid kid_. She glared at him, but he was acting as if he hadn’t heard her. She’d spied him glance up at least twice, and knew he was being an idiot. ‘Missed me with your ball, twit,’ she hollered.

This time, he responded, raised his head slowly, and yelped back in a tone that Rebecca knew only too well. ‘I didn’t miss ya’ lunchtime, did I? Moving target, that’s all you are.’ 

With her fist clenched, she looked down at a dirty mark on her skirt. Clearly baiting her at lunchtime, he’d kicked his ball at her in front of her pals. She’d smiled as if it hadn’t mattered. It had mattered, and hurt too, and she’d reckoned she’d get him back _soon enough_. 

It had been only her second day in her new stylish school uniform, the one she’d waited all summer to wear. Like most of the other girls in her year, she’d looked forward to showing it off, knowing it confirmed her as one of the senior-girls. Only that morning she had stood in front of the mirror, admiring the smart black jacket, and the red knee-length tartan skirt.

She dithered for a moment, and snarled, ‘soon enough.’ She glanced at him, then at his ball lying in the curb, and again at her skirt. She knew she was winding herself up but by then was beyond caring. With one eye on him, she bent down, grabbed his ball, and shouted, ‘Football’s going in Mrs. Howe’s garden, and you’ll never get it back.’ 

Mrs. Howe was a cantankerous old spinster who lived with her equally quarrelsome sister in one of the largest Tudor houses in this affluent road. The families who lived in Vista Drive, were a mixture of successful folks from the financial world – like her father – a handful of lawyers, one professional footballer – who had just moved in much to the delight of Tommy – and of course, the obligatory second-hand car salesman. Rebecca had heard many people question how the sisters had come about this house, and it seemed to her the old girls were happy that way. There were of course many rumours, indeed a couple of the children had suggested they practiced witchcraft, but Rebecca dismissed any such ideas, and in a way admired their privacy. Besides, she knew they weren’t witches, because they don’t live in Tudor houses since it reminds them of bad times. She had often wondered why people worried themselves with such things, but then she had never come up against either sister, always managing to stay out of the way. She was aware that Tommy had fallen fowl of these ol’ gals’ and suspected on this occasion, perhaps their reputation might just benefit her. 

She could see him looking so balanced his ball on top of the hedge.

He jumped up, waving his arms, and headed across the road. Standing next to Rebecca, he glared down at her, and snarled, ‘Do and I’ll tell Dad. And you’re the twit.’ 
Still waving his arms, he appeared nervy, and she knew he was rattled. As much as she tried, she just couldn’t help grinning. She knew this would annoy him even more but by that stage, she just wanted to teach him a lesson.

He screwed his face up, and in his half-broken voice – that often slipped back into a horrid squeal, especially when Bex was getting the upper hand – he screeched, ‘you dare. I hate you.’ 

Rebecca hesitated, knowing she was being particularly childish, but just couldn’t resist mocking him and garbled, ‘oink, oink.’ 

Tommy’s eyes flicked between her and his ball. He grumbled something, and then yelped, ‘whatever, still telling Dad.’

‘Tell him, I don’t care.’ She banged her eyes and muttered, ‘silly boy.’ She hadn’t really intended to chuck his ball over the fence, just wanted to rattle him, but that was until she heard him...

‘Yeah, but you’ll always be a girl, never amount to anything, I ‘eard Dad, he knows.’

That was the final straw. Wide-eyed, she sneered at him while moving his ball back and forth on top of the hedge. He lunged forward and as he did, she prodded it over the hedge and sniggered. ‘Teach ya’ to mess with a girl.’ As a look of total dismay slid down his face, she knew he would react. 

For a few seconds he did nothing, then turned, and pointing his finger right in her face, shouted, ‘You, you cow, I hate you.’ 

He may be six inches taller, but he’d just over stepped the mark, and she wasn’t having him pointing his finger at her like that. ‘Have to copy Dad, do ya’, can’t think for yourself, wagging your stupid finger at me.’ She then grabbed his finger and bent it backwards.

He yanked his hand away and shouted, ‘that’s it, I’m telling Dad, and then you’ll be in for it.’ He then made a grab for her drawings.

Turning sideways, she flicked her hand and said, ‘I told ya’, I don’t care, and don’t mess with a girl.’


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## scarletlight (Jul 14, 2011)

Hello again.

I really enjoyed the tone of this opening paragraph. A light hearted part of the plot with some references to more serious pieces of information.
I particularly like how you often use  
- (extra information) -  
It really helps with getting characters across to the reader and as I went through I got a real feel for the 3 who were involved.

I don't know if this was intentional, but at times I feel like the narrator is on Rebecca's side. 
 ' flipping football antics. ' and ' Damn football ' both give off the idea that the narrator shares Rebecca's frustration. Nothing wrong with it if they do ofcourse. Just something I noticed.

I had a teacher named Mrs Howe, couldn't help but imagine her in the story. A good pair of mysterious characters there with the sisters.

Oh , the opening sentance.
' Long before Rebecca had left school ' implied to me that she has left school now, but then we go on talking about her school days. I'm unsure about the tense of it. I feel like the opener prepares you for a past event but it seems the story is present tensed. Perhaps
' Having been at school for some time, ' or ' a short time ' depending on her age I guess; would be less confusing. ' A long way from leaving school ' might even work.

I found ' bloody had enough of you for one day! stupid git! ' my favourite part. The english accent coming through even in writing made me laugh and just that speech alone gave me a good idea of Rebecca and her attitude toward her brother.

Last thing, you named this chapter the whispering pond? Is this only part of the chapter? If so never mind. But if this is the whole chapter, why the name whispering pond? I couldn't find any reference or link to that name in this writing. 

An enjoyable read anyway, I couldn't get much of a sense of what the road was like, other than it was a rich area. You might want to ellaborate on it a little for readers unaware of how england looks. If that is indeed where your story is set.

Hope I can be of help with this.


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## Steve (Jul 14, 2011)

Thanks Scarlet,

Glad you liked it.  I do indeed love R to the point of adoption, he-he, so yeah, her POV.  This is the opening snippet from the opening chapter. I may pitch the whispering pond bit later.  It’s an interesting point that you make about then tense.  I will have a re-read and think about it.  She was kind of being a little reflective, the thoughts of an annoying day still nagging as she left school.  Maybe I will just say she decided to walk, hoping to avoid, 'twit face', her annoying 11-year-old brother.  Or something less reflective.  This is exactly what I wanted to hear though.  I have re-writen the opening para about 3 gazzilion times...

I get what you suggest about her road, which is in the north of England.  Not that it may take you off track a little if, I describe the broad oaks and such like.  I will think about it, as I have done so, so many times.

Steve


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## Steve (Jul 14, 2011)

Hey Scarlet,

How about this slight change, might now be a tad clunky...


Rebecca decided her best option was walking home from school. She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would get the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see. She just wasn’t in the mood for him, or any more of his flipping football antics. When she eventually turned into her road, there he was, still hanging about, kicking his damn football about like some kind of circus act. ‘Sod it,’ she moaned, ‘twit face.’ She waited for a few seconds and when he wasn’t looking, sneaked behind the ancient sweeping oaks that lined her road like a guard of honour. Well, her Nan had said they watched over her on her way home, and she liked that idea.

Steve


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## scarletlight (Jul 14, 2011)

I like the description with the oaks. It does well with setting the scene, and the part about the nan is a nice touch.
The new opening definately makes sense. I don't know for sure that you were wrong about the tensing in the first place, so you might want to get a second opinion on that.
The part about the oaks certainly fleshes out the surroundings alot better, I can now imagine where they might be.
A much better rewrite in my opinion.


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## Bruce Wayne (Jul 14, 2011)

I found this an intriguing peice, I would be interested to see how it develops in to a fantasy. One thing I would like to say, I did find the insult 'twit' a bit annoying (I fully accept that this might just be me).


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## Steve (Jul 14, 2011)

Bruce, it's a rather English school boy/girl term. I grew up calling my younger brother a twit, he was and still is, he-he. I think it's kinda endearing, in an odd sibling-esq way. Well, that's the intention.

Glad you liked it, I hope you spotted how she think's i.e. 'witches don't live in Tudor houses,' and there's the fantasy link for now... more will follow. And there's a hint in my signature too...

Thank you for taking the time to read and give your much appreciated opinions.

Steve

Steve


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## Aderyn (Jul 15, 2011)

This has a lot of promise.  I like the way you have hinted at things to come, and I get the feeling that if readers stick with this they will enjoy an interesting story.  

I'm going to 'work through' some specific paragraphs.  I have made some possible alterations in red.



Steve said:


> Long before she left school, Rebecca had decided her best option was walking home. She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would get the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see. All day he’d aggravated her, and she wasn’t in the mood for him, or any more of his flipping football antics. When she eventually turned into her road, there he was, still hanging about, kicking his damn football about like some kind of circus act. ‘Sod it,’ she moaned, ‘twit face.’ She waited for a few seconds and when he wasn’t looking, she sneaked behind the parked cars.
> 
> Half way down the road, she glanced around wondering where the hell he’d gone. Then as she turned, she spotted his dirty football flying towards her. Although she managed to duck out of the way, she still ended up flat on her backside. To make things worse, her books were all over the pavement, and one of her drawings had landed in a puddle. Feeling like a complete fool, she licked her raw knuckles and once more looked around. He’d disappeared, again. Seething, she took several deep breaths and keeping one eye out, carefully gathered her gear together. She wanted to shout some abuse, so badly, but knew that would just make her feel worse.



I like the imagery of her raw knuckles, it makes it real for readers.



> When it came to a battle of wills, or any form of conflict, Rebecca often struggled with her emotions. Her feisty side always wanted to fight back, while the gentle half opted to say nothing. She’d normally end up keeping quiet, but then feel cross with herself, knowing she was doing exactly what her mum does. As far back as she could remember it had annoyed her how her mum always chose the silent option, even when people had clearly taken liberties. However, when it came to Tommy, Rebecca saw him as a stupid little twit and could rarely resist fronting him up. Just lately though, he had become increasingly intimidating, and she suspected this had a lot to do with his extra height. Almost overnight, he had shot up, and now stood at least six inches taller than her, and a whole lot more argumentative. Recently, she’d managed to take no notice, but his manner had started to wear thin, particularly since they went back to school.



I think you could change some of this to make it more 'showing' of her stuggles - for example, consider  the first line, perhaps - *"Rebecca could feel the same old battle of wills begin to rise.  One part of her was like a raging lion, ready to fight to the death.  The other part was more like Mother Teresa, gentle and understanding...."*
Overall there is a little too much wordy expalnation, when some imagery and analogy could show the reader more effectively.



> She hadn’t a clue what the _‘or else’_ would be, but guessed something would come to mind; _after all, he is just a stupid kid_.


This bit made me laugh, I think we've all been in this situation!



> Mrs. Howe was a cantankerous old spinster who lived with her equally quarrelsome sister in one of the largest Tudor houses in this affluent road. The families who lived in Vista Drive, were a mixture of successful folks from the financial world – like her father – a handful of lawyers, one professional footballer – who had just moved in much to the delight of Tommy – and of course, the obligatory second-hand car salesman.



I'm not sure about the name of the street - "Vista Drive", for a place with tudor houses it seems like a very modern name.  But I like the rest of the description.



> Rebecca had heard many people question how the sisters had come about this house, and it seemed to her the old girls were happy that way. There were of course many rumours, indeed a couple of the children had suggested they practiced witchcraft, but Rebecca dismissed any such ideas, and in a way admired their privacy. Besides, she knew they weren’t witches, because they don’t live in Tudor houses since it reminds them of bad times. She had often wondered why people worried themselves with such things, but then she had never come up against either sister, always managing to stay out of the way. She was aware that Tommy had fallen foul of these ol’ gals’ and suspected on this occasion, perhaps their reputation might just benefit her.



I lked this general intoduction to the sisters, it makes me wonder what else is to come.



> He may be six inches taller, but he’d just over stepped the mark, and she wasn’t having him pointing his finger at her like that. ‘Have to copy Dad, do ya’, can’t think for yourself, wagging your stupid finger at me.’ She then grabbed his finger and bent it backwards.


This is another childhood thing I think many readers would identify with.

Overall I think this is almost ready for publication.  You might consider how you could eliminate some of the wordy 'telling' and replace it with some imagery/analogy.  The dialogue is very English, however I think this is ok as you have clearly established the setting (the tudor houses).  

Thanks for sharing this steve, I think it will be an interesting piece.  The only question is why is this first chapter called 'The Whispering Pond'?


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## AvA (Jul 15, 2011)

I only have a couple of issues in what otherwise is a charming piece of written work.

First,



> Long before she left school



I think this was mentioned by someone else before me. Personally, it sort of implied or pointed to a situation in a distant past before she left/dropped out of school. I'll offer this suggestion here: "Long before the school bell rang for a day's completion,"

Secondly, I had a issue with the dialogue as I couldn't really follow it. This is, however, merely personal.

Thank you for the read, Steve!


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## Steve (Jul 15, 2011)

Guys, great feedback, I mean really great feedback.

Ad' I agree about the second, 'she. However, the 'so badly', has to stay, just a personal thing, my voice if you like. I get the telling vs. showing bit. I will re-visit that with a different perspective. Vista was an intentional name, meaning view through a narrow opening, or mental picture. Its inflection means, situation, which seems to make anything possible (and I know that you will appreciate that). It’s a kind of hidden agenda, if you like. Oh, and incidentally, it's set in 2007, which makes her actions, behavior even more unusual.

AvA, If you have a look at the 4th post, I have completely re-written the opening paragraph. I get your point about the dialogue. It is a little slang, i.e. "Scouse" which is the term used to describe a Liverpool accent. That said slang is slang when you write it, and Tommy, in particular, could be talking with a cockney (London), Geordie, Newcastle, to a degree, or any other slang reference. I could have gone for some strong colloquialisms. However, I restrained myself, he-he.

Overall folks, thank you so much. Your words have made all the effort worth the effort.

Edit, 'Fallen foul' is another colloquialism, referring to a chicken having it's neck rung, which leads to another, 'I will ring your neck. And, I used R's thoughts about the sisters to show you how she thinks.

Edit, edit. You're the 2nd person to ask, so I will give you some more of the first chapter that relates to the 'Whispering Pond.'


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## Steve (Jul 15, 2011)

Hows this read Ad'?

Rebecca could feel herself struggling with her emotions.  Her feisty side wanted to front the little twit up, while her gentle half knew she was better off saying nothing.  But then if she said nothing, she’d be doing what her mum does and that would never do.  It seemed to her that Tommy had shot up overnight, and this extra height had made him a whole lot more argumentative.  Over the summer holidays, she’d managed to take no notice, but since they went back to school, well.  She sighed, decided to say nothing, and picked up her last book.  She was about to head home when she noticed him across the road, sitting behind a parked car, digging at something with a stick.  As if to annoy her, he glanced up and acted as if she wasn’t there.  Still smarting from her raw knuckles, and aggravated further by his flippant disregard, she felt unable to hold her emotions in any longer.  She took a deep breath, and yelled, ‘Bloody had enough of you for one day.  Stupid git, leave me alone, or else.’  She hadn’t a clue what the _‘or else’_ would be, but guessed something would come to mind; _after all, he is just a stupid kid_.  She glared at him, but he was acting as if he hadn’t heard her.  She’d spied him glance up at least twice, and knew he was being an idiot.  ‘Missed me with your ball, twit,’ she hollered.


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## Bilston Blue (Jul 15, 2011)

Hi Steve

It's an interesting opening, and in response to another thread you started somewhere else regarding where the action should start, I think there is tension and conflict here in abundance, if not edge-of-the-seat drama. I think the spinsters have potential to be great characters, especially in a young adult story and the theory of them being witches. You mentioned in that other thread your chapters tend to be approx 5000 words, I think, and I'm thinking might that be a little on the long side for a YA novel? Just a thought.

A couple of technical points and the like:



> The families who lived in Vista Drive, were a mixture of successful folks from the financial world


I believe the comma here is unnecessary. Read it aloud and pause where the comma is.



> She was aware that Tommy had fallen *fowl* of these ol’ gals’


Two things: _foul_ NOT_ fowl_. And, should _gals'_ be apostrophised? It is not plural, and I don't think it's a contraction like _ol'_, more a different take on the word girls, with its own unique spelling.



> She knew this would annoy him even more but by that stage, she just wanted to teach him a lesson.


Again, I think the comma is unnecessary, or possibly moved to precede _but._

I'm a fussy old goat when it comes to punctuation and spelling (though still learning on the punctuation side and therefore far from perfect myself.)

This isn't the sort of thing I'd read, I'm not into fantasy and a YA I most certainly ain't, though it is written solidly enough, is not overly wordy, and conveys the story well, as much of it as we can see in this excerpt.

Hope some of this is useful, and good luck with it.

Scott.

ps. Don't professional footballers live in *mock* tudor houses? You know, the ones with no taste, no style, no architectural integrity.


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## Aderyn (Jul 15, 2011)

Steve said:


> Hows this read Ad'?
> 
> Rebecca could feel herself struggling with her emotions. Her feisty side wanted to front the little twit up, while her gentle half knew she was better off saying nothing. But then if she said nothing, she’d be doing what her mum does and that would never do. It seemed to her that Tommy had shot up overnight, and this extra height had made him a whole lot more argumentative. Over the summer holidays, she’d managed to take no notice, but since they went back to school, well. She sighed, decided to say nothing, and picked up her last book. She was about to head home when she noticed him across the road, sitting behind a parked car, digging at something with a stick. As if to annoy her, he glanced up and acted as if she wasn’t there. Still smarting from her raw knuckles, and aggravated further by his flippant disregard, she felt unable to hold her emotions in any longer. She took a deep breath, and yelled, ‘Bloody had enough of you for one day. Stupid git, leave me alone, or else.’ She hadn’t a clue what the _‘or else’_ would be, but guessed something would come to mind; _after all, he is just a stupid kid_. She glared at him, but he was acting as if he hadn’t heard her. She’d spied him glance up at least twice, and knew he was being an idiot. ‘Missed me with your ball, twit,’ she hollered.



This is more polished and better writing. I have another suggestion or two (maybe I'm just being picky here  ).

I think an ellipsis would fit nicely after "but since they went back to school, well *...*"

This would connect her next thought nicely.

Also when you say "she’d be doing what her mum does " I wonder if you could give us a quick image of what that looks like, maybe mum lights another cigarette rather than stand up for herself, or something like that.


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## Steve (Jul 16, 2011)

Scott,

Thanks, and great spots, nearly all agreed with and done, although I thought Oxford rules a comma before she, unless she is an observation.  If I take the second she out, which I could, it def needs a comma. I use the spinsters to show how Rebecca thinks, so they do serve a purpose, and some, including the ball over their hedge. So pleased you appreciate the conflict in this snippet. Thank you for taking the time to read something you don't like.

Ad,

Great point about the ellipsis, that’s now done. Mum's behavior issues come a little later in the chapter. In essence; Rebecca watched as her mum assumed that all too familiar pose, touching her left cheek, clenching her G&T, and staring aimlessly through the kitchen window. _Why didn't she say something?_
Hopefully it makes you want to find out what her mum does... and it worked he-he.

Steve


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## Aderyn (Jul 16, 2011)

Steve said:


> Mum's behavior issues come a little later in the chapter. In essence; Rebecca watched as her mum assumed that all too familiar pose, touching her left cheek, clenching her G&T, and staring aimlessly through the kitchen window. _Why didn't she say something?_



Love it!  Very clear picture


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## MissTiraMissSu (Jul 16, 2011)

I read all of it, I liked it, would love to see more but there was ONE thing that kept biting at me. 

_She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would get the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see.
_
I thought it was 
_
 She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would get *ON* the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see.
or 
_ _She knew her annoying 11-year-old brother would *take* the bus, and he was the last person she wanted to see.


_I have no idea, but it reads better to me. Sorry, ha.


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## Steve (Jul 20, 2011)

Fab spot MissSu.

Thnx

Steve


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