Tarnished Scars {PREVIEW}

[Falthor]

[ TARNISHED SCARS : THE EPIC ØF THATCHER GRESLIN ]

An Action/Adventure Original Trainer novel by Falthor.

[ Førewørd ]

“When he approaches the light, his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.”
~ Plato, The Republic

[ Dedicatiøn ]​

For inspiring me, challenging me, and reshaping my way of thinking, I truly idolize this man. You’ve done so much for me, and you know little about it. You truly are the greatest being on the face of this earth, and I am glad that I could be under your tutelage these past few years. I dedicate it to you, Bob Smith (I will not disclose your real name because of the lack of safeties on the Internet), but I know whom you are, and I’m glad you’ve done so much for me. Thank you.

[ Letter frøm the Authør ]​

One eventful day, as I was searching through the old remains of The Cave of Dragonflies forums for some of my old works, I found Tarnished Scars, and began to read it. I was immersed in the world of Goldracone, the land in which everything took place. As I read, I saw my tendencies to over-describe many of the places, objects, and sceneries that were very unnecessary. The plot was gone; it just seemed to be a journey about a boy and his Cyndaquil. Of course, the original premise was that, as well, but he would eventually be known as a “Chosen One” of some variety.

The second revision will be much similar to the original two in terms of premise, but stylistically will be significantly different. Thatcher will no longer be a ten-year-old, angst-filled individual, but an eighteen-year-old whose life is seemingly normal. He is a normal teenager who has just graduated from high school who must make an important decision: spend four years of his life in college, another three in medical or law school; or embark on a journey as a Pokémon Trainer, discovering who he is as both a Trainer and as an individual. The Pokémon journey he eventually decides to go on is an example of the odyssean archetype, as elements from novel(la)s and epics such as The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Iliad, Moby-Dick, The Odyssey, Heart of Darkness, The Voyage of Argo, Ulysses, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which all provide both a physical and metaphysical aspect to humanity.

The story itself, in my opinion, is my greatest work. I plan, unlike all of the fics I’ve written over the past four years, that this one will be completed, hopefully by the end of the summer. I will work on a chapter a night, getting all thirty chapters (ten chapters per each book, almost to the style of Avatar: The Last Airbender, which does twenty per book) done within a month. Each chapter will be very elaborate, since I will, instead of writing seventy chapters for a novel, which is humanly impossible, write more of the significant things in each chapter, so maybe instead of ten pages on Pages (the Mac equivalent of MSWord), I may write twice as much, or 1.5 times as much, who knows?

I truly hope, as a member of all forums I am on (including this one), an author, and as a human being, you appreciate and properly criticize my work. Much has been done to perfect my writing style: I’ve spoken with my school’s Creative Writing teacher on many occasions, since I could not take his course this or next year, discussing how I could tweak this; emphasize that; make description as powerful as it could without overdoing it; using other writers such as Clemens, Conrad, Hemingway, Poe, Melville, Hawthorne, Joyce, Shakespeare, Austen, and many more, as inspiration to help mold my style to one of theirs, yet retaining and evolving the elements that I am good at (supposedly my characterization is so complex that it astounds him greatly).

I hope you enjoy Tarnished Scars. In it are amazing characters, a potentially great plot, and an effective use of language and I wish that this story can be just as influential as many of the novels you’ve read in your lifetime. It is greatly moving if you revere it, criticize it heavily, and, in the end, make me a better writer and a better person. Thank you for taking the time out to read this fic, this masterpiece, this work of aesthetic quality that deserves both appreciation and reverie.

Keep in mind, that for disclaimer purposes, this work is entirely fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

Peace and love,
Falthor, author of Tarnished Scars.
__________________________________________________
The following is an excerpt from the first chapter, "Genesis."

Thatcher, wake up...

The buzzing of my alarm clock began as soon my eyes opened. 6:00 exactly. I sat up, ran my hand through my hair, and shook my head, trying to get my locks of hair out of my line of sight. I lifted the sheet off my bed, threw it on the floor, and slid my feet into my slippers. I slowly arose out of bed and plodded to my bathroom. I rubbed my tired, baggy eyes and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were completely bloodshot, dark circles developing underneath. Insomnia was beginning to become my best friend. I turned the faucet and no water spewed from the tap. I nudged the faucet to see if the water would come out, but it was to no avail. I began to jimmy it, shaking the faucet rapidly in a bit of an angered rage, but no dice. My parents probably didn't pay their water bill again. Great.

Don't worry…I can make it work.

After hearing the voice speak inside my mind, the faucet turned on by itself and water began to spew from the tap smoothly, even if the faucet was turned completely clockwise, which was odd. I looked around with shifty eyes, trying to interpret what was going on. I shook my head once more and opened my medicine cabinet. In it lay seven different types of sleeping medicines, shaving cream, razors, and other crap. I grabbed my toothbrush and squirted some toothpaste (which was conveniently on the sink) onto the bristles and began to brush my teeth. I was tired, so my movements were not thorough. Suddenly, a bright, blue, pulsating aura surrounded my toothbrush and the thing brushed my teeth all by itself. Somehow amazing, but mostly just weird.

"What the hell?" I said, muffled. I was quite bewildered, but on the other hand––which may sound more logical––I'm just delusional. I splashed water on my face, fully waking me up. I wasn't delusional; the toothbrush was brushing my teeth all by itself! I opened my mouth and the toothbrush moved aside so I can spit the toothpaste out. I filled my small, six-ounce cup with water and spat out the remaining toothpaste and smiled at myself in the mirror, checking for any missed spots. Somehow, my teeth were even whiter than they were before. This was incredible, but above all, the weirdest thing I have ever seen in my eighteen years of living.

"Damn good toothpaste," I said, trying to block out the awkward events that just occurred. I left the bathroom, the faucet of my bathroom sink turning by itself as I exited. I turned around, realizing that the same aura that surrounded my toothbrush was there. It disappeared a nanosecond after I looked at the faucet. I looked around in different directions, trying to determine what was going on. The morning just began, and already it was off to a weird start. I then flicked the switch to my bedroom, but the light wouldn't turn on. I looked at my alarm clock, it was working properly. I then realized and muttered to myself, “It’s on battery power.” Ah dammit. My parents didn't pay the electric bill either. I turned off the light switch to prevent any danger from happening. But the light bulb in my room flickered and brightened the room ten times brighter than my original incandescent bulb.

"What the hell?" I inquired towards the heavens, my hands in the air, further showing that I was completely bewildered by the day’s events. I scanned the area for something electrical in the area. But there was nothing to be found. I was a bit disturbed, but if there were someone in the city who was kind enough to do this, then by all means, I definitely would let him do so. God knows my parents wouldn't do this. They probably got wasted last night, as usual, and forgot to take on their parental responsibilities and pay their damn bills and nurture their son.

I gathered my belongings and began packing. Apparently, today was the day that I would receive my companion for life. They were called "Pocket Monsters," better known as Pokémon. I had anticipated this moment all my life; it was the day of my legal emancipation from my parents. I had saved enough money from my job working as a busboy at the diner to provide for myself and my partner, and perhaps a traveling fellow Trainer whom I may encounter from time to time. I was nothing but prepared for this life-changing event.

I closed my knapsack and snapped my fingers. The light bulb didn't flicker off, but as I left and closed my door, it did. My room was bare; all my possessions were in a bag slung over my shoulder.

I walked into the living room, which was also my parents' bedroom. Liquor bottles, cans of beer, and other forms of alcohol were scattered about. My parents were on the floor, completely hung over, holding bottles of whiskey in their hands. My father's bottle was dripping, a puddle of the smelly crap forming underneath. I trudged to the kitchenette and saw that there were no paper towels, napkins, nor any kind of liquid absorber whatsoever. Home sweet home, huh?

No point in telling them "good-bye." Half the time, they didn't even care about their own damn son, more so not knowledgeable of the fact that they even have one. I put one hand on the doorknob, took one last look around the apartment, and closed it, leaving the key to it on the table at the entrance.

Good-bye.

 

[Falthor]

A few notifications to counteract your tips:

a. The protagonist is a teenager. Alcohol is crap; his family's been around it for years. I don't think he'll describe it as "a putrid, acidic, beverage that has formed a puddle of said substance." He's eighteen; that vocabulary is beyond him. Remember: he's the narrator, so it's his thoughts you're reading.

b. When the same character is speaking, you don't need to begin a new paragraph. Pick up a novel, you'll see what I mean.

c. Methinks you're correct, so no argument there.

 

[Dragon_night]

Wow. Nice description. Nothing in the mechanics that I saw wrong. It actually looks like expert writing (which would make you the second person on this forum that can write this good *coughcoughSikeSanercough*)

Although, I do have a problem with the whole thing it's self. Although, it's only an excerpt, I think that's it cliche to start off with the character waking up. Just that minor thing <_<

I look forward to reading this once it's finished.

Keep up the excellent work!

 

[Falthor]

Thank you, Dragon_night, and believe me, it won't be cliché (at least, I hope not). By the way, the prerequisites for the High Schoolers Society have been changed, so check that out before you join. Adieu.

 

[opaltiger]

The buzzing of my alarm clock began as soon my eyes opened. 6:00 exactly. I sat up, ran my hand through my hair, and shook my head, trying to get my locks of hair out of my line of sight. I lifted the sheet off my bed, threw it on the floor, and slid my feet into my slippers. I slowly arose out of bed and plodded to my bathroom. I rubbed my tired, baggy eyes and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were completely bloodshot, dark circles developing underneath. Insomnia was beginning to become my best friend. I turned the faucet and no water spewed from the tap. I nudged the faucet to see if the water would come out, but it was to no avail. I began to jimmy it, shaking the faucet rapidly in a bit of an angered rage, but no dice. My parents probably didn't pay their water bill again. Great.

Your writing is very, very choppy. There is absolutely no flow and it's come to the point where it is hard to read. Also, your pacing is utterly ridiculous, especially when I got to this bit:

I grabbed my toothbrush and squirted some toothpaste (which was conveniently on the sink) onto the bristles and began to brush my teeth. I was tired, so my movements were not thorough.

I had to check if you intended this as a parody because, let me tell you, this is not good writing. Describing every single thing your hero does in excruciating detail is not good writing. It is dull, boring, and believe me, no reader is going to hang around for five chapters waiting for the protagonist to leave his house.

Also, said protagonist is very... calm. Your tap turns itself on, your teeth brush themselves, and no reaction? What the hell? Then there's this:

Apparently, today was the day that I would receive my companion for life. They were called "Pocket Monsters," better known as Pokémon. I had anticipated this moment all my life; it was the day of my legal emancipation from my parents.

He had anticipated this moment all his life? Would've fooled me; here's a prime example of telling rather than showing. You say he's excited, but believe me, he comes across as utterly bored by the entire prospect. And while I'm at it please tell me there is a reason he is an emancipated minor. ETA: Oh wait he's eighteen right. Then, er, why is he only getting his first Pokémon now?

Other than that, well, grammatically you're okay which is something of a miracle in this fandom. But unless you dramatically alter your style of writing, I guarantee people will be bored to death.

 

[Falthor]

Your writing is very, very choppy. There is absolutely no flow and it's come to the point where it is hard to read. Also, your pacing is utterly ridiculous, especially when I got to this bit:

I had to check if you intended this as a parody because, let me tell you, this is not good writing. Describing every single thing your hero does in excruciating detail is not good writing. It is dull, boring, and believe me, no reader is going to hang around for five chapters waiting for the protagonist to leave his house.

Also, said protagonist is very... calm. Your tap turns itself on, your teeth brush themselves, and no reaction? What the hell? Then there's this:

He had anticipated this moment all his life? Would've fooled me; here's a prime example of telling rather than showing. You say he's excited, but believe me, he comes across as utterly bored by the entire prospect. And while I'm at it please tell me there is a reason he is an emancipated minor. ETA: Oh wait he's eighteen right. Then, er, why is he only getting his first Pokémon now?

Other than that, well, grammatically you're okay which is something of a miracle in this fandom. But unless you dramatically alter your style of writing, I guarantee people will be bored to death.

I don't follow the rules of canon. Eighteen is the age when you are officially declared a legal adult in some countries. People going off to college are eighteen, so I decided to use that premise.

As for your other comments: Uh, well, I really can't respond to this. I don't think this preview shows all what could be done. Keep in mind this fic will consist of thirty chapters, so I don't think I snippet of a chapter is enough to make a valid judgment. I really don't think the writing is choppy, in my opinion. If you read some of Hemingway's works, especially In Our Time, you would definitely see a difference. Uh, yeah. I have really no reaction other than bewilderment, but then again, I saw it coming. Thank you: I'll be sure to take your advice, but I don't want to destroy four chapters I've already written.

 

[Butterfree]

I'm afraid opaltiger is very right about the choppy writing, and randomly pointing to Hemingway is not going to invalidate the complaint; the sad fact is that I couldn't even get through the first paragraph.

One of your primary problems, I believe, is that you're writing first person exactly the same way you would write fairly detached third person limited. The wording is unnatural and very unlike what direct thought ought to look like; this sentence especially caught my attention:

I turned the faucet and no water spewed from the tap.

There is quite simply not a person on Earth who would actually word this thought like this in their mind (in fact, even in writing it is a stretch). "No water spewed from the tap"? Come on. People can think of water "spewing from the tap" if they actually see it doing so, but when there is no water, the last thing you are thinking of is trying to find a fancier way to word this. There's also the way you use "and", as if no water spewing from the tap is a natural consequence of turning the faucet; this is definitely a sentence where you need a "but". Overall, the natural way to write this would be, "I turned the faucet, but nothing happened", or perhaps "I turned the faucet, but no water came out."

There's also this:

trying to get my locks of hair out of my line of sight

Why would he think of "my locks of hair" instead of just "my hair"? These are his own thoughts. He has no reason to think in any terms that are wordier than necessary to portray what is going on.

Then there's how practically every sentence either starts with "I" or "My", and how all the description is put into sentences of its own instead of being implemented into the flow, and the general lack of actual emotion... where do I even begin with this sentence?

I was quite bewildered, but on the other hand––which may sound more logical––I'm just delusional.

"I was quite bewildered"? Come on. This is not how people think.

You really, really should not be attempting to write first person at the moment; it's obvious that first-person writing doesn't come naturally to you at all. Just changing the pronouns to third person would be a major improvement, although you would still have some major problems with emotion and flow. As it is, it's so utterly forced and unnatural that it's just about unreadable. I'm sorry.

 

[Eevee]

I stopped reading when I saw the 'ØF' in the subtitle.

Then I read opal's comment -- and the quotes -- and was quite glad I didn't read further. Like other self-claimed "good" writing I've seen here, you're just ejaculating as much description as possible with the most varied vocabulary you can muster. I don't know who gave you the impression that this makes for an interesting narrative, but you should probably find that person and beat em to death with eir thesaurus.

As for comparing yourself to Hemingway, well, I don't like Hemingway either. 8)

I can pick this apart sentence by sentence if you really want me to, but I don't think you do.

 

[octobr]

I don't think this preview shows all what could be done.

There's your problem right there. Leaky plumbing.

Previews are supposed to be as good if not better than the full product. You know how sometimes you see a trailer for a movie, and it looks awesome, so you go see the movie and you're disappointed? They've succeeded, because their previews show what could be done. So when you write what you consider a preview you better try and impress us because if you don't we're not going to look at the finished product. We're probably not going to read most of the preview.

Also:

show don't tell show don't tell show don't tell that'll be all.

 

[surskitty]

Noooo I kinda think opalloo was right :|

[ TARNISHED SCARS : THE EPIC ØF THATCHER GRESLIN ]

why is there a letter from some other language in the subtitle? Why are you calling it an epic? There is no way this is going to be an epic.

“When he approaches the light, his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.”
~ Plato, The Republic

kinda pretentious to be quoting Plato for your fanfic

For inspiring me, challenging me, and reshaping my way of thinking, I truly idolize this man. You’ve done so much for me, and you know little about it. You truly are the greatest being on the face of this earth, and I am glad that I could be under your tutelage these past few years. I dedicate it to you, Bob Smith (I will not disclose your real name because of the lack of safeties on the Internet), but I know whom you are, and I’m glad you’ve done so much for me. Thank you.

... [snerk] You really don't need a dedication if you're not saying who you're dedicating it to. You also don't need a paragraph saying why you're dedicating it to them.

One eventful day, as I was searching through the old remains of The Cave of Dragonflies forums for some of my old works, I found Tarnished Scars, and began to read it. I was immersed in the world of Goldracone, the land in which everything took place. As I read, I saw my tendencies to over-describe many of the places, objects, and sceneries that were very unnecessary. The plot was gone; it just seemed to be a journey about a boy and his Cyndaquil. Of course, the original premise was that, as well, but he would eventually be known as a “Chosen One” of some variety.

This sounds more like something Piers Anthony would write. Why are you going on about how you were 'immersed' in your own fanfic's world? Also, what are you trying to say in "As I read, I saw my tendencies to over-describe many of the places, objects, and sceneries that were very unnecessary."? I get what you're trying to say, but, dude, reword for clarity.

And things about a 'Chosen One' are a dime a dozen and never fail to irritate me. Why the hell do they need one particular person to go do such and such?

The second revision will be much similar to the original two in terms of premise, but stylistically will be significantly different.

You don't need the 'will be' in there. Having the 'will be' in there makes it rather choppy and ruins the flow. Try reading what you're writing out loud. Don't repeat yourself.

Thatcher will no longer be a ten-year-old, angst-filled individual, but an eighteen-year-old whose life is seemingly normal. He is a normal teenager who has just graduated from high school who must make an important decision: spend four years of his life in college, another three in medical or law school; or embark on a journey as a Pokémon Trainer, discovering who he is as both a Trainer and as an individual.

Infodump. I don't think you need to be writing what goes on the back cover, and if you're trying for that type of summary, then you might want to make sure that it flows and sounds okay. This... doesn't. You probably also want an 'and' in between 'college, another': otherwise, what you are saying is unclear.

The Pokémon journey he eventually decides to go on is an example of the odyssean archetype, as elements from novel(la)s and epics such as The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Iliad, Moby-Dick, The Odyssey, Heart of Darkness, The Voyage of Argo, Ulysses, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which all provide both a physical and metaphysical aspect to humanity.

Do not compare yourself to the classics. It's pretentious, stupid, and brings to mind one Kenneth Eng. I don't think you really want that association!

The story itself, in my opinion, is my greatest work.

how old are you

I plan, unlike all of the fics I’ve written over the past four years, that this one will be completed, hopefully by the end of the summer. I will work on a chapter a night, getting all thirty chapters

quality, not quantity. Take as long as you need in order to get it done properly.

(ten chapters per each book, almost to the style of Avatar: The Last Airbender, which does twenty per book) done within a month.

Why are you comparing your fanfic to ATLA?

Each chapter will be very elaborate, since I will, instead of writing seventy chapters for a novel, which is humanly impossible, write more of the significant things in each chapter, so maybe instead of ten pages on Pages (the Mac equivalent of MSWord), I may write twice as much, or 1.5 times as much, who knows?

Don't describe your own thing as 'elaborate' if it's probably not. Also, how exactly is seventy chapters for a novel humanly impossible? Who exactly defined how long a chapter has to be?

I truly hope, as a member of all forums I am on (including this one), an author, and as a human being, you appreciate and properly criticize my work.

Why are you hoping we appreciate it? I'll appreciate it if it looks like it should be appreciated. If it doesn't, I will feel perfectly happy either ignoring its existence or writing a long and tedious post about my thoughts on the matter.

Much has been done to perfect my writing style: I’ve spoken with my school’s Creative Writing teacher on many occasions, since I could not take his course this or next year, discussing how I could tweak this; emphasize that; make description as powerful as it could without overdoing it; using other writers such as Clemens, Conrad, Hemingway, Poe, Melville, Hawthorne, Joyce, Shakespeare, Austen, and many more, as inspiration to help mold my style to one of theirs, yet retaining and evolving the elements that I am good at (supposedly my characterization is so complex that it astounds him greatly).

FIRST OFF: no one is perfect. From what I have seen of your writing thus far - and I did also glance at your fic - you don't even get close. Second, why are you trying to mimic well-respected writers? Why are you not trying to develop your own style and improve upon that? Mimicking other people gets you nowhere unless you know why they did a particular thing. Third, don't brag. It's even more important to refrain from bragging if you are not actually that good. I have noticed a tendency for people who are better at what they do to insist that they suck, while people who suck tend to insist that they are the best ever. I am sure I am not alone in this observation. Once again, this feels a lot like a Piers Anthony thing, except with rather less self-congratulations.

In it are amazing characters, a potentially great plot, and an effective use of language and I wish that this story can be just as influential as many of the novels you’ve read in your lifetime.

Let the thing speak for itself. Stop insisting that it's great when it very well might not be. If someone else is trying to recommend your fanfic, then sure, they can sing its praises all they want, but don't wax poetic about your own fanfic.

It is greatly moving if you revere it, criticize it heavily, and, in the end, make me a better writer and a better person.

Shut up about it.

Thank you for taking the time out to read this fic, this masterpiece, this work of aesthetic quality that deserves both appreciation and reverie.

I haven't read it! I might not read any more of it than is in this post! Also, it's almost certainly NOT A MASTERPIECE! It's not a masterpiece unless you are done with it and are becoming a master of it. You... probably aren't! You're probably still trying to improve upon your writing until maybe you do eventually churn out a masterpiece, but this probably isn't it.

Keep in mind, that for disclaimer purposes, this work is entirely fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

Doubt you need a disclaimer for this. This is the type of small-print stuff that goes near the title page or in a corner or something. Doesn't need to go in the letter to the reader. You probably don't even need a letter to the reader, actually.

The following is an excerpt from the first chapter, "Genesis."

I could say something about how this is kind of pretentious but I think I've repeated that enough over the course of this post!

I sat up, ran my hand through my hair, and shook my head, trying to get my locks of hair out of my line of sight. I lifted the sheet off my bed, threw it on the floor, and slid my feet into my slippers. I slowly arose out of bed and plodded to my bathroom. I rubbed my tired, baggy eyes and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

This does not flow at all. This, my friend, is choppy writing. It does not transition between each sentence: it does not flow. You also probably do not need a great deal of this detail! I can assume that your character got out of bed and put something on: you do not need to tell me.

My eyes were completely bloodshot, dark circles developing underneath.

Why does this need to be its own sentence?

Insomnia was beginning to become my best friend. I turned the faucet and no water spewed from the tap. I nudged the faucet to see if the water would come out, but it was to no avail. I began to jimmy it, shaking the faucet rapidly in a bit of an angered rage, but no dice. My parents probably didn't pay their water bill again. Great.

I don't have any reason to care for the narrator at this point. Also, "rapidly in a bit of an angered rage" is wordy and does not entirely make sense. 'rapidly in a fit of an angry rage' sounds slightly better but is still redundant. It's rage! Of course it's angry. Don't treat the readers like they're morons.

Don't worry…I can make it work.

Don't care, Mr. Disembodied Voice! Although there isn't really anything pointing at it being a disembodied voice thus far.

After hearing the voice speak inside my mind

It's a voice. Of course it speaks.

the faucet turned on by itself and water began to spew from the tap smoothly, even if the faucet was turned completely clockwise, which was odd.

No, I thought that was completely normal. 'began to spew' is passive: replace it with 'spewed' although I'm not sure if you wanted the connotations of vomit. Words mean things. Choose words that carry connotations that you desire for the mood.

I looked around with shifty eyes,

As opposed to looking around with your feet. 'I looked around shiftily' would be better, but you really need some transitions between sentences.

trying to interpret what was going on.

The tap's magically on. Find a reason for it: don't try to just figure out what's happening. It's obvious what's happening!

I shook my head once more and opened my medicine cabinet. In it lay seven different types of sleeping medicines, shaving cream, razors, and other crap.

'crap' is a bad choice of word for the scene: it's jarring. There is also no reason for why that is two sentences! Conjunctions exist for a reason: use them.

I grabbed my toothbrush and squirted some toothpaste (which was conveniently on the sink) onto the bristles and began to brush my teeth. I was tired, so my movements were not thorough.

I don't care about the main character brushing his teeth. Why do we need to know this?

Suddenly, a bright, blue, pulsating aura surrounded my toothbrush and the thing brushed my teeth all by itself. Somehow amazing, but mostly just weird.

Still don't really care. What effect are you trying for with the fragment? The rest of the piece thus far is entirely detached and does not convey a sense of confusion. If the character is meant to be confused, then you might want to show it. This is first-person, is it not? Use it.

I was quite bewildered, but on the other hand––which may sound more logical––I'm just delusional.

You changed tenses partway through that sentence, and this is still emotionless. You say the character's bewildered, but I don't get that impression from anything. Show, don't tell.

I splashed water on my face, fully waking me up.

Choppy and I still have no reason to care.

I wasn't delusional; the toothbrush was brushing my teeth all by itself!

And here marks the first slightly-emotional line in this. Why were there no exclamation points earlier in this? It'd've made sense and would have led to it not being mentally read in a monotone.

I opened my mouth and the toothbrush moved aside so I can spit the toothpaste out. I filled my small, six-ounce cup with water and spat out the remaining toothpaste and smiled at myself in the mirror, checking for any missed spots. Somehow, my teeth were even whiter than they were before. This was incredible, but above all, the weirdest thing I have ever seen in my eighteen years of living.

So we're however far in through this bland prose and the character has just finished brushing his teeth. Get to the point, please: I am so totally bored.

It disappeared a nanosecond after I looked at the faucet.

'nanosecond' is an exaggeration that does not fit with the rest of the mood thus far. Either use some slang in the narration or don't use it at all. Also, still choppy.

The morning just began, and already it was off to a weird start.

So you say, but if I just went off of your character's reactions, this would be completely normal.

I looked at my alarm clock, it was working properly.

Comma splice.

Ah dammit.

is jarring!

My parents didn't pay the electric bill either.

So he's entirely fine with blaming his parents for everything? That's kind of ridiculous, especially given that he's apparently eighteen.

I turned off the light switch to prevent any danger from happening.

Read this line to yourself and see if it sounds ridiculous to you. It certainly sounds ridiculous to me!

"What the hell?" I inquired towards the heavens, my hands in the air, further showing that I was completely bewildered by the day’s events.

Show, don't tell. He's not bewildered: he's mildly confused but doesn't really care. I'm not going to trust the narrator over my own instincts.

I scanned the area for something electrical in the area. But there was nothing to be found.

There's no apparent reason for this to be a sentence and a fragment.

I was a bit disturbed, but if there were someone in the city who was kind enough to do this, then by all means, I definitely would let him do so. God knows my parents wouldn't do this. They probably got wasted last night, as usual, and forgot to take on their parental responsibilities and pay their damn bills and nurture their son.

Infodump.

I gathered my belongings and began packing. Apparently, today was the day that I would receive my companion for life. They were called "Pocket Monsters," better known as Pokémon. I had anticipated this moment all my life; it was the day of my legal emancipation from my parents. I had saved enough money from my job working as a busboy at the diner to provide for myself and my partner, and perhaps a traveling fellow Trainer whom I may encounter from time to time. I was nothing but prepared for this life-changing event.

Larger infodump.

The light bulb didn't flicker off, but as I left and closed my door, it did.

What?

My room was bare; all my possessions were in a bag slung over my shoulder.

That should be a colon, not a semicolon.

I walked into the living room, which was also my parents' bedroom. Liquor bottles, cans of beer, and other forms of alcohol were scattered about. My parents were on the floor, completely hung over, holding bottles of whiskey in their hands. My father's bottle was dripping, a puddle of the smelly crap forming underneath. I trudged to the kitchenette and saw that there were no paper towels, napkins, nor any kind of liquid absorber whatsoever. Home sweet home, huh?

whine whine my parents never loved me :'[ I shall cry a single tear

No point in telling them "good-bye." Half the time, they didn't even care about their own damn son, more so not knowledgeable of the fact that they even have one. I put one hand on the doorknob, took one last look around the apartment, and closed it, leaving the key to it on the table at the entrance.

Good-bye.

Then why did it have the 'goodbye' at the end? So he doesn't care except that he does?

why did I take the time and effort to type this

 

[Falthor]

All right then, I'll get to work. Trust me, I think that for the best, I'd rather not show up in this forum for a year or so. Let me take my Creative Writing class and see where that takes me.

 

[Ruby]

Read books that are about clear writing.

 

[Falthor]

Any book recommendations?

 

[Ruby]

I always recommend The Complete Plain Words by Gowers but it is incredibly boring unless you are interested in what he says.

 

[Falthor]

(I actually can't believe there are books like this.)

By the way, you guys are harsh. I understand that you are being constructive (highly constructive), but from the tone of your posts, I can tell that you just want to bash me because my writing supposedly sucks. ¬¬ Further, I'm not trying to be pretentious, I'm using epigrams.

 

[Eevee]

that was not an epigram

epigrams are witty and relevant

that was just snobby and pointless

btw use of the word "epigram" makes you pretentious

 

[Vladimir Putin's LJ]

By the way, you guys are harsh. I understand that you are being constructive (highly constructive), but from the tone of your posts, I can tell that you just want to bash me because my writing supposedly sucks. ¬¬

What do you want nice crits or something.
Good crits are better when polite but they aren't meant to be nice, because we're (they're, in this case) pointing out what you're doing wrong. And your style really is overly descriptive and emotion-lacking, which makes the whole thing dull.

Also calling your own story an epic is a big no no.

 

[Falthor]

I'm not saying you guys are pricks. Jesus. Bring the walls down, please. I'm just saying, "From the TONE IN YOUR POSTS," you seem to be harsh, that's all.

 

[Ruby]

(I actually can't believe there are books like this.)

Like what?

 

[Falthor]

Well, books that you wouldn't expect to be about writing less than needed. I mean, one of my U.S. History required readings was a book called How to Read a Book, and I thought that there wouldn't be so many books about how to do things that you could otherwise learn in a classroom or independently.