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 Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:13 am
So, I was just invited to this guild, -Never been part of a guild before let me add.- and I decided to check it out a bit. It seems really awesome, and I think I will be spending quite a bit of time here. (:
So this is the beginning of the book that I've been working on for almost a year now. I've put a lot of effort into it, and I hope you enjoy it. (: Critique, but I would appreciate it if you were gentle about it. We all know how people can be once they get behind a computer screen.
Alright, Here's my story. I hope you enjoy it.
The Nile
Part One: Dark Egyptian Nights
This is a story that may -or just as easily may not- change the way you as a human being look at all of the “small”, or “insignificant” things in your everyday life. I suppose it is only fair to warn you straight off, though, that this story contains just the right dosage of tragedy, as well as love. Here begins the story of two fragile souls. Two children lost in the evil of this world, only to be saved by the stunning beauty of love.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
Our story begins with the boy. Mohamed Imrad Abadi. There’s probably a few things you should know about Mohamed.
1. He was not stupid.
2. He feared empty bottles and loud noises.
3. He fell in love once over the course of his whole life.
4. He was dirt poor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He walked outside, and wrapped his scarf more tightly around his face to keep out the stench of sweat and dog feces. He walked down the dirty, crowded street toward the small building that housed the equivalent of a school inside. Most children were working at this time of year, and usually kids his age didn’t bother with school, anyways, so Mohamed was one of the only ones in the class. A professor from the states was attempting to teach them English and arithmetic. The man didn’t know a single word of Arabic himself, so it was a largely failed attempt.
Being the youngest in his family, his father thought he was useless. The man was drunk all the time anyways, so Mohamed could care less about what he thought. Often, Mohamed snuck out to do things like this. He would walk the mile or so to the small school, or the few blocks to the small market to beg or steal food for himself. The boy was smart. He had to be.
Otherwise he would be dead by now.
He bent down to tighten the straps of his dirty, obviously stolen sandals as a group of tourists walked by, snapping pictures of the buildings and people and pointing. Why do they even come here? There’s nothing to see. They only intrude. He walked through the doors of the building and down the narrow hallway. He entered the room that he learned in -to some extent anyways-, and sat down at a desk that his long, teenage legs barely fit under, in a chair that was so small that he was almost falling off the side. He reached into his little, threadbare bag and took out a piece of paper that was already halfway filled from the classes of the previous days. His pencil was no more than a stub, sharpened with a knife the night before.
He looked around. There were only three other children in the room, all of them younger than his fourteen years. If he were normal, he wouldn’t be at school at his age. If he were a normal, he would be working and providing for his family. If he were normal, he would be happy to even be alive. Instead, he wanted more than the slums. Instead, he was providing for himself the only way that he could: by getting an education so that he could get himself out of Egypt someday. Someday better come soon, he thought, because I’m getting tired of this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now that the scene is set, it is time to move on to our other friend. Heather Elizabeth Sullivan. There’s also a few things you should know about Heather.
1. She was not average.
2. She feared too many things to count.
3. She also fell in love only once.
4. She was an American.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She took a deep breath, and stepped onto the airplane. She was not looking forward to ten hours in the air. What she was looking forward to was three weeks in Cairo. Heather had always wanted to visit Egypt, although she hated being a tourist. She always felt like an intruder when she was away from home.
They shuffled towards the back of the plane. No way that they would be flying first-class. They sat down in the seats that their tickets portrayed. Her mother, Kate, smiled and took the vial of sleeping pills out of her purse. Heather smiled back, and held out of her hand where her mother deposited two small pills. She had no idea where her mother had gotten the money to take a trip to Egypt, but frankly she didn’t care. She was just happy to get the chance to experience something like this. She swallowed the pills unhappily.
It would be just Heather and her mother on this trip. Her younger brother, Jonathan, was staying with their grandparents back home, and her father had died a little more than two years ago.
The pilot came on over the loudspeakers and said what he was required to say on every flight. Heather buckled her seatbelt -long before anyone else did- and shoved her carry-on bag which held her book and her paper and pencils inside under the seat in front of her. She made careful note of where the emergency exits were. She hated taking off in air planes. She hated being in the air in air planes. She hated landing in air planes.
Heck, Heather just hated flying.
She felt so vulnerable when she was going so fast. To make it worse, they were going to fly over the ocean. She wasn’t a big fan of deep water to begin with. Heather was one of those people who just let her fears take over. She closed her eyes as they began to roll slowly onto the runway. At least the weather was good. They waited for a few other planes took off before them. Heather clutched the arm rests and took deep breaths as they gathered speed. The wheels lifted and bumped against the runway. Lifted and bumped, lifted and bumped, and suddenly they were flying. Within ten minutes, she was asleep, drooling on her mother’s shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mohamed watched the American professor’s mouth as he talked, his words sounding strange to someone who’s ears were so accustomed to the smoother language of Arabic. He just wished the man would slow down. He was understanding less than half of what the man was saying. He raised his hand. “Could you slow down your speaking of the language please maybe?” he asked in his best English.
The professor replied with a curt “No,” and continued on with his lesson. He honestly didn’t care at all about Mohamed or teaching him.
A few hours later, Mohamed walked out of the doors. The setting sun was not as hot as earlier on his back. His mocha colored skin was glad for the break. He walked as slowly as he could, but eventually he reached the small house that they shared with two other families. He smelled alcohol as soon as he walked in the doorway, which was always a bad sign.
-Unfortunately this kind of thing happened often- He unwrapped the scarf from his face. He noticed his father sitting at the table with his four older brothers, and the two other men who shared the house with them. All of them were drinking some kind of vodka or whiskey. Mohamed turned to go back out the door, but it was too late; his father had spotted him.
“Mohamed.” The large man grunted angrily, slurring like the stupid pig that he was. Mohamed turned around, scared of what was inevitably coming.
“Y-yes father?” his voice was a barely audible whisper.
“Come here, boy.” Mohamed walked over to the table, his knees shaking. “Where have you been all day?” he asked in his sickeningly calm voice. Mohamed didn’t answer. School was better off kept as a secret. “ANSWER ME BOY!” Mohamed still said nothing, not knowing what to say.
His father stood, and hit him hard in the chest with a force that knocked Mohamed to the ground. He walked around the table and started to kick Mohamed in the ribs, as the boy scrambled backwards. His older brothers were laughing at him drunkenly. “GET OUT!” screamed his father. “YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF GARBAGE!! YOU WILL NEVER, EVER BE GOOD ENOUGH!” Mohamed scrambled to his hands and knees and tried to crawl out the door as his father screamed curses behind him.
He risked a backwards glance and saw his mother with the two other women against the far wall. She was staring, wide eyed from under her scarf. -She really did care for him, just as any mother cares for her child.- His father kicked him again, hard in the shin. Mohamed screamed in pain. His father sat back down, satisfied. When he was contentedly drinking and laughing again, Mohamed stood, and limped as quickly as he could out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heather opened her eyes in fear as the airplane jiggled a little bit. -Going through a cloud or something.- How long had she been sleeping? She checked her watch. Four hours, six more to go. She looked over at her mother, who was sleeping peacefully. Heather took out her book and started to read. She couldn’t really concentrate, though, so instead she took out a pad of paper and a pencil -this one was not a stub sharpened the night before- and started to draw. Clouds and pyramids and lions with wings appeared on the white paper. She had been drawing for about an hour when she fell into sleep again. When she woke up, Kate was shaking her. “We’re about to land!” she exclaimed, smiling widely. The pilot was telling everyone to fasten their seatbelts. -Heather had never un-fastened hers to begin with.-
Finally. She thought. That was a LONG flight. -Even though she had only been awake for about an hour of it.-
Time to land. She was shaking as they touched down, but she didn’t let anyone see. She had inherited her father’s pride. -As well as his blue eyes and fear of flying.- She composed herself as they pulled up to the building. She stood up, and walked painfully slowly off the plane. -People just do not know how to exit a plane efficiently- She just wanted to get out of this metal death-trap.
Finally, she emerged into the airport. Her mother grabbed her elbow, and led the way to the baggage claim. Heather despised when her mother grabbed her elbow. -As many teenagers do- They each grabbed their medium sized suit-cases off of the conveyor belt, and walked out the doors, into the heat of Northeastern Africa.
It was beautiful. The sun was shining. People were walking and talking and yelling and laughing. It was really a wonderful place. -Or at least the part that she could see was wonderful- They waited for the bus that would take them to their hotel. When it came, Heather stepped on after her mother in a trance. Some of the people she recognized from the flight were getting on behind them. Heather contentedly looked out the window at the people passing by as the doors hissed shut and the bus started to move down the street.
I have more done than this, (About 19 pages of it), Although this is the best part so far, I think. Thank you for reading. (:
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:56 am
I know this looks really long, but it’s not a lot of changes, nor many big ones. I’m just explaining why I recommend the changes so it looks longer. Also, it's only the first section I've done so far, I wanted to know if you were okay with the way I was critiquing you before I continued. I do like what I've read of the story so far though!
1. He was not stupid. – a little awkward. You can say he was smart, but in such a short list, you probably shouldn’t tell us what he’s not.
4. He was dirt poor. –love to have a metaphor or something here, instead of a statement. One of the most important things you can do in writing it to show and not tell. Here you chose to list out some facts, so it would be great to have an analogy or metaphor, etc, to make us think a little instead of reading a short list.
He walked outside, and wrapped his scarf more tightly around his face to keep out the stench of sweat and dog feces – I like this sentence, good start, but you don’t need a comma there, and further, I would recommend: “he walked outside, *wrapping* his scarf more tightly around his face” so that the first sentence isn’t a conjunction. I just think it would flow better this way.
Most children were working at this time of year, and usually kids his age didn’t bother with school, anyways, so Mohamed was one of the only ones in the class.- You don’t need a comma between school and anyways, and it’s a run on sentence. I’d recommend: “Most children were working at this time of year, *since* kids his age *usually* didn’t bother with school anyways. As a result, Mohamed was one of the only children in his class.”
A professor from the states was attempting to teach them English and arithmetic. The man didn’t know a single word of Arabic himself, so it was a largely failed attempt.- it’s a time jump here that you don’t intend, since the professor was ‘attempting’ to teach them, means he’s doing it right now. It’s an ambiguity problem. Not sure how you should word it, but definitely keep it in (I like the idea) and just word it a little different.
Being the youngest in his family, his father thought he was useless.- “Being the youngest in his family, his father thought “Mohamed* was useless.” Just another ambiguity thing. You always know who you’re talking about when you’re the one writing it, just make sure to step back and make sure everyone else can understand as well. If you make this change, then the following sentence should begin with “His father” instead of –The man-
He would walk the mile or so to the small school, or the few blocks to the small market to beg or steal food for himself. The boy was smart. He had to be.- Again, I like this sentence and the idea behind it, just small changes. Mainly I’d like to know how often he does this. I.e.: “Sometimes he would walk the mile or so to the small school. Other days, he’d (put some variation of walk here) to the market a few blocks away to beg or steal himself food.”
Otherwise he would be dead by now.- I think you could use something stronger than otherwise, like “If he didn’t, he’d be dead by now.” This one may very well be a personal choice though.
He bent down to tighten the straps of his dirty, obviously stolen sandals as a group of tourists walked by, snapping pictures of the buildings and people and pointing.- no comma between dirty and obviously stolen. You only need commas when you have three descriptive items, not two, and since obviously is included as one with stolen here, you don’t need it.
Why do they even come here? There’s nothing to see. They only intrude.- you have to say he’s thinking or wondering this somewhere, otherwise it’s an unstated transition between narrator and the boy.
He entered the room that he learned in -to some extent anyways-, and sat down at a desk that his long, teenage legs barely fit under, in a chair that was so small that he was almost falling off the side.- more small ambiguity issues. -To some extent- implies that he only partially entered the room. Also, I’d recommend calling it a classroom, even though I see you tried to avoid that, because ‘room that he learned in’ just seems slightly awkward. Instead of ‘long teenage legs’ (again, you don’t need a comma between long and teenage) you may want to try a word like “gangly” because it’s a little more powerful.
He reached into his little, threadbare bag and took out a piece of paper that was already halfway filled from the classes of the previous days. His pencil was no more than a stub, sharpened with a knife the night before.- I recommend more minor rewording- “and took out a piece of paper, already halfway filled with notes from the previous day’s classes.” But I also really like this part, it’s a good image of his poverty.
If he were normal, he wouldn’t be at school at his age. If he were a normal, he would be working and providing for his family. If he were normal, he would be happy to even be alive.- I really like this! My only thing is that you already mentioned that kids his age weren’t in school, and it’s too soon to repeat it, so I’d take it out the first time you said it and keep it here. It would have much more impact if you’re wondering why the desk and chairs are too small, then bam! You’re hit with the information that kids his age don’t even get to go to school. It makes it very clear that he’s an exception, which is good.
Instead, he wanted more than the slums. Instead, he was providing for himself the only way that he could: by getting an education so that he could get himself out of Egypt someday. Someday better come soon, he thought, because I’m getting tired of this.- I understand the use of repetition here, and you’re using it because you just repeated ‘if he were normal’ in the last little chunk, but it’s a little much. I’d just take out the first instead which makes that first sentence shorter and, again, it will have more impact. “He wanted more than the slums.”
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 11:33 am
Thank you very much for your advice. I really do like the way that you critique. (: I see where you're coming from with everything that you said, and I've been looking for ways to make this better for a long time.
Soon I think I'll post more of what I have, if that is okay. I'd really like to see what you think.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 11:38 am
Alrighty then! ^_^ When I have a chunk of free time I'll go through the rest of it and critique. I'm glad I could be of help. And I do look forward to seeing more of your work in the future.
Welcome to Shryiz!
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 11:39 am
Thank you very much for inviting me here. (:
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 11:41 am
I'm glad you joined! I search carefully for everyone I send an invite to, so I'm always thrilled when they accept. Doubly so since you seem like you're going to be an active member of the guild.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 12:26 pm
Of course. (: I've been looking for a good writer's guild for a long time now. I like this one very much.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 12:37 pm
Here's the next bit. I don't think that it is as good, as I haven't edited it very much, but I would love to see what you think.
Our two friends come from completely different worlds as you can see. The average middle-class American girl, and the poor Egyptian boy, beaten by his drunken father. How, you ask, will the two ever meet? Well, if you will kindly allow me to proceed, you will find out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, Mohamed slept in a doorway. -I’m sure you can imagine how comfortable that would be.- He woke up to a large woman with a broom shooing him away. He limped down the street, still half asleep, his leg still hurting. He didn’t know where he was going -Not that it mattered anyways.- He would never go back home, at least not if he could help it. He was old enough to make it on his own now, and he was sick of the bruises and the yelling.
As he moved forward, he noticed somewhere in the back of his mind that the buildings were getting taller, and the streets, cleaner. He didn’t realize it at first, but he was stumbling out of the slums, which he had never been fortunate enough to venture out of in his entire life, and into the hustle and bustle of the Cairo that was ruled by the tourists and the rich men and women of modern Egypt.
Suddenly, as he walked out of an alleyway, he stumbled upon the river, gaping at him with all of its shining brilliance. Could this be the river he had learned so much about in his little classroom? Indeed, this was the Nile River. He had lived so close to it all of his life, and he had never seen it until now. Boats were traveling up and down, and tourists were everywhere. They infested the place like ants, snapping pictures and chattering. Mohamed was disgusted. These people got to come here ALL they way from the United States and England and Indonesia to see this river, and to enjoy it, when all he had ever had to do was walk a few miles, but had never had the chance. What made them so special?
He noticed a small building next to the river, and walked up to it. There was a sign on the door that proclaimed:
-Now hiring-
It was written in both Arabic and English. Curious, Mohamed walked inside. There was a man behind a desk. He was very large, and had a bristly, black moustache. He painfully reminded Mohamed of his father, so much that he almost turned and walked back out the door. The man beckoned him over. Cautiously, Mohamed approached the man. “You speak Arabic?” he asked. Mohamed nodded. “Are you here for a job?” the man sounded kind enough, so Mohamed answered “Um, yes I am. You’re hiring?” The man laughed and nodded.
“Of course.” -It was obvious how much Mohamed needed a job and a place to stay- “At this place, we give tours of the Nile river for tourists.”
Mortified, Mohamed asked “The entire thing?!” the man laughed again.
“Of course not, silly. Just a mile stretch of it. So what do you say? Do you need a job? A place to stay? Some money?” Mohamed hadn’t yet thought about money for things like food. Or even a place to stay.
“I don’t know how to drive a boat, though.” He said.
“That’s all right, boy. It’s not hard to learn.” It shocked Mohamed to hear the man call him “boy” as his father had. It disturbed him a little, but he didn’t let it show. “I can teach you how.”
What other option did he have?
“I’ll take the job.” he said with an air of finality.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Heather and her mother stepped off the bus, their moods were very different. Heather was overjoyed at the cute little hotel, and Kate was absolutely mortified that it wasn’t the high end, five star hotel she had booked online. -Ah, well. What choice did they have?-
“I suppose we had better go and check in, then.”
They walked inside, and Kate was relieved that the place was at least air conditioned. They made their way over to the reception desk, and checked themselves into their room. They were on the top floor. -Only the second.- The walked up the single flight of stairs, and down the narrow hallway to the room with the number 14 on the door. They used their key to unlock the door, and went inside. There was a single, queen sized bed with crisp, white sheets, and a balcony with sliding doors. There was a small television on a wooden desk, and a small closet. They quickly unpacked their things into the closet, and decided to rest for a bit. Heather sat down on the bed and sighed happily. Her mother sat next to her, rather unhappily. Heather wondered what was bothering her.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked, instead.
“We’re going on a tour of the Pyramids and the Sphinx.” her mother said, brightening up a little bit.
“. . .and the next?”
“Just a day of shopping, and walking around.”
“Alright.” Heather didn’t like to plan too far ahead. Her mother knew this, and didn’t try to push any other plans on her. “Do you think we could go take a tour of the Nile River one day?”
“Sure, Honey. I left a few days open so that we could do what we wanted, if we found anything when we got here.”
“Alright.” Heather said, smiling to herself. She had always been fascinated by the Nile River. The longest river in the world… what a cool concept. She hadn’t learned very much about it in school, so she decided that this would be a learning experience, and that she would learn everything possible about the Nile. Something else that she had inherited from her father was that once she got her mind set on something, nobody could change it. Nobody could penetrate her concentration.
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