Neck-Liposuction.com

Firstly, this is very difficult to read without it being edited. Therefore, I’ll go through and proofread this for you, and then tell you what I think about the extract. Pay close attention to any corrections I make. I’ll put a line between each paragraph since Y!A won’t allow indents, but if this was in a MS Word document you’d add indents. If you’re unsure of why I’ve changed anything, feel free to email me to ask why.

Corrected version:

A young woman’s head, neck lolling backward in a limp, motionless pose. Her matted chestnut hair clings to her face, her skin glimmers, almost translucent. Her face; the curve of her blue lips, the slight sparkle of green eyeliner.

I recognise this face.

A pile of autumn leaves allows only the head and one thin, gnarled arm to show through. The arm is so twisted it appears to entwine with the thick roots surrounding it. The silence around me becomes thick and heavy. I feel myself staring, frozen in a moment of fear, her cold empty eyes staring up at me. A feeling of despair overcomes me and the silence, that cold lonely silence, is finally broken by an ear-piercing scream.

Covering my ears, I find myself kneeling on the cold damp floor. It only takes me a moment to realise I am the one screaming, that painful sound is ringing from my mouth. I cannot stop it.

*

“Excuse me, miss?”

I glance up to see warm, friendly eyes looking back at me. The officer gently touches my shoulder.

“Miss, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I reply, although the voice I hear sounds meek and trembles. Clutching a warm mug, with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I cast my eyes on the scene around me. Police officers in bright Hi-Vis jackets surround me. They seem to be moving so fast I can barely keep my gaze upon them. Bright lights radiating from police cars blink, piercing through the misty haze I feel.

As the haze fades I realise I am perched on the edge of an ambulance back door. I don’t know why I am here but the cold sensation of the steel lined doorway on my bare legs tells me I’m not dreaming.

Across the crowd, I see a familiar face – my mother. She runs at me, arms outstretched. Before I have a chance to lift my arms, I feel hers wrap around me, her warm hands clutching at my cold skin. She’s crying.

“Olivia! Olivia, are you okay? Oh, my poor girl,” she sobs as she clutches me ever tighter.

“Mum, please, what’s going on?” The sound of my voice seems so foreign to me.

She does not reply, only gazes at me with worried eyes. A young officer approaches and my mum lets go of me. I flop, realising I was not even holding my own body weight. Mum moves away from me and talks to the officer in a hushed voice. He seems to be comforting her, yet his kind grey eyes focus on me all the time.

I pull the blanket around my shoulders across my body. Looking down, I realise I have nothing but a small black t-shirt and one red stiletto shoe covering my modesty. I remember putting on my shoes the night before, parading in front of the mirror. They were new, bought especially for my best friend, Charlotte’s, birthday party.

Before my memory can clear anymore, my mother returns and hustles me into the back of our silver Mondeo Estate. The drive home is quiet, with only my mother’s occasional worried glance and sigh breaking the silence. As we get to the front door, the familiar surroundings make me feel calmer and safe. My mother walks me into the house with a reassuring arm around me.

“What’s going on, mum?” I ask her.

“You’re in shock, darling. You saw something this morning.”

I rack my brain for some sort of recognition; what could I have seen to cause so much mess? The more I try to free my memory, the more lost I feel.
—-
Okay, now that that’s done, I’ll go onto what I thought of the extract.

Despite the lack of editing, I thought this was a really interesting opening to the book. That’s quite an achievement; hooking a grammar-freak when the work hasn’t been proofread. I think that really goes to show how compelling your writing style is. The idea for the story sounds incredibly interesting too and, even though this isn’t my preferred genre, I’d be willing to pay to buy the book if it ever was published.

You could do with a little more description of Olivia’s surroundings when she comes to her senses and is sat at the back of the ambulance. Clarify where they are — are they still in the woods or has Olivia been moved? If they’re still in the woods, is her friend’s body still there or has it been moved yet? How did the ambulance get there? Are they close to a settlement (e.g. a town) or a road so it was easy for the ambulance and her mum’s car to get there? If Olivia has been moved away from the woods, then where is she now? Subtle, well-placed description is key here.

Well, I hope this has helped you! Good luck with your writing

Sounds good to me, and if you continued it well ,it should turn into a good mystery