Jennifer M Eaton’s doing a blog hop critique–250 words (plus the end of the last sentence)–you post, critique others from the list, and critique back anyone who gives you a critique.
This is from Changeable, which will be a YA urban fantasy with two narrators. I’m experimenting farther from my comfort zone on this one, so I may fail, but I’m enjoying the effort.
Evelyn’s POV: At the beach, Evelyn is watching two dolphins when her friend Mabel yells that they need to go. Both spot a swimmer headed to shore, and wait. The tide washes seaweed on Evelyn’s bare foot and she does a ‘get-it-off’ dance, which the swimmer makes a snarky comment about. Instead of responding, Ev starts to leave. He yells ‘Run, that’s what they all do!’ after her. Ev yells back, surprising the swimmer.
Anthony’s POV: Anthony and his sister Cynthia are swimming when he feels someone watching them from the shore.
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Homo sapiens commutabilis. That’s what the scientists call us. Everyone else calls us freaks. I’m sub-class delphinus. Minus the Latin, that means I can be a dolphin.
I changed back to human. Arms and legs are incredibly clumsy things to swim with, heavy and useless. But normal people don’t see it that way. Norms prefer their fins in aquariums, or at least in the water far away from them. I headed towards shore and whoever was eyeing us.
This beach was small, tucked away, and not popular. They had no right to stare at us like zoo animals.
The watcher turned out to be a girl my age. She had brown skin, black hair floating around her face in a feathery cut that ended just above her collarbone, and light brown eyes. Her expensive shorts and shirt wouldn’t hold up to much dirt or activity.
Like the girls that strolled through beach shops, never stepping off sidewalk in their rhinestone sandals. She didn’t have the grace to look embarrassed for intruding, though. As I made my way out of the water towards her, she stared at me with nose-in-the-air disgust.
I shouldn’t’ve changed in front of her—it always shocked the normies. And this one was doing something weird now, dancing around like she’d stepped in rotting fish guts.
When her friend told to her to get out of here, I just had to say something. Yeah, I was a mutie freak, but did she have to run off like that? If I let the norms be, I’d collect less bruises. But if you back down, they keep pushing.
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Click on over to these great writers to check out and critique what they’ve posted!