This is part of a "Learn By Fail" series I'll be doing once a week in which I attempt to edit and fact check her book in an effort to teach others how to write, it's also because... well, because she's insane and frustrating and I need this!
Dougal nudged me slightly and I realized that I had fallen asleep. (Nice way to timeskip... No, it's not, it just gets rid of time that could've been used on character development.) “Your mother is here”, he said to me, quietly helping me get up (Speaking to you is being quiet?) and carrying my things for me. (;) He truly was an amazing man. I looked at the car that had just pulled up, my mother jumped out as soon as she had the car in park and came over to us. (She's sure in a rush, the next scene just confirms this.)
“Rissa,” (How do you get Rissa out of the word Anarsa? I could understand Anna, or even Narsy, but Rissa?) she said and wrapped me in her arms, “how are you feeling? Better? Worse?” (Okay, just because some authors don't think you should capatilize the he or she after quotations doesn't mean you do the same thing in quotations when continuing the quote...) she asked me as she took my things from Dougal. “Thank you Doug,” she said using her personal nickname for him that both of us hated. (Both of us, who? Her and her mom? Her and Dougal? Also, with a name like Dougal I'm sure the mom isn't the only one who's ever used it. A personal nickname is something only that person calls you, like when Lulu calls me "Kitness". I sometimes joke and say "I'm the Kitness", but no one else does.) “You are such a good guy, I’m glad she’s dating you and not some jerky jock.” Well at least she was trying to give him a complement, (No comma needed.) and trying to show that it made her happy that he was looking after me. (New paragraph!) Trying was the keyword. My mother was still getting used to me being heterosexual, (Okay, if I didn't know her mom was lesbian in this story, this would confuse me. It still doesn't make sense: heterosexuality is the society norm, and just because you're raised with two homosexual or heterosexual parents doesn't mean you turn out the same way. Her mom should've been expecting it; sure her daughter would understand better than most that you don't choose love, but still...) and her discomfort around men always showed around Dougal, and any other boy I had dated. (... Her mom should've been expecting it, apparently she's been dating boys for awhile.) “Your mom is worried about you, she’s home to stay for the day(.) I’ve got to go back to work, I would stay home with you(,) but I have a horrible deadline tonight that I’m not ready for,(;) but mom will take good care of you as always.” (Okay, two uses of the word mom from the mom talking... I understand she has two moms... but this is something that needs to be fixed. Wouldn't they be confused? Why isn't one "mom" and the other "momma"? Can someone help me out here?) She said and gave me another hug and ushered me to the car. “Bye Dougal,” She said to him as she got into the car and I waved at him as my mother drove me home. (Way to rush through sentences without fleshing them out...)
“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” my (... Should I go through and mark that all of these need to be capitalized?) mother asked after I was tucked under blankets in the living room on the couch, fretting over me,(;) I assumed this was normal as I was her only child. (Another lovely time skip!)
“She is fine, Joy, (; or .) I won’t let anything happen to her and I’ll be right here with her.” My mom said to her, well my other mother (Told you it was confusing.), (; or .) Joy was my biological mother, my other mother is Cassy. The two of them are the only parents that I had ever known, (; or .) I had not realized that people did not have two moms(,) that they had one mom and one dad(,) until I started kindergarten. I was not Cassy’s only child(;), she had a son from before she met my mom, a long while before. When Cassy was sixteen she had been raped and had gotten pregnant(Okay, this makes me wince... it also makes me wonder how well this fact is known in the family. You don't just go around telling your children that you were raped and you never wanted them.), she had given birth to a son who was named Michael. Michael is my only sibling(,) but with him being sixteen years older (Wait... Hold on, math time... If Cassy was sixteen years old when she got pregnant, then sixteen years later they had a kid who is nearly sixteen years old now... Also, notice the repeating number, then Cassy is forty-eight now!) than me(,) I only ever saw him and his boyfriend (Oh, no wonder her one mom was worried she wasn't homosexual as well; she seemed to think it really does run in the family... Thank you for making it harder for the homosexuals to fit into society with your misinformation!) on the holidays, (; or .) well he would come to help me with makeup for homecoming and such (That made me flinch... Seriously, gay men have other talents and not all of them are awesome at make up, or, and a , here) but other than that I never saw him, James, or their three adoptive children. (It's okay when your brother adopts, but not you?)
( When I first read this I screamed "fact check" to myself, as a result, I have two little rants that need to go here... She named her character Anarsa, after a Hindu pastry, but she has her two moms with normal names, and her older brother with a normal name. It would make sense if she had this name because she's part Indian, but she is clearly a white girl... Why the strange name? Honestly: do not make your character have a funny name just so they're a special little snowflake. If they have an odd name, address it, because I guarantee someone made fun of them growing up and it's a sensitive issue.
My mothers looked at each other, having one of their silent conversation moments that they often had. Then my mom leaned down, kissed my forehead, and headed to the door(,) reminding me of all the times she had done that when I was a kid. (So she stares at your other mom, kisses you, and leaves, and says nothing? She does this often enough you remember your mom just kissing your forehead and leaving you without a "good-bye" or "I love you?" Also, you should say which mom... and why use their names? Seriously, pick: mom, momma, or real names.) Cassy sat on the couch where there was space for her(,) smiled at me(,) and brushed my hair out of my face. “Is there anything you want me to get you? A soda to calm your stomach?” she asked quietly. (In my family, Coke was remedy to stomach ailments.)
“Saltines(,)” I said quietly in response “and maybe some of the orange carrot juice (Thank you for letting me know what color carrot juice is; no, seriously, thank you. I would've been wondering if it had been made of yellow or purple carrots. Also, saying "the orange carrot juice" implies she really did want it instead of, perhaps, "the white carrot juice".),(;) I think that will make me feel better.” I rolled over as Cassy stood up and kissed my forehead(,) then headed into the kitchen. (Wait... she rolled over as she was standing and kissing your forehead at the same time...? Were you avoiding the kiss for some reason?) I closed my eyes and began to think again. Seeing Cassy made me wonder how she had done it, how had she decided to not only continue the pregnancy but to actually keep the baby. I could never keep the baby I conceived through rape. I was not (... Conjunctions are your best friend, use them.) even sure I was going to keep the baby that I conceived through love. (You conceived it through love, but abortion is your option ahead of adoption? Abortion is a tough issue, and I understand both sides of the argument, but still...) So how did she do it? (She's a stronger woman than you? You said she was sixteen, right? Apparently she did well enough to raise her son on her own so he grew up to be successful enough that even though he's unmarried he could convince and adoption agency to give him not just one but three kids.) I opened my eyes with a start as Cassy placed her hand on my shoulder (This is how you fall asleep thinking.) . I looked up at her, her brown eyes looking concerned, my drink and saltines in her hand. “Thanks mom,” I said sitting up and taking the stuff (Such a descriptive word...) from her.That is the end of this chapter, this is no more of this chapter. What saddens me is that towards the end of the first half of this chapter it felt like she might be getting the hang of writing; I've read the other two chapters that are up, from this point on she just gave up.
“You’re welcome sweetie.” She said with a smile.
“Hey mom?” I said(,) and she tilted her head to the side(,) which was her way of saying ‘yes?’ (Like a puppy? Most people go "hmm?" when they do that.) “How come you didn’t get an abortion when you were pregnant with Michael,(?) I was thinking about it and I was just wondering how you not only didn’t get an abortion but didn’t give him up for adoption either; I don’t think I could have done either.” (Wait, she just said she couldn't have either not gotten an abortion or not adopted... Also, I told you it was common knowledge in this household that Cassy had been raped. Micheal grew up and was raised with the knowledge that his father had forced himself on his mother.)
Cassy looked at me for another few moments(,) then sat down on the couch with me again(,) brushing her very short brown hair behind her ear.(See, this is how you describe people: little bits and pieces at a time, unless they make a dramatic entrance and the character is shocked by their looks.) “What brought this up?” she asked, “It never seemed to interest you before now.” (Of course it didn't; what fourteen year old wants to know something like this?)
“In class we were talking about abortion(,) and I remembered that you got pregnant with Michael because of rape. (Rape makes you think abortion? Well, considering that's a common pro for abortions, I understand, but still... It just reminds me about this one story Cathrin wrote where our Mythology teacher, her English teacher the year before, raped her... It was all made up of course, just a way to get a different conflict in, but still...)” I said quickly(,) beginning to wish I had not started this conversation. (I wish you hadn't either, I feel squicky now. This is a sensitive subject and should only be brought up when the person who was raped wants to talk about it...)
“Well, after it first happened I was very ashamed and would not tell anyone. My parents would have never accepted that their little girl could have been raped,(;) that only happened to other girls who were asking for it, wearing slutty clothes. (This whole part right here makes me very sad... and wish for pauses in descriptive breaks. You know: she said as she frowned, eyes dazed and unfocused as she thought back on what had happened.) And (Get rid of the and.) I knew that they would disown me because no little girl of theirs was going to be a slut. (Are they really that bad? They would disown her over rape?) So for fear of being out on the streets I didn’t say a word, (get rid of the comma) to anyone, not even my girlfriend at the time. My parents also didn’t know that I was gay,(;) they(,) being the (remove this the) upstanding members of (the) community(, also, they are The Upstanding Members of Community!) would not allow me to be gay, (;)they would have sent me somewhere that would have gotten the ‘gay’ out of me. (Personally, I'm just sad places like those exist...) So obviously, I was not very close to my parents. (Obviously.) Anyway, when about two months after I was raped I realized that I had not gotten my period yet. (... It took her two months to notice? I'd be like "eh, it's late" after two weeks, then worried after a month "do I need to see a doctor, am I sick?" then suspicious after a month and a half. She says it like one day she woke up, went to the bathroom, saw the box of tampons and went "Huh, haven't used those in a while...") This was just another thing that would kill my relationship with my parents (You mean it was still alive after having to hide your sexuality from them and having them think rape victims were sluts?) ,(;) teen pregnancy was a very horrible thing to them, (:) any sex before marriage was horrible,(; or .) so naturally I would be disowned if they found out so I went to the nearest abortion clinic and talked to one of the councilors (I think she means counselor, these words sound the same but are very different.) there, (.) it was the first time I had told anyone about the rape, and I told her that if I were to keep the baby that I was sure I was pregnant with(,) then I would have no home and no way to take care of the baby (it could've worked... you never want to overuse adjectives or nouns, imagine if every he and she were the person's name.) . I had always been taught that abortion was wrong, that it was murder(,) but here I was sixteen and pregnant,(;) and what was I going to do? Raise the baby on the street?
“After talking for a while(,) she told me to keep thinking about what I wanted to do. She knew I wasn’t sure that I wanted to get the abortion. (;) I wasn’t sure about it because I knew that I would probably never get pregnant again,(.) I had already known that I was gay(, also... it always seems odd to use gay for lesbians...) and had dated several girls at my school(,) and I knew that one day I would want to be a mother(;) and (but would work instead) I didn’t see a way to do that. Obviously Adoption was not (hadn't would work instead, and sound better) occurring (occured, this happened in the past) to me in any way, shape, or form,(; or .) I wasn’t thinking (I want to replace this with considering) that later in life I could adopt(,) or that maybe I could give the baby up. But again most of all of(pick one, most of or all of) this runs (comes would work better) back to how I had been raised.
“So for several days I sat at home thinking about what I wanted, (;)did I want to throw away my only chance at having a baby?(get rid of the ? put a comma, and keep on trucking.) Or was I willing to find a way to be a mother to my child? In the end I decided to keep the baby,(; or .) I knew that my parents would kick me out(, also, they are the worst parents in the world.) so I just left one night and left them a note. I found a church and they got me in a home (I flinched, I know I did. I lived in one of these homes, there's basically only one in the area where Cathrin lives, and it's the same one I lived at. They're an orphanage which also helps teen moms and homeless teenagers; they are also zealously religious and I got in severe trouble just for hugging a friend of mine. A girl there wound up pregnant... you don't want to know how they treated her.) with people who helped me though my pregnancy and helped me stay in school after high school. If it wasn’t for them I would never have met you’re (your, otherwise this is: I would never have met you are mother) mother, (and) I never would have gone to college.” She smiled at me. “Abortion is a very controversial thing(,) Rissa, but when it comes down to it, it is that person’s decision.” She kissed my four head. (You wrote forehead twice and slip up now? Also, are both of these moms interchangeable? They seem to have the same habits and "personal nicknames".)
“Thanks mom,” I said to her(.) and (get rid of the and, I) watched her walk over to her laptop(,) which was sitting on the loveseat on the other side of the room. (I want more of this sentence. Is she surfing? Working?) Cassy was always a little bit more down to earth then my (other) mother (, Joy,) was, (;) a little less worrying (worried. Keep tense in mind.) about things then(than. Really, don't mix these two. Than is the difference between things, then is describing time.) mom. “Mom,” I said suddenly thinking about something. (Is this "I said, suddenly thinking about something" or "I said suddenly, thinking about something"? There is a difference.) “Couldn’t you have just done, (No comma) artificial insemination like mom (Hey mom, why aren't you like mom?) did with me? Or Invetro?” I had been convinced through artificial insemination, my moms had read through many different profiles of the ‘great’ attributes of the men (,) and decided on a sperm donor,(; or .) I had never really thought about it other then (than) when people asked me how I existed when I only had mom and my mom had never been with a man before. I knew I got my green eyes from my father and not my mother, (Actually they could have come from grandparents or a combination of genes reacting... You know what, I'm not even going to go into genetics...) my mother had blue eyes and almost platinum blond hair(,) so my hair must have came from my father too. (But your hair is blonde and blonde shades vary even in genetics... Wait, I said I'm not going into genetics... Just... No.)
Cassy looked back over at me as she opened her laptop again to begin working on her column again. (Again.) “When I was pregnant with Michael they didn’t exist, and maybe if they did I didn’t know about them.” (It's math and fact check time! First, the fact check: invetro became sensationalized in the news across the entire globe around 1978-1980 when the first couple was impregnated this way and later when the first official clinic opened, let's see... It's 2011 now, so I'll assume that's when this story takes place, minus sixteen years for Anarsa's age, and sixteen years more for Micheal's age... That is 1979, when it was in the news and everyone everywhere was talking about it. Also, most religious families, like the kind who think being gay is a sin, considered it be a crime against God; basically, it would probably be the most talked about thing in her household. Also, in the 70's the sperm bank industry and artificial insemination was commercialized, so there was no avoiding these two things. I think that about sums it up.) She answered(,) her fingers beginning to type away at her column. “Anything else Riss?”
“No(,) I think I’ve got it all covered now.” I said and (Start a new sentence here and get rid of the and.) munched on my saltines and juice. (;) I really did love this juice(,) it was one of my favorite things in the world, and so far the baby didn’t seem to mind that I was drinking it(,) which was good. (The baby shouldn't be protesting much of anything at this stage, there should be little to no nausea at all, let alone so bad that the only thing you can eat are crackers and carrot juice.) I looked down at my stomach as I munched. What am I going to do about you? (I flinched... This reminds me way too much of the pro-choice post going around from the point of view of the baby: "I love you mommy, you're so warm and happy. You talk to me. I'm sad, mommy, today daddy hit you, and you won't talk to me anymore. What's going on, mommy? I hurt, why is the doctor hurting me?" Oh gods I just made myself feel squicky...)I know Dougal would want you, he’s just that kind of guy. Am I the type of woman who would abort you? It’s not that I don’t want you, I do, it’s just that now is such a bad time,(;) I can’t support you, (get rid of comma, and) I can’t be a good mother to you, not now. I just want you to have everything and I can’t give you anything (And adoption is your second choice after abortion...?). (New paragraph!) I sighed as I finished eating my saltines and curled back up under the blankets(,) closing me(my. Are we Irish, now? Because I'm insulted if we are.) eyes. Pros of abortion: No one would ever need to know, (Oooh, I'll play this game too! Um, let's see: the child won't have to grow up in the system and be passed around from place to place feeling unwanted and unloved and end up as a broken shell of a human being. See, I can play this game, too.) Cons of abortion: guilt, possible self hatred, Dougal hating me. (Fact: most women who get an abortion say they would never do it again.) Pros of adoption: I wouldn’t be killing the baby, the baby would have good parents, I could have an open adoption. (You could see the baby again, if it was adopted by people you knew you could be part of their lives), Cons of adoption: Missing the baby, every one (everyone) would have to know, my grades would probably go down while pregnant (The baby could spend its entire life in the system and end up in an orphanage like the one I was at, also... if you're that concerned with missing the baby and the baby being happy, why even consider an abortion?). Pros of keeping the baby: Dougal wouldn’t hate me, and um Cons of keeping the baby: bad grades, having to get a job, every one (everyone) would have to know about the baby. There has got to be more then (than) those reasons for keeping the baby(,) right? If there wasn’t then there would not be so many teenage girls keeping their babies(,) would there? (Three words for you: Sixteen And Pregnant.)
Grammar lessons to remember:
Whenever you're not sure how something sounds, read it aloud to yourself; if something sounds stiff or just not right, fix it.
Conjunctions are your friend, if you wouldn't talk that way out loud, then don't write that way.
You're and your are different words, you're is you are. Say it out loud if you're not sure.
Then and than, there is a difference, mainly the difference between one meaning "and then this happened" and the other being the difference between two things, such as "I would rather eat chocolate than go to the dentist."
Also, everyone and every one is different. Everyone refers to all of a group of people, every one is saying all of one.
And as always, remember punctuation and spell check, and that only proper nouns are capitalized. See you next week for another lesson!
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