Postby Lochaber Axe » Fri Jan 23, 2004 7:18 pm
Sorry about not posting my critiques earlier... hope this works.
Well... you asked for this. I decided it was time to actually critique like a true editor. My suggestions will be in [] or brackets if you didn't know.
Installment....um, I've lost count. [XVII]
Pen stared at the green blood. Her already frazzled nerves felt like they couldn’t take anymore. She had watched Laowra and Sheila become terribly injured, taken on hunters in hand to hand [I believed this is hyphenated] combat, raced across a blazing desert without water; okay [wouldn't use it... too casual]. But [Never start with and, but, or... you get the idea.] finding out one of her teammates was an alien was a bit much. Ralda looked away from her in shame.
"I was going to tell you eventually."
"So, you’re a Loam?" Pen asked. (Though at this point she didn’t really care.) [Use parenthesis only IN a sentence to show an abrupt change in thought. Never use to make a sentence.]
"No. I am an Aldorian. A shape-shifter. My real name is Joyce Henson." [This is what I like to call whiplash writing... merge this into one or two sentences]
Gradually[ , ] her face changed. Her nose became sharper, and her cheekbones less distinct. Even her eyes changed. They were no longer green, but blue.
Pen pulled at her hair in annoyance.
"This is the limit. The absolute limit.[fragment] Not only am I stuck in the middle of a desert with a wounded alien," she leaned in and yelled in Joyce’s face, "but she turns out to be a liar who led me on a wild goose chase! You were the one who killed my family! You lied about the whole thing, Mantle, the arson, everything; betraying our trust, using me and everyone else as your shields!" [smells of run-on to me]
Joyce seemed to shrink. Whether it was out of sheer shame or her shape-changing abilities, Pen did not know, nor did she care. She wasn’t about to feel sorry for her.
"I apologize for having to deceive you," Joyce whimpered pathetically, "but please don’t raise your voice. Kern might hear you."
"So what?! You lied to him, too. He needs to know."
"No, don’t, I beg you! I only lied about being human, nothing more. Mantle did order the arson and murders. He is the killer, not me."
Pen glared and turned her back to her.
Joyce let her head fall back onto the sand.
"I... is there any way I can prove I am not lying?"
"Not that I can think of."
Joyce stared at Pen’s back. She sighed, looking [ tense change... looked] up at the unforgiving desert sky.
"I give in. I can never convince you. Just please do me one favor.[ "] [Whiplash...]
"What would that be?"
"Don’t tell Kern."
Pen turned around. Would a cold-blooded killer care whether or not some boy knew they were an alien? [If this is a thought... separate it somehow... I prefer italics myself]
"Joyce, don’t you hate humans?" Pen asked.
"No. Why would I? I am not Loam. And even if I were, I was raised around humans. In fact, my mother was one. I am only half Aldorian." [Whiplash]
Pen looked at her. Though Joyce’s eyes were blue, they still retained their sharpness. She was still the same person. But could Pen trust her?
"All right, Joyce. Prove you're part human."
Joyce frowned, puzzled.
"Um, that's not a very easy thing to do, you know."
"Try."
"You'll just have to trust me."
Pen bit her lip, indecisive. [indecisively]
Joyce looked her straight in the eye.
"Please?"
"All right, I believe you."
Joyce smiled, relieved.
"But how are you going to keep Kern from noticing I’m bleeding green?" Joyce asked.
"I don’t know."
"Well, think of something!"
Kern sat in the warm sand, but it couldn’t heat his frozen emotions. He had seen so many horrific things, so many people he cared about fall dead at his feet. Ralda was just another in a long line of murdered loved ones. His callous heart was slashed open, old wounds bled once again. It felt like the time Tia Sheila had taught him how to use a 12 gauge shotgun at the firing range. When he had first fired it, the recoil had smacked the gun into his chest, knocking him [tense change] from his feet.
"The secret, Kern," his aunt had explained, offering [tense change] him a hand up, "is to try again and again. Soon you’ll be strong enough to handle it."
It had occurred to Kern that life was like that. Things will hit [tense change] you in the heart, but you have to keep trying. And he had tried. But right now he had never felt weaker. [I have already covered this...]
He wanted to sit there until the end of time, anything but return to the horrible reality of Ralda’s death. But [-_-] that was just not an option. Gradually Kern pulled out of his daze. He blinked. ‘What do I do now?’ he wondered to himself. His thoughts moved to Pen. At least she was alive. That was something. Though it pained him to even budge, he stood, wiping the sand from his legs, and turned towards Pen. His jaw dropped. Ralda was sitting up, talking. [Major Whiplash]
"It’s a miracle!! Ralda!" he ran towards her, feet kicking [tense change] up sand, "YOU’RE NOT DEAD!!!" [for formal writing, don't do in all caps... also don't use more than one punctuation mark]
He was just about to reach her, but Pen stood in his way.
"Pen," he panted, a puzzled look on his face, "What is it? Why...." he lunged to the left. She followed. He lunged to the right. Still she stood in his way, like a reflection in a mirror. [Here is a rule: a majority of your sentences must be more than five words.]
"Kern, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you see her," she announced, holding [tense change] her hands out in front of her.
"And why the heck not?!" he yelled. [ ?! does not add anything to your story... ever]
"She’s been badly injured." [get rid of "been"... it adds too little to the story for comfort]
"Well, obviously. But my tia’s a registered nurse. She taught how to deal with injuries. I’d better check her wound." He moved closer to her. [see below]
"No, you really... I mean, it’s... pretty bloody."
Kern glared at her.
"Pen, I’m not some kid. I’ve seen bloody. But right now I want to see Ralda!" [again]
Pen frantically searched her mind for another explanation.
"Wait! You really don’t want to look at her. The wound is in a place you really shouldn’t be looking at."
Kern’s eyes widened in embarrassment.
"I mean," Pen continued, "it’d be even better if you just stayed away altogether."
Kern turned the color of canned beets.
"Oh, gosh. S-sorry. I.... I’ll stay over here." He turned to leave. "Tell her I’m glad she’s all right, okay?"
"Sure."
Kern walked back to his spot with a giant grin on his face. ‘She’s alive!’ he said to himself. And even though he couldn’t see her for now, it was the best news he’d had in a long time.
Final opinion: You started with conjunctions too many times and you also created too many excess sentences. Becareful of tense changes (this is sometimes a problem for me), if you start with past... stick with past.
Bah! Why did I edit this on Wordpad? It always messes up the sizing from it to here. Next time... I'll just pm you my edits.
I'll see you next time.
... writers have better listen to me or I am going to throw their book right back into their faces and kick them in the rump out of my office. 
That is why I am either going freelance or work for a small publishing company so that I can do stuff like that. If I behaved like that in a big Publishing House... of course, it might be the other way around. Who knows?
