Author: jsabia (Page 6 of 8)

The story is about a young girl who has transitioned, and she accidentally releases her fire ants from her ant farm into her house.  She then has to kill them at the end.  I like the deeper meaning behind the death of the ants being like the death of her old self before she transitioned.  I also enjoyed how the notion of her transition wasn’t the main plot of the story, I found that it gave it deeper meaning to sort of be sprinkled in.  Why ants?  What made the author choose ants, and is there a more significant meaning to the ants being chosen?  I would think about condensing the beginning.  I felt like it was difficult to follow her thoughts about the ants and that she was talking about a lot of things at once, but this could have also been intentional because the narrator was freaking out.

It’s about merpeople researching the past (humans).  I liked how suspenseful it was and how I could picture the characters in my head as I was reading along.  I felt like it was really easy to visualize the large cave that they were in.  I want to know how they are moving about.  Do they walk?  Do they swim?  I would suggest sticking to one verb in terms of how they move, since both are used in the story.  I would also like to see some sort of resolution to the story, like a more concrete ending rather than everything being left up in the air.

A story about an astronaut stuck in space after the end of the world.  He is originally with another one of the crew members, but he ends up being a figure of his other crew member is actually a figure of his imagination.  I loved this story.  The dialogue between the characters was outstanding and added a lot to the story.  I loved the aspect of the plot twist where the other crew member was actually never there.  It was overall just really well written.  Because Percy isn’t on the crew log talked about in the “in remembrance” section, is Percy just made up?  Like who is he?  Give Percy a little more significance.  By making a connection between him and the narrator it will add more of a deeper element to the story.

The story is about a girl mentally battling her fear as she prepares to bridge jump. I absolutely love your writing style, you have a really beautiful way of describing things in a way that shows me what is happening rather than simply telling me what is happening.  I love the ending and how you wrapped all of it up, the only thing I found slightly confusing was the jump to talking about her teacher in school in the beginning, it felt a little out of place to me.

It is about two demigods that are going on a date after having not been on one for quite a while.  I liked the idea of the fictional universe that it takes place in and the dynamic of the relationship that could possibly be strained with time, but is found to not be strained at all.  What significance does them being demigods have?  I just feel like the story was less about that and more about the relationship.  I would just suggest condensing it a little, we spend a lot of time with the anxiety of the narrator and the planning of the date, but not really much time getting to know anything outside of them.

I was very nervous for my story to be workshopped, and I have always been my own harshest critic; however, I feel as though the workshop went really well!  I was really surprised to see how each and every person interacted so differently with my story.  I found that him being injured came across as a much bigger deal in the story, as it only seemed like whiplash in my head.  I will be going back and dialing that down, as he is definitely not in as intense danger as everyone thinks he may be.  I also will be adding an ending in which the relationship between the characters changes.  Everyone wants to see them end up together romantically, but being the chaotic writer I am, I think I am going to make them end up hating each other and having a really strained relationship.  I’m also going to go more in depth to his perspective and show that he is mentally not ok rather than having him push everything aside as he has been doing throughout the whole story.  I actually really enjoyed getting to hear the things that people didn’t like about the story or things that they would change because I know I didn’t like specific parts either, but I didn’t know how to change them.  Now I have a better idea of where to go with the story and I am actually excited to see where it goes.

Her:

I jolted awake in the morning with a gut feeling that something was off.  As I began to scroll through social media, I came across a message from my best friend about how he had fallen asleep behind the wheel and flipped his car all but fifteen minutes from my house.  Immediately I lost all sense of direction and feeling in my fingers as my head began to spin.  When I finally regained my awareness, I was able to send him a text to ask if he was alright, while also leaping out of bed to go find my mom.  I was able to hold it together until I saw her face and I felt the blood drain from mine as I had to tell her that I didn’t know if my best friend was okay.  Still in my pajamas, I was ready with my keys in hand about to go find him without even knowing which direction to go. 

Him:

I knew driving this morning was a bad idea.  I had stayed up all night to bring my roommate to the airport early and then decided to start my three and a half hour journey home.  The heat coming through the air vent and the quiet static of the radio started to make my eyelids heavy.  I had thirty minutes left in my drive.  These roads were all familiar to me now.  The weathered gas station that was constantly swarmed with people from out of town, the road signs I have read endless times, and the fallen tree from a storm that rolled through three years ago.  Twenty minutes left on the highway, and all I remember is the sound of my truck as it hit the guardrail on my left.  I immediately jerked my wheel back to the right in an attempt to correct it.  That’s when the truck flipped.  One, two, three times it rolled as I was being thrown around until I blacked out.  When I came to it, I was upside down and hanging from my seat belt.  I was able to calmly exit the truck as I called 911.  I took a picture to send to my friends and family, and was immediately met with a flood of texts and calls while I was waiting for someone to come help me.  I knew my car was totaled the second I looked at it.  My best friend from school was awake for some reason and started frantically texting me as if she were going to come find me.  Sure, she’s fifteen minutes away, but what is she going to do?  Once the police and paramedics arrived and told me that I was alright, I decided to send her a text.  I told her not to worry, the same spiel I had given to every person that panicked and called me.  I had to.  I wasn’t going to tell her that it had shaken me up because that’s not what she wants to hear, it’s not what anyone wants to hear.  All anyone needs in this situation is reassurance.  So I put on my brave face and even managed to make a joke as I told each and every person that I was alive and well and simply wanted to take a nap.  That’s a believable story right? 

Her:

I was now able to hold on to the fact that not only was he alive, but miraculously did not have a scratch on him.  I could no longer sit still, as my brain was moving a mile a minute and tears were continuously streaming down my face.  So I walked.  I kept my feet moving.  Not sure where I was going or how long I had been going for, just keeping my physical body moving in attempts to catch up with my mind.  It was after nine aimless miles that I received a phone call.  It almost made me mad how relaxed he was.  He continued to try and comfort me, telling me that everything was alright and he had no idea why I was crying.  It made me feel as though I was losing my mind, but I knew exactly what he was doing.  He’s the type of person to make everyone around him feel relaxed without a care in the world about himself.  I knew that he was taking care of everybody else instead of letting the reality of the situation set in.  This type of accident isn’t something you simply brush off your back, there is always lasting pain and fear involved, and I made sure to let him know that I was going to be there no matter how he feels or what he is thinking in the future.  He shouldn’t have to carry this burden with him by himself, no matter how hard he is going to try.

Him:

She was crying, and I felt kind of bad.  It was probably the adrenaline that was still coursing through my veins.  It felt good to know that I was cared about, but at the same time I felt kind of guilty for making everyone scared.  But more than anything, I was mad at myself.  How could I be so stupid to drive when I knew I was exhausted?  Falling asleep behind the wheel is one of those things you always see in movies and never expect to happen to you, and it was even more frustrating that I felt like it was my fault.  My dad came to pick me up, and he wasn’t even mad at me.  Mom was in absolute hysterics, so she stayed home with my brother.  Watching the remainder of what would have been my drive home was infuriating as I realized truly how close I was to my destination.  As we pulled into my driveway, my mom busted out the door and held me for dear life and she cried…and cried…and cried.  Like don’t get me wrong, I get it, but also I’m alive, can we relax a little?  Evidently not because as more and more time began to pass, it finally set in that I very well could have been dead.  I was exhausted still, and sick of answering the endless stream of texts and phone calls, so I decided to take a nap.  I closed my door, finally in some peace and quiet, but I found it to be anything but peaceful.  I tossed and turned as the crash played on an endless loop, willing me to feel the terror that I didn’t entirely grasp in the moment.  

Her:

I made it back home, not fully knowing the path that I had walked for the past couple hours.  He had stopped responding to my texts, so I’m assuming he took a nap.  It was late morning by this time, as the sun finally rose above the tree line in my backyard.  I didn’t want to be alone, as I knew my mind would continuously play the “what if” scenarios that I’m sure everyone was thinking as they saw those horrifying photos of his roof caved in.  I called one of my friends in town, and we decided to go out for coffee and a drive in an attempt to distract me.  We had a lot of catching up to do anyway since we had just gotten home for Thanksgiving break.  We filled each other in on everything that had been going on in our lives now that we were at different schools.  The good, the bad, and the ugly as some may say.  She always knew what to say in order to calm me down, even if she couldn’t relate to the current situation at hand.  Once I got home, my parents were back from running errands, and I suddenly felt like everyone was walking on eggshells around me.  They would ask how he was, but were very careful to not mention anything about the accident itself.  Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, my family would be driving to my grandparents house a few towns over as we always do.  But this time would be different.  Not only do I drive past his house to get there, but I also drive right past the very same guardrail he hit all but twenty four hours prior.

Him:

I eventually fell asleep, it was far from easy, but I stopped rolling around after a bit.  Ha.  Rolling.  Get it?  Because I rolled my truck?  Too soon?  Anyway, I’m already sick of talking about it.  It’s been less than a day and I’ve already had to do a retelling more times than I can count.  There are only so many jokes I can make and shocked reactions I can endure.  Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I just know it’s going to be headline news there for sure.  My house will once again be infiltrated by people who want to hear all about how I almost died, while they all do the same “thank God you’re okay”  like I don’t even believe in God, leave me alone.  My mom has been hovering much more than usual, like she’s expecting me to drop dead right in front of her.  My dad on the other hand has been giving me space and trying not to talk about it,  I think he understands that I’m getting sick of feeling like a broken record.  While my brother on the other hand is trying to help make light of the situation by making me laugh about how I’m just like a character in Fast and Furious.  It’s the calm before the storm and I can feel the reactions that I will get from my extended family (and friends) tomorrow as I go through the story in my head long enough that it should be a breeze to skip through it when I have to put it on loop.  I decided to invite my best friend to stop by on the way back from her grandparents house, not only to calm her nerves, but because I needed a comforting smile that wouldn’t treat me like I was falling apart.

Her:

As I was finishing up my makeup and getting changed to go to my grandparents house, I received a text inviting me to stop by on my way home.  Of course I was going to go, I needed to see for myself that he was alright.  The downside to this invitation; however, is that I now have to take a separate car from my parents, which leaves me driving past the wreck site alone.  Fifteen minutes.  My engine comes alive as I begin my drive to Thanksgiving dinner.  Listening to whatever comes on the radio, I find myself being overly cautious and nervous of the slightest changes in direction of every car I pass.  I glance over at my GPS with a sinking feeling that I am getting closer to the location of the gut wrenching photos I had seen of my friend’s mutilated truck.  3 minutes.  The closer I get to the exit, the more I begin to realize that I very easily could have made it to him on the day that it happened, if I would have only known where to go.  My breath catches in my throat and my ears begin to ring as I see it.  A pool of oil surrounded by small pieces of glass and sand beside a large, metal guardrail so mangled that it looks as though it would crumble at the slightest gust of wind.

Him:

Usually setting up for Thanksgiving is a long and tiring process, but this year I found myself trying to prolong it, as if that was going to make our guests arrive later.  When the first doorbell rang, I took a deep breath knowing that this was going to be the beginning of a long day.  Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and family friends all filed in, said their hellos and made a direct b-line to come and hear all about my recent brush with death.  I left each person that I spoke to with a smile on their face.  I made sure to keep everything light hearted and funny, there was no reason to get everyone all worried about me, even if I could feel the soreness of my neck stretch all the way to the bottom of my back.  After I had made my mandatory rounds to all of the extended family that I see once in a blue moon, I was finally able to pretend that everything was normal and go play basketball with my cousins.  All the while hoping that nobody paid too much attention to the fact that I would wince after every free throw. 

Her:

Dinner seemed to last forever as I watched the clock tick back and forth.  I found myself willing the usul awkward, tense, and probably political, Thanksgiving dinner conversation to cease.  I am one of two children in my entire family, so our holidays aren’t known to be all that lively, unless of course there’s some sort of debate involved.  The only thing getting me through this one; however, was the idea that I get to see my best friend as soon as I leave.