Read Here To Learn More About Mahogany Lap Writing

17 November 2010

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Critique on a excerpt from the novel that I am writing…?
This is a section of the novel that I am writing. Please critique it, though don’t be cruel, be constructive1. How old do you think I am?2. Do you like my writing style?3. Did you like it? What did you like about it?4. How can i improve it?Excert of Chapter Six: A beautiful sound started up somewhere close by. I raised my head and looked around for the source. Of course I found none, as I sat alone in my room. I stood up and stepped out into the hall turning my head up and down to see if I could place the source. This time I thought that I could tell where it was coming from. At the very end of the hall there was a door, a door that stood slightly ajar, a door that the beautiful sound seemed to be drifting from. I walked down the hallway as if in the dream. The sound was suddenly the only thing that mattered. I forgot about Holly, about William, and thought only of that enchanting noise.I pushed open the door and discovered that Holly was sitting on a large mahogany bench in front of a contraption that I had never seen before. It looked like a large wooden box the surface was a glossy deep mahogany and reflected Holly’s outline in a strange blurred fashion. The beautiful music flooded the room, filled my entire body, my heart, my soul, and brought with it a bittersweet feeling of pain and a strange sense of hopefulness.Holly’s slender fingers danced quickly over keys of ivory white and ink black, pushing them down and creating sounds that seemed to pierce my very heart. Holly swayed gently back and forth as she poured the essence of herself into the song. I stood at the doorway rooted to the spot. I couldn’t move and didn’t want to, for it felt as if the spell that the music had cast upon the room would break if I even dared to breath.I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, wash everything away until it was just me and the tinkling song playing in the background. When I opened my eyes I was aware that my cheeks were wet. I didn’t bother to wipe them away as I crept softly forward. I walked until I was right beside Holly. She did not look up but bent lower still over the instrument and played the tune with greater force and more volume. The rumbling music made me feel a pain that seemed to catch my heart in its claws and mangle it to the cruelest of its ability. I reached out and touched her shoulder gently with my hand. Holly leaned forward so that her thick shaggy hair concealed mahogany Lap Writing her face from my view but the tune morphed back into a mournful haunting sound that it had been before I had walked up beside her. Finally she hit the last key with her right hand and let the high note linger in the air. Holly didn’t look up but instead dropped her head down onto her hands which she had pressed to her lap. The sound of her smothered sobs took the place of the haunting melody. Without speaking I pressed one hand onto her back and moved it in soothing circles while she cried. She cried and cried for what seemed like ages until finally she seemed to get a hold of herself and was able to look up at me. Her eyes were bloodshot as if she had been holding the tears back for a long time, until they had finally spilled over; and her cheeks still glistened with wetness. She sniffled and wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her loose white blouse and then scooted over on the bench. I sat down beside her. “That was beautiful,” I said softly. Holly sniffed again and looked down at the black and white keys. “Thanks,” she said. “Aldrin’s been teaching me to play since before I was old enough to talk.” Tears still clung to her long brown lashes and she was breathing heavily. “What is it?” I asked. I reached up and pressed my index finger to a white key on the piano. The sound echoed loudly around the room. I pulled back quickly, frightened of having harmed such a beautiful instrument. “It’s a piano,” Holly said. She placed both of her hands on the piano’s keys and began to play. It was amazing to watch up close. Her left hand played a wide range of keys, jumping from one key to another much father down on the piano, then back to the previous, then stretching to another, sometimes playing three keys at the same time. The right hand notes stayed in a closer area and their sounds were higher than those of the left hand. “Wow,” I whispered. Holly looked up at me, her eyes dry at last. With her right hand she played a simple tune, trilling and delicate. I reached up and pressed the same keys on a lower level. I felt joy well in my heart as I realized that it sounded just like Holly had played it. “I could teach you, if you’d like,” Holly offered looking bemused at my delight over such a small accomplishment. “You’d do that?” I asked her softly. Holly nodded and laughed. “I didn’t say that I would cut out my heart and give it to you, I just said that I’d teach you to play piano.” “That would mean so much to me, Holly,” I said, my voice barely above whisper. “I take that asa yes,” Holly said. She started to play the song that she had been playing when I had first entered. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes. She stopped playing suddenly to wipe them away. “My mom wrote that piece.” I found that I could no longer look at Holly directly. I dropped my head and snuck a glance at her. She was staring at the keys, tears streaming down her face. “Your mother was very talented,” I said. Holly nodded and wiped her eyes again.“She really was,” she said. Holly’s fingers again found the piano. She ran them gracefully over the keys, still not looking at me. “I wish that she were alive.” “I’m sorry, Holly,” I said. “I really am. I never knew my mother either, or my father.” Holly looked up, her expression pained. “I’m sorry, here I am complaining about what’s happened to me to a person who’s gone through so much more.”“That’s not true,” I said. “And even if it were it doesn’t make your pain count any less.” Holly smiled sadly. “I just feel like a piece of me is missing. I love Aldrin, really, I do, but he’ll never replace my parents,” Holly said. I nodded. “I miss them too,” I said. “Even though I never knew my parents, I love them. And I feel like I’ve let them down.” “They would be proud of you,” Holly said, her eyes intensely trained on mine. “I know they would.” I doubted her words but did not lower my gaze. “And yours would be proud of you.” A heavy silence fell after that. And in that silence, we communicated more than we ever could have with words.Stuff that you should know:The narrator is a girl named Lily. She was taken from her parents when she was jsut three days old. Aldrin is Holly’s grandfather. Her parents were murdered when she was about two and she has been raised by him ever since.Holly and Lily have a very special sort of bond. They haven’t known each other for a very long time but are bond more tightly than they even know.Lily has been hidden away from the world as Holly knows it since she was taken from her parents. She knows about history and stuff but not the simple, beautiful things. Basically she was being raised in a school that trains witches from a young age to beocme cold ruthless killers. She just escaped….Hehe, sorry if this didn’t make since, this is chapter six after all. i didn’t want to post anything that gave too much away or was too actiony.
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