Darius Blood: Introduction

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Ah, slow down now, Blair. There's no need to apologize so much. I get the feeling Chris likes doing some critiquing here and there anyway, otherwise he probably wouldn't bother. It does take time, which is why I couldn't finish what I started myself earlier. I don't know about Chris, but I thought it might be best just to try to show you what you need to look for yourself, rather than correcting everything.

To answer your questions, these are things I'm still learning myself and I struggle with them every day. I received a critique this morning on AW where the poster felt the narrative of my first chapter was "too detached" and didn't have "enough emotion." This is why I said that writing is the easy part.

There are others here who might give you a better idea of what you need to do, but I'll give it a shot.

I dunno either Mr. Michael. :)

I'm currently writing the first part of the story and I have some questions that I wish to ask you:

1. should I start immediately on describing the main characters basic profile(like describing how he lives, his parents, his bestfriend) or should I start with a scene that emphasizes on the characters feelings like this:

"I really wished it was still summer. I never really liked Highschool anyway, not the kind of way it runs here, and if not for my parents and for my bestfriend Kyrie, I would've ditched it completely. Kyrie was and the only friend I had since kindergarten. She was also the only girl that wasn't "allergic" to my "loser virus". most seniors in my school, well, are jerks; especially Terry Bode and his good - for - nothing gang of misfits and bullies. It puzzles me sometimes: why would girls prefer guys who look stupid, act stupid and ARE really stupid?

I suppose it's best to start with the more emotional scene. Personally, I like the way you began with this paragraph. It drew me in effectively and I felt like I'd want to learn more about this character, but let me show you how you could at least improve the writing (if not the storytelling):

I wished it was still summer. I never liked high school anyway, not the way it was here. If not for my parents and my bestfriend Kyrie, I would have ditched it long ago. Kyrie was the only friend I had since kindergarten - and the only girl I knew who was immune to my "loser virus". Most seniors in my school ... well, they were jerks - especially Terry Bode and his good-for-nothing gang of bullies.

It puzzles me sometimes. Why would girls prefer guys who look stupid, act stupid and really ARE stupid?

This isn't the best edit, but I hope it helps you to see how you might start to clean up your work a bit.

I don't like following a comma with "well." That may just be personal taste, though.

Also, we often use the single dashes with spaces around them ( - ) in the forum posts to represent the double double dash (with no spaces), because they tend to get broken if they're at the end of line. In "good-for-nothing" you don't need the spaces, nor will you need them in the original word processing document (where the double dash is the correct form and the program should automatically format it into a single long dash).

Semi-colons are used to separate two connected ideas that would be complete sentences on their own. You have the connection, but "especially Terry Bode and his good-for-nothing gang of misfits and bullies" is a fragment that could not stand on its own.

I didn't like the use of the colon in the last sentence, either. Again, that may be personal taste, but I thought it worked better as two separate sentences.

You're also still slipping between past and present tense. You'll need to watch that; however, it's probably best to write first, then go back later to look for these errors (some of which occur even in the most seasoned writer's work).

There are other things that I marked in red in your original paragraph. Look at them, compare it to the way I rewrote it, think about what they mean and what you need to do to improve your own writing.

EDIT: Sorry, nevermind. I think past tense is the convention either way, right?

2.If you where me, How would you try to describe Jake?

I probably wouldn't, except for a few cues here and there (especially since it's written from Jake's POV) - which may be something on which I need to work. As I said, I'm still struggling with a lot of this myself, and I've been writing most of my life (I started around 12 or 13 and I'm 42 now).
 
I'm sorry mr. chrispenycate. I hope you are not mad at me for that request. I know Im bothering and taking some of your precious time and I'm very sorry for that. I know you got a lot of things to worry yourself about.... Im really sorry...

dont worry I'll never ditch my english class again and I'll never ever forget proper sentence construction and tenses.

Hey, nobody twists my arm to critique I have actually upset one or two by shooting holes in their grammar rather than what they considered important.

But grammar is something I can do, whilst style and pace I'm not that hot on; so if I can help somebody there, so much the better.
 
to tell you guys the truth, I really like the way you two, Mr. Michael01 and Mr. Chrispenycate, critique because I learn so much from all those corrections and suggestions that you gave.
I don't know about the others, but I admit to myself that I'm not a very good storywriter yet and the reason why I joined this forum is to find and befriend people who are BETTER from me, learn from what they have to share, and apply it to myself so that i could become, not only a better writer, but a better person.
I asked for an apology to Mr. Chrispenycate last time because I thought that I am taking to much of his time just to critique my work and, probably, I'm bothering him so much.
As I have said earlier to mr. MICHAEL01, I'm not talented in the arts and rules of writing in English. what I have in me is simply my imagination and the will to learn from people who are willing to impart to me the skill and knowledge that they have :)
 
Hehheh. I'm the type that doesn't believe in "talent" anyway. I believe in skills that we learn as we grow, which means it's at least possible for anyone to learn them (but doesn't mean they will).

I think learning to write is a lot like learning foreign languages: The best time to learn them is when you're young. I've heard the argument that some people spend their entire lives learning but still never write a good story. I don't believe it. If a person develops an aptitude for writing when they're young and keep working on it, sooner or later they'll get it right.
 
Ok so I have made the necessary corrections on the introduction and had proceeded with the first part of chapter one. Thanks to mr.Michael01 and Chrispenycate for their corrections..

INTRODUCTION:

HER LAST WHISPER...

"Jake... dont... leave.... me...."

This were the last words she whispered into my ear before blood sputtered out of her mouth and the last puff of breath left her cold, blood drenched body. In not more than a minute, Kyrie, my beloved Kyrie,the one that has meant to me than anyone in this world including myself, that I was ready to give up my life fighting a hundred vampires to protect, is now a lifeless, cold mannequin lying in my arms.

At that moment, time stopped its unending flow. Everything seemed to fade to nothingness; the noise, the sight of death and destruction, the torn pillars and devastated walls... everything except the lifeless, cold body of my Kyrie and the sight of crimson blood splattered all over her chest and dripping from her lips. Her deep blue eyes show no signs of fear or terror or desire to live... instead, it is filled with sadness, deep sadness of being unable to fulfill a promise to someone whom you cherished. Her heart had stopped beating and her throbbing nerves and veins had ceased to function. Reality struck like bitter lightning into the very depths of my soul, striking me with the awful truth that, try as I might to ignore, it had already set its place... My Kyrie is gone... forever....

“NOOOO!” I shouted at the top of my lungs as angry tears, tears of hate and misery, of despair and sorrow swelled upon my very eyes and into the darkest depths of my soul. Why, I asked myself as I carried her lifeless body from the ground, did she have to die? Why had she sacrificed herself and taken that blow? Why, even with this ungodly power I possess, had I been unable to protect and save her from the clutches of death? “WHYYY!” I shouted once again, a failing battle cry of a warrior who had failed on something that had been precious to him more than life itself. I failed the one I really wished to save...

“You are weak monsieur Alcain! Too weak too even save your beloved Kyrie from death itself!”, said a sinister, mocking voice behind me. “I despise you!”, It shouted cruelly, “Your weakness has proven you worthless for such things as love, Daywalker, you are only fit to die! Just like that poor girl in your arms!”

Saying this mockery, my adversary laughed, a mocking laughter far colder than the blade of the sword he carries;piercing through the inner depths of my existence. It was my fault, I was too weak and loving; too compassionate and caring that I cant get myself to kill in order to protect those dear to me. I was too late... too late for regrets... to late to change the inevitable...


“YOU CAN'T ALWAYS CHOOSE BOTH SIDES A. REMEMBER THAT OR REGRET LATER”

Amelia said that to me once... back at the manor... I was a fool to have ignored her words....

Wiping the tears in my eyes, I walked a little distance away from where I was and settled Kyrie's body on the foot of a shattered, torn column. As I placed her body to her final resting place, I closed her eyes and whispered to her, “I am sorry. Please... forgive me... Kyrie....”With this final words, I turned back from her, facing the monster that had taken her life, taken everything and everyone that had meant all the world to me: dad.... Mom.... and ... Kyrie....

Without another word, I took DarkHunter from its holster on my waist and rushed, at fullspeed towards the dark abomination in front of me; my eyes bearing the color of blood that shall flow to the earth any moment from now on. I swear.. I wont rest... I shall kill him....




CHAPTER ONE: BIRTHDAYS AND PRESENTS


Today... 31st of August...


It's my Birthday.
Great....
Dad's gonna buy old John Bucko's ancient truck for my present.
Nice....
I'm gonna drive to school tomorrow looking like a farm boy on his first day as a senior.
Terrific.... It's gonna be one heck of a ride...


As I was sitting my ass off the corner of my room, listening to a rock song and bullying my mind of all the insults that I would get as I drive to school tomorrow on a rusty, old farm pick up, I can't help wishing it was still summer. I never really liked high school anyway, not the kind of way it runs down here at Easton, and if not for the fact that one needs to finish high school in order to proceed to college, I think I would've ditched it completely. Truth is, I really hate this place and everything there was to it: the weather, the people, the fat lady on the other side of the street, our house... everything. I wish I could move back time, back to last summer where I was having so much fun riding the waves on that nice beach together with the person I've ever cared in my life...
...KYRIE...
And speaking of her, I find myself staring into a corner of the wall full of photographs and memories of our childhood, Mine and hers. I smiled, thinking of her and those memorable moments captured and placed on those tiny squares hanging on that space of the wall. There's that picture on the far left of a small boy, me, dirty and crying on a sandbox by the park and a cute girl ,her, taking a little, red handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and was on the verge of wiping the sand of that boy's face. It was 14 years before.... the day I met the best and only friend I ever had...
...KYRIE...
I didn't have much luck at making friends, especially among the girls. You see, I have this “curse” in me that boys my age call as “the loser virus” and most of them , especially the girls, are allergic to it – all except Kyrie. I don't know why, but she seems to be the only person in school that isn't allergic to it. Most seniors in Easton, well, are jerks; especially Terry Bode and his good – for - nothing bunch of thugs and misfits. There is also that stupid “queen of the cheerleaders”, Jacqueline Crosby, whose egocentricity matches equally with her stupid brain. She thinks she is the “prettiest, most adorable senior” in the campus when in fact, most of us are wondering if she's got enough I.Q. To operate a washing machine. If not for these two “jerks”, my life as a student would've been fine... but, as that saying goes, “you cannot have every good thing in life”. Still I am glad that I had Kyrie...

Knock,Knock!”

A sharp, tapping noise on the door returned my thoughts to reality. Annoyed by the disturbance to what had been a nice daydream, I unwillingly stood up and went for the door. Only two people could be so untimely in my entire life. Sighing I unlocked the door and, not to my surprise, It was those two standing in front of the door with a birthday cake at hand...
“MOM?... DAD?... whats going...?” I was unable to finish the question.
“HAPPY 18 BIRTHDAY!” the two of them greeted in an enthusiastically gleeful voice. I can't help myself grinning at this act, the same greeting every birthday with only the numbers changing year after year. I almost forgot... there where three people in this world that I cared about...
Mom ... Dad ... and Kyrie ...
(to be continued...)
 
Blair,
Fair play to you for the work you are putting in. Like you I am new to this but there does appear to be some lovely people here all willing to help.
I would suggest that you might like to take a break from the story itself and do a couple of profiles for your main characters. I agree with the early comments about making your main character beleivable and give the reader an opportunity to empathise with his/her flaws. Once you have developed a truly 3 dimensional character it will stay in your mind as you write the story anyway. Beleive me it will become real.
Enjoy the experience.
All the best.

Adyc
 
Darius Blood: second part of chapter one

(continuation of the former chapter...)

“I told your mother that you are too old for this.” Dad said apologetically. “but she insisted upon it anyway so, here we are.” He added with a meaningful wink.

“Ignore your father, Jakey, he's just acting manly in front of his boy.” Mom replied, her eyebrows raising.

“But Sarah, Jake's no longer a child. He's...”

“Not an adult yet, Arthur, you of all people should...”

“Ahem!” I cleared my throat to get their attention. The last thing I wanted to happen on my birthday is a silly argument between both of them. “Why don't you guys wait for me in the kitchen and we could have breakfast together.” I suggested sheepishly.

“Alright. Ill cook the bacon.” Mom said with a sigh as she went towards the stairs leading down the kitchen. “Just hurry up and get dressed Jakey.” She added as she moved downstairs. Dear old mom, I said to myself, always treats me like a grade school brat.

“So.” Dad broke me off from my thoughts. “Excited to become a man, lad?” Dad asked with a wide grin spreading all over his face. I know he's happy that I'm now of age but there's something on that grin that makes me shiver with anxiety.

“Sssure..” I stuttered, unsure of what to say. “I'm looking forward to it... dad.” I answered, asking myself if I had said the right thing.
“That's my son! Jake your going to make your dad proud of you!” He said excitedly as he slapped me on the shoulder that almost knocked me to the wall. I've never seen him like this since he got his fat Christmas bonus from his client down the firm. He sure is excited to make a man out of his son.

“Arthur, could you handle the garbage down here! It's getting out of hand again!” Mom called out, followed with a sizzling noise of heated frying oil and the delightful scent of sausages and bacon filling the air.
“I'm coming, honey! Just a sec..” My dad called out to her, hurrying, like an obedient lap dog, towards the direction of the kitchen. Dad could talk and act like a real man and he's never afraid to face anyone – except Mom. Dear old dad, I thought,smirking to myself, as I closed the door of my room, He sure is the “man of this house.”

I went to the bathroom and started heating up the shower. As I waited for the tub to fill itself with warm water, I stared upon my image on the bathroom mirror. Six feet and two inches tall, fair complexion, skinny with jet black hair and fair brown eyes. I began to admire myself and did lot's of “model poses” in front of the mirror. I never realized that I had changed so much from the crying, accident-prone boy of yesterday. What I see in the mirror is somebody else - an evolved form of Jake. Humming a tune from a popular song, “Decode”, I undressed, proceeded inside the tub and began bathing myself on the stimulating, warm bath. I'm a man now, I said to myself as I lathed my hair with shampoo, I should be able to find a girlfriend this year. But Terry Bode made it sure that girls won't ever talk to “Loser Jake”. In fact every time I tried to get a girl's attention, that thug would show up and humiliate me in front of everyone. I shook myself out of this dark thought; thinking of Terry Bode and his “atrocities” makes me sick. “That won't happen this year.” I said to myself, determined to reach my goal. “I'm gonna find myself a girlfriend and nobody, not even dumb Terry, could stop me.” I hope so.

After three minutes of bathing, drying and dressing myself, I was ready. I went out of my room and made my way towards the kitchen. The aroma of hot, juicy sausages and and fat dripping bacon was too powerful to ignore. I began to feel hungry as I went downstairs toward the kitchen table.

“There you are, Jakey, what took you so long?” Mom said as I walked across the table towards my seat. “I was afraid the sausages would be long cold before you get here.” She added as she washed the frying pan on the kitchen sink. Mom's a “clean freak”. She gets easily annoyed of unwashed plates and frying pans, and in dad's case, unwashed coffee mugs and improperly disposed cigarette butts.

Dad was already on the kitchen table,a mug of classic brewed, coffee in front of him and a crisp, fresh newspaper on his hands. He smiled at me, as I sat down opposite him, and said, “Jake, I would like you to join me down at old John Bucko's ranch after breakfast. I've got something to show to you.” He said as he flipped the pages to the business section. I was pretty sure what that manic grin on his face was all about.

(to be continued...)
 
Blair,
Firstly, you need to read what you have written before you put it out there, most of the comments that will be made would be obvious to you before others get to read it...saves time thats all.
Character building;

I find it best to ask yourself questions about each character.
Start with the physical side i.e. physique, hair and eye colour, any physical defects like a limp or nervous twitch that sort of thing.
Then maybe explore his/her/its upbringing. Mother and father or lack of and how this might effect the way he looks on his world.
In Jake's case the biggest question is how he became a daywalker and why does he feel so weak?
I find closing my eyes and just imagining my character stood in front of me. Ask them questions you might ask them if you had met them socially for instance then build up the hidden qualities from there.

Hope this helps.

Adyc
 
Hi, Darius.

It looks like you're getting a great start on your story. Keep writing and you're bound to get even better.

You still have a lot of work to do on the technical side, and you also seem a little behind with some writing conventions. The best way to fix that, of course, is to read more books! Lots of them!

Again, I'm not as good at critiquing for storytelling ability as other people here, so you'll need to hear more from them about how to improve that side of your work. I'm much better with the technical side, so I'll mainly comment on that.

I made some minor revisions to part of your work to help you get an idea of what you need to improve. I didn't do it all, of course, because I'm working on my own book and will need to get back to it, but I hope what I did helps.

You'll need to cut down on the bold and italics, and eliminate most of your centered text. It's appropriate to center the title, chapter headings, and the like, but the not the main body of your text.

And, of course, you still slip back and forth between present and past tense. You need to keep your narrative in one tense or the other. There's still a bit of redundancy in your work too.

On the other hand, you're still in the drafting process, which is not perfect by definition. These are mainly things to look for when you go back to revise.

You seem to do quite well getting into Jake's head in this first person format. Not bad. Keep it up!

Now, without further ado, here's what I did (my comments are in blue):


#

"I told your mother you’re too old for this," said Dad with a meaningful wink, "but she insisted on it anyway."

Mom raised her eyebrows when I looked at her. "Ignore your father, Jakey. He's just acting manly in front of his boy."

"But Sarah, Jake's no longer a child. He's—"

"Not an adult yet, Arthur, you of all people should—"

[Dashes are normally used to represent interruption. Ellipses usually signify a more lengthy pause than a comma, or a break in speech, or - at the end of the quote as you have here - the speaker drifting off to leave the thought hanging. Sorry, but I'm not sure if I explained this very well. Maybe someone else can add some input?]

"Ahem!" I cleared my throat to get their attention. The last thing I wanted to happen on my birthday was a silly argument between my parents. "Why don't you guys wait for me in the kitchen and we could have breakfast together?"

"Al right. I’ll cook the bacon." Mom sighed and then headed for the stairs leading down to the kitchen. "Just hurry up and get dressed Jakey." She added as she moved downstairs.

I smiled as I watched her walk away. She always treats me like a grade school brat, but I love her.

[Just my preference, but the "dear old" bit doesn't seem to fit. Also, "all right" is two words.]

"So," said Dad, interrupting my thoughts. The wide grin on his face made me think he was happy, but something about it made me shiver. "Excited to become a man, lad?"

[I simplified this, and other lines like it, to make it easier to read.]

"S-sure." I didn’t know what else to say. "I'm … looking forward to it, Dad." Was that the right thing to say?

[The "Sssss" here makes me think of hissing. We usually use a dash to signify stuttering, like I did here. Also, since it's clear now from the dialogue that he's stuttering, it's probably unnecessary to say so.]

"That's my son! Jake, you’re going to make me proud." Then he slapped me on the shoulder and almost knocked me into the wall. I haven’t seen him like this since he got his fat Christmas bonus from a client at the firm. He sure was excited to make a man out of his son.

Mom’s voice erupted from the bottom of the stairs. "Arthur, could you get the garbage down here? It's getting out of hand again!"

[Don't want to have too many exclamation points together. Besides, "could you get the garbage down here?" is interrogative, and so a question mark is more appropriate.]

I could just make out the delightful scent of sausages and bacon as it drifted up the stairs.

[Just a thought: how close is the kitchen? It's apparently "down the stairs," so I figured he might not "hear" the sizzling frying pan - but I'm not sure.]

"I'm coming, honey! Just a minute." Dad ran down the steps like an obedient lap dog, towards the kitchen. While he behaved like what he considered a "real man" and was never afraid to face anyone, he was rather tame around Mom.

["Towards" implies "in the direction of," so you don't need both. "Towards" is also simpler and often works better, so I went with that. I also thought you didn't need the "man of the house" bit.]
 
CHAPTER ONE: BIRTHDAYS AND PRESENTS


Today... 31st of August...


It's my Birthday.
Great....
Dad's gonna buy old John Bucko's ancient truck for my present.
Nice....
I'm gonna drive to school tomorrow looking like a farm boy on his first day as a senior.
Terrific.... It's gonna be one heck of a ride...


As I was sitting my ass off the corner of my room, listening to a rock song and bullying my mind of
off?
all the insults that I would get as
"when" rather than as"?
I drive to school tomorrow on a rusty, old farm pick up, I can't help wishing it was still summer. I never really liked high school anyway, not the kind of way it runs down here at Easton, and if not for the fact that one needs to finish high school in order to proceed to college, I think I would've ditched it completely. Truth is, I really hate this place and everything there was to it: the weather, the people, the fat lady on the other side of the street, our house... everything. I wish I could move back time, back to last summer where I was having so much fun riding the waves on that nice beach
comma
together with the
only?
person I've ever cared
"for" "about"?
in my life...
...KYRIE...
I know this is probably only me, but when I see the name in capitals like that I get it in three syllables as in church (Kyrie eleison) requesting mercy
And speaking of her, I find myself staring into a corner of the wall full of photographs and memories of our childhood,
Either a full stop rather than the comma (I don't think so) or no capital "M"
Mine and hers. I smiled, thinking of her and those memorable moments captured and placed on those tiny squares hanging on that space of
you can't hang "on" a space. Actually, I question whether "that space of" is necessary.
the wall. There's that picture on the far left of a small boy, me, dirty and crying on a sandbox by the park and a cute girl, her, taking a little, red handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and was
no "was" (or "who was")
on the verge of wiping the sand of that boy's face. It was 14 years before.... the day I met the best and only friend I ever had...
...KYRIE...
I didn't have much luck at making friends, especially among the girls. You see, I have this “curse” in me that boys my age call as
no "as"
“the loser virus” and most of them , especially the girls,
the "mast of them goes back to "boys my age", and very few of those will be girls
are allergic to it – all except Kyrie. I don't know why, but she seems to be the only person in school that isn't allergic to it.
try to eliminate the repetition of "allergic" (good once, butquestionable more often) Perhaps something like "who it didn't bother"?
Most seniors in Easton, well, are jerks; especially Terry Bode and his good – for - nothing
hyphens rather than dashes (good-for-nothing)
bunch of thugs and misfits. There is also that stupid “queen of the cheerleaders”, Jacqueline Crosby, whose egocentricity matches equally
you don't really need the "equally" with the "matches"
with her stupid brain. She thinks she is the “prettiest, most adorable senior” in the campus when
comma
in fact, most of us are wondering if she's got enough I.Q. To operate a washing machine. If not for these two “jerks”, my life as a student would've been fine... but, as that saying goes, “you cannot have every good thing in life”. Still I am glad that I had Kyrie...

“Knock,Knock!”

A sharp, tapping noise on the door returned my thoughts to reality. Annoyed by the disturbance to what had been a nice daydream, I unwillingly stood up and went for the door. Only two people could be so untimely
I'm not sure about the word "untimely" here.
in my entire life. Sighing
comma
I unlocked the door and, not to my surprise, It was those two standing in front of the door with a birthday cake at hand...
“MOM?... DAD?... whats going...?” I was unable to finish the question.
“HAPPY 18 BIRTHDAY!” the two of them greeted in an enthusiastically gleeful voice. I can't help myself grinning at this act, the same greeting every birthday with only the numbers changing year after year. I almost forgot... there where
were
three people in this world that I cared about...
Mom ... Dad ... and Kyrie ...
“I told your mother that you are too old for this.” Dad said apologetically. “but she insisted upon it anyway so, here we are.” He added with a meaningful wink.

“Ignore your father, Jakey, he's just acting manly in front of his boy.” Mom replied, her eyebrows raising.

“But Sarah, Jake's no longer a child. He's...”

“Not an adult yet, Arthur, you of all people should...”

“Ahem!” I cleared my throat to get their attention. The last thing I wanted to happen on my birthday is a silly argument between both of them. “Why don't you guys wait for me in the kitchen and we could have breakfast together.” I suggested sheepishly.

“Alright. Ill cook the bacon.” Mom said with a sigh as she went towards the stairs leading down the kitchen. “Just hurry up and get dressed Jakey.” She added as she moved downstairs. Dear old mom, I said to myself, always treats me like a grade school brat.

“So.” Dad broke me off from my thoughts. “Excited to become a man, lad?” Dad
probably "He" rather than repeat the "Dad"
comma
with a wide grin spreading all over his face. I know he's
present tense
happy that I'm now of age but there's something on that grin that makes me shiver with anxiety.

“Sssure..” I stuttered,
past tense
unsure of what to say. “I'm looking forward to it... dad.” I answered, asking myself if I had said the right thing.
bit of idea repetition in the "unsure/asking myself"
“That's my son! Jake
comma, and "you're" (contraction of "you are", not possessive)
your going to make your dad proud of you!” He said excitedly as he slapped me on the shoulder that
either "giving me a slap to the shoulder that…" or "slapped me on the shoulder, almost knocking me into the wall"
almost knocked me to the wall. I've never seen him like this since he got his fat Christmas bonus from his client down the firm. He sure is excited to make a man out of his son.

“Arthur, could you handle the garbage down here! It's getting out of hand again!” Mom called out, followed with a sizzling noise of heated frying oil and the delightful scent of sausages and bacon filling the air.
“I'm coming, honey! Just a sec..” My dad called out to her, hurrying, like an obedient lap dog, towards the direction
"in the direction of" or "towards", not both
of the kitchen. Dad could talk and act like a real man and he's
èresent tense
never afraid to face anyone – except Mom. Dear old dad, I thought,smirking to myself, as I closed the door of my room, He sure is the “man of this house.”

I went to the bathroom and started
past tense
heating up the shower.
shower? afterwards he fills the tub.
As I waited for the tub to fill itself with warm water, I stared upon my image on the bathroom mirror. Six feet and two inches tall, fair complexion, skinny with jet black hair and fair brown eyes.Infodump I began to admire myself and did lot's
no apostrophe
of “model poses” in front of the mirror. I never realized that I had changed so much from the crying, accident-prone boy of yesterday. What I see
present tense
in the mirror is somebody else - an evolved form of Jake. Humming a tune from a popular song, “Decode”, I undressed,
past tense
proceeded inside
"into" rather than "inside"
the tub and began bathing myself on
in
the stimulating, warm bath. I'm a man now, I said to myself as I lathed
lathered
my hair with shampoo, I should be able to find a girlfriend this year. But Terry Bode
had
made it sure that girls won't ever talk to “Loser Jake”. In fact every time I tried to get a girl's attention, that thug would show up and humiliate me in front of everyone. I shook myself out of this dark thought; thinking of Terry Bode and his “atrocities” makes
present tense
me sick. “That won't happen this year.” I said
past tense
to myself, determined to reach my goal. “I'm gonna find myself a girlfriend and nobody, not even dumb Terry, could
"can", rather than "could" as he's thinking in present tense
stop me.” I hope so.

After three minutes of bathing, drying and dressing myself, I was ready. I went out of my room and made my way towards the kitchen. The aroma of hot, juicy sausages and and fat dripping bacon was too powerful to ignore. I began to feel hungry as I went downstairs toward the kitchen table.

“There you are, Jakey, what took you so long?” Mom said as I walked across the table towards my seat. “I was afraid the sausages would be long cold before you get here.”
no capital "S", and a comma inside the quotation marks
She added as she washed the frying pan on the kitchen sink. Mom's a “clean freak”. She gets easily annoyed of
by
unwashed plates and frying pans, and in dad's case, unwashed coffee mugs and improperly disposed
of
cigarette butts.

Dad was already on the kitchen table,a mug of classic brewed,
no comma
coffee in front of him and a crisp, fresh newspaper on his hands. He smiled at me,
no comma
as I sat down opposite him, and said, “Jake, I would like you to join me down at old John Bucko's ranch after breakfast. I've got something to show to you.” He said
you've put the "said" before the quote; you don't need the "he said" after.
as he flipped the pages to the business section. I was pretty sure what that manic grin on his face was all about.
 
Um.... I think you need to brush up your grammar right now more than concentrate on the style of prose. May I ask how long you've been writing in English? Also, my friend (who's read your introduction with me) thought it sounded more like an introduction to a movie. She thinks it needs a bit more of a story and less explanations.
 
Thanks for the comment Mr. Anuran.

I've been exposed to english since I was a kid(English btw is a second language here in our country) but unfortunately it's not been practiced here. I wanted to write in english becoz it's a universal language and also I wish to imporve in it. hope you can understand me hehehe :)
 
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