I'm working on a story called "Archers of the Sky". Here is the prologue. (PLEASE give criticism).
Tarice was sitting cross-legged, hovering ever so slightly above the ground, eyes closed in deep thought.
Suddenly, an image burst clear into her head; A tall, skinny girl, with waist-length black hair running through the woods, panting.
Tarice opened her eyes and gasped. She fell over backwards, knocking over a chair. For a moment, she was so shocked, she couldn’t breathe.
Hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. Someone knocked.
“Tarice? Tarice! Are you ok?” the voice called.
Tarice sat up slowly and finally caught her breath. The door opened as she stood up and placed the chair back where it belonged.
“Tarice?” The girl walked in with a worried expression. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, Lydia,” Tarice said. “Just a little stunned, that’s all.”
“What is it?” She asked. She seemed curious.
“I haven’t sensed anything for some time. But now, I have.”
Lydia gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth.
“Are you sure?” She asked excitedly. “We haven’t had a trainee for ages. So many humans have lost the will to believe.”
Tarice nodded. “I’m sure. I was meditating when the image flashed in my mind. There is a girl in Virginia who deep down believes.”
Tarice looked straight into Lydia’s eyes.
“Lydia, I need you to alert the Queen right away. We can’t let the Storm Archers find this girl. Her power seems much stronger than other trainees in the past. Go.”
“Right away, Tarice.” Lydia hurried out of the room.
Tarice looked out the window into the stormy sky.
“She may be our only hope.”
Monday, September 5, 2011
Prologue of a Story I'm Working On (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Give Criticism)
I am a 17-year-old homeschooler, author, daydreamer, voracious reader, introvert, feminist, klutz, fangirl, and overuser of tape. I love the impossible (which might explain my obsessions with fantasy novels and Harry Potter) but I dip into the real world . . . occasionally. I tend to get overly emotional over my OTPs and eat sushi or listen to Taylor Swift to soothe the pain. If all else fails, reruns of “Doctor Who” or “Supernatural” is sure to help. I’m a big fan of mismatched socks, Cheez-Its, and bittersweet endings. I believe anything Rainbow Rowell, Felicia Day, or Lin-Manuel Miranda touches turns to gold. If you want to win the way to my heart, help me adopt a baby elephant. Or a llama. Or both. I write to survive and will often yell at my characters if they aren’t behaving, which is always. It doesn’t usually help. I am a contributor to the "Fauxpocalypse" anthology. You can follow me on Twitter at @Magic_Violinist.