The Editor

Confused about your writing skills? Interested in improving your replies in a roleplay? Want some constructive criticism on that short story you wrote three weeks ago? You've come to the right place! Tracking: creativecritic

[creativecritic-blog]

out of edit;

Sorry for being away for so long, folks! 

I have a few submissions awaiting me, which I am not/will not neglect. Currently, however, I'm doing NaNoWriMo, so I'm a bit swamped.

All submissions will (hopefully) be answered in December. 

Thank you for your operation! 

[creativecritic-blog]

Untitled [Finn and Roger]

Hey so this is a backstory for one of my RP characters. It's a four part backstory, but this is half of part one. If you need more background, please message me! (Also, he's British, and I'm really bad at slang, so if you notice something that doesn't fit, please let me know.)

Alright, let's get started! As normal, issues will be bolded and talked about in block quote, each bullet addressing in order of the bolded words (first bolded word will be first bullet, etc etc). 

“Don’t look now,” muttered Roger, cocking his head subtly in the direction behind him, “but Lucy’s cousin’s obviously got a mad crush on you.”

            Beside him, Finn groaned and took a sip of his beer. Roger laughed.

            “What’s wrong, mate? She’s a right bit of totty.”

            Finn shook his head.

            “She’s seventeen.”

            “And you’re nineteen. Honestly, mate, she’s closer to your age than you are to mine.”

            “She’s Lucy’s cousin.”

            “That’s not stopping Ed.” He pointed to their friend who was sitting next to the American girl, his arm almost draped around her shoulders. The girl---Madison was her name, but she insisted on being called Maddie—shifted away, glancing towards Finn and Roger. Roger gave a little wave and she smiled at him, but the minute she caught Finn’s eye, she blushed bright pink and turned back to her cousin. From next to Roger, Finn heaved a sigh.

You only need two dashes to separate (--), not three. 

            “She’s just…not my type, okay?”

            “Eh. Whatever you say, old boy.”

            “You’re talking about Maddie, aren’t you?” This was from Lucy, who appeared right behind them to order another round of drinks. She leaned an elbow on Finn’s shoulder and flicked her red bangs to the side. Looking at Finn, she laughed, reaching over to tussle his dirty blond hair. “She fancies you, you know.”

            Roger laughed at Finn’s helpless expression.

            “I mean, she’s a terribly nice girl and she’s most certainly attractive but I…” Finn shrugged. “Just because we have the same taste in music doesn’t mean we’re meant to be.”

            “Oh, come off it, Finn. She’s probably not looking for something serious,” said Roger.

            “You know, just because you’re not looking for something serious, doesn’t mean no one is,” Finn snapped.

            At this point, Lucy laughed, knocking Finn on the side of the head. Roger knew how close the two were. They had gone to the same secondary school and college and were going to the same dance academy in the fall, along with another one of their friends.

So I know this is for a roleplay character of yours, so the reader would know all this stuff about your characters, but I don't. Physical descriptions of them would be a bit nice, as well as location. I kind of imagined a barbeque or get-together in the woods, though that's probably not what's happening.

Also, Madison leaned in towards her cousin--I thought said cousin was Lucy, and Lucy is nowhere near her? Isn't Madison with a friend of all three of them?

Yeah, currently, I'm just a bit blind. I know nothing about the characters, the location, or anything. I know the characters would be taken care of, but don't forget to mention what's happening otherwise.

            “Finn, don’t be so sensitive. But seriously,” Lucy dropped her voice. “Maddie’s here for another week and she really  likes you and she’s honestly not expecting anything to come out of it---I already told her that you’re---“

Yeah, nitpicky, I know, but you put two spaces after 'really'. 

            “Yeah, okay, okay. Be nice to her, don’t be an arse. Got it. But seriously. Try having a younger girl after you.”

            “That’s not necessarily something I would object to,” said Roger, lifting his glass.

            “Well, Roger.” Lucy smiled. “Finn’s a completely different bloke than you. Different mindset. It isn’t decent for an upperclass fellow to have women throwing themselves at him.” She nudged Finn in the shoulder. Finn rolled his eyes.

            “Okay, just because my dad’s family is posh as fuck, does not mean I am…” But Finn was smiling now. Roger glanced at him, his gaze lingering on Finn’s crooked grin and his dancing brown eyes. They met each other’s eyes and Roger smirked. Much to his surprise, Finn’s eyes flashed away and there was a faint pink colour to his cheeks. Finn blushed very easily---Roger had noticed that years ago---but usually it happened when he was flustered or nervous. Roger shrugged, about to take a sip from his mug, but then noticed it was empty. He tapped the counter, getting the barman’s attention, and then turned back to Lucy.

I think you're trying to put the emphasis on the fact that he isnt--in which case I suggest you change it to "I am" rather than "I am". But that's just a suggestion.

You only need two dashes.

See above.

            “How’s your sister?” he asked, knowing very well how much that question ticked her off. Lucy rolled her eyes and reached over to knock Roger on the side of the head. He dodged her hand and laughed. Finn joined in.

            “Don’t get me started, Roger,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve got half a mind to slap you across the face every time you mention her.”

            “You’ve never hit me because I mentioned her!” Finn pointed at his chest. Lucy scoffed.

            “You never shagged my sister.”

            “I never said I wouldn’t.”

Emphasis on words in the form of italics is good, but if you begin to overdo it it loses its power. Just keep that in mind.

            “Oh, go to hell.”

            And they all laughed and the barman brought on another round of beers and they raised their glasses, drinking to the health of the Queen, Pippa Middleton’s bottom, and the new royal baby.

              A little after, they were walking home. Lucy and Roger lived about two doors down from each other, so it was no surprise that they would often come back together. This time, however, Maddie tagged along, of course, as she was staying with the Bakers, but much to Roger’s surprise, Finn bounded along with them. Roger turned to Lucy, raising his eyebrows. Finn lived all the way across town and normally, he would’ve hopped on one of the buses or the late night train by this time. Lucy looked as puzzled as he did and just shrugged.

After what? Drinks? The bar closed? The night started creeping up? Also, 'they'? Who are 'they'? All the people in the bar? It seemed like there were more they hadn't quite mentioned. It's kind of bare for a transitory sentence. 

            “Oi, Maddie,” she said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Who? Lucy?

            Maddie, who had been not-so-discreetly trying to get closer to Finn, turned around.

But Finn's still far behind them, right? Is she beginning to lag behind? I'm just having trouble picturing this all in my head.

            “Yeah?”

            “I need to go to the store.”

            “Is anywhere open?”

            “Yeh, yeh, the 24 hour shop on the corner. I need…”

            The girls met eyes and instantly Maddie nodded.

            “Oh, oh.” She walked towards her cousin. “I’ll come with you.”

            “Don’t wait for us,” said Lucy, waving back at Finn and Roger.

            “Wasn’t planning on it,” said Roger.

            She gave him the finger.

            Beside him, Finn chuckled. Roger turned to look at him, cocking his head to the side.

            “Where’re you going, mate?” he asked. “Didn’t your bus leave already?”

            Finn shook his head. “The bus routes changed. I don’t have one till…Well, it’s very late, so I figured I’d walk a bit with this lot.”

Space after your ellipses. 

'This lot'? Meaning Lucy, Maddie, and Roger? Or are there more?

            “Ah, okay then.”

            There was silence. Roger wasn’t necessarily one to talk in every spare moment and for the most of the time, between his friends at least, the silence was respected and not intruded upon This time, however, he noticed Finn trying to keep up and noticed how his mouth opened and closed every so often. Finn’s hands flew up at one point, as if he were about to start something, but the minute Roger turned to look, his hands were back at his side.

            “Blimey, mate. Cat got your tongue?”

            Finn just shook his head.

            “It’s not Maddie is it?” He turned and pointed back in the direction where Lucy and her cousin had walked off to. “Are you having second thoughts? We can go fetch her right now and…”

Comma after 'Maddie'. 

This little exchange, despite the bare description of what's happening around us, is good. Very logical and sounds like something friends would say to each other.

            “No! No.” Finn whirled around and Roger had to take a step back, because the look on Finn’s face was unlike anything he had seen before. It was serious and furious and driven and just hard. “Can’t you see mate? I don’t like Maddie. I don’t like anyone…I…” He gestured and then dropped his hands to his face. “Bloody hell, Roger.” He looked away.

Space after both ellipses. (anyone... I...)

*chuckles darkly because I definitely see where this is going* WOAH, epiphany. Does Lucy also know? Does everyone know but Roger? Hmm.

            “Finn…” Roger stepped forward, grabbing Finn on the shoulder. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

            And then Finn shook his head.

            “I…I can’t tell you.”

            “Finn, just…you’ll feel a lot better, trust me.” Roger was concerned now. Finn did not act like this. This scared boy in front of him was not Finn. Finn was dancing. Finn was spontaneous singing. Finn was pointing out dogs that looked like their owners while walking on the streets and getting completely wiped after just one cigarette.

Spacity space space.

See above.

Oooh. Good description from Roger about Finn. I like it.

            He turned to look at Roger, his mouth twisted and scared, his dancing eyes troubled.

            “Roger…I…”

Space after the first ellipses, but not the second. (I only bolded them as well to make my bolding stand out)

            Before Roger even knew what had happened, Finn was kissing him. It struck him with surprise but he did not pull away and instead leaned down as so he could properly kiss Finn. And then it crossed his mind that he was kissing a guy and that, really, did not surprise him, but it was the fact that it was Finn, whom he had known since Finn was thirteen and he was sixteen. He hesitated a little and Finn, of course---since he was Finn and inclined to notice the little gestures in people---pulled away and tore his eyes from Roger and started running across the street.

Only two dashes. 

            “Finn! Wait!”

            He ran after Finn (which was difficult, because Finn was very slightly and very fast), who did not look back. Finally, Roger caught up and grabbed Finn’s hand.

            “Whatcha run away for, mate?” he asked. Finn was looking at the ground, breathing heavily, strands of his golden-brown hair falling into his eyes. He pushed the bits of hair up and then glanced up at Roger, his cheeks flushed pink.

            “I’m sorry…I…”

He was slight, not slightly. Slight is an adjective, slightly an adverb.

What'cha, with an apostrophe. 

            “Don’t apologize,” said Roger, cutting him off. It had rained recently and the wetness on the sidewalk reflected the lonely street lights. He could still smell the dampness in the air and the chill that the cold, wetness sent through him. And right now, he was thinking about Finn, who was trembling in front of him, who had kissed him, and how he had never, in a million years, thought that he would want to kiss Finn back. And he was a little tipsy and he was a little lonely and Finn was scared and lost, so Roger walked over to him, roughly cupping Finn’s face in his hand, and then kissed him again.

Oh yes, the description I've been waiting for! That is how I imagined the setting, however, so it's not too bad.

   Overall

First of all, of course, I'm mad at you for leaving me on a cliff-hanger-y part, so the next parts better be in my submission asap, okay? 

This was a really good, well-rounded story, but I'd like to see more description! Assuming all your readers know what the characters look like, can you give me the surrounding areas? What does the pub look like? Or the streets? Just give me more description to feed off of, so that I can understand better.

Thank you for your submission. Truly good, and I can't wait to read more! Keep calm and write on. 

[creativecritic-blog]

Submitted by a Writer

so a little background, it’s sci fi and basically this guy Ian and Will get into an accident. Ian’s comatose and Will is distraught—he wants to help/save his friend. The concept is that there is like a universal unconscious and that people that are comatose all share a reality. it’s kind of confusing. i would give you everything i have so far but i don’t want to bore you. ^^; this is the first part. i really honestly apologize for my horrible grammar and choppy sentences. oopsy

Interesting choices for names, because my first thought was William Riker and then Ian Troi (for that one episode when Deanna had a child). 

Do not be worried about sending me everything you have! That's what I'm here for! In fact, I insist you do send me everything you have!

As usual, issues will be bolded and then addressed in block quote. Let's get started!

Will

He stands sandwiched between sweaty people, pouring rain acting as butter. The planet is born today in thundering clouds and smoke. Car horns, cracks in the sidewalk; he feels the block of perspiration on the man’s shirt in front of him. The tops of buildings plunge into fog. Will Langer pushes through the people to turn onto 1st avenue. Car exhaust and coffee aroma guide him across the street. Taxi and bus driver alike holler at him to get a move on even though they are stuck in traffic. He mutters apologies, his trench coat catching on chipped, rusty bumpers, trudging toward Bellevue Hospital Center; the building touches the fog roof hovering above Manhattan. The doctors said he wouldn’t be too much better today than he was three weeks ago but his brain activity fluctuated last Tuesday, and that’s progress. It can only get better…at least he hopes it will. The lady at the front desk bundles her braids into a hair tie. The rings set heavily under her eyes and she’s scribbling something fierce. She only works on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays; Will is relieved to see her and not the young Puerto Rican woman who tries to flirt with him in Spanish and sometimes French. 

It honestly took me a few read-throughs to understand what you meant. People don't walk around with butter on them, if you catch my drift--so it could feel like butter, or work like butter, but acting like butter would mean it was spread across a piece of toast. 

This is the name of a street, yes? In which case, it should be 1st Avenue. (not the italics, just the capitalization) 

I think you meant drivers, not driver. 

A space after those ellipses. Also, you'd technically need a comma after at least, but I'm willing to overlook it due to stylistic tendencies.

So far, so good. The descriptive yet short way you format your sentences can be actually be viewed as a style, and therefore, you're totally fine. It actually reads very well and gives a lot of description. 

    “Jean, you’re looking as busy as usual.” Will smiles at her as she finishes writing down an address.     “You sound optimistic as always, what did you bring me today?” She purses her lips and he digs into his coat pocket. He places a cinnamon apple muffin in front of her, “Sounded like a good combination. Apples and muffins, you can’t really go wrong there.”

Comma splice--I suggest fixing it with a period and not a semi-colon, as semi-colons read oddly in speech bubbles (and I've always been told not to do it, but I can't see why not). 

There should be a period after her, and the next statement should be on a new line, as you already used this paragraph to let someone else speak. Every paragraph can only have one person speaking.

    “We’ll see,” she says taking the muffin, “Ian’s with the doctor right now. I’m sure he’ll be out soon; you can wait in his room.”     “Thanks Jean,” Will counted the red tiles in the starched white corridor. There are always three but sometimes he hoped it would be four or five. Something to make the walk a bit more bearable. He could see Dr. Hetzel pushing Ian’s bed into his room. 136 hung on his door on the Level 1 trauma unit. His room is one of a few that faces the bridge outside connecting Manhattan and Queens. Will jogs down the hall and nearly runs down Dr. Hetzel as she exits Ian’s room.

I just want to stop and say that I like this so far. I like the relationships you have developed, I like the description everywhere, I like the small, plausible details such as counting the tiles. This is good and intriguing this far and I'm interested to see where it goes. 

Almost missed this, oops--you need to make some indication that this is what the door reads. You can put it in italics or single quotations marks (such as '136'), but you need to make that clear.

     The clipboard clatters to the ground and she struggles to keep hold of her folders. Sheets spill over her arms; Will bends down and gathers them in his hands.     “Let me help you, I didn’t mean to run into you—“     “It’s fine Will—oh could you get that—no, the one behind you—thank you!” She takes the folders and balances them on her crouched knees. Her veiny hands straighten the papers. Her knees pop and she tucks the clipboard under her arm; Will stands and brushes off his pant legs.     “So…how is he today…?”     “Oh Will, he’s…”     Dr. Hetzel claps his shoulder and she ambles through the heavy metal doors down the hall. He could hear the steady beeps of Ian’s heartbeat. Will steps into the room; the curtain wavers in the corner, the window overlooking grey water and thick cotton ball clouds. The walls are minty and he smells the bandages and sterilized needles in the cabinet under the window sill. Ian’s complexion is as white as a wildflower. A wrinkled fleece blanket lays on top of him.

Good description. This is very, very good as of yet.

    “You’re looking good today… your cheeks aren’t as pale.” Will crosses the room and drags a tan stool next to Ian’s bed. Will does what he always does, he tells him how much he misses him and how he went to the bar alone last night and how ‘you weren’t there to help me get home so I had to have a random lady take me to a taxi’. He went on, saying his day wasn’t too much better, “The lady in 6 East coded today and one of the nurses went completely ballistic…You know Irene? She toppled like a domino and started screaming. I’ve never seen her like that. She’s usually so good about patients…dying.” Will realizes he will be Irene soon if Ian doesn’t wake up…

Space after the ellipses.

Once again, you've done a great job with including characters, miscellaneous people. Good good. You've also seemed to warrant some sympathy from the reader, even this early on--I'm a bit worried about Ian. 

   Will heaves a sigh and takes Ian’s hand. His fingers are cold and dry in Will’s warm palm.

    “Are you in there?”

I'm impressed with that first half. Very good, very good. 

***     The intersection was emptier than usual when Ian and Will were maneuvering throughout the city. Traffic was still stop and go but there was more space, you could speed a few car lengths rather than riding on at the speed of a snail.     “Yellow one.” Will’s finger followed a yellow corvette

Comma splice (though I might be willing to overlook it due to style)

Period after corvette. 

    “I don’t think this is very fair, we’re in New York City, there are thousands of yellow cars! I think we should switch colors.” Ian chuckled and pressed his knees against the chair in front of him.     “Not my fault you didn’t pick yellow. I did let you pick first.” Will clenched and unclenched his hands; his pupils glowed yellow, then red. “The lights in this town are rigged.”     Ian sat up suddenly and grimaced, “Ah crap, I think I forgot to turn off the coffee this morning…”     “Well, we aren’t anywhere close to your apartment. Do you want to call your landlady and make sure your room isn’t in flames?”     Will started fishing for his cell phone but Ian pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed, “No, but my coffeepot might be deformed now.”     The light flashed green and they eased forward  as much as the traffic would allow when a horn blared. Will looked to his left to see a bus chugging toward them. The taxi driver halted, threw his door open and ran for it. Will’s neck snapped to the side as the bus collided and the metal of the taxi screeched.

I'm a bit... befuddled at what happened here. Is Will the taxi driver? In which case, make that clear earlier on or don't mention it's the 'taxi driver' during this exchange. Did he stay in his car or physically jump out of it? You make that unclear as well with 'threw his door open and ran for it'. 

    Ian was being jostled around and the car moaned as it flipped. The car slid a few more feet and spun in place as it stopped.     “IAN! Are you okay?”     Ian was pushed closer to the chair and his hair brushed the top of the car.

Something that was bothering me slightly before was that I didn't know what positions they were in--Will was driving, but where was Ian? Was he in the back seat? That's what it sounded like, and what I was leaning towards. Establish that before this accident, just so we can have a clear picture. Also, I'm a little confused about Ian's position now, but I'm sure you'll describe that more later.

    “I’m a little light-headed…I think I’m stuck…”

Ellipses space.

    “H-Hang on, I’m going to get you out!”

    Will unbuckled himself and fell on his neck, sharp pains sparking through muscles. He groaned and urged his door open. He threw himself at the door and it scratched open across the road. He managed to maneuver around the broken glass and struggled to stand. The wheels slowly rotated and he could see the bus driver fumbling with the phone. Will limped to the passenger side. The lights changed but no one moved…

Okay, thanks for that last sentence. I was just to ask about where the car was in relative to the street lights. Still would like a little more knowledge on that, actually, but I know Will's a bit preoccupied. 

    The door was crushed against Ian whose face was red.     Will muttered, “I’m gonna help you…just a second buddy…uh…”

Comma after Ian. 

Space after every set of ellipses but the last one.

    The handle was bent and chipped; it hurt to grasp it. Time seemed to stop that moment. The sounds melted out and he could see Ian’s eyelids popping open. Ian shot a look at him and croaked, “WILL.”

    A drunk driver was rushing past the bus and into the intersection; Will’s jaw dropped. He glanced back at Ian who was pulling violently at the seatbelt. Will leapt out of the way from the truck and heard the crinkling of metal. Will’s jeans were ripped and his palms skinned by the pavement. Sirens oozed in the air; he found himself crawling to the taxi door. The drunk had flown through the windshield and was bleeding through his ears and mouth. Somehow they had placed Will on a gurney and they were on their way to the hospital. Will couldn’t really remember much after that.

Passed, not past. 

So the car hit into the taxi again, right? Since we don't know where the taxi is located, we aren't really sure whether or not the drunk hits them at first. Make sure to solve that a bit earlier on.

***

    The rain taps lightly against the windowpane. The nurse checks in a few times to feed him through a tube. He gets 3 ‘meals’ of Peptamen every day. She came in for dinner while Will was there and fed him the ‘chocolate stuff’. They have ‘vanilla’ Peptamen and ‘chocolate’ Peptamen; they keep the cans in the nurses’ station.     No matter how long Will holds Ian’s fingers, they won’t warm up. It is around 7:30 when Will leaves, dizzy from the hospital smell that’s still numbing his nose.

AM, right?

As a person who spends most of her time in hospitals, this is so beautifully true and I applaud you for putting it into words so eloquently. 

    The wind’s violent sweeps sting his eyes as the sun sets below the skyline. The river of cars flow slowly through the intersection. Ragged people hobble behind him with shopping carts and baskets full of clothes and food wrappers; the roads, wet, and the clouds still drum above but the sky only spits on him now. Will weaves between the cars again and heads up a few blocks to the Continental. The beer is cheap but the bouncers are tough to get past. They have sticks up their asses half the time and are prejudiced pigs, but if you offer them a beer, they let you in… then you don’t get them the beer. Today he is lucky though, they must be out for dinner or on break because the door is free of those goons and the place is packed. He strolls under the bright-pearl Continental sign into a wall of noise. The inside reeks with nicotine and drunk-college-kid breath. They swarm around the screen which glows with a football game. Will’s eyes sting from the fumes and he stumbles to a stool.

Passed. 

This is really good, this paragraph right here. You were beginning to get a bit shaky in the last section, but you come back at full-force here. 

I just kind of realized that we don't know much about Ian and Will. Are they brothers? Close friends? For some reason I imagined them as brothers or friends as close as brothers with Ian being younger. I know you said in your original description they were friends, but a reader won't have that--they'll only have your writing to tell them what's what.

    “Beer please…” The bartender has a scruff with beady eyes and a large chin. His name is Theodore but he refuses to be called such a ‘prissy ass’ name. He prefers to go by Billy. Billy never tells anyone he likes to be called that because he did it in reverence for his Doberman pinscher. He fed him too much chocolate.

Loving these minor characters, especially the thing about the Doberman. You're doing great with that. 

    A sweating mug slides in front of Will. The college guys roar, “INTERCEPTION!” Will takes a swig. Usually Ian would have a beer with him, drink one bottle, then head off to the juke box and put on some old rock but… he isn’t here right now.     The bartender wipes his hands on his pants and turns to Will, “So where’s Ian? I usually get more than just 2$ out of you! Maybe you want to buy another?” Billy chortles and swivels to listen to the woman sitting a few stools down. She orders a shot and then reapplies her lipstick which is redder than a stop sign. Her breasts push against the countertop and she shoves her purse under the lip of the counter, not that Will cares. In fact, he isn’t even looking at her. He is chugging his second beer. The second cup drips more than the first and tastes a little sweeter; he tips the bottle until it’s vertical.     “’Nother beer please,” Will sits with his eyes on the nozzles.     Outside, the sun drops below the head of New York and the dark sky looms over the bar.

Right, PM, got it. 

So Will sat with Ian all day, right? Because the first paragraph sounded like morning (e.g. the planet is born today). 

    Will drops ten bucks on the counter and walks over to the window. The cars seem to whiz from one eye to another. The glass rim is too familiar with his mouth tonight, stomach rippling and buzzing from the beer. Will leans against the scratchy brick wall and shivers. He can’t hear anything and just as he is about to leave, he notices something. He doesn’t see his reflection in the window. The floors are illuminated as well as the bar and the TV is glowing in the reflection, but he isn’t.     “Damn, I’mlikeavampire,” he slurs. He hiccups; the football crowd isn’t in the window either. Will scrunches his eyes closed and opens them wide to focus; a ghost of a person filters into the reflection. Will looks behind him but sees no one in the spot of the reflection. The silhouette slides up to the window and comes into view.     “Wow I’m drunk.” his jaw slowly falls and watches as Ian presses against the window. He smiles a little but is pulled away by a hooded, curvey girl. Ian points at Will and furrows his eyebrows. He thrashes and tries to drag her to the window but she hauls him off and they disintegrate. The reflection of the bar is still empty and he still fails to appear.

Wow, yeah, make that more clear. They're both guys and the sentence before had Will as the primary subject, so we just assume 'he' means Will. Change it to Ian, perhaps?

    Will reaches out for the window only to have his fingers run into cool glass.

    “I need to go home…” Will falls toward the door and crashes out onto the sidewalk. The ground seems to tilt as he hobbles past signs and flung open doors. It’s not fair, he thought,why does he get to have a friend and I don’t. Why does he get to be with someone and I have to be alone. Agghh f—he trips on a crack in the sidewalk and shoulders some lady(“Ew! Get off you drunk-ass!”). The crowd moves around him in a blur and he feels as though he were falling through blankets of ghosts. He can’t feel his fingers and talking feels like a distant memory. The lights flash so brightly now, threatening to change the color of his skin with their neon greens and reds. He doesn’t know where he is, all the buildings look the same. All the people look the same. Hell, the cars look the same. If he wasn’t so drunk, he would be able to tell those are just taxis. His ears are ringing and he can’t decide whether the  world just happens to be incredibly foggy this particular moment, or if it is him.

Space after thought, 

As though he is, right? This is in present tense

   Overall

This is good. Very good. In fact, I'm interested to see where this story goes. Your description was spot-on, very understandable, very relatable. My only issue was the middle part. While I loved seeing that moment and loved seeing what was going on, I was both confused (the taxi thing, the position of Ian, the position of the car after the accident), and it lacked a certain urgency. Perhaps try getting more into Will's emotions, his fear, and writing out how his fear physically makes him feel about what's going on. 

Other than that, however, this was amazing. I can't wait to read more of it. 

Keep calm and write on!

[creativecritic-blog]

Out of edit;

Reminder that I'm still open and ready to edit! 

[creativecritic-blog]

Out of edit;

Just wanted to take a few moments to thank all of my new followers! 

Don't forget that my submission box is wide open, awaiting anything to edit!

Do you have a friend who might be interested in this but doesn't have a Tumblr? Never fear. They can find me at [email protected]. 

Remember that I edit anything and everything that hits my submit/email/tag, so send away!

Keep calm and write on~

[creativecritic-blog]

Email Submission ; My Ragnarok with You (Chapter One) by crusoe-the-android

To email your work, compose a message to [email protected]. 

As usual, I will bold certain areas of dispute and block quote an explanation. The first bullet will address the first bold, the second will address the second, etc. 

 Freewyn sat at the table and looked at all of the other people in the café, glowering through her dark shades. That cat tailed bastard had said he would be here 20 minutes ago, and she was still waiting. The other people in the room didn’t notice the angry girl in the corner, except for a small girl, about three who was glaring back at her with as much force as Freewyn herself was putting out.

You used girl already in this sentence. Check out  this to find synonyms easily and efficiently. I use it every single time I write. Also, can I suggest you changing it to for a small girl of about three who was glaring back'? It sounds much more fluid that way, but in the end, the choice is yours.

 Sighing she looked out the window and reached for her tea, and found it not there but in the hand of Cal, who had popped the lid and was peering inside with one blue eye. 

There should be a comma between sighing and she. 

Suggested change to for her tea, finding it not there but.... Again, more languid, and also helps distance itself from the other verbs you were using.

I'm glad you know who your characters are. We don't. Who is this Cal? This is who we were waiting for? What does Cal look like? How long has Cal been sitting there? 

 “What the heck is this supposed to be?”

She was considering snatching it back, but decided she didn’t want to drink it after he had been doing who knows what, for who knows how long. Instead she let her dark sunglasses slide her nose, and glowered at him through her single brown eye. 

No but seriously, how long has he been sitting there? The reader gets the distinct feeling that Freewyn was alone--until now, that is. Also, to be grammatically correct, change to, after he had been doing who knows what to it for who knows how long. 

I'm presuming you meant slide up her nose, not that her glasses were literally sliding her nose, correct?

This is your first chapter, right? So far the reader is left with very little knowledge. We were waiting for some cat bastard (which was good, seeing through the character's eyes), but we don't know anything else. What does the cafe look like? How many people are there? What does Cal look like, or the main character? What kind of universe is this? Futuristic? Past? We need some setting, some something. For everything you don't tell us, tell us something--for example, every thing you knowingly don't want the reader to know, supply us with another form of information. 

“You owe me another tea.”

“Ooooh, its tea”. He set it down on the table. “I like tea. But I do not like this tea.” He got up and crossed to the counter, returning a minute later with two cups of something sweet smelling and brown in a cup.

It's, not its. This is a tricky one, but remember, it's is short for it is. 

The period should be inside the quotation marks, not outside.

You've already told us it's in a cup, you do not need to reiterate. 

“For you.” He handed her a cup and took a sip of his.

Swallowing he asked, “Charming as your company has been this last ten minutes, I would like it very much of you would cut to the chase. Drink your tea, it’s good for you.” 

Comma between swallowing and he. 

“Why, do you have yarn to tangle? And no, I will not drink my tea, because you put sugar in it, and that makes it not tea. I called you here because I think it is time for my sister to come home. I don’t know where she is, but I know you had something to do with it.”

“I am sensing hostility.” “Are you?” “Yes. Please go on with the rant I am sure you want to share with me.” 

A new paragraph for every quotation set.

I'm sure this is all very amazing and character building stuff, but I still don't know what's going on. So far, your writing is lacking a lot of senses. Don't forget the big five--see, hear, smell, feel, taste. I can't get into your story yet because I don't know anything about it yet. To submerge into a pool you have to be shown the water, correct?

He sat back and crossed his arms, his cat ears flat against his head and his eyes narrowed, waiting for the explosion she surely had in store. Instead she just looked at him; the darkened lenses of her shades made his olive skin look gray, and the shadows under his shining blue eyes were black. He looks tired. As she thought it she knew something was wrong. As much as the man bothered her, she still felt the need to ask what was up with him; and odd as it was she really cared about the answer.

Oh. Wait. Was he the cat bastard? 

For a minute I forgot this was in Freewyn's point of view. It seems here as if you're switching. Suggested change to seemingly waiting for the explosion he was sure she had in store. 

This is past tense, so change looks to looked. I have a trick to remember past tense--anything written in past tense could have happened anywhere from three seconds ago to three hundred years ago. Don't forget.

Comma between it and she.

You just used a sentence that started with as. Suggested change, as it gets repetitive quickly. 

Good description of Cal through Freewyn's eyes. Good emotions peaking out. 

She leaned her head back against the booth seat, the shiny blue fabric squeaking under her. She rubbed her eye and said “Look. I need to find Sylvia, and there are people coming for you. They are probably at your house right now, as a matter of fact, and if they take you, neither I, nor anyone else will ever see you again. And I am saddened to admit it, but I need your help.”

Grammatically, you need a comma between said and look but honestly I suggest taking out and said altogether. 

This sounded strange. People don't really say they're saddened to admit it. They say "I hate to admit it", or "As much as it pains me to admit it", but never really "I'm sad to admit it." Of course, you can keep it, it's just a note. 

“Of course, I will do anything I can to help.” He said, without a pause, “but I say as I have been saying, I have had nothing to do with the loss of Sylvia. I do not lie. Now if you would show me what you saw in your vision this morning...”

Suggested change to He continued, as 'he said' could be talking about the statement beforehand, in which case you'd be grammatically incorrect.

She's a psychic? Felt like that should have been mentioned earlier. Alluded to. I don't know. By this point of the story, we're really trapped in the dark about so much. 

Also, don't forget about the apathy syndrome, as I like to call it. The apathy syndrome is when people reading know so little about your characters they don't care what happens to them (e.g. I don't know anything about Cal. Why do I care they're about to take him away? I know nothing of Freewyn. Why is her sister important to us?) It's why killing off major characters or causing them pain is usually advised against in early chapters. 

Freewyn took a breath deep into her lungs. She honestly wished she could trust him but it had been a year since they had last been friends, and since they had been very much…not. The weight of things that needed to be said and things that very much didn’t need to be said was driving her mad, more so trying to figure out which was which.

Comma between him and but. 

Space after the ellipses. 

Nice last sentence in that paragraph. 

“It wasn’t what I saw, but what I felt really; other people saw more than I did and it bothered them. What I felt was fear.” She said this flatly, and with a distant tone that Cal remembered she used when she was using her Sight. “I was afraid of whatever was happening, and I was terrified for you. I only saw blackness, like my eye was closed.” Her power only worked for things she was seeing at the point in the future she was looking at. She couldn’t see anything now because she had her eye closed in the future.

Other people? Are there other Seers as well? What's going on?

And now I feel like it's from Cal's point of view again. Be careful, this is confusing to readers.

Is she a cyclops, or does only one eye see into the future?

See above. 

“So what did the others See that got their panties so twisted?” Now he was leaned against the back of his seat, slouching posture showing just how thin his patience was wearing with this conversation.

Add in his between the comma and slouching. 

My patience isn't running thin of this conversation, but I'd like more info. Anywhere. Somewhere. We have very little that we understand so far. 

“They mainly Saw routes out of this town, or they couldn’t see or sense anything at all. What they Knew was that you were to blame, and that they wished that they had killed you when you had the chance.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, this was perfectly reasonable to him. 

Shouldn't this be capitalized like the other ones?

Comma splice. Solve it with a period (.), a semi-colon (;), or a dash (--). 

 He suddenly opened his eyes and sat upright, his ears swiveling around to catch the noise of anyone sneaking up on him. He said “Let’s go” and marched out the door, his hands in his coat pockets and a relaxed air to anyone who didn’t know him.

This is confusing. Is he merely listening to see if anyone will sneak up on him, or does he hear people sneaking up on him? In which case, 'anyone' is too broad and should be replaced.

There should be a comma in there somewhere. Try rephrasing to, "Let's go," he said and marched out the door... 

This is also confusing. Perhaps portraying a relaxed air to anyone who didn't know him?

As he stepped outside he held a hand to keep Freewyn inside as he looked around. Finally deciding on a direction he took her hand and marched off down the sidewalk. He didn’t seem to notice that he had taken Freewyn’s hand so she decided not to make a deal of it. 

This was worded awkwardly. Suggested change to, He stepped outside, holding a hand across the doorway so Freewyn wouldn't follow him immediately. After looking around, he finally decided on a direction and took her hand... 

Now we're back to Freewyn's point of view? Please stick to one character to make it easier for the reader. 

So we both know this is NaNoWriMo, right? It's obvious you were rushed through writing this. But what is talent? Making something difficult look easy. I'm not saying you don't have talent, because I've read your work and you do, but you're rushing through everything. You don't give us time or senses. We need more of it to ground us in your world. Give us a foothold before you start running off with the plot. 

It was midday, so the light had reached its usual moment of dimness as the cloudy spirits swarmed the sun as it reached its zenith. It was a normal occurrence, and served the purpose of telling true noon from other parts of the day.  

Information, finally! Not a lot, but good. We need more of this. 

Cal was unsure of exactly why he had taken her hand, but figured if he took it back now it would be more noticeable, so he pretended it was nothing. He could hear Freewyn’s scuffing footsteps behind him and her breathing, but over that he could hear the lightest steps he had ever heard, almost as precise and sure as his own, the steps were obviously of someone who had taken the soul of an animal as he had, and thus had magic. He decided that he did not like being followed, ah he was a head long sort of fellow and evasiveness was not to his liking. 

I'm really confused about the point of view. 

Comma splice. 

Ah?

More information here. Good, but would have been better earlier on. We also need more extensive. What is this animal magic? How does it work? Throw us a bone, writer!

As they passed an alley he stepped into it and dragged Freewyn along behind him, pulling her to a spot a few feet behind him he pulled off his coat and folded it in half and threw it to a spot on the ground. In a fluid, sure movement he drew the short cylinder out of the case on his belt, and with a twisting motion it grew to a staff a few inches taller than himself. The staff was made of dark wood; grayish with blackish veins veining and twining around and through it in hypnotic knots and arterial shapes. At the top was an enormous shard of onyx that dully reflected the image of the man coming into the alley on a gray foxes paws. 

That was a huge run-on sentence. Let me try a few edits? 

Cal dragged Freewyn into a nearby alley, throwing his coat off and folding it in half before tossing it on the ground. 

The moment Cal caught sight of an alley, he stumbled into it, pulling Freewyn in behind him. He pulled off his coat and folded it in half before tossing it on the ground. 

Comma after movement and before he. 

No semi-colon. Try a comma. 

Fox paws, not foxes paws. 

It's becoming clear that this is a world made up of animals. Like foxes and cats. And apparently a psychic cyclops. 

The man was mid height, with ears that were large and slightly rounded, with soft red fur on the back, which blended into his red and gray hair. At the sight of Cal he stopped and drew a staff that was shorter than Cal’s, just a little shorter than Foxy Fellow himself, and made of cherry wood.

Mid-height, technically.

Is Foxy Fellow his name? If not, lower case and add the before it.

I'm glad we have his physical description--good touch, good description--but I'm needy. I want Freewyn's physical description. I want some emotional reaction to him. I want the surroundings, the setting, what it looks and smells and tastes like. 

Cal called up his power from the place he could feel it in the center of his chest, and Freewyn saw his eyes glow and become opaque milky blue, with no pupil. He made a motion with the staff and a ring of blue fire rose around the two of them, low, not halfway to Freewyn’s knees. 

You switched between point of views in the same sentence. Also, while I understand what Cal is doing, it's phrased a bit awkwardly. I suggest rereading and editing it.

No comma is needed. 

The man at the mouth of the alley took a step closer and as his eyes flashed pale yellow an enormous pillar of light formed in front of him. He made a slashing motion toward the two of them and the figure slid forward. Cal took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, tensing for the blow. The light reached the place where they were standing exploded shattering and flying apart in sticky looking yellow blobs.

Suggested change to standing and exploded, shattering and... 

Cal and Freewyn’s hair was moved by the force of the explosion, but other than that they were unharmed. 

Hair, or... fur? 

We still know very little about these people and what's going on by this point. Just want to remind you. 

Fox man was not so lucky, he was kneeling where he was standing a few moments ago and his staff was ling a few feet away. Freewyn noticed a greenish chain, nearly invisible, connecting Cal’s staff to a point in the middle of the man’s chest, and the man was gasping. Cal stepped towards the man, the fire blinking out as his foot fell on it and he stood before him. 

Comma splice.

I'm presuming you meant lying. Unfortunately, this would be incorrect--you're looking for laying. This is a difficult thing to remember, so below I've written it out for you: 

We lay objects down, we lie down by ourselves.  

The past tense of lay is laid. 

The past tense of lie is lay. 

It's confusing and horrible, but it's something you must memorize. 

Freewyn saw that the fox man was much younger than she thought, not more than 25, and he looked like he was in pain.

“Cal…”

“Just a moment.” He said, his voice slow and distant, and his eyes still flat and filmy.

Comma after moment, he should be lower case. 

He knelt down in front of our attacker.

“Why.” It was not a question.

It sort of is, though, right?

“There is a bounty on you. The Seers.” He was gasping harder now, like a fish on land, 

Like Freewyn? 

End your sentence with a period, not a comma. 

Cal nodded and released the boy from his hold. Then, standing, he promptly hit the boy over the head with his staff, collapsed it and replaced it in his pouch. Then he walked over and collapsed the boy’s staff, placing it in the coat pocket of fox boy.

Look at the words I bolded. Each of the bolded words has another word identical to it in the same paragraph. It's repetitive and rather messy to read. Try that amazing Thesaurus I gave you.

Also, fox guy is 25. He's no longer a boy, he's a man. 

Then he picked up his own coat, nodded to Freewyn and they walked out the other side of the alley, the one they hadn’t come in by.

They walked quickly, not talking, towards Cal’s home a few streets over. By the time they got there the city was lit by orange dusk. Freewyn stood watching the street while Cal unlocked the door and cast a spell that would have revealed anyone in the house. 

Your last two sentences also started with 'then'.

You already used 'walked', in the sentence before this one. 

Good moment of description with the city lit by orange dusk. 

“Good, they are not here yet. Come in.”

It sounds very wordy for colloquial English. Try, "Good, they're not here yet. Come in." 

Freewyn stepped into the house as Cal looked around awkwardly and made a gesture that could have meant anything from welcome, to a medical emergency. 

Why is he awkward? Isn't this his home? 

No comma. 

He turned and disappeared and Freewyn was left to wander the house. She had been there only once, despite him having a rather mysterious relationship with her sister for the better part of two years, and that one time was the day Dottie had disappeared, after the police had come and left, convinced that Cal, fine and upstanding, as well as important, member of society that he was had absolutely nothing to do with it. she had found his address on the internet, showed up in the middle of the night, rang the doorbell, and punched him in the jaw the moment the door was opened wide enough for her hand to get through.

I thought her sister's name was Sylvia? If not, who is Sylvia? 

Attempts are listed below:

... after the police had come and left, convinced that Cal was a fine and upstanding, as well as important, member of society, and that he had absolutely... 

... after the police had come and left, convinced that Cal was fine, upstanding, and an important member of society and that he had absolutely... 

... after the police had come and left, convinced that Cal, fine and upstanding, was an important member of society and had absolutely nothing... 

.... after the police had come and left, convinced that Cal was a fine, upstanding, and important member of society and had absolutely nothing... 

Capitalize she. 

He had looked at her with the saddest eyes she had ever seed as she turned and walked away, knowing as a fact that he could have stopped her had he wanted to. That was the last time they had been a room together.

 Surely you mean seen? 

That was the last time they had been in a room together. 

   Overall

You are a good writer. There is no denying or hiding that fact. If I am to be frank, however, this particular piece of work does require a bit of improvement.

I see potential looming behind your story, but it's not quite there yet. There are some things you must be completely and utterly aware of every time you touch your pen to the page or run your fingers across a keyboard. The main things to focus on is substitution, senses, and show not tell. The 'S's, if you will. 

Substitution is something I mentioned to you earlier--for everything you don't tell us, tell us something.

Let's take Aella and Crusoe for an example. When we first met our characters, there was not much we knew about each other. Presuming you had no prior research to our characters beforehand, we as writers kept things out of manifestation, things we didn't even want the other mun to know. 

In the beginning, I left Aella's history sparse. I gave you no information on her background. I did not tell you about Vulcan, or about the Nova. But what did I tell you? I told you what she looked like. I told you how she spoke and acted and what went through her head. For every piece of information I knew I was hiding, I gave you something in return. It keeps the reader interested, giving them enough to go off of. 

The normal human and the normal character has five senses--taste, smell, touch, hear, see. Remember that as a writer, you are opening us up to your character's world. You have to involve most, if not all of the character's senses to what's going around you. Let's take me right now, for example. I am laying on my stomach, my fingers dancing across a smooth, warm keyboard. My gaze is slightly distracted from the editing I'm doing by the green blinking of my phone, alerting me to a new message. Beneath me, I can feel the sewn blanket from my bed press against my bare legs, and my knees are instinctively rather than consciously wrapped around a soft, plush pillow. My frozen numb toes are curled in on themselves in seek of warmth, the only thing distancing them from heat my own laziness, my unwillingness to move. The loud hum of the fan blares continuously above me, where a light shines down on the peculiarly clean surroundings of my room. From my peripheral vision, most of it is cast in hues of green and purple, but if I were to focus, I'd see the blues and yellows of my posters and pictures that litter my three-colored walls.

I'm not going to go on, but do you see what I did? I started taking my senses and describing what was happening. That's your job for your characters. Do some exercises--sit in your room and write how you feel. You're an artist, and when you write, words are your colors, the page your easel. Use it.

Last, but certainly not least, show not tell. I cannot stress this enough. In writing, showing means everything, whereas telling means nothing. 

"Crusoe strives for human companionship almost obsessively but is bad at making friends." That's easy enough to understand, correct? That makes sense. But that's a bit boring. A bit bland. A bit... empty.

"Crusoe spends most of his days attempting his hand at conversations with humans, even though they turn him down frequently. He has taken up the habit of eating in their mess hall, not because he needs to eat, but purely to spend more time with the creatures that elude his grasp so easily. Day after day he pours himself over their literature, such as romance novels, hoping to pick up a trick or two that will come in useful in his next colloquy, but it never seems to go exactly to plan. He misses the companionship he does not even have, and despite working his hardest, cannot seem to master the enigma which is the human behavior." Now, what did I just say? I said the same exact thing as I said in the sentence before. I didn't flat out say it, see, I showed it. By reading it, you as a reader figure out that Crusoe strives for companionship without it being stated plainly. 

In Harry Potter, they didn't stop the movie in the middle of the screen and say, "Oh, by the way, this is the antagonist of the film. He's a bit dense and rude. His name is Malfoy." No, they showed him sticking his nose up at Harry, being condescending and dark, and the people in the theater realized, "Oh, this is the antagonist." 

Of course I read the books, but I was just searching for a comparison to a movie, because movies have no choice but to show instead of tell. We as writers must strive to do the same.

All in all, however, there is promise in your work. I'd love to see where the next chapter goes. Don't give up on this book! I think the plot, if worked upon, could be really promising. Honestly.

Keep calm and write on! 

[creativecritic-blog]

Little Spock part 2

This is the second part to the story. Read the first part here.

-x-

Spock did not have to open his eyes to know that the humans in the starship were not a dream. He could feel the scratchy sheets against him, the same ones that were in the room the Captain had showed him to the night before, the same sheets he had wet with his tears as he had cried himself to sleep. Spock felt small, even for a child, and very miserable. He could understand why it would be good to control emotions, because if he could do it like a true Vulcan, then he wouldn't be feeling so bad.

The word bad, just like the word 'good', is an adjective, not an adverb. An adverb, in case you've forgotten, is basically an adjective that describes a verb. To be grammatically correct, you'd have to change this statement to 'be feeling so badly'. Also, while it's not grammatical, this doesn't sound right. It's very rigid. Suggested change to, 'then he wouldn't feel so badly'. 

Also, good job. The description we know and love comes back here. 

He opened his eyes reluctantly, and lingered in bed for awhile, feeling sorry for himself. He knew his father would be disappointed, so the boy finally extracted himself from the sheets. He was combing his fingers through his hair when a knock came upon his door.

“Yes?” Spock answered, as he moved cautiously towards the door.

One day I'll stop pointing out your commas. When they stop bothering me I will. I promise. 

“Come on, lad,” The dark-haired man at the door said, offering a hand. He was wearing a read shirt, and spoke with an accent Spock was unfamiliar with. “The Captain's asked me to take ye to breakfast, and then a wee check up with the doctor.”

Instead of a comma, put a period. Once again, only use a comma when using said or another word of that nature.

Teheh. Do you mean the color red?

Spock wondered why the humans were so interested in poking, prodding, and examining him. Perhaps they had never seen a Vulcan before. He also found it odd that the humans were always wanting him to hold their hands. No one on Vulcan did this, except that occasionally his mother would hold onto his hand, so Spock deduced that it was a human ritual. He went along with it, noting that this hand did not feel as warm and agreeable as the hand of the Captain.

Suggested take out of the word 'that'. It's unnecessary and stops the flow. 

I've tried rereading this a few times, but it still sounds a bit awkward. Suggested that you add a few more words, such as 'as it did with the hand of'. 

Captain isn't capitalized. 

“Here you are, Sugar,” a dark complected woman said, bringing a bowl to him after he and the red shirted man, who had revealed his name to be Mr. Scott, had sat down at a table. She placed the bowl in front of Spock, smiling. “A nice bowl of plomeek, just like you always have for breakfast.”

Not capitalized. It's a pet name, not a proper noun.

The woman quickly pressed her fingertips to her mouth, as though she had said something wrong. Spock did not understand what it could have been—in fact he was impressed that she was aware enough of Vulcan culture to know that plomeek was a common breakfast food. Spock thought nothing of it as he dug into the plomeek. This he enjoyed much more than the ice cream from the day before. Though the ice cream had a very sweet and pleasing taste, it had been just as foreign to him as everything else was. Plomeek was familiar: it was the closest to home Spock could be right now, so he savored it.

You lacked a comma between 'fact' and 'he'. 

The word begins to sound repetitive. I bolded the one I believe you should change. Use more descriptive words as an alias for ploomeek. 

After breakfast Spock did indeed find himself back in the Sickbay, which he was quickly becoming familiar, and bored with. The Captain came in and spoke to the doctor as if Spock was not in the same room with them. Spock came to realize that this had something to do with him being a child. For some reason it seemed that this was why they often forgot he was there, and could hear them. They said nothing that sounded useful to him, though there was much medical jargon that he had no knowledge of. All in all Spock was uncomfortable and bored, and at last he voiced this to the Captain.

Lower case.

I'm gonna address this in the fifth bullet along with that mistake, so just skip there.

Lower case.

As if Spock were not there. Conditional clause. 

This is where your stylistic tendency to put a comma between every conjunction starts to hurt you. In both of theses instances you are grouping the two thoughts together, and in the first one you are ending the thought only the second time. (Instead of saying He was quickly becoming familiar with and bored with, you said, He was quickly becoming familiar and bored with). This is correct writing, but putting the comma separates the two thoughts so that it no longer has the application. Does this make any sense? 

Lower case. 

“You're bored, are you?” The Captain's eyes glittered and he smiled boyishly.

Well, yes, he's bored. If Spock just voiced he's bored then he's obviously bored. I don't understand why this would be a question, unless he worded it in an incomprehensible way. 

“Very,” Spock answered truthfully.

“Come on, then,” The Captain clapped Spock on the back merrily, and though Spock wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, the Captain's merry and light attitude seemed to rub off on him. Spock felt the cloud of upset that had been around him since he'd found himself on this ship lift up a bit. He followed the Captain with a small smile curling his lips, and a growing anticipation for something exciting.

You already used a form of this word in this paragraph. Try these.

“This is the Bridge of the ship,” The Captain explained, before stepping off the turbolift, with Spock right beside him.

Bridge is not a proper noun. Do not capitalize it as such. 

“Wow,” Spock breathed, taking it all in. His pointed ears perked up at the sounds of the controls and monitors. His keen eyes scanned the room, first landing on the woman who had brought him the bowl of pomleek at breakfast, and then the others in the bridge. He moved carefully from place to place, and person to person, itching to touch something but knowing better. Finally he came to stand with the Captain again, as they looked out at the vast sea of stars and planets. Jim curled his arm protectively and affectionately around the boy, as both of them watched the Enterprise hurtle through space. “Fascinating,” Spock said, with awe.

Isn't is plomeek?

Lower case.

That comma!

Italicize.

I just wanted to point out that this made me smile. Is all.

Your description is back in swinging glory! Of course, there could be more--there always could be more--but it's beautiful. This half has a much more promising start.  

“Some things never change,” Said Sulu, eying the Captain knowingly, and then giving a friendly wink to the boy. The meaning of the gesture was lost on Spock, who merely looked confusedly at the helmsman.

Lower case.

See bullet one.

This is really splitting hairs, I know but... Spock is new to the ship. He wouldn't know Sulu was the helmsman. He most likely would know very little about the ship in general. He's no older than six, after all. 

“Keptin,” Spock and Jim both turned towards the voice.

Period, not a comma.

“What is it, Ensign?”

Lower case.

Chekov pointed to what Kirk and Sulu had missed as they were conversing over the diminutive Spock.

“There vas a ship...”

All three of the men, and the young Vulcan, stared at the deceiving emptiness of space.

Well this sounds awkward with the comma. It separates the nouns of this sentence. 

Also, wouldn't Kirk first check the sensors? Did it give off any power? Did it explode? Was it a sort of mirage? The main viewer is usually used as a last step, not the first one. 

“It might have cloaked,” Kirk said, and he gave out orders as all members of the bridge scrambled to find the cloaked ship and ready for a possible attack.

Kirk sat down in his Captain's chair, and instinctively pulled the small Vulcan close to him, and into his lap, protectively. Spock was stiff in his arms, unsure how to react as the strong arms held him. He had never experienced male affection, and it was puzzling. Spock only knew men in the context of Vulcan, which meant they were not men who would touch, or comfort, or show emotion in the brazen way that this Starship Captain did. Spock took the time to study the expression on Kirk's face.

Would you mind if I rewrote this sentence? No? Good, thanks. Kirk sat down in his captain's chair, instinctively pulling the small Vulcan close to him and into his lap protectively. Alright. There we go. Suggested change to that, because it reads awkwardly as is.

Arms is used twice here. Use my savior that I suggested earlier for merry. I use that every single day for writing. It really does help. 

Neither words should be capitalized. 

Good job sticking to Spock's point of view this time! Also, however, I feel all this scrambling is a bit premature. Can we have some, "Subspace silence sir," "Nothing on our sensors, captain," etc.? Anything to give us some perspective? 

The Captain's lips were set into a tight line, his jaw squared, his eyebrows drawn in concentration, and his hazel eyes blazed with an intensity that Spock was certainly not accustomed to. The unknown existed in the Captain's expressive eyes, and Spock felt oddly drawn to them, and lost in them, because he could not call upon logic to decipher what those eyes meant. No one on Vulcan had those kind of eyes.

Lower case.

Beautiful paragraph. Honestly. Stunning. 

Spock decided that the Captain was very fascinating, and he made it a secret mission to study the human more intensely.

Lower case. I'm gonna find a song on Youtube that says lower case somewhere in it and I will post it every time I see this mistake I shall do it. 

The stand-off with the cloaked ship lasted for what seemed like hours to Spock, and at last there had been a battle, which spiraled down into a chase which had put her to her limits, but the Enterprise had won out in the end. Spock had never felt such excitement, and such shame. Shame at the ferocity with which his human emotions had surged forth, throwing him far out of balance and into a frenzied state of being that was not at all Vulcan.

Italics.

Comma. Again, it's where your stylistic differences begin to bother the grammatical accuracy. 

As wonderfully intriguing as this paragraph was, it was anticlimatic. I was kind of upset that we didn't get to see hear, feel the drama. It was more of an absent note about what happened than a reading. 

His mood had become sour, and the doctor had made an irritating comment about 'someone' needing a nap. Spock had grown defensive and even angry, explaining that Vulcans were strong, and superior, and did not need naps. Kirk and the doctor had exchanged glances that seemed to be meaningful in a way that Spock could not understand. He was beginning to get the impression that the ship's crew knew him. But that was neither logical, nor possible.

Ahh, yes! The exchanged glances! Possibly the best part of TOS. 

Your comma interfering again. 

Spock curled up in bed that night, with the only familiarity being the intense feeling of being alone. Never in his life had he felt so tiny, and so insignificant. He was so far away from his home, a speck of a boy among the stars, with not even the cold glance of his father's eyes to remind him where he ought to be and how much he failed on a daily basis.

I suggest you take out 'with'. It's unnecessary and flows better.

Okay, you can keep the comma this time! But if so, you'll have to sacrifice 'and'. Again, it flows.

Very good writing here. And everywhere. You're good.

Spock was alone among the Vulcans, and he was alone here, among the humans.

Past tense. Spock had been alone. But otherwise, good dramatic use of a single sentence break. 

He curled his legs closer to his body, and hugged his knees to his chest. Spock struggled against the horrible feelings that wanted to drown him. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, willing himself not to cry. One night he would finally win, and would not go to bed staining his pillow with his shamefully leaking emotions.

Comma. You can avoid all of that if you changed it to body, hugging his knees... 

It would not be this night.

The end of the last paragraph and then this one 

Spock turned his face into the pillowcase, flushed hot with shame, and wept.

Dramatic and gorgeous ending. Perfect for a break. 

-x-

Kirk paced outside the young Vulcan's door. The need to enter and check on the boy was overwhelming Kirk rather quickly. He thought about how he would have felt at six years old, to be in a strange place, with a group of people he did not know, or understand. He reminded himself that this was Spock, and that Spock's feelings would be logically controlled as opposed to Jim's. But then Kirk mentally kicked himself, reminding himself of another glaring factor: this was six year old Spock. The young Vulcan had already shown greater displays of emotion than his elder version, and so Kirk could only deduce that the child had not yet learned to control himself in the Vulcan way.

Once again, stylistic breaking up the joint meaning. 

Good. Switching at the break, using emotion. Good good good. 

Kirk's heart ached for the child Spock had been, and for the child Spock had not been allowed to be.

Beautiful sentence, along with the next one.

That was what made up his mind.

Kirk entered the room quietly. The boy was curled on his side, back to the door, pale green legs poking long and slender and drawn up from beneath an adult sized science officer tunic. The sight touched Kirk deeply, and affection surged within him for the small boy.

Kirk sat down on the bed gingerly so as not to wake Spock. He smiled fondly at the pointed ears which looked so oversized for the tiny child, and the way Spock's jet hair was slightly mussed. There were obvious tear streaks glistening on the child's cheeks, and Jim could hardly resist the urge to lean forward, and wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb. Lastly, Spock's thumb was tucked securely in his mouth, and now Kirk could not contain his affection any longer. Very gently he touched the black hair, and smoothed it out, tucking a few of the longer strands behind the pointed ears.

This sounds odd, as if you were marking off a list when you were doing no such thing. I suggest you change it, perhaps to something like, It was then that Kirk realized that Spock's thumb... 

The sleeping boy shifted minutely, and nestled into Kirk's touch.

Finally Kirk allowed his hand to fall away, and just watched Spock sleeping. The boy's chest rose and fell rhythmically, and his eyes moved beneath closed and fragile lids. It was only now under this silent scrutiny that Kirk observed things about the boy that he had missed until now.

Suggested change to just watching Spock sleeping. It flows better, but stay true to your style.

You're in past tense. What I use to remember is anything in past tense could have been written from three seconds to three hundred years ago. Meaning now makes no sense and should be changed to then. 

Spock's bare legs, and his forearms, sticking out of rolled up sleeves, bore large patches of dark green or even black splotches that Jim recognized to be bruises. No doubt McCoy had made note of the bruises when he had examined the boy. Jim recalled Spock confiding in him one time that he had been bullied as a child, and was often involved in brawls, before he had learned to control his emotions. Kirk deduced that these nasty looking bruises must be evidence of such schoolyard fights, but he would be sure to question the child about them in the morning anyway.

Jim watched Spock for a few moments longer, particularly enjoying the flutter of Spock's black lashes, and the bit of drool that leaked out around his tucked thumb.

At last Jim rose to leave, but as he stood up, a small sound of protest arose from the direction of the sleeping boy. Kirk turned so he could see, but Spock was not awake. He was however shifting, and moving in the bed, stretching his long legs and tangling them in the sheets. His thumb was no longer a comfort, but instead the boy's hands were clasped tightly into fists. The expression on his face had gone from peaceful, to pitiful, and a small cry escaped Spock. Spock gasped, shifted more violently this time, and began to thrash about and struggle.

“Spock!” Kirk called, and grabbed the boy's thin shoulders and shook them gently attempting to wake him. Spock continued to thrash, and kick, and strike out, raining his miniature fists onto Kirk's head with surprising force. “Spock, Spock!”

The boy's eyes flew open, wide, dark, and swimming with tears. The fear was wild and evident in Spock's face, and he tried to get away.

“Let me GO!”

“Spock, it's alright! It's alright, it's me—it's Jim. Captain Kirk. Please, Spock...” The boy struggled against Kirk's grasp a bit longer, and then his stubborn attempts diminished, and he stayed still. “There you are, that's a good boy,” Kirk soothed.

Spock seemed to look at him hesitantly at Kirk's gentle compliment, and Jim realized that Spock had probably never heard that phrase. The sadness of that struck Kirk hard, and he sat back down on the bed, and held one of Spock's hands in his. The child's hand was so small it practically disappeared into Kirks.

Kirk owns the hand. Kirk's.

“Bad dream?” Kirk asked, giving Spock a rueful smile. Spock nodded in silent response. “I have them too, sometimes.”

“You...do?” Spock asked, very quietly.

Space between the ellipses and 'do'.

“Yes,” Kirk said simply, and Spock seemed relieved. The two studied each other for moments, Kirk with affection, and Spock with a mingled curiosity and sleepiness. “You do know you are a good boy, don't you?” Kirk ventured.

“I am not,” Spock said, and the corners of his lips pulled downwards, his eyebrows knit together in sadness, and he looked away from Kirk in favor of the wall.

“You are a good boy, and you need to hear it,” Kirk insisted, emphatically.

“What you think is good may not be so in my culture, the culture of my ancestors,” Spock said. “Anyway...” Spock glanced to a loose thread on the bedsheet now, and began to toy with it. “Why are you in my room?”

Kirk's expression softened at that.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Like my mother,” Spock blurted out, before considering. “She hasn't been, though. Father told her it was illogical and that she was making me weak and...dependent...upon her emotions.”

Now it sounds as if we're jumped back to Spock's point of view? 

Space after the first and second ellipses. 

Only Vulcan child could bandy about such a vocabulary with relative ease.

“She isn't making you weak, Spock. She loves you,” Kirk explained, but it was evident from the expression on Spock's face that he didn't completely understand. “Spock, how do you feel when she does those human things? When she checks on you in the night, tucks you in, hugs you, speaks to you gently...how do you feel?”

Space. 

Spock was silent for a very long time. He continued to play with the string, though he stared at the wall looking very conflicted. Perhaps Kirk had asked too much of the boy, after all he knew that a discussion of what Spock 'felt' would not ever be encouraged upon his home planet.

Kirk was surprised when Spock began to answer him tentatively.

“I...I feel...very...warm inside...here,” Spock placed his hands over his tummy, where his heart was, “And...happy,” Spock swallowed hard, and gave Kirk a guilty look at having confessed such a thing.

(x)

See above.

Kirk smiled, his eyes dancing with pride for Spock's honest answer, and affection for the boy.

“That's your mother's love you're feeling,” Kirk said quietly. “Close your eyes, and focus on that feeling that goes here,” Kirk pressed his palm gently to Spock's belly. Spock closed his eyes obediently. “That's it, that's it,” Kirk encouraged, his voice lowering to a whisper.

The flat line of Spock's lips began to shift into a small smile. His breathing began to slow down, and even out. Kirk could feel the small heartbeat beneath his hand. Spock had drifted back to sleep, just as” Kirk had hoped.

There's a quotation mark on the loose! (I'm attempting to be humorous again, aren't I?)

“No more nightmares tonight,” Kirk whispered, and he straightened the sheets around Spock, tucked him in, and placed a loving kiss to the boy's fringed forehead. “Sweet dreams, Spock.”

My first thought upon ending this was, Just wait until you get to the Pon Farr stage. Good ending for here, good wrap up. Good everything. 

Also, good way to focus on Jim throughout this part. I like the improvement of your focus. 

-x-

“Sample came back,” McCoy explained, as he held up a vial of greenish blood, and Jim stood next to him, both men gazing up at it. “There's a residual charge.”

Suggested period and removal of 'and', as the next statement sounds very stand-alone. 

“What exactly does that mean?” Kirk asked, looking to McCoy, his lips pressed together in a tight line of concern.

“Well, those beams your wild aliens were hurling at you would've killed an ordinary man,” Bones looked pointedly at Kirk. “Would've killed you.”

I'm so lost. What are we talking about? What beams? 

“Me? But I'm no ordinary man,” Kirk smirked. McCoy rolled his eyes, and then continued.

“The molecules in those beams combine with most biological molecules in a real simple way—they 'cause 'em to explode.”

Combined. 

Kirk winced.

“Continue.”

Bones quirked an eyebrow, and gave a small shrug. He peered at the green blood in the vial once again.

“Spock's made up differently than we are, you know that, Jim.”

“Yes, but that doesn't explain why Spock's molecules underwent a reverse-aging process rather than a big bang.”

Please explain what's going on. Are we talking about the beaming up that changed him? Are we sure he's changed and not from another dimension? 

“Eloquent, Jim, and people have told me that I have a horrible bedside manner.”

“I'm a Captain, not a doctor,” Jim said. “You have no excuse.”

(x) Did you think I was kidding?

McCoy pressed his lips together tightly, and rolled the capped glass tube in his hand before placing it back into a rack.

“We don't know what to do about it yet,” McCoy said. “We're going to have to find a way to neutralize the alien molecules.”

“We will find a way,” Jim said, with unwavering resolve.

McCoy knew that look, and the strength of Jim's resolve sometimes gave the doctor an eerie chill. When Kirk set his mind to something, there was no moving him, and McCoy knew how deep the Captain's feelings ran for his First Officer. McCoy could respect that, though he did not understand it. He gave Jim a very solemn look, and squeezed his shoulder gently.

Lower case.

See above.

“We will, Jim. You'll have your Vulcan back in no time.”

Jim gave a subtle nod, hoping he could believe in McCoy's words—believing in them because he needed to.

Kirk held his head high with that hope and resolve as he exited the Sickbay, and wove his way through the halls of the ship to the turbolift. He took the lift and ended up making his way to his cabin on auto-pilot. His mind after all was elsewhere.

Again, your comma.

Suggested change to His mind was, after all, elsewhere. 

Jim stripped of his Captain's tunic, and Starfleet issued slacks and under armor. He sprawled out onto his bed, nude save his underpants, and stared up at the ceiling. Slowly Jim closed his eyes, and thought about the last conversation he and Spock had before they'd gone onto that damn planet.

Off, not of. 

Lower case.

Awkward format. Can we stick to Oxford, please? Jim stripped off his captain's tunic, Starfleet issued slack, and under armor. 

The night before. Spock had been lying here with him, yes, just here... Kirk drew his hand along the empty space that Spock had occupied. The two of them had rested against each other, warm, and naked, skin upon skin, surrounded by the heady scent of their physical pursuits. Such interactions always left Spock mellow, and less guarded than usual, and Jim enjoyed those long moments basking in Spock's afterglow just as much as the physical act itself—perhaps even more.

But this last time, Jim had ruined Spock's post-orgasm state by pressing too hard on certain aspects of their 'friendship' as Spock still called it. In Spock's compromised state, Jim had hoped that he might get more honest and heartfelt answers from Spock about how what he felt, but instead Jim had instigated an argument. He should have dropped the subject when Spock had bristled at it, but Jim had been angry that even in such a state Spock could still not talk to Jim about these things. Sometimes Jim's emotions ran away with him, blinding him to Spock's Vulcan heritage, demanding that Spock respond to him in some familiar, human way, to mirror Jim's feelings back to him when they were in private. Kirk had gotten so wrapped up in his own hurt at the others indifference and denial, and both men had ended up shouting, fighting, and Spock had gathered his scattered clothing hastily. Jim had shoved him out the door, Spock in his undergarments, tripping over his pants that he'd been putting on, and holding his shirt in one hand.

Suggested comma after 'friendship'. It runs into each other and sounds very awkward. 

You use the word 'Spock' quite a bit. Don't go for pronouns, but perhaps substitute a few for first officer or Vulcan. 

Other's, not others. 

The beginning of the sentence does not match the end. He got so wrapped up that he would make more sense. So, change and to that. 

This was not the first time in his life that Kirk had acknowledged his own quick temper and fiery emotions, nor the first time he had wished that he would not have acted so irrationally. There was something to be said for logic, after all.

Kirk had meant to apologize to Spock. The next morning they exploring the planet with the landing party. Spock was being aloof and unemotional, as if nothing had happened the night before, and so Kirk had held onto his anger and hurt as stubbornly as Spock held onto his pride.

Now Spock had been taken from him, and there was only this child; this poor lost child.

This poor, lost child. Remember that multiple adjectives need commas. 

“I'm sorry, Spock,” Jim breathed, as he continued to stare at the ceiling, feeling overwhelmed and out of sorts without the constant rock that was his First Officer, his friend, and the man who held Kirk's heart whether that man wanted it or not.

Lower case.

Whether he wanted it or not might sound better. You used man just a few words prior. 

“I'm sorry,” Jim repeated, his voice cracking.

He was sorry for their argument, for his temper, for trying to force anything onto Spock, sorry for the boy who was alone among stranger, the boy who cried himself to sleep, who didn't know how to respond when Kirk hugged him, the boy who had given so much up to try and gain the approval of his father. He was sorry for asking Spock anything in return, when it was Spock who deserved to be loved so deeply, and it was only Jim who could.

Strangers. There's more than one stranger.

I believe you need another 'for' in here. He was sorry for asking Spock for anything in return. 

Now it was questionable as to whether or not that version of his Spock would be returned to him. Jim did not want to consider it, but there it was. No, his Spock would come back to him.

Jim was roused from his depressing meditation by a faint knock upon his door.

He padded barefoot across the small space, and the door slid open at his command. Standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, was Spock. The boy looked up at him.

“May I come in?”

“Ah, yes—of course,” Jim was caught off guard by the timing. Just moments ago he had been thinking of Spock, the adult and the child, and his emotions were in a shambles and then the boy showed up as if summoned. Kirk dragged his hand through his golden-brown hair. “Is everything alright?”

“You said my name,” Spock said, gazing hard at Kirk. “But...I do not believe it was me who you were speaking to.”

Space.

Is he gazing hard at him because he's in his underwear? ;)

The two kept a steady gaze, as Kirk turned the question over in his mind.

“How did you hear me?” Kirk asked, less out of curiosity, and more so out of the need to buy a bit of time so he could decide how to explain. The young boy was highly intelligent, and Kirk had a feeling that the boy would have found out eventually.

“I...was listening,” Spock confessed. “I can hear you if I press my ear to the other side of that door,” Spock said, motioning to the door which opened to their shared bathroom from Kirk's side.

S-s-s-s-s-s-space. (I sounded like a snake there. Oh my Parseltongue...)

Also, Vulcans have super hearing. It's totally plausible he heard Kirk without meaning to. 

“And you just happened to be pressing those pointy ears to the door, did you?” Kirk asked, unable to help his amusement.

Spock looked mildly abashed, scuffed his bare foot against the floor for a moment, avoiding Kirk's gaze.

Suggested changes for it to flow better:

Spock, looking mildly abashed, scuffed his bare foot against the floor for a moment, avoiding Kirk's gaze. 

Spock looked mildly abashed as he scuffed his bare foot against the floor for a moment, avoiding Kirk's gaze. 

Spock looked mildly abashed, scuffing his bare foot against the floor for a moment, avoiding Kirk's gaze. 

“Yes, sir,” Spock answered.

“I'm not Sir, I'm Kirk, remember?” Kirk reminded the boy, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He patted an empty spot next to him, and Spock sat down next to the Captain.

Lower case.

See above.

“You asked me a question, and I'll be as honest with you as I can.”

That's Kirk speaking, right? 

Kirk took a deep breath, and then began.

“I do know you, Spock. I know you as a grown man. I...I care for you very much, in fact,” Kirk tugged gently on the oversized Science Officer's tunic. “This belongs to him—to you—ah, the other you. We were on a planet together, we were attacked, we barely got away. We were beamed back onto the ship--”

Characteristic of Kirk. Still needs a space, though.

“But he wasn't,” Spock breathed. “I was.”

“That's right.”

Both were silent, as Spock seemed to stare at the wall in awe. Jim supposed that the child was processing all of it in his silence, probably calculating, and formulating many questions. Instead of asking any of them, Spock changed the subject to something less daunting.

Because 'probably' refers to 'calculating' and 'formulating', the comma needs to leave. 

“I enjoy it here,” He confessed, instead. “Mr. Scott told me stories earlier. He said that they were folktales of Scottish origin, from his people. I found them interesting.”

Lower case. 

“Oh?” Kirk asked, amused. “Which one was your favorite story, Spock?”

“The Silkie Tale,” Spock answered. “It is a tale of a being that is two beings in one. He is a seal while at sea, but beneath his gray sealskin he is a human.” Spock's small hands drifted towards his face as he spoke, and he touched his cheeks.

“Rather like you?” Kirk supplied.

“No!” Spock straightened, and puffed his chest proudly. “I am not human beneath my skin. I am Vulcan, inside and outside!”

Kirk smiled sadly.

“Of course you are,” Kirk patted Spock's knee. The child drew away from his touch in a fit of pride.

Both were silent for a few moments.

“You know, it's okay for you to like it here, among us humans,” Kirk said gently. “It's alright for you to be Vulcan and human.”

“I'm not!” Spock shouted, sliding off of the bed, and clenching his fists defiantly. “I am Vulcan, and I do not like it here. I have changed my mind, and I am going to bed,” Spock stalked towards Kirk's door, turning only when he reached it. “Do not disturb me,” He said, eyes hard and dark, before he ducked out of the room and left Kirk alone.

“Just another one of the many times I manage to put my foot in my mouth,” Kirk muttered, as he flopped back onto his bed, feeling more worn out than before.

-x-

Spock didn't sleep that night. His anger and upset roiled so fiercely inside that he spent most of the night with a terrible stomach ache. He spent the dark hours tuning into that anger, and that pain, and trying to reign it in and under some control. He felt that it shouldn't have been so hard to do it. Other children Spock's age were already learning, most well trained, where Spock still floundered. What if he could never master his emotions?

Technically, it's well-trained. 

Good switch to Spock. This focus is making me happy!

His fists clenched harder, nails cutting into his palms. He was desperate to be the same as the other children, desperate to bring honor rather than shame to his father, but deep down he wanted to unleash his anger in a mini-explosion rather than contain it. His eyes were wide in the darkness, staring at nothing. He listened to his breathing. He tried to meditate, but found concentration harder than usual. His mind kept drifting to too many things: the disappointment his father must have in his son, the way the bedsheets felt different from the ones at home, the Captain's smile—with both warmed him and infuriated him—the way the children jeered at him, his unexplainable desire to hug his mother, never letting himself hug her back, always feeling lost and alone...

Lower case.

I think you're looking for which.

The word is inexplicable. 

I understand what you're trying to say here, but it's phrased awkwardly. Perhaps change it to his inexplicable desire to hug his mother, as he never let himself hug her back, always allowing himself to feel so lost and alone? I don't know. Let me think on it. 

Finally morning had come, and Spock still lay curled up into a tight ball, his fists ready to fight. He felt that if he moved, everything would fall apart.

Good good. I liked that. 

He was unsure of how long he continued to lay so still, but at last a knock came to his door. He didn't move, didn't speak, simply coiled in upon himself and stared at the door. He felt detached as he listened to the soft knock come again, and a female voice calling his name. Still he did not reply. At last the door opened; there must have been some sort of override.

Two women stepped into Spock's room. The blonde woman Spock recognized as the nurse who was regularly with Dr. McCoy when Spock visited the Sickbay, and the other was Uhura. Nurse Chapel carried a tray, upon it a bowl, and the way she smiled at Spock made him itch to explode.

Lower case.

Nope. Yesterday she was the 'woman who brought him the plomeek'. Now she has a name? We didn't witness that happen. 

“Go,” Spock said tightly.

“I've brought you some breakfast, dear,” the nurse said, and she and Uhura moved closer.

“It was getting late,” Uhura said in a tone she probably meant to be soothing. “We were getting worried. Don't you feel well?”

Spock sat up, his fingernails digging deeper into his palms, and it felt oddly satisfactory. He knew his controls were weak, and he could feel his anger building into a force that was about to boil over.

“Go. I do not want you here,” Spock snapped, glaring at the two women.

Nurse Chapel knelt down next to him with the tray. Spock took in her human skin tone, rounded human ears, and most of all; her human eyes.

“A few bites, Spock,” She lifted the spoon. “Plomeek soup, it's delicious.”

Period, not a comma.

I like that we have Christine's persistence here, both as a nurse and as a friend. It was canon that Christine felt for Spock, and to see her doing this kind of stuff is very in character.

While the familiar food had comforted him days ago, today the opposite was true. It was merely another reminder that he was away from home, that he was different, that no one here could really understand him...and here was this woman with her patronizing tone of voice, her overly bright smile, and her stupid emotional human eyes pretending to know something about him! No one knew Spock. No one. He was completely alone, and in a burst of pain and anger he surged forward with a cry and shoved the tray upwards, out of her hands. She cried out in shock, and the soup rained down upon the nurse and Spock, hot burning drops splattering Spock's skin but he did not care.

Space.

You just used a form of that word a few sentences earlier. Use our merry friend! 

That seemed awkward the way it was written and tacked on at the end. Perhaps the use of -- would make it seem more fluid?

He was on top of the nurse and raining down punches on any part of her he could find, his Vulcan fists small but powerful, his eyes squeezed tightly closed as everything poured out of him and onto her. He could hear the woman but he didn't know what they were saying. Uhura grabbed his waist, and pulled him off the nurse. Spock's eyes flew open, and he turned his raging emotions onto her instead; punching, kicking, screaming out desperately. Nurse Chapel stumbled, slipped on the spilled soup, and pulled herself up again. She pressed a button in the wall, and hailed the Captain as Uhura and Spock struggled. The six-year-old Vulcan was almost too much for her to handle.

I think you meant women. 

The comma. 

Lower case.

“Spock,” Uhura kept speaking to him in a calm voice. He continued to struggle with her, gasping, yelling curses in Vulcan, hitting any bit of her body he could reach. “Sshhh, Spock, it's okay, it's alright, calm down, baby,” Uhura continued, remaining so calm that Spock couldn't help but begin to feel it.

Spock's struggles began to lessen, and his gasps turned into sobs. He and Uhura collapsed onto the floor in the soupy mess, and she pulled him close to her and held him tightly, one hand pressed to the back of his wet black hair. His face rested on her shoulder, buried there in shame, as he cried, body racked with his sobs. Uhura rocked him.

Perhaps you can change some of these to a different tense at the end, like lesson, his gasps turning into sobs? 

Spock heard footsteps, and then a familiar hand on his back, large, warm, and steadying. Spock sniffed and shuddered with the intensity of his weeping, and slowly lifted his heavy head and opened his tearful eyes. It as the Captain, kneeling and looking at him with hazel eyes full of concern and care, and without thinking Spock let go of Uhura, and wrapped his arms around the Captain's neck. Kirk pulled the boy close, and stroked his back gently, as Spock rested his head on one strong, broad shoulder.

See above bullet.

Lower case.

See above. 

No comma is needed here at all. 

The Captain didn't need to say anything; his presence was enough. Spock did not know how it was possible, but in the moment he did not care for the answer, he simply felt safe, and loved, in those strong arms. His crying began to calm.

The comma is actually grammatically incorrect here. Semi-colon or a dash (--) would be needed instead.

No comma is needed here either, but, you know. 

“S-sorry,” Spock said quietly, sniffing.

“It's alright,” Kirk said, the hand on Spock's back moved up to stroke his hair. “Everybody has a bad day, now and then.”

These commas, man. 

Spock concentrated on the feel of the Captain's fingers sliding through his hair, gently massaging his scalp, bringing him the deepest sense of calm and lulling him into a comforting and weightless near-sleep.

Lower case. 

Good paragraph. I liked the description. I understand that feeling well. 

“Want to go home,” Spock said faintly.

“I know,” Kirk responded, continuing to pet Spock's hair lovingly.

“Do not belong...anywhere...”

Space after the ellipses after 'belong'. 

“Spock,” Jim whispered, shifting the sleepy boy a bit. “That isn't true,” Jim lifted one of the boy's bruised hands, and pressed it to the center of his chest. Spock could feel the Captain's heartbeat. “You belong here, Spock. Always.”

Unneeded comma.

Lower case. 

There was such conviction in the Captain's eyes, that Spock believe him, and the boy nodded minutely. He rested his head back down onto the Captain's shoulder, but kept his palm over that heartbeat, allowing the steady rhythm to bring him peace, and the sleep which had eluded him.

Lower case.

Past tense--believed. 

See first bullet.

Once again, the comma takes away from the joint meaning. To bring him peace and to bring him sleep, remember. 

Kirk moved carefully, so as not to disturb the sleeping boy in his arms. He sat down on the edge of Spock's bed, and laid him down carefully, and took time settling the covers over his small form.

No comma.

Suggested change to carefully, taking time . 

“You're so good with him,” Uhura whispered, hovering nearby, and watching Jim as the Captain watching Spock sleep with the deepest love in his eyes.

Lower case.

Past tense--watched. 

“I know Spock better than anyone else,” Jim said. “We're very...close.”

Ellipses space. 

Uhura nodded knowingly, but didn't say anything. She left the Captain's side to help nurse Chapel, who was cleaning the splattered soup from the floor.

Capitalize, remember? 

Also, these two women just took a beating from Spock. I know they're pretty strong and amazing and stuff, but is no one going to tend to the wounds? They must have been injured pretty badly. He might be a kid, but kids can hurt too, and as a Vulcan he's super strong. 

Jim stayed for many moments on the edge of the bed, first watching Spock breathe in his sleep, and then turning to rest his chin in his palm and stare past the women who were cleaning the last splatters of plomeek.

He had never spoken to Spock about his childhood. It had never occurred to broach such a topic with Spock, as Jim was reluctant to speak of his own childhood, he did not tread that ground. Now there was no asking. Bits of Spock's childhood were here now, alive, breathing, crying, and screaming. Knowing such things about Spock was both uncomfortable and revealing, and in a way warm and inviting, for Spock did not often reveal himself to Jim, and the Captain held tight and drew near to any shred of Spock that was ever revealed, for he found that he needed as much as Spock was willing to give him.

Comma splice. Change to a semi-colon (;) or dash (--).

And, you know, injuring. Are we not going to address that he just beat up two people at all? No? I mean, he can be forgiven, but at least talk about it, right?

Lower case.

You're looking for an adverb. tighly, not tight. 

Kirk felt that over the short days this child had been with him, that he had discovered more of these pieces, and he could feel his own bond with Spock grow even stronger because of this. His eyes were opening to his First Commander in new ways. His understanding of the controlled, reserved, Vulcan and his strict self-imposed denial of his human half, was becoming less a thing of confusion for Jim, as he could see more clearly now Spock's struggle with both halves of his nature. A deep sadness washed over Kirk. Had Spock ever had any fun as a child? Had he ever giggled so hard that he'd cried? Had he ever enjoyed a hug from his mother, rather than growing stiff in her arms? This boy seemed to both welcome and shy away from affection. A constant battle: six years old and fighting a war. The word “inhumane” came to Jim's mind. It wasn't right for a child to have such burdens weighing him down, to have to make such adult decisions, and blot out parts of himself only to fit into a cultural norm.

You used that already in the sentence. I believe your second use was unintentional. Take out the that I bolded. 

Lower case.

No comma here, as you're ending your list of adjectives, not continuing it. 

This comma, too, does not belong here. 

Let's take a moment to cry for Spock feels and the heavy reminiscence I see in Aella's character. 

It was then that Jim decided: he would get Spock to smile, to laugh, to have some fun before McCoy found a way to bring the adult Spock back to him. Here Spock was among his mother's people, and no one else would ever know if he let go and experienced the simple pleasures of childhood as most earth children did. Spock deserved this.

You're looking for a semi-colon (;), not a colon (:). 

Earth should be capitalized. It is a proper noun (though technically an adjective in this sentence).

   Overall

The second half, honestly, was much more developed, focused, and well-thought out than the first. The amount of emotions you used in your writing was simply exquisite. The character development throughout the story was very solid, and you remained mostly true to all the canon characters. 

You need to watch out for unneeded commas and comma splices. It makes your usually fluid work choppy and awkward at times.

Is this the ending? If so, it leaves us a bit questioning, though it does end on a strong note.

I'm still a bit confused with the whole conversation in the sickbay. What rays are they talking about? The transporter beams? Why was the captain unaffected? I'm positive this piece was less serious as it was leisure, so things like that weren't thought up, but if you want to submit this other places, keep in mind that's something you might have to come up with.

Either way, good job. Your writing is amazing! Keep calm and write on. 

[creativecritic-blog]

Working title is "Little Spock" which sucks.

All edits will be in block quotes after every paragraph (or less, if not needed). I will bold things I need to talk about and will talk about each one in bulleted letters. (first bold, first bullet, second bold, second bullet, etc.) 

Let's get started! :]

Part 1

Jim and Spock ran through the dense jungle, thick leaves and spiny vines slapping them as they shoved their way through, being chased by the planets natives. Roots and rocks threatened to trip them, as they ran with phasers drawn, Kirk shouting into his communicator. Spock had tried a Vulcan pinch on one of their pursuers before the chase had began, before the conflict had boiled over to this scalding fury, but it had been unsuccessful. Spock hypothesized that the beings had a different neurological wiring, and that perhaps their pressure points were located at different areas of their bodies. As it was now, he had no opportunity for further experimentation.

First of all, love it. Your writing is so beautiful and instantly captivating. You also have a unique and correct way of portraying Spock, using language he'd use. Always important for writing from a character's perspective.

That sounded a bit odd. 'Being chased'. It sounded like a different tense than everything else. I suggest change to something like, 'the planet's natives on their heels in pursuit'. 

The planet owns the natives, the planet isn't plural. Planet's, not planets. 

This sounded completely interjected and random. Perhaps instead of 'as' try 'and'? Sounds much more fluid in my opinion. 

You're looking for begun, not began. Wrong tense.

The natives were gaining on them, which was logical, as they knew the terrain far better than Kirk or Spock could, though Spock had studied it extensively prior to beaming down. Of course if the Captain hadn’t been so gung-ho and plunged into things in such a human, emotional, manner…then they might not be running right now, dodging bolts of light that the natives cast from their palms towards the fleeing Captain and First Officer.

'Gung-ho' isn't exactly a word Spock would most likely use in regular thought, but I'll let it slide.

After ellipses, put a space. 

Neither captain nor first officer should be capitalized. They are not proper nouns. 

Spock heard Kirk yelling at Scotty to beam them. Spock’s Vulcan reflexes were not quick enough to dodge every burst of light as he and the Captain ran—the fact that Jim had not yet been hit was only the chance of sheer dumb luck, as it often was for the Captain. But one of the bolts hit Spock right between the shoulders, just before beam up.

If you're to keep this sentence, take out the comma between shoulders and just. It automatically puts a break where no break should be. I do suggest you change the wording, though. You were devoted to senses and suddenly you jump off of them. You're allowed to, of course, for your style, but it's just a bit anticlimactic  if I'm being honest. 

Spock’s vision danced with red spots, and then went black.

The first thing he felt was a hard, cool surface, beneath his small hands. Spock was curled up, tucked in on himself, afraid and ashamed. The last thing he remembered was the gritty feel of dirt beneath his hands, and the taste of it in his mouth. He had been surrounded by his peers in the Vulcan heat of midday. They’d been jeering at him for his weakness. Earther, they taunted him. The filthy tear streaks on his face only confirmed that they were right—they really were. He wasn’t like them. He looked like them, but he was different. Spock gasped, sniffed, and then went still. The scents and voices were unfamiliar. He lifted his head slowly, taking in blurry faces. Spock had never seen any of these human men before.

I don't technically have any edits here but I just want to say I love this a whole lot. It was very clear immediately what had happened without you saying it flat out. Good job. 

Kneeling on the floor where Spock should have been after beam up, was a much smaller version of Spock, no more than six years old. He was huddled, and so small and thin looking. Jim turned to the Vulcan boy who was hugging his knees, and his mouth fell open, agape. Kirk knelt. Scotty had come over as well, and stared at the two of them concernedly, but he appeared unsure of what to say.

You switch whose view it is here. Which is fine, but honestly a bit awkward. If you were more into Spock's point of view, if it were further along, it'd be okay, but since you just had a moment where you could have switched it to Kirk and didn't, it's a bit weird. Try to stay to one view for one length of time and make it obviously separated with a chapter break or the start of a new chapter.

Also, how does Kirk know it's Spock? He might look similar, but it wouldn't be automatic. Perhaps Kirk can ask him, "Spock?" and when Spock reacts to the name assume that's who it is.

“Spock?” Kirk said gently, reaching hesitantly for the boy, and then gently lifting his chin.

Spock jerked his head to the side, not wanting the human to see his tearful face.

“It's alright,” Kirk said, soothingly. “I'm your friend, I won't hurt you. You can trust me...”

Spock sniffled, and then slowly turned his head, and looked up at the human through swimming dark eyes.

“Where am I?” Spock asked, resting his chin upon his knees.

Woah woah woah woah woah. Freeze. Spock is 'no more than six years old', right? His original language is Vulcan. He'd probably have learned Federation standard by this point from his mother, but it's likely he doesn't speak it on a daily basis/outside his home. The fact that he doesn't even acknowledge he's being spoken to in a language that isn't his primary is a bit weird.

Also, are we in Kirk's point of view still or in Spock's? It's a bit unclear because it's really blank of emotions suddenly from either of them, just actions. If it's from Kirk's, you should still make it obvious, like have Spock listening to the words that are being spoken in confusion for a moment before answering. 

“You're on a starship,” Kirk replied, still kneeling in front of the boy to speak on his level. “The Starship Enterprise.”

The Enterprise, which should be in italics because it's a title, is not called 'The Starship Enterprise'. It is a starship called the U.S.S. Enterprise. Therefore, capitalizing 'starship' is incorrect. 

Spock glanced around, his gaze briefly falling onto Scotty, and then back to Kirk.

“Why am I on a starship? Did...did the others send me away?”

Space between ellipses and 'did'. 

A small crease appeared between Kirk's eyebrows, and his hazel eyes flashed with emotion, as he studied the boy.

“I look like them...but I am different. They do not like me. They sent me away because I am a disgrace...” Spock rested his forehead on his knees now, feeling dejected, and wishing that he didn't. He was supposed to keep his feelings under control, but he was not very good at it. The other boys knew how to anger him, or make him cry, and they did it often in order to point out his weakness as a tainted Vulcan.

While cute and childish, it breaks character. Even a young Spock would not say things like this unless specifically asked. For example, if Kirk asked him, "What others? Why would they send you away?", this would be an acceptable answer. As it is, it's a bit awkward and random, giving up information like this without stimulus. 

Kirk's heart lurched in his chest, feeling for the small boy. His urge was to pull the child into a warm hug, to comfort, so he did. Spock stayed limp in his arms, his head cradled against Jim's shoulder. Kirk couldn't tell if this closeness might comfort the boy, or shame him. The small Spock gave no indication either way.

Usually I'd let it go because of stylistic tendencies, but there should be no comma there. It just reads a pause where there shouldn't be one. 

I know, I get it. So much emotion in the room! Who should we focus on? It's difficult, but attempt to keep it to one person. Jumping back and forth gets confusing and boring to the reader. Stick to one--I suggest Spock--for now, but later you can surmise the other's emotions. (For example, later you can switch to Kirk and say, "His stomach had lurched at Spock's words, etc etc etc")

“I'm taking him to Sickbay,” Kirk informed Scotty, as he stood up, positioning one arm beneath Spock's bottom in order to carry him better. Spock looped his arms loosely around Kirk's neck. Scotty nodded, and Kirk was glad that little Spock could not see the look of pity in Scotty's face.

'Sickbay' isn't capitalized, just like 'hospital' isn't.

Physically, this is not possible. Even at six Spock would be pretty tall. Kirk would have to put his arm under Spock's knees.

“A child, Jim,” Bones hurried over as soon as he saw the Captain enter carrying a small, dark haired boy. “Where did you find a child...”

You know what I'm going to say, hahah. 

Also, shouldn't there be a break of some sort here? 

Kirk placed the boy onto an exam table, and it was then that McCoy took in the familiar dark hair, intense eyes, lean features, and pointed ears of Spock. For moments all McCoy could do was stare at the boy. There was no doubt as to who this boy was, though the high sloping cheekbones were a bit less prominent with youth, his eyes larger, and ears larger, as if Spock had not yet grown into them.

Good physical description. I enjoyed it. 

“What the devil happened to you, Spock?” McCoy finally spoke, and the boy looked at him warily.

“How do you know me?” Spock asked, lacing his hands in his lap, and keeping an intense gaze on the doctor.

Yeah, good question. Why hasn't he asked Kirk it yet? Why did he blindly trust the human back there when it's logical he'd have trust issues due to being bullied? 

“Dammit, Jim. What have the two of you done now?” The doctor began poking, prodding, and exploring the tiny Vulcan. After much studying, McCoy came to a rather anticlimactic conclusion. “There's nothing wrong with him, Jim,” The doctor said, looking flustered. “Aside from the fact that the kid isn't as damn sassy as the adult version.”

“He's sad,” Kirk said, as he and Bones observed the boy from a corner of the Sickbay. Spock's thin, angular shoulders were slumped. His gaze was cast down to the floor, the corners of his mouth drawn into a frown.

Okay, yeah, mention that earlier. Mention they walked away from Spock earlier. Your writing is starting to sound a bit rushed and have less description. Don't forget that we can't see what you see. You have to show us. 

“Maybe his neck is just too skinny to hold up that big brain and those huge goblin ears.”

“Bones,” Kirk admonished. “Don't. He's only a child...”

“Right...I'm sorry, Jim. Natural impulse,” Bones explained, looking sheepish. “Why do you think he's sad, then?”

Ellipses space. 

“No reindeer games,” Jim said, thinking over what Spock had said in the transporter room. “He thought he'd been sent away because he wasn't like the other children. They're cruel to him.”

McCoy's face softened, in an uncharacteristic show of sympathy for the Vulcan he often bickered or quarreled with.

“Maybe we can cheer him up. I can't stand to see a kid look so serious, even if it is Spock,” Bones suggested. Jim called over to the boy.

“Spock, do you like ice cream?”

Spock lifted his head, and quirked one upswept brow.

“Ice cream?”

“Vulcans,” McCoy muttered.

Jim gave the doctor a look, a smirk and a twinkle of his expressive hazel eyes.

“Come on, Spock. The good doctor is going to take you to get an ice cream,” Jim patted McCoy heartily on the back, as Spock hopped down from the exam table, and walked towards them.

Again, stylistic, but the comma seems odd.

“I am?” The doctor asked, protest clear in his voice. Jim left Sickbay, needing some time to himself to think over their problem. Bones called after him; “I'm a doctor, not a nanny!”

Sickbay is, once again, not capitalized. 

Good on you for throwing a bone to the fans! 

-x-

Here's the break I've been looking for! Yay!

“You've never had it, have you?” McCoy asked as he watched the small Spock from across the table. Spock stared suspiciously at the ice cream. “It's food. It's good. You eat it. Even Vulcan's should have ice cream...it's ice cream.”

“Vulcan may be too hot for such a food,” Spock replied, and tried a bit of the treat with his spoon. The ice cream did have a very pleasing flavor, Spock had to admit, and before he could stop himself he was eating it so quickly that he was getting a very cold headache.

“Slow down, kid,” Bones said, laughing despite himself. “You'll freeze that big ol' brain of yours.”

“Freeze my brain?” Spock asked, his dark eyes widening. “You did not tell me the ice cream could--”

“Whoah, calm down,” McCoy reached over and gently placed a hand on Spock's shoulder. The boy had shot up from his chair, and looked as if he was going to bolt from the table. “It won't really freeze your brain. The headache you get when you eat something cold too fast...humans call it a brain-freeze.”

Ellipses space. 

Good job with this exchange. Very in character, very plausible. 

Spock pressed his lips together tightly, studying McCoy's face. The man seemed to be telling the truth, so Spock sat back down, though he did not resume eating the ice cream.

“If it does not freeze ones brain...then why say so? Illogical.”

You're looking for the possessive, not the plural. One's, not ones. 

Ellipses space!

“It's just a thing humans do. An idiom.”

“An idiot?”

“Idiom,” McCoy corrected snappishly.

There was a hint of a smirk curling Spock's lips. He and the doctor stared at one another, as if waging some sort of silent battle. McCoy finally looked away, realizing it was stupid to be engaging like this with a child—he was so used to the way he and adult Spock interacted. It was hard to remember that though this was Spock, this was also a child.

Spock finished the rest of his ice cream quietly, and McCoy didn't tell the boy that he had a smear of chocolate on his chin. He may not ever admit it aloud, but McCoy found the chocolate smear on the tiny Spock to be kind of...cute. McCoy rolled his eyes for thinking so.

You know. 

Jim returned later to find Spock sitting crossed legged upon an exam table, while nurse Chapel sat on the edge of the table, and the two of them were playing a game of chess.

This is her title, like 'Mr. Spock' or 'Captain Kirk'. It needs capitalization. 

This sounded very odd and rushed. Besides, it's never fun to make the entire paragraph one sentence. I suggest you change the last part into a separate sentence. 

You're once again starting to sound rushed in your writing. Calm down. Relax. Get back into the flow of what we're doing. Focus on whatever perspective you're currently in. 

“You're so smart, Spock,” the nurse gushed, as the child beat her at another round of chess. “Even as a child, your intellect is really something.”

Spock had been resting his chin in his hands, staring down at the chessboard in contemplation of his next move. At the nurses words he looked up at her, confused.

The words are hers. Nurse's, not nurses. 

“What do you mean...even as a child?”

Take a guess. 

“Oh, she means nothing,” Jim said quickly, coming up beside nurse chapel and squeezing her shoulders lightly. “The nurse was just going to check on...some plasma, weren't you, nurse Chapel.”

Yep.

Capitalization.

That was a question, not a statement. Substitute ? for .   

For a moment the nurse looked at the Captain in confusion, and then she caught on.

Lower case.

“Oh, of course,” She scurried away to 'look at the plasma' which left Jim and Spock to themselves.

Period, not comma. Only use a comma when you're saying how 'someone said', not when another action goes off the first.

Oh, that sounded rushed and odd. I suggest changing it to, 'leaving Jim and Spock to themselves'. 

Very in character for Christine. I'm still missing your description, though.

“She is not very good at chess,” Spock commented.

Jim smiled a sad sort of smile at the boy. The sense of dejavu as very odd, seeing the child Spock sit there with the same features, the same look, as the adult version did, on the other side of a chessboard just as Jim saw the adult Spock so often. Jim reached out and smoothed a hand affectionately over the boy's dark hair. The seriousness in the child's face eased a bit.

Technically, it's 'déjà vu', but you do not have to do the accents. You do, however, have to put a space between 'deja' and 'vu'. 

“No, she isn't,” Jim said, conspiratorily. “Come on, Spock. I'll show you where you're going to stay.” Jim offered his hand, and after a moments study of the open palm, Spock placed his hand into it. Jim was struck hard by how small the hand was. It felt cool to the touch, and it seemed almost fragile, as Jim curled his fingers around it protectively. The Captain's own hand engulfed Spock's.

You misspelled conspiratorially. 

Moment's, not moments. 

No capitalization for the captain. 

It's hard to avoid, but you've used 'hand' four times in this paragraph, and it starts to sound repetitive 

Wait. They're showing Spock his room? Shouldn't they be looking for the old Spock, thinking that perhaps they switched universes or had a time lapse? Shouldn't they be contacting Vulcan, his parents? Why are they putting him to bed? It struck me as confusing and slightly unrealistic. 

Spock hopped down from the exam table, and followed the Captain through the ship until they reached the door to a certain cabin. The door slid open, and Jim showed the boy inside.

Right. Captain is, you know, lower cased. 

“You can sleep here. My room is just next door, if you need anything at all, wake me.”

Spock glanced around the room. He knew the upset that was growing inside of him was illogical, but he was having trouble holding it back. The room just seemed so unfamiliar. It wasn't his. It wasn't his home. He tried to comfort himself with the foolish idea that perhaps this was only a dream, and if he laid down to sleep, he would wake up and find himself in his own bed, on his own planet. But the Captain's hand was too real and warm to be a dream. That was both comforting, and further disconcerting. Spock found that he didn't really want the man, the Captain, to let go of his hand. He looked down at his feet, his cheeks warming a darker green, with embarrassment. His stomach clenched tightly as he thought of the children who taunted him for his human weakness. Spock drew himself up as much as he could, and forced himself to yank his hand free from the Captain's warm grasp.

You jumped back to Spock's perspective. Confusing, slightly, but I liked the description that returned with it!

Guessing it by now, I hope, haha.

The comma is stylistic, I know, but it really puts a hesitation where it should read slowly. It honestly just doesn't sound correctly. It's a suggested change, but not necessary. 

See bullet one.

See bullet two. 

See bullet one. 

“I do not need anyone,” Spock said petulantly, and went to his bed and climbed in, facing the wall so the Captain could not see his face as the stoic expression collapsed into a trembling frown, and his eyes began to fill with tears.

Well great, just break my heart, thanks.

Lower case, as we know. 

“Very well,” Kirk said, and he dimmed the lights. “Goodnight, Spock.

   Analysis of Part 1

It is clear very early on that you are a fantastic writer. But, as with everything, there is always room for improvements. 

Your description in the beginning and at random moments was fantastic, and it's natural that it would begin to slow down when the dialogue starts, but you dialed it down so much that it began to get boring and bland. You're a good writer. Use your skill! 

As mentioned multiple times, I'd enjoy for you to stick to one character for the majority. You're good at switching, but you do it so frequently it gets confusing and bewildering. I suggest sticking to Spock for the majority of the story, though the moments with McCoy was also nice.

Alright! Part one down, on to two!

[creativecritic-blog]

annnd the other one. this is a harry potter xover with various anime series. ^^; i chose Nezumi from no. 6

The candles hung from the ceiling, burning and dimly lit. Students meandered to and fro, huddling around their tables and eventually settling down. The low hum of talking couldn't match his loud thoughts. Nezumi didn't particularly know any of these people closely, despite this being his sixth year. He never was fond of making too many friends. People in this school work at a million miles per hour, so he wouldn't see anyone ever after school lets out. Plus, he isn't that heart warming of a person, so making even one friend was difficult. He made his way to the Slytherin table and his eyes drift over to Jack, his tip toes brushing the wood floors. Nezumi shrugged. He'd deserved it. Teasing needlessly was Jack's game. Not that it wasn't entertaining gossip to eavesdrop on, but Nezumi would never do something stupid like that. Butch was strong and his temper flared easily.

Good opener. Good description. Just good good good.

You started in past tense--stick with it. 'Worked'. 

'Ever after'? Did you mean 'even after'? If not, it just sounds a bit awkward.

Wasn't instead of isn't. 

Drifted instead of drift. Unless you want to switch to present tense?

What exactly did he deserve? I don't really see the problem here. 

Nezumi sighed and took a seat, grabbing a moist chicken breast from the center and a scoop of potatoes...maybe some soup? He grabbed for the small belgian chocolate brownies instead. If there was one thing he missed over the summers, it was these little deserts. Nezumi had an enormous sweet tooth--and thank god he usually burned off the calories playing Quidditch. He wasn't the best beater but he did the job. His made up for his power with aim. He never missed.

I see what you were trying to do here. Internal monologues are always fun. But it ended up confusing the reader for a while--did he grab the soup or was he just thinking about it? Put it in italics so that it's distinguishable as a thought. Also, put a space between 'maybe' after your ellipses. 

I suggest you don't pluralize summer. It makes it sound a bit stiff and awkward.

'God' is, most commonly, capitalized. Even if you're not religious, it's a proper noun. This is more of a stylistic thing than an actually concrete grammatical rule, however, so if I were grading this as a paper I'd let it slide.

His mind wandered to the boy he was assigned to sit next to in his Herbology course yesterday, and Muggle Studies today. His name was Shion Misora; ivory locks and pale skin--he reminded Nezumi of a statue, save the lone stripe of scar tissue that wrapped his body. Or at least he assumed it went around his body. The stripe dipped past his shirt collar. The boy was quiet, but when asked a question, he was able to explain its answer elaborately and without fault. Sometimes students really are the epitome of their house. The blue tie brought out his eyes... 

I suggest 'wrapped across' his body, because the phrasing of it currently sounds very awkward.

You're looking for 'passed'. 'Past' is exclusive as a time. Like the future and the past.

Really were the epitome of their house. Remember what I said--past tense can be talking about something that happened three seconds ago or three hundred years.

 Nezumi soon became bored with the table, the only chatter being about the homecoming dance. He shoveled in his last bite of potatoes and nicked another little chocolate before heading off to the library. The solitude was welcoming and usually devoid of idiots.

Gold star for that one. It was good and funny and showed off a lot of his character. 

     Overall

Remember in kindergarten when you had to bring in something for show and tell? I'm going to change the wording up a bit. Show, not tell. This is a very important writing device that is something you should completely devote your life to. 

Telling is easy. "I don't like the company of others." That's simple. Comes across quickly. 

Showing is difficult. "I sit down far away from the others that surround me, pulling into myself and ignoring glances and words that passerbys throw towards me. Communicating with the students around me always leaves me a bit confused and afraid-feeling. I prefer solitude to the unerringly personal and awkward questions my contemporaries come up with." And what does that portray? That shows us that the person doesn't like the company of others without flat-out saying it. It gives the story more realism and more description. 

I urge you to embrace in showing and not telling. It will help your writing a great deal and make your stories sound real and unlacking. 

Good job, nevertheless. Keep calm and write on!

[creativecritic-blog]

thought i'd have someone look over my grammar. ;w; i got one more coming

All edits written in the middle of the story will be in block quotes. In the middle, if there is anything that needs my personal attention, I will bold it so it stands out from the rest and then talk about it in the block quote. (first bolded word will be addressed in the first bullet, second in the second, etc)

Let's get started!

They were being escorted by two fleet officers to their destination.

This is your opening sentence. This is the sentence that's supposed to pull us into your story. (Remember Tale of Two Cities--"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"?) While it might be a stylistic thing of yours, as the opener to your entire story it's pretty... lacking. They - who? Destination - Where? Remember that we are literally being introduced to your world here with no previous set-up. You can keep it sparse by focusing on other things, like talking about what the area around them looks like, but as a beginning that's supposed to hook us into the story, it's kind of dull.

A prison. At least that's how Spock envisioned it. Some had offered up the term 'rehabilitation', but this was the ultimate punishment for a Vulcan. A vulcan being emotionally compromised. Above all things, with his captain. He could not lie to the judge, and the machine that confirms statements to be true or false confirmed his confession with 100% accuracy. He could still feel his ears burning. When Kirk offered his testimony, Spock was vomiting in his private quarters and wasn't able to make it. The judge didn't want to start the court case without him, but the crew of the Enterprise insisted they continue.

Remember to be consistent. 'Vulcan' is stated as being grammatically capitalized (even though that is kind of illogical, when you think about it), so make sure to capitalize Vulcan every time you state it.

I don't believe 'Above all things' is the term you were looking for. Perhaps 'And even worse' or 'To make matters worse, it was'. 

Again, remember your consistency. You started this short story in past tense, so keep it there. Past tense, remember, can mean anything from something that happened three seconds ago to something that happened three hundred years ago. The machine doesn't 'confirm' his statements, it 'confirmed'. The anonymity of past tense means that his court case could have already happened.

Enterprise is written in italics, like the title of a book. 

At this point of the story, we know a bit more, but not a lot. You have to remember to substitute lack of information in one area with more information in another. Since we don't know what's going on yet, how about a bit of our beautiful senses? What does Spock feel like? How does the guilt of being emotional compromised make his stomach turn? 

Scotty and Uhura had tried to offer some comfort before they left seeing as they didn't know when the two of them would be back. Uhura hugged him despite their rough relationship just a couple months before. The scent of coconut oil from her hair was still on his nose as they boarded the ship. Spock had averted every gaze Kirk has given him whether it was his wandering eyes or an intentional glare. He didn't want to face his captain, it was embarrassing. Having an emotional attachment to such a brash, illogical human. At least, that is what his father would say. Sarek warned him before offering himself up to Kirk's command as his first officer, that the man was dangerous and had a background of success--but backed by dumb luck. This didn't deter Spock. His fascination with Kirk dampened all the negativity--he was interested by his intellect. He was also frustrated by the amount of intelligence he possessed, and rather than act on logic in desperate situations, he would act on his gut.

Good. I liked that statement. It gave me something.

Kirk had given him, is what I think you're looking for.

Two complete thoughts there, so you either need -- or ; 

This isn't technically a complete thought. I'd let it slide normally because of stylistic tendencies, but honestly, it sounds a bit weird. Probably because the statement before had two complete thoughts in it? It just didn't read as powerfully as it was obviously intended. 

I believe you're looking for Sarek had warned him, as most of this is looking backwards. 

Kirk and Spock are both guys, which is awesome. It also sucks when you get slightly pronoun happy. As a Star Trek fan, I could follow who you were talking about, but other readers might not. It was pretty confusing, so just watch out.

This paragraph was much better. It gave us more information and more senses. It also began to stray away from the main point of the story which, at this point, we still don't know, so be careful. 

It was also around this point that I got confused over whether or not this was TOS or reboot. You couldn't really address that anywhere, but now I'm curious, haha. 

But, he was the captain. Despite his frustrations with Kirk, he developed a fondness for the captain. He enjoyed having someone that could match him at chess, someone who Spock could argue with, without beating them immediately.

Do you mean 'without him beating them immediately'? I'm a bit lost. 

Spock maintained his composure, looking forward at the wall of the ship. It was just a shuttlecraft, so everyone was in close proximity. Spock closed his eyes and tried to focus on the task ahead. I have to flush this attraction and help the captain regain control of the Enterprise. Even with his eyes closed, flashes of different images appeared--a five a clock shadow, the difference between when his lips were chapped and when they weren't, James' eyebrows when they are furrowed. His eyes burst open and he started going over random facts to distract himself. 

Who's everyone? Who's there? We still don't know.

Like a double negative makes a positive, a double italics makes a normal. Basically, Enterprise wouldn't be in italics. 

Are you looking for 'five o'clock'?

Good. Good senses, good something to focus on. If I were you, I'd look up some meditative strategies, because we know Spock meditates. 

This does bring up a good point, because here's where some outside knowledge would have been helpful. I thought he was walking to some facility until now, and I've just found out he's riding. It would have been nice to know earlier, so I could get a picture in my head.

Theories of relativity, the space-time continuum, trans-warp beaming equations; he had busied himself until they were in orbit around the planet. It looked like Earth, but bluer. The atmosphere was clearer, and a beam from the system's sun broke over the edge of the planet.

I believe he's no longer in flash-back mode, so you can say 'he busied himself'. Without the 'had'

Good description. But what planet is it? Don't give us more questions when you haven't answered the first few. 

  Overall

I'm presuming this is not the end of the story, but more of a first chapter or a beginning. If this is the end, you have a good deal of loose ends to tie up to satisfy your readers.

Going off the presumption that this will be continued (whether one day in writing or just mentally in your head), I will say that so far, it's not bad, but you leave the reader questioning a lot. Where are we? What's happening? It's great to give the reader questions, but don't forget to substitute--for everything you don't tell them, tell them something. I tend to focus on senses. For every plot point I don't explain, I give them a lot of sensory information. It kind of distracts away from their confusion and gives them more that they do understand to keep them interested. 

Remember that you need to hook a reader in. If I get bored of reading something, I'll flip away quickly. Giving us more sensory information will give us more reason to stay. You're not a bad writer, but lack of information bores anyone quickly.

Good job, however! Keep calm and write on! 

[creativecritic-blog]

The Editor is Open for Submissions!

I'm a writer who has decided that we don't have enough blogs on Tumblr that merely edit anything that is sent to them, so I decided to begin a blog completely dedicated to reading other people's work.

All info can be found here. 

So please, submit to me anything--from roleplays, to short stories, to chapters of your book, I'll read and edit it all!