What was the last few paragraphs you wrote?


This can be a place where we can give feedback on newer written paragraphs! :slight_smile:

What have you done?

Mine would be:

We wrapped her up in black trash bags and placed her body outside. Probably not the best idea, but it’d help get rid of the rotting corpse smell in the house. Maybe.
I cleaned the blood and grabbed a box full of food for the kitchen, which was what Paris was meant to do. Since she never made it and everyone was too traumatized to go down to the basement, it was up to me and my already numb-and-emotionless state.
Of course, breaking down and crying popped into my head almost always, but I couldn’t be like everyone else. Not now anyway. Instead, I needed to be strong and hold myself together, tighter than usual.
The living room was, yet again, filled with the gang, drinking coffee and alcohol, staring out into space. Silent. All zombie-like. Thankfully, they didn’t see the body. Her body. I was sure that if anyone else saw another dead body, we’d all go crazy.
Had we already?


Awesome, going to try this out.

First things first: I’m liking it so far. Normally some people question switching perspectives, although in this context it seems to make sense. The idea of a murder mystery sounds interesting. Although if we already know who the murderer is, does that make it a “how catch em.”

Here is mine:

She had moved into her apartment on the thirteenth of July, having to fix her virtual reality goggles. For a long time she relied on her mother, to provide her with the velcrow to fix the frame.
At Starbucks she would play a fantasy virtual reality game, and recently she had expanded her interests back into tales of medival fantasy fighting dragons. But the reality was, this was about the only kind of game she was into. It was an interest that she had posessed for a long time, but got out of it when Square Enix promoted a Final Fantasy remake that had not yet existed, and now that they started finally made it, she had a certain level of apathy that was unmatched by other among her peers. She had developed a text based graphical adventure similar to rogue, but she put her own spin on it.


In my opinion, the first paragraph and second do not connect well. It jumps from fixing the character’s virtual reality googles (intriguing btw) to reminiscing about playing at Starbucks and the games she likes.


I swore. How am I going to afford double what I paid last time? I don’t have a grand casually laying around my apartment or stashed away in a secret off shore bank account. I have twenty-nine dollars and forty-two cents in my actual bank account. If I look hard, I might have a couple dollars in change between the couch cushions. It won’t be enough.

“If you’d rather not, Mr. Memphis . . .” she trails off.

I shake my head. “The same arrangement as last time?”

“Three days, Theodore,” she agrees; the line goes dead.

I sigh, throwing the card back into it’s hidey-hole.

I have three days to come up with a thousand dollars if I want the hedge witches help.


Yeah. xD But this one is a mixture of both. Kind of like Clue (both the board game and movie), my characters are trying to figure out who it is, and then they try to figure out how to catch them. :wink:

I think the majority of it is fine, it’s just that (like Autumn_Breeze said) it doesn’t connect. Let me try to break it down:

What does having to move into an apartment deal with fixing goggles? Or vice-versa?

Wait… what happened to fixing the goggles?

It went to moving into her apartment, fixing goggles, then talking about a video game. So it seems kind of funky. Perhaps, talk about fixing the goggles at Starbucks, then add some narration of flashbacks of playing the video games there?


That’s a pretty good excerpt! I don’t have anything to say about it.

P.S: that sucks that she has to come up with a thousand dollars! :scream:

I hadn’t thought of it that way. Was she right? Was I numb? Did my past suddenly catch up to me and now I couldn’t feel the agonizing pain of grief anymore? “And what about you?”
“I’m also numb.” Freyja cleared her throat and said, “But isn’t weird? The deaths seemed like an accident, but they just can’t be, right?”
This was where I had to step in. “I agree. It is very strange, considering the evidence that is shown. I mean, it’s unlike Kirsty to be taking drugs—”
“And what was that bear trap doing right there next to the stairs?”
“It’s too good to be true,” I said, shaking my head. “So what do we do?


Personally- I like it; I just feel like you need to put more of the main characters emotions in there- Feels a little cold?

My hands moved up quickly to my throat trying to pry the hands off, only to feel more water filling my throat and mouth and the nails sink into my skin of my neck latching on harder.

“Oh hello Lava. Did you miss me?” A voice hissed in my ear, the breath sending a shiver of fear down my spine.

It only took seconds for me to identify my twin sister.

My family was falling apart, my team was dying.

But at this moment, even though I was drowning from the hands of my sister, all I could feel was how weak I was, how I had no options. I can’t kill my sisters.

I can’t kill my family.


Wow that’s actually pretty cool! I like how it ended. The conflict between what is right and wrong versus your personal attachment was well bought out.

Macy watched on in awe from the couch as Aasina turned and went to the bedroom, shaking her hips while she walked. Macy felt a sense of happiness and mirth that she had never felt before blossom in her chest as she took in Aasina’s retreating figure.

As she got up and went after her into the bedroom Macy couldn’t help but feel something deep, something that she hadn’t felt for anyone before, something resembling love.

Her lips curled into a warm and loving smile at her realization.

She was about to open the door to the bedroom when she noticed a broken phone lying next to the door.

Once she realized who’s phone it was, her smile turned into a sour melancholic flavor. Nothing was perfect in the end after all.


It’s interesting. I’m not entirely sure what’s really going on, but the ending was definitely a way to bring in a little bit of shock.

This is from my unedited ongoing WIP at the moment so please forgive any grammar errors.

He waved and walked off, disappearing without a trace into the crowds, leaving Dash sitting there. She slowly got up and looked for her chair, still breathing hard. She needed to get back to her room now before anyone else saw her face or noticed her there.

She spotted the chair and quickly sloshed out of the pool, heading straight for the chair to gather her belongings, her body tense as she let her eyes dart around warily.

So much for relaxing.


In a tall mahogany chair, there sat a woman short of stature, who wore her tight curls in a loose bun. Her arms rested upon a table, spreading apart only a few inches in a slow, agonizing manner. It was as if the structure of time was beyond repair, little pieces of fragments scattered across the floor. It had taken a full minute until her head fully rested between the palms of her hand and her nails dug into her cheeks, forcing her eyes to widen. Even with the anomalies around her – books covered in gold that flew around the table; gravy boats drooling onto plates of beef, tender enough to pull apart by gently dragging your fork across – it wasn’t enough and her company, who cocked in his head as he stared at the bored woman, leaned over the table to pat her head.

She closed her eyes and sighed as he pursed his lips. “You will never be happy like this, child.” He leaned back into his chair and clasped his fingers together, wearing only a thinly stretched across his face, never meeting his eyes. “Your guilt will consume you, swallowing every bit of happiness you have and leave only an empty shell that worries over the things they do, shaking at the thought of making the same mistakes again.”

“This isn’t what we came here to discuss,” she dismissed him, raising her cup into the air as teapot flew in and refilled it. She gave it a small wave as a way of saying thank you and took only a sip before resting it near her hand.

He nodded in agreement. “You’re right, but it needed to be said.”


Komazzi picked up the knife and examined it closely. The emblem looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He hastily stuck the knife into an empty holster on his belt and wrapped a protective arm around Rose’s trembling shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I just want to go home,” Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked tears from her eyes. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. Her mind was in too much shock to process exactly what happened, she just needed someone to hold her. She leaned against Komazzi as they made their way into the meadow, and for the first time in months, she felt peace settle over her.


The first paragraph feels a bit too loaded for me to form a clear picture, particulary as things like ‘tight curls in a lose bun’ distract me from the image of an old lady sitting in a really big chair tracing circles with her thumbs on the tabletop.

The same thing happens when you describe the other guy’s reaction, the sentence is so complicated, that I think you missed the word ‘smile’ or ‘scowl’ maybe that is stretching…

I feel maybe it would be nice if you dial back the descriptions a little in favor of a more focused image.

The petals showered him as the group of faeries floated towards the throne, the highest in their hierarchy, the Serene Mothers. A small blue flower landed on the floor in front of him bringing to mind… bringing to mind… his heart thumped heavily against his rib cage. He squinted sideways, already suspecting whom he was going to see.

Sayewa acknowledge him with a small smile then turned her gaze back to the new Emperor. She is out of seclusion, Xi thought, his being filling with just the kind of heavenly joy that the ceremony hoped to spring in the people’s hearts.


For the first sentence possibly try rephrasing it to: Petals showered over him as the group of faeries floated towards the throne; they are the Serene Mothers who sit atop the hierarchy.

‘squinted sideways’ doesn’t create a clear visual. Maybe just try cutting out the word sideways.

Maybe it’s supposed to be ‘she acknowledges him’

Also maybe consider putting the character Xi’s thoughts in italics just to separate it from the inner ramblings so it’s a distinct direct thought (if that makes sense).

Overall this is a wonderful excerpt and you have a amazing way of making the paragraphs flow.

Not an hour later my emergency room is flooded with Osirii donning royal guard garbs and escorting Shaya, Prince Zedan’s twenty year old sister. She is laid out on a gurney, concealed by a light blanket and unconscious with bloody spittle dripping from her lips. In the private wing I get to strip back the blanket in the presence of two nurses and a resident.

“Holy shit.” The resident ignores my short glower.

Holy shit indeed. Shaya’s left arm is ripped clean off, blood pooling on the gurney and beginning to drip down the bed’s leg. With anaesthesia in her system already I can hastily apply bulky pressure dressings to her gaping shoulder before rolling her into surgery.


Oh, yeah, it’s in italics, it just did not get copied over, and oops, about the typo :slight_smile: should be ‘acknowledged’, it is all in the past tense.

I am wondering what is wrong with ‘petals showered him’?


Oh okay then my bad.

I guess because the sentence doesn’t roll off the tongue and I’ve never seen it used that way. Its as if you’re saying the petals is an entity that showered him with something else but you don’t say what ‘something else’ is. I’m sorry I can’t explain anything decently. You can say ‘showered down on him’.


Oh, I see, I guess I was trying to avoid the passive of ‘he was showered with petals’ too hard :slight_smile: thank you.


Thank you! I need to make her a lot younger, though. She’s supposed to be in her early twenties. In the first book, she’s sixteen and runs off for five years, which stops at this one. This was the first paragraph of the last instalment; I’m writing it first. It’s so hard to write an opening paragraph… I don’t know how it should start, but I know it should start with this meeting. :see_no_evil:


My impression that she is old comes from her addressing the man as a ‘child’ and the slow movement of her hands.


Ooh, I really like this! Without knowing anything else, it’s really mysterious, but not too confusing!
I love how you don’t over-use tags, but it’s clear who talks when and what kind of attitude Mr. Memphis has.
One thing - in school, I’ve been taught to avoid using ‘I’ at the beginning of a sentence, and you did that quite a lot. Maybe I only realised because I’ve been taught, but maybe you could change that (‘I swore’ - ‘I don’t’ - ‘I have’ - ‘I shake’ - ‘I sigh’ - ‘I have’).


My last written paragraphs are as follows below… (it’s obviously from a romance) :joy:

Settling back down on the sofa, it wasn’t long until I was fast asleep. Stirring briefly as I felt Charlotte cover me with the white fur blanket, I sensed her kissing my head and turning off the lamp.

“Night night Abi, love you loads,” she whispered as she left the room.

In the warmth of the dream that followed I heard those words again, but this time I was laying on a blanket by a river, and the words were falling from Noah’s beautiful lips as he moved in to kiss me with them.

The next morning, the shriek of the buzzer startled me from the comfort of my dream.

Charlotte flew down the stairs before I could even sit up, and returned clutching a huge bouquet of pink flowers in her arms.

“Think these are for you,” she smiled, setting the stunning arrangement down on the coffee table in front of me.

The small signpost sticking out of the bouquet read Tanelagib: Rose Abigaile . As I slowly opened the card attached, I couldn’t stop the tears that fell instantly from my eyes.

‘I should have been there to protect you. I will never stop being sorry. N.’


Nice descriptions! In my opinion, a lot of time has passed very quickly between these paragraphs which makes it feel a little rushed.

The last paragraphs I wrote are from The Hunt:

I shook my head. “Not tomorrow. If I keep heading out, my mother will get suspicious. Meet me on Wednesday by the oak tree. Sunset.”

“Wednesday, sunset. See you then, Shields.” He gave me a small wave, shuffling on his coat and backpack before disappearing into the aisles of books.

I didn’t waste a minute, searching my jacket pocket to find my phone. I couldn’t help but sigh as I looked through the contacts, stopping when I came to Mace and clicking the call button. My blade throbbed against my hip where my belt held it in place, hidden by my jacket.

“Mace?” I asked when he picked up. “How fast can you get into town?”