Last Paragraph You've Written


8/10 I think it was great, It’s probably not the beginning of your book but if it was I would continue reading, I would make like the 'What would I do?" part in italics because it’s like another layer of her cutting off her own thoughts. Otherwise I think it’s pretty good.

I have to remind myself as I wake up, that I’m no longer in a place where I have to fight in order to survive. That I’m safe; No one is going to jump out and attack me anytime soon. The Memories of when I hit 14 and it suddenly felt like everyone around me was gunning to take me out to pass the test is hard thing to stop being afraid of. I’m just lucky I managed to escape when I did. Otherwise, someone older and stronger would have easily murdered me and taken my charm.


8/10. Capturing enough, pretty good. I find myself eagerly wondering what circumstance your character in so you’ve done your job as a writer. And I also like that I can easily feel for this person in just one paragraph. You really made me sympathize with this person and their situation, whatever this situation is.

Whatever, Nevermind.

In Literature, I keep looking at Isabel across the room.

I want to tell her after class.

I want to pull her outside and break down in a pathetic ball of all the emotions I’ve been reining in all day. She’s Isabel. She’d understand. She’d sympathize with me and feel all my emotions like their her’s. She’d remind me that it’s perfectly–completely–okay for me to be feeling this way. She’d tell me that I am in no way, shape or form a maniac and I should stop making myself feel like one.

Then I see something in my peripheral vision and turn my head.



8/10. I can feel her worry through your writing, and that she did something wrong. There are a few grammatical errors, which made me loose the flow of the read. But overall, it seems like a good way to end the chapter. Also the cliffhanger in the end with the boy is good.

Loving Ivy’s Colorful Mind

My mind is back on Gabriel. My heart aching with every passing minute I don’t know about him. The torrent of thoughts invade me once again.

Is he alive? Is he hurt? How can he leave me behind? He wouldn’t leave me behind, would he? I would never forgive him! I would never forgive myself…

Liam becomes an afterthought in my mind.

Thus, I don’t notice when his hand finds its way back into mine. I don’t notice my death grip on it, my need to hold on to something tangible.

Liam is tangible.


9/10. I love how I could feel the different emotions going through her, and I especially love the way doubt crawls over right before her thoughts are jumbled up and he reappears again. The only thing, is that there are a couple words that made me a little confused on how he reappeared.

Chosen By Fate

The feeling that I felt, wasn’t the normal cold that I’ve grown used to here. No, it was nothing close to that. In fact, it made me feel warm and secure. I couldn’t put a name to it, but I’ve felt it before and now I couldn’t help the immense nostalgia that flooded me.

It was so strong that my body grew limp, and my muscles slackened as I leaned a hand against the alleyway wall. I could’ve fallen asleep from the steady, calm pounding of my heart, my awareness starting to glaze over and my easy breaths puffing up fog from my parted lips. I became so drowsy, that I almost missed the soft, glowing blue light that magically appeared in front of me.


9/10. I really like the detail and sense of mysteriousness.

@ACOMAFtrash12 Another Sarah J Mass fan! Yes! :grin:


He had built his own empire from scratch, started from rock bottom. An unwanted child from the streets, to one of the most prosperous people in the kingdom. Everything that was his now, he had worked for it. Everything; his wealth, his title, his home.

Though his climb to the elite was not guiltless. But then again, was anything not?

Every step he took was carefully planned and executed. Everything he did was a gamble, a game of lies and half truths. The farther he got, the more he had to lose.

The person who he was now was built, just like his success. Every bit of him was a mix of a mask and the real person. Ruthless but generous, uncaring but thoughtful, insane but sane. It didn’t matter which was a mask and which wasn’t, all that mattered was that he was just enough for this crazed world.

Everything he had was his, his and no one else’s. He had not inherited any money, he had not been given his title. He had worked for it, and he was not willing to share.


9/10 Gives great insight to both the characters feelings, accomplishments and past without being overboard.

An Open Heart and A Thousand Stories

I’m a Kardarmian, the ancient people of the shadows, literally. Kardarmian, originates from the word Kardama which means shadow truly fitting since we can control them.

Of course, that’s not the only thing we can do but that’s where our powers originated from and is even the weakest of us can do.

Once upon a time, Kardarmian’s were a powerful and strong race but our kindness got the better of us, eventually leading to our downfall. Now we hide waiting for the day, when we can live in peace free to be what we once were.

What happened you may ask? The Merayviran’s. We let them in as a sign of hospitably and they destroyed it, leaving us to pick up the falling pieces of our race, so we could fight another day.


7/10 it’s very well written with a few grammar mistakes and I am very interested to know what happens next.

" We should be somewhere else, soaking up the sun." I pouted, as Corbin removed the keys from the ignition, bottom lip out and arms crossed. If I had a choice between attending school and diving into a swimming pool of cold vomit. I’d tie my hair back, get in a bathing suit and dive right in amongst the chunky bits.


Ekghegehegeggeekk the description of the vomit and “chunky bits” makes me cringe. Which means you’ve done a good job description wise :nauseated_face: Also, I can very much relate to the characters’ hate of school.

It’s a work in progress I guess:

Bashful, I reached underneath my bed and brought back up a heart charm connected to a slightly rusted keychain. I gazed down at it, running my fingertips along it briefly before looking up at Aliah. His face inherited a gentle smile before he reached into his pocket to pull out the charm of his own, in the shape of a flame.


Sounds good. I liked the description of the chain being rusted, adds a visual in my head.

here is mine:

Turning around, I began to walk back to the bar where people would continue to dance, completely unaware of the man that had forced himself upon me and the blue-eyed boy that had saved me from disaster.


8.5/10, I love the hook that makes me want to know more!

Here’s mine:

“Fresh from the restraints of papers and tests and grades, kids of this town did not scare so easy. They braved the heat to enjoy the last moments of daylight, willing to relish this brief respite from the blazing temperatures of morning or afternoon. The few that stayed kicked a ball between them, shouting and laughing as they dodged and ran and fell. Others sprawled out on the curb, chatting amiably and licking icy treats. They remained blissfully, wonderfully oblivious to the true danger that lurked just beyond the farthest house on the hill.”


8/10 I loved your first sentence as I got the sense that the kids were on summer break. I began to wonder if these kids were actually kids or teenagers. I just wasn’t sure if summer had just started or was ending.

The Element of Life
I did everything in my power not to laugh. That honestly had to be the most ridiculous name that I ever heard. Getting closer to the dog, my fingers scratched his nose with a smile. “OK, Little Chi-Chi it is. You think he’s much of a swimmer?”

According to Jasmine, he could probably swim a few laps. Highly unlikely a three-legged dog could swim that much. Thankfully, we were less than a mile away from the pool as we ended up deciding to walk the rest of the way. My motorcycle was left at the stop sign at McPerry Street. Honestly, I was glad Jasmine was happy. I really liked her and wanted to be with her. If having a dog come along on our adventure kept her happy, so be it.


8/10 There’s nothing bad about the paragraph. I feel as if it comes in the middle of either a story/chapter, though, so I don’t really know what’s going on or it’s relevance. Which is fine, given that this is all I’ve read is this portion!

Really Truly, Reese

I replay that moment a lot. Cling to it like a lifeline, a reason, a why, a hope. But sometimes, I hold it away from me with two fingers, like a dirty sock and wish there’d been some warning signs. Like a trace of alcohol on his breath, or a lingering touch that had just a bit too much pressure. Anything.

But there wasn’t. There just wasn’t.


Chapter nine of Wild not Vicious by Kyla Schumacher:

I looked down at my skin. It’s turning grayer and grayer until its the color of stone. I feel heavy and sleepy. I feel like I’m being dragged down to the bottom of the earth- a core, a pit. My body feels a thud and I’m asleep. It’d be nice if I stayed like this forever, but I don’t have forever. I’m trapped, and I can’t get back out.


This is a paragraph from my slowly updating, upcoming work. It is mature and a fanfic… Although it’s about 96% fantasy/adventure.

With a sickening spurt of black mist and grotesque squelching sound the teen tucked his legs close to him, jamming his eyes shut to avoid looking at what he presumed was blood on his legs. His hissing punctuated by occasional groans and rapid intakes of breath. Out of the blue, the jester began to laugh and shout again, sounding gleeful, as if the piercing kick had never occurred. The, the hell?! I, I did that to him and he’s laughing. This isn’t real! Come on, wake up! The teen shouted at himself, pinching his exposed arm flesh harshly, having to grit his teeth, his jammed shut eyes widening out of curiosity and slight fear, releasing his skin out of pain. Oww, was, was that metal? A, am I a cyborg!? What happened to me!? His mental voice was panicked and high, the jester interjecting to spare the teen his fear. “Hehe. This body cannot be killed! I can do anything!” You’re insane. The teenager raised himself to his feet shakily, his mind and heart racing, his fragile legs almost giving out beneath his weight.

Now this paragraph requires some context as to why a potentially cybernetically enhanced teenager has now kicked a court jester through the chest. I also challenge anyone that reads this crap to guess which game this is based off. There’s cookies if you win


kind of avoided rating your excerpt on account of i can’t really find anything bad about it. if i wanted to be super nitpicky, i’d say replace the period between “a lot” and “cling” with a dash so it reads as follows:

“I replay that moment a lot—cling to it like a lifeline . . . “

i also think ”I hold it away from me” sounds better as ”I hold it away from myself.”

other than that, though, awesome excerpt. you do a great job of conveying the character’s emotions and frankly it’s just a nice excerpt to read, with good cadence and syntax and yeah good job :clap: 9/10

Daisy took a rock from the minimalist landscaping along the front walk, held it for a moment, and pitched it at the office window. She kept throwing them until, ghostly in the California sunshine, Blaise threw open the glass doors and stepped onto the catwalk. “I’ll phone the police!” he called down to her.

“They won’t help you, you damn commie!”

“I’m not a fucking communist!”

“Prove it, red!”

“I can’t—“ Blaise’s hands tightened around the railing, then he let go and flitted back inside, leaving the doors open. Daisy waited. A good two minutes later, breathless from the descent through the mansion, he reappeared on the front stoop. “I can’t prove—“ his chest heaved, “I can’t prove I’m not a communist. They made everything up.”


Nia slowly looked over, recognizing Casey’s voice before she even turned her head. She looked up at him, though, her vision a little fuzzy.

“Hello again,” Casey said, looking over at her as the bartender got his order. “You’re here sooner than I anticipated.”

“I’m drunk,” Nia pointed out.


Okay, I like how well you show Nia’s drunkenness with the subtle hint of her fuzzy vision. It seems like this would be a great conversation. I will advice against ‘looking’. It appeared a lot there. You can say she gazed up at him and he glanced at her. Mix it up to spice up your writing style. Aside from that, well done.

That’s mine below. Sorry about the length. It was the last thing I wrote.

“I’m not a trollop. He called me a waterbed! That’s all they see me as.” Other girls might not mind being told certain things about their figures. They might crave it, hunger for it every second of the day. Such words made me feel dirty, filthy. Was that all I was to them? I had a character, hobbies and dreams. Did all that mean nothing?

Liquid rose over my sight, painting everything with dancing, squiggly strokes. Marcus’s eyes met my wet ones and he guided my head to rest on his shoulder. Words and tears were as close as enemies when it came to Marc. His actions meant a lot more. Carmen had noticed the situation. She moved over to my open side, looping an arm around mine. Her cheek greeted my shoulder, soft breaths seeping through the holes in my sweater.

“You are beautiful.” He insisted.

Yes, he did think that. Still, I couldn’t shake off the fact that he hadn’t bothered to refute my statement. That is all they see me as. His fingers drifted into my hair and I relaxed, focusing on the soothing sensation. Having good friends was nice. At least, some people cared about me. Crinkly paper nudged my belly and I found the bag on my thighs. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt. Oh, but the fat would stick onto my sides. Still, the delicious scent drifted up to my nose. Smoothies are the healthier option. Don’t give in, Arlene. Fight the urge. My traitorous fingers sank into the popcorn despite my unresolved internal debate. Marcus snickered but didn’t say anything when I stuffed my cheeks with them. Don’t judge me. Stupid Jean had made me cry. I shovelled more popped kernels into my mouth at the thought of the fool. I needed comfort food.


Oops, I just noticed something. Sorry but I think you’re supposed to examine Ocanada’s post to make yours valid.


7/10 it’s very well written with a few grammar mistakes and I am very interested to know what happens next.

" We should be somewhere else, soaking up the sun." I pouted, as Corbin removed the keys from the ignition, bottom lip out and arms crossed. If I had a choice between attending school and diving into a swimming pool of cold vomit. I’d tie my hair back, get in a bathing suit and dive right in amongst the chunky bits.


I’ve noticed that you often just copy and paste the same response to every post on this topic, which really isn’t fair considering that people come here for real criticism and critiques after providing some themselves. So, I’m taking it upon myself to skip over you, and hopefully, this will deter you from continuing on with this behavior.

Now, @lordedarylene, I really liked this passage. I think its a topic that isn’t touched upon too often, and I think you did it well. I liked your imagery and word choice, and I can’t think of any way to offer up improvements except for some minor grammatical hiccups (I’m not sure hunger is the best word to use in that first paragraph, as it isn’t the right part of speech? But I understand that finding one that fits might be difficult. You could maybe try to change the words around it.) Other than that, great job!

Six Feet Under
“She’s nice,” I whispered to Roza as we followed her.

“I know.” She whispers back. “I like her.”

I raise an eyebrow. “As in…”

She smirks. “No. Not that way. You know she isn’t my type.”

I smile. “I don’t know what your type is anymore. You dated that girl Gwyn.”

“I wouldn’t call what she and I did dating .”

“What would you call it, then?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but I interrupted her.

“Nevermind. I’m thinking that maybe I don’t want to know?”

“I think you might be correct.”