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Short story for L.A. class

Started by Thomas Barkshield, March 25, 2015, 04:07:08 AM

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Thomas Barkshield

This is a short story I wrote for L.A. class. I would appreciate any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
Our story begins alongside the river Moss, in the middle of Mossflower country. Timothy churchmouse had been poring over his battered old copy of the three mousekateers when his older brother John interrupted to inform Timothy that their mother had dinner on the table. Timothy leapt from the boulder upon which he had been sitting and raced towards his house. The two brothers began bantering and before long the were hurling insults at each other.
"Cant catch me dozeypaws!"
"Just watch me slimenose!"
By the time they reached their cottage on the outskirts of town they were out of breath and ravenously hungry. Supper was a simple affair; they shared the remnants of last night's dinner, a grayling that they had brought from the village grocer. After dessert, which consisted of an apple pie, Timothy's father stood up to make an announcement.
"I have decided that we shall take a trip down to the old abbey this weekend before it is demolished next month"
Cheers of jubilation from all greeted this. Timothy was especially exited until he realized the implications of his father's second statement. He decided to inquire further on the matter.
"What do you mean- demolished?" 
"The village council has decided that the land would be better used if the abbey was torn down and a shoe factory be erected in its place. " His father replied.
"They cant do that! Don't they know Martin the warrior lives there?"
"Son, son, that's just a tale for little dibbuns. You're a big boy now aren't you?
"But I've seen him in the belltower from the river!
"You say you've seen a lot of things from the river. "
"What about old man Macgregor? He said that Martin saved him from the bell that nearly fell on him."
"Bartholomew Macgregor isn't right in the head and you know it. Now off to bed, and when you wake up I don't want to hear any more stories about ancient warriors performing miracles. 
The following days dragged on for Timothy. English (where he teacher mad him write a short story) was the worst. By the time Saturday morning rolled along, he was near to bursting. The family packed a picnic lunch and hopped on the lorry that would take them to the Abbey.

When they at last reached Redwall, They were greeted by the rumbling of machinery. A contingent of lumberjacks in huge trucks had begun to clear the area around the Abbey. Timothy was so unshakeable about going inside despite the destruction the rest of the family had no choice but to comply. The fee to enter was practically nonexistent, and the family was soon inside the abbey grounds. The red sandstone that made up the bulk of the building had weathers the ages so well that from a distance one might be fooled into believing that the dwelling might still be busy with the bustling of brother and sister mice. The shattered windows and faded furniture told otherwise. They were walking through a hallway when Timothy saw a blue glow reflected off a mirror at the end of the corridor. He yelped at the sight, and it took a great deal of explaining to calm his mother down. When he told them that he thought it was the ghost of martin the warrior his father sighed and informed him otherwise.
"I thought I told you to forget all that nonsense about spirits and phantoms."
"But I saw it too! A blue figure like a misty mouse" Timothys brother piped in.
"Now don't tell me you've bought into that nonsense" reprimanded his father. "I'll hear no more of it. Perhaps luncheon by the pond with help clear your senses."
So they walked out the doors and into the orchard, and devoured a magnificent lunch that had been prepared by their mother. Timothy, as full of energy as he was, had been tired out by the days adventures. He decided to take a quick nap under the apple tree on which he had been leaning previously. The beasts that had been working on the clearing of the forest started to blast at some nearby trees, but timothy tries his best to regain some of his energy. He finally dosed off, finding an odd sort of music in the destruction around him. In his dreams he was visited by a warrior in shining armor, with a brave smile on his face and a shining sword in his paw. The mouse started to speak, and timothy hung on his every word.
"Do not sleep young warrior, for you are in terrible danger!"
At that moment Timothy jerked awake, narrowly avoiding a large trunk of tree that landed right where his head had been not two seconds ago. There was of course a great deal of anger towards the woodcutters, and his father decided to go back inside. Timothy had trouble getting everyone attention, but when he did, his story was met by disbelief.
"It was martin, I'm sure it was! He told me to get up, and if he hadn't, well then, I mighta died!"
"Stuff and nonsense! If you insist on telling stories, then we shall leave at once." His father said.
He made as if to walk away then and there, but Timothy gave such a heartfelt apology, his father had no choice but to let him stay a little longer, on the condition that his mouth stay shut on any matters concerning Martin the warrior. The next stop was the great hall but when they arrived there, they were sorely disappointed. The tables that had once filled the room had long rotted away, and even the Famous tapestry was filthy and full of holes. There were two rusting iron brackets, between which a plaque lay. On it was written the following:

Here once stood the sword of martin the warrior. Lost shortly after the last abbot of Redwall died, few pictures and drawings remain. A replica is currently being made to replace it, but Because of the lack of source material, it is not expected to be finished before the abbey is destroyed.
The friends of Redwall Abbey society

Timothy sighed. Of all the things, he had wanted to see the sword the most. He felt an urge to state the resemblance between the mouse in his dreams and the one on the tapestry, but he had agreed not to talk about such matters. The final place they decided to see was the belltower. The interior was ruined from the falling of the Methuselah bell, but it had been cleared away and new flooring installed. After a quick peek, they heard a creak and a rumble. The beams that held the Matthias bell had weaken dover the years, and now they began to crack. There was enough warning for everyone to get out, but when the bell fell, it went straight through the floor and into a hidden chamber that had been under the tower. Timothy, who immediately interpreted it as a sign from martin, leapt into the newly opened room. It was by no means small, but it was only the size of an average living room. The bell had fallen directly onto a stone coffin, and had broken through the lid to reveal a suit of armor, clutching a round shield and, much to the disbelief of all, a shining longsword. There could be no doubt that this was martins battle armor and weapon. This was in fact, the tomb of martin where nearly 400 years before the last abbot of Redwall had sealed away these things to keep the safe. Martins skeleton was nowhere to be found, but the reader may wish to know that he was reburied under the very tree that Timothy had taken his lunch under earlier that day. Through a series of events that space does not permit me to describe, The Churchmouse family saved the abbey with the help of some other enthusiasts. Thereafter many of the remaining monks in the area flocked to Redwall and it again became a place of peace and healing. Timothy Churchmouse grew up to be a wealthy owner of a shoe factory, and through his fortune ensured that the abbey would stay open to all for many years thereafter.




Gonff the Mousethief

I really enjoyed this story! A very interesting take. The only thing I have else to day is there are a few spelling errors, and the last paragraph seem jumbled together and I didn't really know what was going on. Overall, a great little story!
I want the world of Tolkien,
The message of Lewis;
The adventure of Jacques,
And the heart of Milne.
But I want the originality of me.



Captain Tammo

I absolutely love the concept of visiting the abbey as a sort of old historic site not in use any more, like touring a castle in Europe! As Gonff stated, there are a couple of spelling errors. But there were a few other things that stuck out to me in particular...

You use a semicolon somewhere towards the middle of the story that could be converted to a period. I don't think you really need a semicolon there (usually, semicolons replace the "and" or "because" in a phrase, or could replace a period if you have two sentences that could be easily combined), but someone who is more skilled in grammar may say otherwise.

There were several instances, particularly in the beginning paragraphs before visiting the abbey, where you need to add commas. I'd suggest looking over those paragraphs again after getting a refresher on when and where writers should put their commas.

A third thing that I found which may not help you get a good grade is saying right in your paper that you don't like your teacher for assigning the short-story. While they may not take off points for that, it may get them a little frustrated and cause them to grade a tad more harshly (I'm speaking form personal experience).

Has your teacher read Redwall? If not, maybe you should mention that Martin the Warrior is the savior of the abbey. It'll help clear things up a little :)

Overall, I think you've got a very interesting concept (it's certainly got me thinking!) and you're pretty good at telling a story with a limited length you can write. Just make a few minor corrections like what Gonff and I have mentioned and I think you'd have a solid A+ on your hands! :)
"Cowards die a thousand times, a warrior only dies once. The spirits of all you have slain are watching you, Vilu Daskar, and they will rest in peace now that your time has come. You must die as you have lived, a coward to the last!" -Luke the warrior

Thomas Barkshield

My teacher knows about Redwall, and says he despises it. I like to write about it to annoy him, and he doesn't mind. He has a good sense of humour, so I'm not too worried about the fun poking. I can fix the spelling with the best tool in a writers toolbox: A mother who's willing to help you fix spelling and grammar.

Gonff the Mousethief

 :o He hates Redwall! Why, why, ugh! Hope your mother likes it at least.
I want the world of Tolkien,
The message of Lewis;
The adventure of Jacques,
And the heart of Milne.
But I want the originality of me.



Skyblade

Very nice story and writing :) I really like this idea and it's too bad you didn't have enough space to go deeper into how Timothy and his family saved the Abbey. Good work here!

Thanks, MatthiasMan, for the avatar!