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I saw that! The trailer looks awesome, I don’t think they could have cast better actors. They look so similar! Have you seen the trailor? Zuko does a awesome fire kick in it and the cgi is great.
"And so I left this world just as I had entered it. Confused."
I do that too…
Ok glad I’m not the only one…XD
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Lol, I just don’t want people to see my first draft stuff. That’s all. XD
It’s totally fine if you share your writing with everyone, especially if they’re giving you some good feedback. (:
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
I’m not sure who to tag, so I’m just going to post this and hope people see it. 😅
So I’m struggling with the beginning and the ending of my story. I’ll talk about the beginning here and the end in a different post.
M’kay. I’m trying to hook my readers from the get-go, but I’m not sure if that’s exactly happening. I’ve heard multiple opinions on how a book should start, and I’m not sure which one I should listen to. I’ve heard people say to plunge into the action immediately, I’ve heard people say that prologues are okay or not okay (but I actually have my own opinion on that one…), I’ve heard people say that the hook should just show the MC’s internal conflict, andddd, lots of other things.
I thought the beginning of my book was okay, but then I noticed that there’s a lot of telling and backstory that I seem to dump on the reader right away. I’ve read a few articles by Jerry Jenkins, who’s been an author for almost half a century, and he advises to plunge your character into terrible danger immediately or asap. It doesn’t have to be action-packed or super crazy; your character just needs to be in some danger in some way or another. I think I explained that right. I hope I’m not butchering what he meant. XD Anyway, my WIP originally started out with a flashback, but I didn’t think that was good enough, so I’m gonna put the flashback somewhere else. Most of first chapter was just my character thinking. Which isn’t necessarily bad, because he’s not in a situation to interact with a lot of people. It was just a lot of backstory. At least I felt that way.
So I changed it to show how drastic the character’s situation is. Basically, my MC’s parents go missing. As he’s thinking about this, he knows that they often go on journeys, since that is what their trade requires, but they’re always back on time. So he starts to get worried. Especially because he’s been sheltered his whole life and is terrified to leave the house in order to find help, lol. Anyway, these men show up at his house and try to capture/kill him. He manages to escape, but is forced to go find help now because this situation now involves his life on with the lives of his parents.
The original version was just him wondering about what had happened and trying to figure out what to do next. (There was more than that, I promise. XD) It might be easier if I just post the chapters.
So I think my question is, how should I start my story? And what would be the best way to hook the readers?
Here’s the original version of the first chapter:
“Amir!”
“I’m coming, Maman!” Amir’s little feet padded into the room. He jumped onto his bed and ferreted under the covers. “Story time!”
“What do you want to hear tonight?”
“I want to hear my story.”
Maman’s face softened into a gentle smile. “Yes, Amir. Your story. Do you remember when you were born?”
“November 2, 1017.”
“Right. In the night too. It was so cold, but my heart warmed to see your little face when you were born.”
Amir smiled.
“It only took me and your Baba a couple of days before we had chosen your name. Rohan Amir. Kind-hearted prince.”
“But why am I a prince?”
“Because you are one on the inside. Never forget that, Amir. No matter what people try to make you become, you are the kind-hearted prince. A boy like no other.”
“When will I get my last name, Maman?”
“When you earn it. And I’m sure you will earn it very quickly. But before you do, you have to go to sleep.”
Amir giggled as Maman tapped him on the nose. “It is very late. Good night, Amir.” She gave his cheek a soft kiss, then slowly walked over to the doorway. “I love you, my prince.”
“I love you, Maman.”
“I love you, Maman,” Amir murmured, as the wind floated the Rashkitan sands by his window. He sighed and walked over to his desk.
Two days… They had been gone for two days. They had gone on trips that long before, this time it wasn’t planned. When Maman and Baba had left on one of their journey’s that their trade required, they said they would be back in a day’s time.
Well, that day’s time had passed. And so had a second. Amir tried to convince himself that they had just had some complications while traveling. Maybe caught in one of the seasonal sandstorms.
Amir desperately hoped they would be back by tomorrow. Not because he missed them—although he did—but because that meant he’d force himself to find them. To search for any clue as to why they had disappeared. Then he’d have to leave the house… probably even leave the town.
Amir’s stomach twisted at the thought. All his eighteen years, Maman and Baba prohibited him from leaving their property, a small sandstone house on the outskirts of their town. Amir had never questioned why. He had just assumed that they had a good reason. They always had a good reason for anything they told him.
Amir coughed on the cloud of sand that blew through his window and settled across the carpet, glinting in the yellow light of the late afternoon sun. That carpet had gotten so dirty over the past few days since Maman hadn’t been there to clean it. Amir closed the wooden shutters over the window, then grabbed the edge of the carpet and started to drag it across the wooden floor.
“So— heavy—” he grunted, pulling with all his might. “Why do they made these things so heavy?” He dragged it almost out of his bedroom, when he noticed something odd under the carpet. A floorboard looked loose, one end sticking out just a little higher than the rest of the floor. He sighed and stomped on the end with his giveh-shodden foot.
The other end of the floorboard shot up. Amir dropped to the ground and fumbled with the wooden plank, trying to get it to go back in place. “Come on… come on…”
But he only seemed to make it looser and looser. Finally, it popped completely out. Amir sighed and dropped the board next to him. “Great, I broke the floor.” He was about to try to finagle the plank back in its place when a small box caught his eye. He pulled it out of the hole the missing floorboard had made and examined it.
It was made of black walnut box, able to comfortably fit in his two hands, and closed with a rusting, golden clasp. Amir’s fingers were drawn to the clasp, but he yanked his hand away. What was he doing snooping around like this? He’d surely get in trouble. Whoever had hidden this, had hidden it for a reason.
No matter how many excuses Amir made not to open it, the adventurous part of him shooed it away. “Amir,” he said to himself. “Just open it. You’ll see what’s inside, and then you’ll put it back and forget about it.”
Satisfied with his own compromise, Amir took a deep breath and unhooked the clasp. He clamped his eyes shut, then slowly opened them. Inside the dark box was a small scroll and a pendant next to it, engraved with some sort of image. It looked like the shah’s royal crest.
He held it gently in his fingers and held it up to the light that flowed in from the adjacent room. Nothing too interesting about it.
He set it back in the box and pulled out the scroll. It was actually a map. A map of what looked like his little town. A house on the edge of the town was marked and by it was written: For emergencies. Amir gulped.
With shaking hands, he shoved the scroll back in the box next to the pendant, slammed the box shut, and put it back in the floor, covering it with the floorboard. He let out a quick breath and walked back into the kitchen. He paced the floor and tapped his finger against his leg. “I didn’t see anything. This is not an emergency. That paper has not importance to me. And that definitely was not Maman’s handwriting. Nope, not possible.”
He paused at the threshold of his bedroom and stared at the loose floorboard. No, I won’t. He pushed away any idea to look at the map again by sliding the carpet back over it. He’d clean the carpet later.
~~~
Why am I doing this? Amir asked himself for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. He gripped the map in his sweaty palms as he traipsed down the sandy walkway from his house that led into the heart of the town. Amir, why are you doing this? What if whoever lives at this house is dangerous? What if he kills you? That thought almost made Amir turn right back around and run to the comfort of his own home. But remembering that Maman and Baba were missing made Amir press forward. That was the only reason he was going, the only logical reason why he should break Maman and Baba’s rules and walk straight through the town he was forbidden to enter.
Amir sucked in a breath as he came to the edge of the trail. Only an arrow’s shot away was the heart of his town. Once he entered, he knew he wouldn’t turn back. He forced his feet to move onward, feeling like he was in the wrong body. Never in his life would he have imagined going here…
He entered through the open gates and paused in complete awe. It was second market hour. The hour when everyone would do their shopping in the evening, since it was one of the coolest parts of the day. Vendors lined the streets, their booths overflowing with all sorts of goods: meat, fish, flowers, spices, jewelry, scarves, turbans, shoes, and every product imaginable.
Amir slowly walked into the orderly chaos of the market. Shoppers bustled every which way, bumping against Amir on every side. He could barely apologize whenever he stepped on someone’s foot. Which happened too often to count.
“Spices! Spices! Turmeric, saffron, and even cinnamon! Young man, would you like to smell?” A vendor held out a bowl of spices and shoved it under Amir’s nose. Amir nodded and smiled.
“That smells very nice, but I’m not here to buy any—”
“Spices! Spices! Turmeric—” the man began his little speech again, apparently only trying to find people who would buy his goods.
“Fresh fish! Straight from the docks!”
“Silk scarves! Silk imported from over the seas!”
“Rubies, emeralds, and sapphire! Only thirty shakas a jewel!”
“Fresh fruit! Oranges, apples, bananas, and grapefruit!”
Amir gave nods and smiles to every vendor that tried to sell him something. He would have stopped to look at their goods, but whenever he said he was only looking and not planning to buy anything, the vendor moved onto the next shopper. Amir was swept along with the throng, made of people who seemed to have one goal. That was to get their goods and go.
Amir’s nose was flooded with the smells of fresh fish, fragrant flowers, savory spices, and the sweat of the people pressing against him.
He could barely distinguish one sound from another as they all blended together around him…
And he loved it.
He felt a twinge of sadness when he finally was out of the marketplace. Why had Maman never allowed him there? It was amazing!
His joy soon dissipated though as he followed the map through streets that twisted and turned along the outskirts of the town. Dirt blew along the sides of the buildings and rats skittered near Amir’s feet. He walked carefully, trying to avoid the little rodents.
The sun slowly sank below the clouds, casting odd shadows through the alley he was walking through. Amir barely noticed he was crumbling the map in his fist when he found himself on the doorstep of an abandoned house.
He bit his lip as a spider skittered down the wall and into the shadow of a corner. Amir looked up at the wooden door, softened with age and dirtied because of little use.
Amir lifted his fist up to the door and held it hovering above the wood. He couldn’t find the strength in him to simply knock.
What if nobody’s here? What if they kick me out? What if someone else is living here than before? What if—
Amir stopped himself before he got too far in his “what if” game. He’d only scare himself more than he already was. The shadows deepened in the alley as he stood there on the doorstep… waiting… If he waited too long, then he’d have to walk home in complete darkness. And there was no way he’d be able to do that.
His finger tapped against his leg as he again lifted his hand… and knocked.
And the redone version…
Amir swung the club, sending a plume of dust from the carpet. He coughed as it clouded his throat. The club slipped from his hands and dropped with a muffled thud into the sand. He looked over the carpet. Nope. Still not clean enough. Maman always insisted on at least twenty beats.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and squinted into the desert horizon stretching out in the distance. The sun’s rays danced across the dunes from above, casting shimmering diamonds in the sands.
Cactuses… a lonely bird… plumes of dirt… but still no Baba and Maman. They said they’d be gone for one day.
It had been two.
He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t worried. Because in the past, they had always returned from their journeys when they said they would.
“Excuse me? Young man?”
Amir’s attention snapped to the man struggling up the dusty walkway that connected their house down to the streets of the town. His heart pounded in his chest as the man dressed in rags approached. Maman and Baba had always prohibited him from leaving their property. And if any strangers ever came to their house, they always handled it.
“Y-yes?” Amir asked, hating the way his voice cracked.
“Can you spare a few shakes for a poor man?” The man was only a few steps away from Amir now.
“I-I’m sorry, I d-don’t have any.”
“Surely you have at least a few. My wife and baby are waiting in the town for me. We just need enough money to buy us a meal or two for the day.”
Amir bit his lip, his finger tapping against his leg. “I’ll be, be right back.” He disappeared into the house. After rummaging around in the kitchen, he came back with a few shakas in his hand. “Is this—” He froze. Instead of the ragged man, in front of him was a group of people dressed in black, thick yellow sashes tied around their waists.
Amir slowly backpedaled, the shakas slipping out of his sweaty palm. “Wh-what do you want?”
“Just you,” one said, his voice low and steady.
Amir wet his lips. He had to get out of here. Without a second thought, he darted back into the house, causing the men behind him to erupt in a chorus of yells and chase after him.
His headstart was barely enough to get him through his bedroom window before the black-robed men caught up. His eyes were immediately drawn to the palm tree. So up he scrambled, crouching in the fronds at the top. He peered down at the men as they darted about, looking for Amir.
He had to grip onto the stiff ends of the fronds to keep from falling. The sun glinted off the daggers they held in their hands and he suddenly felt lightheaded.
After a while, the men finally gave up and left. But Amir wasn’t going to risk it. He sat in the tree for a few hours, trying to calm his beating heart. Finally, certain that they all had left, he carefully shuffled down the tree. He landed on the ground with a soft thud and looked up. His stomach twisted at the fact that he had been so far up off the ground.
He shook his head and walked back into the house on wobbly legs. The house had been ransacked—chairs and tables overturned, blankets from beds tossed across the floor, cabinets flung open.
He shuddered at the thought that those men could have killed him if he wasn’t hidden. But what did they want him for? Was this the reason Maman and Baba always kept him hidden?
Amir walked into his room, his giveh-shodden feet shuffling against the dust-coated floorboards. The floor of his bedroom looked so plain without his carpet there. He cocked his head. One end of a floorboard was sticking up just above the level of the rest of the floor. He sighed and stomped on the protruding end.
The other end of the floorboard shot up. Amir dropped to the ground and fumbled with the wooden plank, trying to get it to go back in place. “Come on… come on…”
But he only seemed to make it looser and looser. Finally, it popped completely out. Amir sighed and dropped the board next to him. “Great, I broke the floor.” He was about to try to wrestle the plank back in its place when a small box caught his eye. He pulled it out of the hole the missing floorboard had made and examined it.
It was made of black walnut box, able to comfortably fit in his hands, and closed with a rusting, golden clasp. Amir’s fingers were drawn to the clasp, but he yanked his hand away. What was he doing snooping around like this? He’d surely get in trouble. Whoever had hidden this, had hidden it for a reason.
No matter how many excuses Amir made not to open it, the adventurous part of him shooed those excuses away. “Amir,” he said to himself. “Just open it. You’ll see what’s inside, and then you’ll put it back and forget about it.”
Satisfied with his own compromise, Amir took a deep breath and unhooked the clasp. He clamped his eyes shut, then slowly opened them. Inside the dark box was simply a small scroll.
He unrolled it carefully, revealing a map of what looked like his little town. A house on the edge of the town was marked and by it was written: For emergencies. Amir gulped.
With shaking hands, he shoved the scroll back in the box, slammed the box shut, and put it back in the floor, covering it with the floorboard. He let out a quick breath and walked back into the kitchen, pacing the floor and tapping his finger against his leg. “I didn’t see anything. This is not an emergency. That paper has no importance to me. And that definitely was not Maman’s handwriting. Nope, not possible.”
He paused at the threshold of his bedroom and stared at the loose floorboard. No, I won’t. He pushed away any idea to look at the map again by running outside and dragging the heavy carpet back into his room. Yeah, the carpet was clean enough.
(The second half of the chapter is the same as the one before)
Don’t feel obligated to help, but I’d love your opinion if you have anything to share. Oh and please ask questions if anything I said doesn’t make sense because it might not. XD
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
Sorry if the formatting is weird
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
I don’t have enough brain power to post my other question rn, so I’ll just leave it at that. XD
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
I honestly like the second version better…but that’s just my opinion XD
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Alright!
Lol, that’s fine. Your opinion is what I’m looking for anyway. XD
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
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- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@whalekeeper Totally random, but if I’m not mistaken, are you the one that loves the band “The Oh Hellos”?
Bc I’m listening to their song “I have Made Mistakes” and I am in love with it right now XD🩷🩷
anywhooo, that was random, haha. Apologies 😅
@freedomwriter76
I am!! I haven’t listened to that song but pretty much anything they make is awesome, so… 😅
And I love random! I know we don’t talk too much, but we’ve seen each other enough on here that it’s not weird for you to tag me randomly 😂🩷 How are you, by the way?
#ProtectAdolinKholin
@lightoverdarkness6 @freedomwriter76 @whalekeeper @lydibug @calyhuge @mineralizedwritings (you can ignore)
Hey, how are you guys doing? Is writing going good?
Sorry I’m just kinda bored and lonely rn and wanted to chat with someone.
🎵It takes a long time to wait 🌻
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