₦airaland Forum

Her titles that I love are too numerous to count.

However, James Hadley Chase is another great writer that depicts scenes clearly without using a wasted word.

Bluespce: Thanks!!!

The novel FEDDIE GIRL is about the experiences and adventures of an American teenager that is enrolled in a Nigerian Federal school. You can read more excerpts and reserve a copy of the novel at http://bernardbooks.com

Also see: Feddie Girl's Blogs http://joanpeck.
Reason and motivation to blog about this upcoming novel is to enable readers and fans of the novel get to know the major character personally. The blog is written in the voice and seen through the eyes of this American teenager (Aka Feddie Girl). She communicates directly with her fans and periodically updates interesting bits of information about her personal life and family.

Come-on people, I'm still waiting for feedback!!

Good story. I can't believe I followed it to the end. Lol!!!

I guess because you were posting from a cell phone, the formatting is all screwed-up.
There are several points that need fixing, which I'm sure you'll catch when you do your redraft.

Good Luck!!!

LOL!!!!!

Chidinma, that's a very funny story. Is it based on a true happening or is it merely fiction?

I'm not sure if you wanted it critiqued or posted it just for entertainment. You let me know and I'll get back to it.

All the best!

Hey,

Where is the story?

Hi Einstein,

The story is certainly interesting, and I love the way you've tried to develop it. There are parts that are a little confusing and would need more description to make the action clear.
However, I love the writing style, it's really engaging.

Thanks for sharing this piece.

Hi Kay29000

I just finished reading Chapter 1 of your story and thought I'd drop you a few lines:

You've got a good story going with a nice plot but there are some problems that need attention as you make your redrafts and editing.

You still have a lot of grammar and punctuation issues to deal with on this piece.
The dialogue is a little clumsy and will need polishing to give it the required punch!
The story itself can be tightened. Basically you can convey the scene you've presented with fewer words and stronger verbs, etc.

All these aside, I engoyed reading your story. thanks for sharing!

Writers hone their skill and improve by reading others works and by writing all the time.

It might be a good idea to form a union like Crazy suggested, but why don't we start by viewing and critiquing some of the already posted works of some of us here on the forum?

If everyone is waiting for someone to start, then I will.

I have posted an excerpt from a new novel titled "FEDDIE GIRL (An Adventure/Thriller set in Nigerian Federal School)" in the 'Writers: Post your stories, Poems, Scripts, etc for review' thread. I'd really appreciate some serious feedback on this piece.

So, lets start and go from there. That way, the critics amongst us can really see how serious we are with wanting to form a mutually beneficial union/group for Nairaland Writers.

Thanks!!!

[size=16pt][center]Who Could He Be?[/size]

In the mid-night I saw a face;
That in my heart occupies a space,
Although it was dim;
I realized it was him.

Who could this gentleman be;
That means so much to me,
His presence makes me so glad;
His absence leaves me so sad.

He is much better than silver and gold;
The type that can never be sold,
I think of him throughout daylight;
And dream of him all through the night.

Upon all the wrong that he has done;
There is still so much that could be borne,
For his smile leaves a mark on my heart;
While his frown takes my heart apart.

Although I question who he his;
I feel like I'll know him through his kiss,
For having given myself up to the mystery of love;
The least I can expect in return is to be loved.[/center]

[size=16pt]Excerpt from FEDDIE GIRL, a novel by Nona David (Copyright, Jan 2009)[/size]


[b]
Although the next morning dawned bright and clear, Carlotta was apprehensive in the presence of her new classmates. Having to attend a foreign all girls’ boarding school was not too bad. What she loathed about school period was the deafening and head aching quarrels her classmates indulged in when there wasn't a teacher in the classroom. It was only 8:45am, and already, they were at it again. This time, they were bickering and fighting each other over what cities and towns in Nigeria were the best places to grow up in. When words weren’t enough, the students resorted to hurling missiles in the form of books, combs, and school sandals.

As if anyone cares where others grow up, Carlotta thought, miserably. She’d lived her whole life in the United States and hadn’t been able to do a thing about it when her parents decided to ship her off to boarding school in Nigeria as punishment for getting expelled from middle school.

The noise was beginning to make her head ache. She depressed her vibrating eyeballs with the heel of her palms, hoping to keep them from falling out of their sockets, and was wondering how the girls were able to keep-up the racket when a particularly loud bang surprised her into snapping her eyes open.

A furious looking male teacher stood at the classroom door.

The girls stopped fighting at once. The screeching was cut off from the throats of two students—like a raging fire abruptly doused with water. One final sandal arched high above the heads of the students and landed squarely in the middle of the blackboard with a loud thud, then skidded mournfully down to the ground. Several girls scuttled back to their seats. Ndidi and her cohorts scrambled down from their lockers.

When all was calm, the class stared sheepishly at the dark male teacher leaning against the doorframe. He considered them for a while, his handsome face devoid of expression. Without much show of annoyance, he strolled into the classroom and stood before the students.
"I am not going to inquire into the cause of the noise," he declared, "but this is a classroom, and it is time for my lesson." He walked over to the blackboard and picked up the lone sandal. "Who lost this?" he asked in a scathing tone, holding the rubber footwear aloft by the tips of his forefinger and thumb, dangling it like an offending rodent for the whole class to see.

A chubby girl slowly walked up to him, like one would to a dangerous dog. "Please Sir, it's mine," she breathed, and held out a hand for the shoe. He cast a wary eye at her, snorted, and dropped the sandal in her hand. The girl clutched the shoe and scurried back to her seat.
The teacher sneered, turned abruptly and picked up the duster. With a swift swipe of his left hand, he wiped the board clean. His right hand moved with lightening speed and he wrote the word 'Mathematics' on the board with a piece of white chalk. Then he whirled around in one fluid motion and began to teach.

His movements seemed so effortless; his actions— electrifying; voice—spellbinding. There was no beep from the class during the entire lesson. The students were caught up in the fast paced action of his teaching. They watched in fascination as he stabbed and slashed at the blackboard with the chalk, whipping-up seemingly intoxicating mathematical symbols and equations from thin air. The math teacher was the performer; the mesmerized class his spectator.

Not until the bell rang did Carlotta realize she hadn’t grasped a thing from the class. The Math teacher had raced through his lesson in a well-meaning tactic to revise the basic math skills he felt the students should have already acquired. He had breezed through even and odd numbers, and the rules of addition and subtraction. After those came multiplication and division. Then types of fractions. Simple proportions. Percentages. Finally, it had come to algebra and the real lesson had commenced.

The Math teacher had sauntered out of the class as soon as the bell rang, leaving an awed class behind him. He hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself to the class.

A stunned silence followed the teacher’s departure until someone broke the spell by saying,

"Please, what was his name?"

"Mr Wesley Iorshimbe-Ngongngong," someone offered.

"Mr Wesley what?" another girl quipped?

"Wesley Snipes!" Joyce snapped at her. "Are you deaf?"

The girl gave Joyce a reproachful look.

"Come to think of it, that Mathematics teacher is a real Snipes.” Nelly laughed. “Wait, he even looks like the real Wesley Snipes," she said, when she was able to catch her breath.

Several girls laughed too.

That opened the floodgates. In excited tones, the students started comparing the Math teacher's movements to that of Wesley Snipes' ingenious stunts in the 'Blade' movies. They got so wrapped-up in their stories they lost track of time, until Rosemary the class prefect announced in dismay, "You girls, it's time for Integrated Science, and it says here on the time-table that we are supposed to go to the Biology Lab for the lesson."

They were already six minutes late. Lockers were opened and banged as the students reached for their science text and notebooks. In a flash, most of them were out the door.

"Biology Lab, Carlotta. Let's go," Ossie apprised as she picked up her books, shut her locker with a bang, and ran for the door.

"Hey, wait up!" Carlotta called to Ossie, "I dunno where to find the Biology Lab!" In a rush, she picked up a heavy textbook she assumed was for Integrated Science and bolted out the door after her classmates.
[/b]

Please leave a comment. Thanks!!!

My favorite authors are: John Grisham, Stephen King, James Patterson, Dean Koontz, Nora Roberts, Carl Hiaasen, Jackie Collins, Lisa Scottingdale, etc. [B]There is also Nona David, the author of the upcoming novel, FEDDIE GIRL!!![/b]