Zedzy
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I am in the process of typing a short story, and wanted to upload it as I progress through making it. I would like any C&C you guys can offer, or suggestions of how I can write better.
Introduction:
It was another cool day near Stillwhisper Lake. The wind blew softly, pushing the water up the shore with a rhythmic “whoosh”. Small ripples came from the only wooden dock, on rhythm with the waves. Soft, tan-coloured sand stretched far across the shore. Smooth grass met the sand bear Zack’s comfortable little house.
The house was quite old compared to the other houses in Zack’s village. Brown, wooden shutters beat against the house while the wind blew. The trees swayed slowly, as the waves. There were a few flowers here and there around the small cobble path, leading up to a doorway lined with beautifully carved daffodils.
Inside, there was a roaring fireplace near the only two beds. Beside them, lay a few logs of wood, leftover from the harsh winter. Water was boiling on the small wood stove.
This was usual for Zack near lunch, His light brown hair hung over the pot, patiently waiting for his uncle Chasta to finish making lunch. He stared at the water with his cool blue eyes. Zack sat with very structured, with his sturdy, yet lean build, which was used to hard work.
He watched as his uncle Chasta was chopping vegetables. There were bright, orange carrots that seemed to shine from the thin layer of water covering it. Zack could also see bits of green celery, tree-like broccoli, and very few bits of smoked pork. As usual he was making stew. It seemed like that was all he ever made.
Zack’s uncle was happily mixing different spices into his concoction. Chasta was almost always jolly, with his large round belly bouncing, and his beard looking like it stole hair from his face, he made everybody else jolly too.
The only time that Zack remembered when his uncle Chasta wasn’t his jolly self, was when Zack’s father disappeared.
A couple of years ago, a convict escaped from the jail of a nearby village. His name was William Clyde. He was arrested for stealing, and attempted murder. The sheriff and most of his men chased him throughout the night. They ended up near the dock of Stillwhisper Lake. The convict jumped aboard a small boat at the dock, and tore the ropes from it. He proceeded to grab the ores and stared to paddle away.
Zack’s father, Joseph, joined the chase when they entered his village. William stole several items from Zack’s house, including a velvety black box, which his father cherished deeply.
When William started to paddle off, Joseph dove in after him. His strong muscles propelled him forward. His hard work as a farmer made him a large, and broad man. He skillfully swam after the thief into the night. From the on after, no one had ever seen him again.
I made the rising action :
Introduction:
Stillwhisper
Introduction
Introduction
It was another cool day near Stillwhisper Lake. The wind blew softly, pushing the water up the shore with a rhythmic “whoosh”. Small ripples came from the only wooden dock, on rhythm with the waves. Soft, tan-coloured sand stretched far across the shore. Smooth grass met the sand bear Zack’s comfortable little house.
The house was quite old compared to the other houses in Zack’s village. Brown, wooden shutters beat against the house while the wind blew. The trees swayed slowly, as the waves. There were a few flowers here and there around the small cobble path, leading up to a doorway lined with beautifully carved daffodils.
Inside, there was a roaring fireplace near the only two beds. Beside them, lay a few logs of wood, leftover from the harsh winter. Water was boiling on the small wood stove.
This was usual for Zack near lunch, His light brown hair hung over the pot, patiently waiting for his uncle Chasta to finish making lunch. He stared at the water with his cool blue eyes. Zack sat with very structured, with his sturdy, yet lean build, which was used to hard work.
He watched as his uncle Chasta was chopping vegetables. There were bright, orange carrots that seemed to shine from the thin layer of water covering it. Zack could also see bits of green celery, tree-like broccoli, and very few bits of smoked pork. As usual he was making stew. It seemed like that was all he ever made.
Zack’s uncle was happily mixing different spices into his concoction. Chasta was almost always jolly, with his large round belly bouncing, and his beard looking like it stole hair from his face, he made everybody else jolly too.
The only time that Zack remembered when his uncle Chasta wasn’t his jolly self, was when Zack’s father disappeared.
A couple of years ago, a convict escaped from the jail of a nearby village. His name was William Clyde. He was arrested for stealing, and attempted murder. The sheriff and most of his men chased him throughout the night. They ended up near the dock of Stillwhisper Lake. The convict jumped aboard a small boat at the dock, and tore the ropes from it. He proceeded to grab the ores and stared to paddle away.
Zack’s father, Joseph, joined the chase when they entered his village. William stole several items from Zack’s house, including a velvety black box, which his father cherished deeply.
When William started to paddle off, Joseph dove in after him. His strong muscles propelled him forward. His hard work as a farmer made him a large, and broad man. He skillfully swam after the thief into the night. From the on after, no one had ever seen him again.
I made the rising action :
It's not very good.
Still want to see it?
I'm warning you, it sucks bad .
Fine.
After lunch, Zack placed his plate beside the sink and headed for the door. Before he took two steps uncle Chasta put his hand on Zack’s shoulder, stopping him.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, just down to the lake with Ace.” remarked Zack.
“Fine, just remember to come home early today; you still have your chores to do.” Chasta said, as Zack was heading outside.
“Bye.” yelled Zack as he closed the door.
“Bye.” Chasta said to himself as he started to work on the dishes.
It was too cold to go swimming, so it was decided that they would play catch. They tossed the ball to each other, poking fun at themselves whenever they made a lousy throw or catch.
Ace’s dark hair flew through the air, as he would throw the ball. Ace’s hair was noticeably longer than Zack’s. Occasionally, he would flick his head
to the side to get his hair out of his eyes.
“Go long!” Zack said, as he started to jog backwards. “Farther!”
It wasn’t until he was near the start of the dock when Zack told him to stop. Zack was close to his house where he stopped. They were about 60 feet apart from each other.
Zack wound up, lined himself, and threw. It flew through the air towards Ace. Ace started to back up, the ball was rising higher and higher as Ace moved back. He stopped at the end of the dock, the ball gradually moving downward. Ace jumped.
The ball fell into the water with a splash. Zack ran up to Ace.
“Nice catch.” he said while staring at the bobbing ball.
“Nice throw.” Ace replied sarcastically.
The ball was moving farther and farther away from the dock.
“C’mon, go.” Ace urged.
“What?”
“Get the ball!”
“But you’re the one who didn’t catch it!”
“Well you’re the one who can’t throw!”
“Fine.” Zack said reluctantly as he got ready to dive in. But before he could have a second thought about it, ace pushed him in.
Zack spurted out water as he came to the surface.
“What was that for?”
“You gunna get the ball?”
Zack started swimming towards it. His clothes greatly reduced his speed, and the waves just added to the difficulty.
When he finally reached the ball it was bobbing up and down in the waves. Zack reached out to grab it just as it was bobbing down. He missed. The ball disappeared underneath the waves. Zack took a deep breath, and went under.
Farther and farther down he went. He kicked his legs quickly trying to get the most out of his breath. He just caught a glimpse of the ball before he had to go up, and take another breath.
“Did ya get it?” Ace said as Zack broke through the cold water.
“No.” he replied along with a mouthful of water.
Before Ace could say another word, Zack was back under. he kicked his legs as hard as he could. Finally, he reached the ball.
He looked up into the murky water, and pushed off from the bottom of the lake. But before he could react, he smashed hid head against a rock overhang.
* * * * *
When he finally came to, he was in a strange place. It seemed like an underground cave. The walls were all smooth. Along the walls there were faintly glowing crystals, which radiated a soft blue glow. These crystals were the only source of light in the cave.
Zack, dizzy from the injury, slowly made his way further into the cave looking for a dry spot to rest. As he got out of the water the tip of his shoe rattled something. As he looked down, beside his foot lay a skeleton.
Zack, terrified, ran far into the cave. He started to pant, not from being tired, but rather, because of fear.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the shadows. It grabbed him, not bothering to cover his mouth, no one would hear.
“Let go of me!” Zack yelled.
He felt a hand hit him across the face. As he looked up he saw a face that he had never forgotten. The same face he saw when there was a break in at his house. He knew who it was instantly, William Clyde.
William bound Zack by his wrists, and led him farther into the cave. Whenever Zack fell a little behind William gave him a hard kick with the solid tip of his shoe. This went on for a while, until they came to a chamber filled with many crates and boxes. They were filled with an assortment of stolen goods, from (it would seem) places at least five or ten villages over. There were boxes overflowing with jewelry, crates half-full of whisky, food, even suits in some places.
Zack rested against the cave wall, aching, mostly concentrated on the top of his head.
William Clyde was munching on a piece of stale bread on the other side of a few boxes, taking a swig of whisky between each bite.
It was then that Zack noticed something familiar, the black box! It was within arms reach, but his bound hands made it difficult to make it unnoticeable. Zack tried desperately to free his hands, with no avail. He needed something to cut it. The crystals!
Zack positioned himself in front of a on of the crystals. He lined up the rope with it, and pushed it. The crystal started to puncture a hole, but broke off partway. Again he searched for a crystal, one much bigger than the last one. When he found one, he positioned himself with it, but this time, he would try to saw at the rope. It had to do this by scraping it across the rope. As he did this, the crystal would jab into his writs if he mistakenly went too low, or high. Eventually, he got a consistent motion going. This was a slow process, but eventually, he broke free.
Rising Action
After lunch, Zack placed his plate beside the sink and headed for the door. Before he took two steps uncle Chasta put his hand on Zack’s shoulder, stopping him.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, just down to the lake with Ace.” remarked Zack.
“Fine, just remember to come home early today; you still have your chores to do.” Chasta said, as Zack was heading outside.
“Bye.” yelled Zack as he closed the door.
“Bye.” Chasta said to himself as he started to work on the dishes.
It was too cold to go swimming, so it was decided that they would play catch. They tossed the ball to each other, poking fun at themselves whenever they made a lousy throw or catch.
Ace’s dark hair flew through the air, as he would throw the ball. Ace’s hair was noticeably longer than Zack’s. Occasionally, he would flick his head
to the side to get his hair out of his eyes.
“Go long!” Zack said, as he started to jog backwards. “Farther!”
It wasn’t until he was near the start of the dock when Zack told him to stop. Zack was close to his house where he stopped. They were about 60 feet apart from each other.
Zack wound up, lined himself, and threw. It flew through the air towards Ace. Ace started to back up, the ball was rising higher and higher as Ace moved back. He stopped at the end of the dock, the ball gradually moving downward. Ace jumped.
The ball fell into the water with a splash. Zack ran up to Ace.
“Nice catch.” he said while staring at the bobbing ball.
“Nice throw.” Ace replied sarcastically.
The ball was moving farther and farther away from the dock.
“C’mon, go.” Ace urged.
“What?”
“Get the ball!”
“But you’re the one who didn’t catch it!”
“Well you’re the one who can’t throw!”
“Fine.” Zack said reluctantly as he got ready to dive in. But before he could have a second thought about it, ace pushed him in.
Zack spurted out water as he came to the surface.
“What was that for?”
“You gunna get the ball?”
Zack started swimming towards it. His clothes greatly reduced his speed, and the waves just added to the difficulty.
When he finally reached the ball it was bobbing up and down in the waves. Zack reached out to grab it just as it was bobbing down. He missed. The ball disappeared underneath the waves. Zack took a deep breath, and went under.
Farther and farther down he went. He kicked his legs quickly trying to get the most out of his breath. He just caught a glimpse of the ball before he had to go up, and take another breath.
“Did ya get it?” Ace said as Zack broke through the cold water.
“No.” he replied along with a mouthful of water.
Before Ace could say another word, Zack was back under. he kicked his legs as hard as he could. Finally, he reached the ball.
He looked up into the murky water, and pushed off from the bottom of the lake. But before he could react, he smashed hid head against a rock overhang.
* * * * *
When he finally came to, he was in a strange place. It seemed like an underground cave. The walls were all smooth. Along the walls there were faintly glowing crystals, which radiated a soft blue glow. These crystals were the only source of light in the cave.
Zack, dizzy from the injury, slowly made his way further into the cave looking for a dry spot to rest. As he got out of the water the tip of his shoe rattled something. As he looked down, beside his foot lay a skeleton.
Zack, terrified, ran far into the cave. He started to pant, not from being tired, but rather, because of fear.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the shadows. It grabbed him, not bothering to cover his mouth, no one would hear.
“Let go of me!” Zack yelled.
He felt a hand hit him across the face. As he looked up he saw a face that he had never forgotten. The same face he saw when there was a break in at his house. He knew who it was instantly, William Clyde.
William bound Zack by his wrists, and led him farther into the cave. Whenever Zack fell a little behind William gave him a hard kick with the solid tip of his shoe. This went on for a while, until they came to a chamber filled with many crates and boxes. They were filled with an assortment of stolen goods, from (it would seem) places at least five or ten villages over. There were boxes overflowing with jewelry, crates half-full of whisky, food, even suits in some places.
Zack rested against the cave wall, aching, mostly concentrated on the top of his head.
William Clyde was munching on a piece of stale bread on the other side of a few boxes, taking a swig of whisky between each bite.
It was then that Zack noticed something familiar, the black box! It was within arms reach, but his bound hands made it difficult to make it unnoticeable. Zack tried desperately to free his hands, with no avail. He needed something to cut it. The crystals!
Zack positioned himself in front of a on of the crystals. He lined up the rope with it, and pushed it. The crystal started to puncture a hole, but broke off partway. Again he searched for a crystal, one much bigger than the last one. When he found one, he positioned himself with it, but this time, he would try to saw at the rope. It had to do this by scraping it across the rope. As he did this, the crystal would jab into his writs if he mistakenly went too low, or high. Eventually, he got a consistent motion going. This was a slow process, but eventually, he broke free.