hey, i need some help. im 14 and this is my first novel. so far i have done 35 pages of it, but im not sure how it sounds from someone elses oppinion. if you could give me your thoughts, it would be much appreciated. this is the first chapter, it looks long, but it really isnt that bad. (please excuse my spelling in it, i havent got around to proof reading.) thanks again.
I don’t know what I expected out of life. Growing up in the country, i got used to the simple life, knowing that my life could be worse and most likely wouldn’t get better. Since my mother died when i was ten, five years ago after getting thrown of her horse, I lived only with my dad. Together we ran herds of cows and sheep over our land. It was the simple life, the quiet, serene life, the life for me. Every morning my dad and I woke up at six thirty sharp to move the herds of cattle, grow crops and did repairs on our old farmyard, not being able to go to bed until late. Not the life for a kid, I know, but all that mattered to me was I was with my dad and together we lived away from the troubles and dangers of the world. Until I met Taylor, and then everything, my life, my future and my way of thinking changed forever.
“Kate? Honey?”My dads voice rang out from outside into the cottage. I lay down the dishes I was washing, brushed my hands on my apron and walked to the back door. Peering through the gaps, i could see dad talking to someone outside. I didn’t know who it was, but he sure looked important. My guess was that he would be in his late fifties, early sixties. His age wasn’t that difficult to guess, considering his thin grey hair and his badly wrinkled face. But it wasn’t the face that necessarily caught my eye, but what he wore. Naturally in the country, you wore jeans, a shirt and a wide brim hat to avoid sunburn, but there that man was standing in an expensive designer suit. Cuffs, spotless shirt and coat and even his shoes had no dust on them, which was highly unusual considering the only roads and paths around here were gravel and dirt. Not sure what to expect, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Dust flew into the air behind me as I made my way from the house to where my dad and Mr Mystery stood at the end of the drive. When I reached them, they were deep in conversation. Behind them, a big, black land Cruiser stood idle. Who ever this man was, he meant business. Big, expensive business.
“Ah Kate,” my dad exclaimed” wrapping his arms around my shoulders, “meet Mr Andrews.
“Hello Miss White.”Mr Andrews said. “Hey,” I greeted softly. Although I knew it was impolite not to look at someone when they were talking to you, I couldn’t force my eyes to look into his piercing blue eyes.
“Mr Andrews is here for a business proposition.” My dad exclaimed. Although a business proposition was nothing really to be proud of, my father beamed like he was told he just won the lottery.
“Yes?” I asked curious.
My dad looked at Mr Andrews, expecting him to answer.
“Well little lady, Kate isn’t?” I nodded. “ I’m not sure how much you and your dad know, but the stock market is expanding, and the only way to keep ahead is to stay rich.”
“Stock market?” i turned to ask dad, confused by the odd term.
“ Basically the flow of money in the economy.” Although he answered, he also sounded confused by the odd term. Big corporate words didn’t go down too smoothly this far away from major cities.
“yes,” mr Andrews continued, “ and me and my company think that there is an awful lot of money to be made from your property.” He turned and faced towards our hills and stretched out his arms, as if he was embracing the quiet countryside. “its size, quantity and quality of the soil and conditions are perfect for growing our produce.” He lowered his arms and sighed.
“If you don’t mind my asking sir, but what exactly do you grow?” curiosity got the best of me.
“”Potatoes.” he replied looking at me, a proud beam on his wrinkled face.
“Potatoes?” money in potatoes? It sounded like as realistic as pigs flying.
“Yes, my company grows the best potatoes in the country then we turn them into the countries best chips: Crispy Andrews. Have you heard of them?”
I shook my head. He looked surprised, very surprised.
“Here, try some.” And he pulled a small packet out of one of his expensive pockets. The packaging looked familiar, but I definitely hadn’t eaten them before. I reached out and grabbed the pack. “Roasted Tomato and Basil Flavour”. Unusual. I needed both my hands to open the pack, and i squirmed out of dads half embrace. The smell reached me the second I opened the pack. Salt, tomato, basil, herbs and the faint hint of oil overwhelmed my senses. I pulled out a chip, looked at dads’ and Mr Andrews expecting faces and bit down. The chip was like nothing i ever tasted. No king had ever eated a chip like this. I was unlike anything else the world had ever seen, and by that i mean it was disgusting. As i forced myself t
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