Hello, hello.
I've been looking around here for about a month, and decided to chip in today. I'm 16 with a horribly strong ambition to finish and publish by this spring. Like most, I'm not the best, but I hope to help out around here and get some great critique sometimes.
Here's my main project, just a snippet from chapter one. I know, it seems roughed up, but I didn't want to join up with my hands empty.
Title: Absoulte Evocations
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Present Day Fantasy/Sci-Fi
Word Count: 901
Summary: For Robert Hills and Buddy Ashwalker, it seemed like a normal fall day. That is, until they see that the Government has paid a visit to their school. As a part of a survey and study, they offer a most interesting product; supernatural abilities. Yet, as Bud, Adam, and their troupe discover, with power comes conflict.
Rob opened the nearly out-of-order refridgerator, it contained an almost empty jar of peanut butter and a full loaf of bread. Though, his attention was drawn to the dozens of orange juice bottles on the inside door shelf. He took one bottle by it's glass neck, ripping off the plastic top and drinking the bottle with no pause. He put the empty bottle back, clearing his throat of the little bit of orange juice that had gone down the wrong way. He fixed his short black hair up, pushing it forward with a handful of water from the newly bought silver sink beside the refridgerator. It was clear that he was in a hurry, his movements were quick and deliberate. He began to clean up the array of food that was carelessly left out the night before, it was another unfortunate night that he had missed a party that a friend threw while he was asleep. A block of cheese was the last thing to go, Rob had no intentions of touching it. He pulled the trash can up to the edge of the counter and pushed the cheese over with a nearby spatula. He slid the trash can back and bolted out the doorway into the living room. The area was a complete mess, red cups and styrofoam plates littered the floor and couch. Though small, the living room was quite cozy. The drapes hid the living room, dawning the excess light onto the couch. Rob groaned at the new found dirty room, grabbing an over-sized backpack on the couch and slinging it over his shoulder. He hurried past the small walkway between the coffee table and television set, making his way to an old wooden front door. He pulled it open, sliding out of the small space he gave himself.
The surrounding neighborhood was very well kept; honey locust trees lined the sidewalk, the houses were well kept, and had an overall feeling of tranquility. The sun was above the horizon now, the apricot light shined upon the whole street. ((4/16/08)) There weren't many cars parked along side the street, mainly because many of the neighborhood's residents cared a tad bit more than others and kept them safe in their garages. The houses too, were a sign, they were grand and their yards were spacious, some even had guest house; Rob was a resident of one of those guest houses.
He stepped out onto a mat that was imprinted with the word "Welcome!" and inhaled deeply, taking special note to this morning's details. In front of him was a winding brick pathway that was somewhat narrow, leading to a concrete area that displayed a top-of-the-line grill and a fairly large patio table and chairs. Beyond this area, the brick pathway led straight to a glimmering pool that spanned at least ten feet across the backyard. On either side, a very well kept garage was to it's left, and an even more glamorous two-story house to the right. Rob shrugged, strolling his way to the pristine house, across the almost flawless green lawn. Coming to a window that was almost his height, he knocked almost furiously on the pane. The blinds that had shielded the inside from wandering eyes flew upwards, a round-faced teenager with copper toned skin glared out, staring at Rob. He brushed back his black, straight and somewhat long hair from his eyes and raised the window up, making a slight shriek of metal-against-metal.
"Hey... your hair's kind of... messy." Rob mentioned to him as he climbed out of the window.
"So? It's always like this..." He replied, pushing his feet out.
This was Buddy "Bud" Ashwalker. Bud and Rob, best friends to the first degree, have been waking up thirty minutes after the suggested time for getting to school everyday. Both sixteen, Bud and Rob have been living like this for two years. Bud's parents could be called filthy rich at the peak of their salaries, which is why their house, garage, and guest house were not standard living conditions. In their philosophy, Bud's parents believed that Rob was too mature for his previous living conditions, and thus giving him the pleasure of staying in their guest house, the only reason for Rob's residence being that he and Bud were close friends. But with this lavish gift came responsibility, as with all good things. Cleaning, cooking, shopping, maintaining, and hard work had been what Rob was charged with, though he saw no challenge in any of them.
Bud landed on the perfect grass below; his figure was enormous. Standing at six-foot-three and weighing approximately three hundred pounds, Bud towered over Rob's five-foot-five and one hundred and fifteen pound physique. Their physical structures were completely the opposite; Rob's shoulder were small and drawn in, while Bud's shoulders were straight and almost board-like. Even their clothes differed entirely, Bud wore loose denim jeans that sagged down to his thighs, he donned a red and black lumberjack's sweatshirt, and a black shirt with various illustrations beneath it. Rob wore denim jeans as well, but his were pulled to his waist and extremely snug around his lower half. His upper half only differed in size, a black faded concert T-Shirt clung to his body. Bud easily reached into the veiled darkness beyond the window and took his backpack by the strap, hauling it outside and onto one shoulder.
"Ready?" Rob sighed.
Here's my main project, just a snippet from chapter one. I know, it seems roughed up, but I didn't want to join up with my hands empty.
Title: Absoulte Evocations
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Present Day Fantasy/Sci-Fi
Word Count: 901
Summary: For Robert Hills and Buddy Ashwalker, it seemed like a normal fall day. That is, until they see that the Government has paid a visit to their school. As a part of a survey and study, they offer a most interesting product; supernatural abilities. Yet, as Bud, Adam, and their troupe discover, with power comes conflict.
Rob opened the nearly out-of-order refridgerator, it contained an almost empty jar of peanut butter and a full loaf of bread. Though, his attention was drawn to the dozens of orange juice bottles on the inside door shelf. He took one bottle by it's glass neck, ripping off the plastic top and drinking the bottle with no pause. He put the empty bottle back, clearing his throat of the little bit of orange juice that had gone down the wrong way. He fixed his short black hair up, pushing it forward with a handful of water from the newly bought silver sink beside the refridgerator. It was clear that he was in a hurry, his movements were quick and deliberate. He began to clean up the array of food that was carelessly left out the night before, it was another unfortunate night that he had missed a party that a friend threw while he was asleep. A block of cheese was the last thing to go, Rob had no intentions of touching it. He pulled the trash can up to the edge of the counter and pushed the cheese over with a nearby spatula. He slid the trash can back and bolted out the doorway into the living room. The area was a complete mess, red cups and styrofoam plates littered the floor and couch. Though small, the living room was quite cozy. The drapes hid the living room, dawning the excess light onto the couch. Rob groaned at the new found dirty room, grabbing an over-sized backpack on the couch and slinging it over his shoulder. He hurried past the small walkway between the coffee table and television set, making his way to an old wooden front door. He pulled it open, sliding out of the small space he gave himself.
The surrounding neighborhood was very well kept; honey locust trees lined the sidewalk, the houses were well kept, and had an overall feeling of tranquility. The sun was above the horizon now, the apricot light shined upon the whole street. ((4/16/08)) There weren't many cars parked along side the street, mainly because many of the neighborhood's residents cared a tad bit more than others and kept them safe in their garages. The houses too, were a sign, they were grand and their yards were spacious, some even had guest house; Rob was a resident of one of those guest houses.
He stepped out onto a mat that was imprinted with the word "Welcome!" and inhaled deeply, taking special note to this morning's details. In front of him was a winding brick pathway that was somewhat narrow, leading to a concrete area that displayed a top-of-the-line grill and a fairly large patio table and chairs. Beyond this area, the brick pathway led straight to a glimmering pool that spanned at least ten feet across the backyard. On either side, a very well kept garage was to it's left, and an even more glamorous two-story house to the right. Rob shrugged, strolling his way to the pristine house, across the almost flawless green lawn. Coming to a window that was almost his height, he knocked almost furiously on the pane. The blinds that had shielded the inside from wandering eyes flew upwards, a round-faced teenager with copper toned skin glared out, staring at Rob. He brushed back his black, straight and somewhat long hair from his eyes and raised the window up, making a slight shriek of metal-against-metal.
"Hey... your hair's kind of... messy." Rob mentioned to him as he climbed out of the window.
"So? It's always like this..." He replied, pushing his feet out.
This was Buddy "Bud" Ashwalker. Bud and Rob, best friends to the first degree, have been waking up thirty minutes after the suggested time for getting to school everyday. Both sixteen, Bud and Rob have been living like this for two years. Bud's parents could be called filthy rich at the peak of their salaries, which is why their house, garage, and guest house were not standard living conditions. In their philosophy, Bud's parents believed that Rob was too mature for his previous living conditions, and thus giving him the pleasure of staying in their guest house, the only reason for Rob's residence being that he and Bud were close friends. But with this lavish gift came responsibility, as with all good things. Cleaning, cooking, shopping, maintaining, and hard work had been what Rob was charged with, though he saw no challenge in any of them.
Bud landed on the perfect grass below; his figure was enormous. Standing at six-foot-three and weighing approximately three hundred pounds, Bud towered over Rob's five-foot-five and one hundred and fifteen pound physique. Their physical structures were completely the opposite; Rob's shoulder were small and drawn in, while Bud's shoulders were straight and almost board-like. Even their clothes differed entirely, Bud wore loose denim jeans that sagged down to his thighs, he donned a red and black lumberjack's sweatshirt, and a black shirt with various illustrations beneath it. Rob wore denim jeans as well, but his were pulled to his waist and extremely snug around his lower half. His upper half only differed in size, a black faded concert T-Shirt clung to his body. Bud easily reached into the veiled darkness beyond the window and took his backpack by the strap, hauling it outside and onto one shoulder.
"Ready?" Rob sighed.