datnat32
New member
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2017
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Vietnamese
- Home Country
- Vietnam
- Current Location
- United States
This isn't homework. I write for fun everyday to improve my English because I hope if I get good enough I'll be able to make a living out of writing. I finish chapter 1 and 2 and post it on a website but so far no comments on the chapters. I'm in dire need for readership and constructive critism, so if you are kind enough please leave thoughts in this thread. What do you think about it and what needs to be fixed? Thanks for reading!
Chapter 1.
This year, the bird migration is uncharacteristic compared to last year. The birds return in a huge number nothing like I've ever seen before. No news commentators have been able to logically dissect the reason for this year's migration. Although some hypotheses are making me laugh due to how insane they sound. Some people have been saying it's a bad sign, however I'm not superstitious and I don't believe in signs and I have positive outlook on the future.
I pull up and neatly park my car in the parking lot. The sign reads: "Reserved for Harvard professors." I exit the car and walk in as the bell rings.
I walk down the hall way holding a suitcase with my left hand and trying to find my new room. I look left and right for the door with the sign that has my name on it. As I continue to search for my classroom, the hall begins to clear up as students have entered their class.
"Great," I mutter "I'm late on the first day of class" I take a look at my watch to confirm my worry. The mechanical watch is striking eight thirty and I've run out of time.
I start looking for somebody that can help me but everyone seem to be paying attention to their own business. He room filled up with chatter now
"You look lost, sir" suddenly a soft voice enunciates "Are you looking for your class room?" I turn around and find myself staring at an appealingly looking lady who I assume to be a student due to the way she dresses. She's a medium girl with a big pair of glasses. Her hair stands out the most; it is long and big enough to cover her whole ears and renders her face tiny, although it looks very smooth and silky.
"Yes, how do you kno-- that's not important. Can you point me to room 320," I insist.
"Sure, but are you professor Edward, sir?"
"I am," I say.
"Great. My name is Jodie. I really love your discovery on the unsolved Tandem mystery. I've heard of your upcoming press conference where you'll publish the whole answer. I kno--" she has given out her right hand offering a handshake
"Sorry, I don't mean to interupt your enthusiasm but I'm really late for my class. Can you show me the way please," I stop her mid-sentence.
"Certainly, sir. It's this way."
There's something subtly unnatural in her tone, her speech in general, that irks me although she sounds really sweet.
I proceed to follow her. On our little journey to the classroom we walk past a group of students that don't seem to care about the importance of punctuality. They leisurely walk while chatting loudly, so loud that their conversations echo throughout the hallway.
"Is that the new pair of gloves? They seem like a great fit on you, " one of the students says while laughing so hard her lungs almost poke out.
I give no attention to that because I'm late and that's not professional for a professor to be tardy. I walk faster to catch up with Jodie. She seems to almost forget she's walking with me. She's leading me through a maze of hallway when she stops at a rusty door and shows her hand to the door and if she is welcoming me to my own classroom.
The sign on the door reads: "Professor Edward Norton" and there is a sticker of a bird on it. But I don't recognize this room as well as the map. It's weird. It must have been changed. I put it aside as I'm late. I thank you Jodie. She returns my hospitality with a warm smile.
"I'm looking forward to your interview, sir. "
I smile back as I open the door.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day went well. I throw myself on the bed with shirt unbuttoned and socks on the floor looking up at the ceiling. But it was tiring. I never knew I couldn't handle 300 students. I was doing two college degrees at a time and a part time job while doing research and other volunteer work but nothing is as exhausting as the first day teaching at Harvard.
I stand up and go into the bathroom. The steam fills up the room obscuring the mirror. It's great to be enjoying a hot tub in the late winter. I dangle my arm outside of the wall of the tub while holding the tv remote controller. I decide to turn the tv on which is hanging on the wall. The History channel is broadcasting a documentation on central intelligence. The female narrator announces gently.
The CIA have been known to use secret techniques to get their messages across such as invisible ink on paper, secret language, symbolism, special sound effects, and many more. They're developing tools to convey the concealed information that even the messengers have no idea what it is about. The secrecy is often used to protect the fate of nation, in this case the well-being of our beloved country the USA.
"Interesting," I thought out loud.
Then I remember the big hair girl and how she says something about she was looking forward to my interview.
Oh that's right. I sigh as recall about three interviews leading up to the press conference. All occur tomorrow. I'm feeling a little stressed out about everything thing happens all at once. I tell myself that I can handle it and pat myself on the arm.
I submerge myself into the hot water and let my mind wander with thoughts. No sound. No image.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is my first attempt at writing a book and I'm glad I was able to bring myself to finish the first chapter
English isn't my first language so please don't be so hard on me, but please do point out errors.
I'm still trying to finish my first book and it's gonna be a complex book. I hope I can convey the whole concept to my readers.
Chapter 1.
This year, the bird migration is uncharacteristic compared to last year. The birds return in a huge number nothing like I've ever seen before. No news commentators have been able to logically dissect the reason for this year's migration. Although some hypotheses are making me laugh due to how insane they sound. Some people have been saying it's a bad sign, however I'm not superstitious and I don't believe in signs and I have positive outlook on the future.
I pull up and neatly park my car in the parking lot. The sign reads: "Reserved for Harvard professors." I exit the car and walk in as the bell rings.
I walk down the hall way holding a suitcase with my left hand and trying to find my new room. I look left and right for the door with the sign that has my name on it. As I continue to search for my classroom, the hall begins to clear up as students have entered their class.
"Great," I mutter "I'm late on the first day of class" I take a look at my watch to confirm my worry. The mechanical watch is striking eight thirty and I've run out of time.
I start looking for somebody that can help me but everyone seem to be paying attention to their own business. He room filled up with chatter now
"You look lost, sir" suddenly a soft voice enunciates "Are you looking for your class room?" I turn around and find myself staring at an appealingly looking lady who I assume to be a student due to the way she dresses. She's a medium girl with a big pair of glasses. Her hair stands out the most; it is long and big enough to cover her whole ears and renders her face tiny, although it looks very smooth and silky.
"Yes, how do you kno-- that's not important. Can you point me to room 320," I insist.
"Sure, but are you professor Edward, sir?"
"I am," I say.
"Great. My name is Jodie. I really love your discovery on the unsolved Tandem mystery. I've heard of your upcoming press conference where you'll publish the whole answer. I kno--" she has given out her right hand offering a handshake
"Sorry, I don't mean to interupt your enthusiasm but I'm really late for my class. Can you show me the way please," I stop her mid-sentence.
"Certainly, sir. It's this way."
There's something subtly unnatural in her tone, her speech in general, that irks me although she sounds really sweet.
I proceed to follow her. On our little journey to the classroom we walk past a group of students that don't seem to care about the importance of punctuality. They leisurely walk while chatting loudly, so loud that their conversations echo throughout the hallway.
"Is that the new pair of gloves? They seem like a great fit on you, " one of the students says while laughing so hard her lungs almost poke out.
I give no attention to that because I'm late and that's not professional for a professor to be tardy. I walk faster to catch up with Jodie. She seems to almost forget she's walking with me. She's leading me through a maze of hallway when she stops at a rusty door and shows her hand to the door and if she is welcoming me to my own classroom.
The sign on the door reads: "Professor Edward Norton" and there is a sticker of a bird on it. But I don't recognize this room as well as the map. It's weird. It must have been changed. I put it aside as I'm late. I thank you Jodie. She returns my hospitality with a warm smile.
"I'm looking forward to your interview, sir. "
I smile back as I open the door.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day went well. I throw myself on the bed with shirt unbuttoned and socks on the floor looking up at the ceiling. But it was tiring. I never knew I couldn't handle 300 students. I was doing two college degrees at a time and a part time job while doing research and other volunteer work but nothing is as exhausting as the first day teaching at Harvard.
I stand up and go into the bathroom. The steam fills up the room obscuring the mirror. It's great to be enjoying a hot tub in the late winter. I dangle my arm outside of the wall of the tub while holding the tv remote controller. I decide to turn the tv on which is hanging on the wall. The History channel is broadcasting a documentation on central intelligence. The female narrator announces gently.
The CIA have been known to use secret techniques to get their messages across such as invisible ink on paper, secret language, symbolism, special sound effects, and many more. They're developing tools to convey the concealed information that even the messengers have no idea what it is about. The secrecy is often used to protect the fate of nation, in this case the well-being of our beloved country the USA.
"Interesting," I thought out loud.
Then I remember the big hair girl and how she says something about she was looking forward to my interview.
Oh that's right. I sigh as recall about three interviews leading up to the press conference. All occur tomorrow. I'm feeling a little stressed out about everything thing happens all at once. I tell myself that I can handle it and pat myself on the arm.
I submerge myself into the hot water and let my mind wander with thoughts. No sound. No image.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is my first attempt at writing a book and I'm glad I was able to bring myself to finish the first chapter
English isn't my first language so please don't be so hard on me, but please do point out errors.
I'm still trying to finish my first book and it's gonna be a complex book. I hope I can convey the whole concept to my readers.
