Ill give you guys an excerpt from a book im writing. Im 14 and i think its horrible but heres a little bit from it. I know its alot but you dont have to read all or alot of it just the first couple of sentences. Please keep in mind i didnt edit or revise at all yet.
The boy rubbed his lips and gently placed the box into the hole he constructed. He stood up revealing how short he really was. He stood a merely five foot one at his fourteen years of age on this planet. He wasn’t ugly, but was at his “awkward” stage in his life. He pressed his hands down his body and touched the pocket of his faded jeans. His hands felt caroused and needed a good deal of lotion. He started walking back down his piece of tin he called home. His father was still in the woods, where he told Isaac he was, helping a friend with something. Isaac knew his dad was guzzling yet another six pack of beer with his buddies of decrypted minds and a bunch of sorry hearts for how they treated their lives. Isaac vowed to never let a drop touch his lips. He wanted his body to be a pure, unique sample of human life. His mother told him that alcohol was just a poison that killed slowly and silently. Isaac looked down at his feet as he walked. He trudged up to his trailer and opened the door that was partly off its latch. The living room of their trailer smelt old and musty. Isaac knew it held a lot of bad memories. The fridge was opened slightly and a beam of pale yellow light flashed out and illuminated the entire kitchen area. He took off his sneakers and twisted his ankles to release the cracks that he had been yearning for all day. He went to close the fridge door. On the door, it had a small piece of computer paper slid gently underneath his families Christmas photo when Isaac was only seven. He took it out and closed the fridge door as he took out a gallon of milk. He placed the note on the table and reached into his wooden cabinet. He touched a glass surface and pulled out the cup. He started reading the note as he poured the fluid into his cup. On it, which had clearly been written by his father, it stated that his friends Peter and Raymond came by asking for him. Isaac crumpled the note and sort of felt powerful doing it. His foot hit the rubbery pedal and the garbage can lid popped up, revealing two beer cans which his dad probably consumed last night. Isaac breathed out a deep mass of stress. It wasn’t that he wasn’t okay with his fathers drinking a couple of beers once in a while, it was just the thought that his dad continually hid them and thought Isaac didn’t notice. This maddened him that his father thought he was a fool. His father thought he was a dumb founded boy who day dreamed all day. Isaac saw different then his father. He wanted to be something artistic. He didn’t want to be a waste of life. He wanted his name to be known, up in lights on the headlines and on talk shows. He didn’t want to fade away as nothing.
The boy rubbed his lips and gently placed the box into the hole he constructed. He stood up revealing how short he really was. He stood a merely five foot one at his fourteen years of age on this planet. He wasn’t ugly, but was at his “awkward” stage in his life. He pressed his hands down his body and touched the pocket of his faded jeans. His hands felt caroused and needed a good deal of lotion. He started walking back down his piece of tin he called home. His father was still in the woods, where he told Isaac he was, helping a friend with something. Isaac knew his dad was guzzling yet another six pack of beer with his buddies of decrypted minds and a bunch of sorry hearts for how they treated their lives. Isaac vowed to never let a drop touch his lips. He wanted his body to be a pure, unique sample of human life. His mother told him that alcohol was just a poison that killed slowly and silently. Isaac looked down at his feet as he walked. He trudged up to his trailer and opened the door that was partly off its latch. The living room of their trailer smelt old and musty. Isaac knew it held a lot of bad memories. The fridge was opened slightly and a beam of pale yellow light flashed out and illuminated the entire kitchen area. He took off his sneakers and twisted his ankles to release the cracks that he had been yearning for all day. He went to close the fridge door. On the door, it had a small piece of computer paper slid gently underneath his families Christmas photo when Isaac was only seven. He took it out and closed the fridge door as he took out a gallon of milk. He placed the note on the table and reached into his wooden cabinet. He touched a glass surface and pulled out the cup. He started reading the note as he poured the fluid into his cup. On it, which had clearly been written by his father, it stated that his friends Peter and Raymond came by asking for him. Isaac crumpled the note and sort of felt powerful doing it. His foot hit the rubbery pedal and the garbage can lid popped up, revealing two beer cans which his dad probably consumed last night. Isaac breathed out a deep mass of stress. It wasn’t that he wasn’t okay with his fathers drinking a couple of beers once in a while, it was just the thought that his dad continually hid them and thought Isaac didn’t notice. This maddened him that his father thought he was a fool. His father thought he was a dumb founded boy who day dreamed all day. Isaac saw different then his father. He wanted to be something artistic. He didn’t want to be a waste of life. He wanted his name to be known, up in lights on the headlines and on talk shows. He didn’t want to fade away as nothing.