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.
UPDATE: Due to some feedback I’ve made some rewrites. (Snippets since #11) If anyone wants to read the changes, they’re here. Further posts may have some overlap as I’ve moved things around.
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. Ev starts to leave, but when he yells ‘Run, that’s what they all do!’ after her, she scolds him for being rude. He reveals that he was one of the dolphins she watched–and one of the Changeable. When Mabel tries to apologize for her friend, he interrupts.
Anthony’s POV: Anthony and his sister Cynthia went swimming that morning, hoping to have the beach to themselves. When he spotted Evelyn watching them, he changed to human and confronted her.
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Like the girls that strolled through luxury shops, their rhinestone sandals never touching sand. Spoiled princesses that’d tell their boyfriends to shove me around if I even looked at them funny.
And Evelyn called me rude, which didn’t sound like an apology to me. Time to get away from the crazy girl. As the tide washed over my feet, a hand gripped my upper arm. Astonished, I turned back.
“I’m sorry,” Evelyn dropped her hand from my arm, but kept her amber eyes fixed on mine. “I wasn’t paying attention, and acted without consideration. But Mabel deserves an apology.”
Mabel stared at the sand, freckle-spotted shoulders slumped, her sun-bright red hair covering most of her face. I’d feel sorry for her, except for her clothes. Expensive stuff that probably cost as much as half my wardrobe. No, she wasn’t anything like me, either.
“I don’t owe you anything,” I stepped back, but Evelyn followed, a bulldog-stubborn set to her jaw. “It’s going to get a bit wet.”
“I can swim.”
“I swim better.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure there’s things I do better than you. Obviously, I have better social skills.” She folded her arms and watched me. Her chin jutted up, nose in the air like the first time I saw her. But her arms wrapped around her ribs, hugging herself, and she seemed smaller than a minute ago.
“I didn’t mean to make her cry.”
“I’m not Mabel. I don’t need your apology.”
Behind her, Mabel squeaked like a kicked puppy. She twisted her intertwined fingers, gaze ping-ponging between me and her friend.
Evelyn’s bright gold-brown eyes met mine, and we shared a moment of guilty amusement. She shook her head. “Anyway, what’s your name?”
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Click on over to these great writers to check out and critique what they’ve posted!