Rate my Vampire Story... Does it have what it takes to be published?

Question

Is it too much like twilight??



“NO! No please,” I pleaded with the demon. “Don’t hurt him! Take me! Take me instead!” I looked around the forest-like environment, looking for someone to save us.
I didn’t know who I was sacrificing myself for. All I knew was that he meant the world to me, and I couldn’t live without him. I needed to save him.
The demon with the blazing green eyes and pale white skin gave me a look of sympathy, but I knew better. The look wasn’t sincere. I had learned my lesson. From my past experiences, I never was going to trust him again. Not ever.
I began to plead again, in a stronger more demanding tone than before. The harsh and raspy voice cut me off.
“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.” He shook his head in disappointment. “When are you going to learn? You can’t do anything. You aren’t worthy to save him. You aren’t capable of anything.” He chuckled darkly.
“I’m not going to listen to you.” My breathing pattern was shaky, I felt as if I was going to pass out. “I am never trusting you again!”
I felt like crying. How stupid could I have been? Putting all my trust into a stranger. Didn’t I know any better?

“No,” I told myself. “Stop! Stop listening to him! You aren’t stupid. You aren’t!”
I heard the demon whispering something towards the poor, weak 15 year old boy. I couldn’t make out any of the words of which he was saying, except for the last three.
Prepare to die.
“NO,” I shrieked, out of control, “NO, SOMEBODY HELP! HELP HIM!”
I tried to run towards the demon, ready to strangle him. But, before I could take more than two steps, the demon snapped his fingers, and in less than a second, two thick strong weeds shot across the ground and towards my feet. The plants briskly grabbed on to one foot each, disabling me to move. Then, I lost it. My knees violently hit the ground and I pounded the dirty forest floor. “Isn’t anyone going to do anything?” I started to sob uncontrollably. “HELP!”

The demon didn’t bother to acknowledge the fact that I was acting like a psychopathic maniac. He just looked towards the boy, and chuckled a soft, carefree laugh. Lucky him. He had nothing to fear. No one he knew and loved was about to get murdered at this very moment.
“Shut up.” I whispered only to myself, for I didn’t have enough energy to scream anymore. The screaming from before had worn me out.
The demon pulled out a sliver dagger. The sparkling green emerald’s on the dagger hurt my eyes, for they shone so brightly. The demon brought the dagger closer to the boy’s heart. Closer. And closer.
I trembled as I watched the boy’s blue eyes go from pleading to dull and lifeless.
The demon turned towards me and I refused to look into his intimidating green eyes. I couldn’t look into them; they took up my energy, for some reason, when I did. And right now I had no energy whatsoever.

The demon then whispered the same three dreadful words of which he whispered to the boy.
Prepare to die.
I closed my eyes waiting for my death.
“Sophie?” a lone voice rose from the distance, unusually loud.
The warm voice suddenly threw me out of the horrible, horrible scene and into my safe, familiar bedroom. I looked up and saw my mom smiling at me and lightly shaking my shoulder, waiting for me to get up.
It was just a dream, just a dream. I should have known too. After all, I had been having these terrifying nightmares ever since I moved to Lonokos.
Lonokos was a small town in the northern part of Maine. It was so small that it was impossible to find it on map. The town had a population only of 404. Moving from the sunny, crowded and friendly suburbs of Florida, to the small, cloudy, deserted forests of Maine was a definite change for me.

But other than the fact that Lonokos was deserted, small, and dreary, it was also strange. Yes, defiantly strange. The day I moved here, which was about a week ago, I was looking through a pamphlet. There, it informed me that out of the 404 people there, 380 of them were between the ages of 15-17, and that there wasn’t anyone under the age of 15. That meant only 24 people were adults. Call me crazy, but I highly doubted that 24 adults alone could produce a whopping 380 kids.
But there was something else that was strange about Lonokos, too. It was the way the people acted. Everyone seemed to keep to themselves and their families. Out of the whole week that I lived here, nobody came and welcomed my family to the neighborhood. Nobody even looked our way. The only assumption I could make was that they were somehow locked into their houses and couldn’t get out, for throughout the lonesome and boring week of staring out the window, I didn’t see one person walk past my house or along the st

straight, gravel road. Not one. It was so quiet that the silence hurt my ears, as strange as that sounded. It was like the only people that lived here were my family and I.
But of course, I could have read the pamphlet wrong. Or maybe, my eyes happened to not notice a couple people walking down the street. Possibly, I was enhancing the townspeople’s strange qualities and making them seem stranger than they were because I wanted to hate Lonokos. I mean, I wasn’t exactly happy that I had to move here because my dad got a stupid job transfer. So, maybe I was imagining it. Yeah. That was it. After all, I was known for my wild imagination.
“Uh, Sophie?” my mom said, interrupting my thoughts, “Its time to get up. It’s your first day of school.” On the words ‘first day of school’ she said it in a singsong voice and smiled. I, on the other hand, grimaced as I felt my stomach jump.
My first day of school. The dreadful day I had been trying to forget. But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I

had tried.
The reason I was dreading it so much was because it wasn’t everyone’s first day of school. Just mine. That meant that everyone would already have all the friends that they needed. They wouldn’t even notice me. Maybe in elementary school, people would be eager to know my name and whether I liked soccer or not. But that was elementary school; high school was a completely different concept. When you were a junior, people looked past you like you were just another empty chair.
“Get ready,” my mom ordered. “You have to be at school by eight.”
I then groaned because I realized that I would have to walk with the cold, November wind slicing across my cheeks. To my inconvenience, my school, Luna Valley High School, didn’t have bus routes, and neither of my parents was able to drive me. Just my luck.
“Come on,” my mom said in a more demanding tone. “Get up.”
She left my room and I savored the last few seconds in my warm, safe bed. My big brown eyes looked up towards the ceiling

“Okay time to get up.” I commanded myself. Surprisingly my body obeyed, slowly, but it obeyed none the less.
Turning the shower nozzle all the way, so the water would be steaming hot just the way I liked it, I thought. I thought about what school would be like. I had moved several times before this and usually knew what to expect at a new school. Usually there was tons of homework, students passing notes, and the heavy textbooks weighing down my arms. But I didn’t know what it would be like at Luna Valley. The town alone was so weird, that I didn’t even know what to expect. Would the school be filled with silence, for nobody spoke to each other? Would people keep to themselves and not interact with others? Would I feel as if I was the only one in the entire school just as it felt like my family was the only family in the entire town? I pondered these questions as I gingerly stepped into the hot shower. That’s what I need to calm my nerves. A long, hot shower.
“Sophie!” my mom called

me from the kitchen about 30 minutes later. “Time to go!”
Before I left the room, I examined my back to school outfit in the clean, full length mirror. I wore a soft, pink American Eagle baby doll shirt that went perfectly with my tan complexion. I matched the shirt with dark blue skinny jeans that greatly flattered my figure. The pink ballet flats I added to the outfit were a wonderful touch. And, to top it all off, my brown curls lied in perfect spirals. The night before, I had worked extra hard on my look. Hopefully, I had thought, if I looked good enough, people would actually notice me. Every time I started at a new school nobody seemed to realize I was there. I couldn’t handle that anymore. Things had to change.
Still tired, I groggily sulked downstairs, grabbed my pink sweater off of the railing, and made my way into the kitchen. I sat down at the kitchen table and rested my head on the cool mahogany. It was very obvious that I wasn’t a morning person.
My mom took one look

and sternly told me to get up.
“You can’t sit down for breakfast,” She glanced at the clock which read 7:37. “You’ll be late.”
I agreed, for it took at least 20 minutes to walk to school. “Okay,” I said as I got up. Then, my stomach growled. My mom frantically searched through the kitchen coverts. “Here take this.”
I took the strawberry breakfast bar she handed me and smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” I turned on one heel and walked towards the door.
“Honey,” My mom stopped me in my tracks, glared at me and pointed to my father. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
I looked at my dad who was deeply concentrating on his laptop. My dad was a biologist, and Maine was filled with much nature. As a result, he worked so hard that he hardly looked away from the computer screen anymore.
I tugged my sweater over my head and rolled my eyes while I was under it, so my mom couldn’t see. It wasn’t like my dad cared. He was too busy with his work. I would have bet 1000 dollars to anyone stupid en

But, like a good girl, as I resurfaced, I said, “Goodbye, Dad.”
“Umhm,” my dad said, not bothering to look up from his laptop. “Have fun at football.” I sighed wishing someone would have been there to make the bet with. If I had, I would have been 1000 dollars richer, and I would have been able to buy the iPhone that I had been wanting for months.
My mom gave me an apologetic smile that said, “He was up all night. He’s tired and he can’t think right now.”
I ignored this. If he was so ‘tired’ then why was he working? Right now, I was mad at him for 4 reasons.
1. He made me move.

2. I didn’t even play football, and if he was a good father he would have known that. Heck, even just a mediocre father would have known that.
3. Any parent that cared would have known it was my first day of school. And he didn’t know, which basically was saying he wasn’t concerned with my life.
And 4. Couldn’t he take his eyes off of his stupid laptop for 2 seconds? Or would that be asking too much? It was like he didn’t even care about me.
I sighed, “School, Dad. I’m going to school.”
“Oh. Right, right.”
I sighed again, and without another word, I grabbed my backpack off of the table, vigorously took a bite out of my ‘Special K’ bar, and headed out the door and into the cold, fall air.
“Have a good day!’ my mom wished me luck before the door closed shut.
As I walked along the quiet and lonely highway, I wondered how the other kids were getting to school. I couldn’t see anyone walking and there were absolutely no cars on the road. I walked for a few minutes in silence.

Then, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I concluded that silence for over a week isn’t healthy for a person, especially me. Someone impatient and antsy like me should be restricted from silence; it could be hazardous to their health if they weren’t. I felt like I was going crazy.
“Uh!” I screamed to no one in particular. “What is wrong with this place? A little sound wouldn’t hurt every once and a while, you know!”
Then, as if someone was waiting for me to say those exact words, I heard a loud noise. It sounded as if someone angrily slammed a huge, glass vase onto a hard cement floor. But, the thing was, nobody was around. I cautiously looked to my left, and into the large field to see if someone was lurking in the tall prairie grass. But, nobody was there, nobody at all.
“You’re losing it, Sophie.” I scolded myself. I tried to forget about the mysterious noise.

At yet another attempt to forget about the mysterious noise, I fumbled to get my ipod out of my jean pocket. I turned to a fast and upbeat song. That was just what I needed to forget about the mysterious noise. Just what I needed to throw all my cares away.

Please don’t stop the music… music….music.
Please don’t stop the music… music….music.
Please don’t stop the music… music….music.
Please don’t stop the music… music….music.
Its getting late. I’m making my way over to my favorite place.

To my disgust, this song did not relate to my life in any way.
If I were to take it literally, it wasn’t getting late. And I wasn’t heading over to my favorite place. School was the last place I wanted to be.
But, of course, the ‘literals’ aren’t as important as the meaning of the song. Right now I wanted the music, or in this case the silence, to stop. It hurt and she didn’t like it.
Of course, I could pretend right? For the rest of the walk to school, I pretended that

the song related to my life exactly.
The school building was not easy to miss, for it was the only building that I could see for miles. I felt my ‘Special K’ bar make a U-turn as I saw the old, cracked and red-bricked building. I felt like running in the opposite direction.
“No, you are going to walk right into the building! You can do it!” I reassured myself.
As I walked into the school, I was filled with regret. I should have just turned around after all. It was just as I expected it to be. It was cold, dreary, scarcely decorated, and dimly-lighted, just like the town. I shivered and my nerves became stronger.
I walked into the dark secretary office and I noticed something strange. The woman sitting at the desk was impossibly pale. Her face looked like white chalk. It looked icy. She had blonde hair that look as soft as corn-silk. Her eyes were bright, bright blue, but seemed somewhat lifeless. But even as….different…. as she looked, she was mysterious beauty and seemed unto

untouchable. The most beautiful person I had ever seen. She was young too, and looked to be about 19 – way to young to be a secretary. I stared at her for what seemed the longest time. She couldn’t po ssibly be human… could she?
Compared to her, I felt ugly.
I finally mustered up enough courage and walked up to the beautiful secretary with icy-like features.
“Hi, I’m Sophie Vandella? I’m a new student.”
The woman looked tense and frightened as she looked upon me. “Oh, hello, yes, yes, let me find your schedule.” She spoke fast and looked down while looking at the files. It was obvious that she didn’t want to look me in the eye. I wondered if she was shy. I mean, why else would she be afraid of me? I was the cowardly one.
Still looking down, she gave me the papers with trembling fingers. “He-Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I gave her a smile, trying to tell her that I was a harmless human being, just like her.
But she would not look up.
Trying to shrug off the ‘cold shoulder’

feel I got from the secretary, I looked at my schedule. It wasn’t bad. Actually, it was perfect, except for the fact that I would be eating lunch at 1:15.
I looked away from my schedule and looked at the woman, who was still shaking. “Are you okay?” I asked with concern.
“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” she replied with a nervous, yet beautiful smile. “Oh, I forgot, Ryan Warnberg will be your guide for today, so you won’t get lost around the school. He has all of your classes, too. So, if you need help you can ask. Ryan!” she called.
As soon as she called, a boy walked into the office. He smiled confidently at me, and I began to relax. So it wasn’t me, just her. It was her problem she was frightened, there wasn’t anything wrong with me.
The boy, Ryan, had the same snow complexion as the lady, the same sharp features. He was just as beautiful. The only difference was that he had bright green eyes, as opposed to blue. I noticed that his hair was a dark, lush brown. I wondered if he was the

the secretary’s son. Even though she appeared to be young, that didn’t necessarily mean she was.
“Ryan, this is Sophie, the girl you will be helping out.” The secretary didn’t seem to be frightened of Ryan.
“Oh. Hey.” He smiled a perfect smile at me. I blushed.
“Hi.”
The secretary gave a dash for the door and Ryan rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry about her.” He said to me. “She’s just, uh, shy.”
“That’s fine.” I answered. “Is she your mom or something?”
“What?” Ryan suppressed laughter as if this was some sort of joke of which I wasn’t in on. “I get that a lot from the new kids. No, she’s only 20! Why?”
“You look exactly like her.” I said feeling somewhat embarrassed, although I didn’t know why exactly.
But, as I soon found out, everyone looked alike. Everyone had the same chalky skin tone. They were all beautiful. So beautiful and perfect. They either had sparkling blue or green eyes. They all had perfect smiles.
Their looks. Something else I could add to my ‘Strange Thing

Things about Lonokos’ list.
I compared my tan arm to Ryan’s pale one. My eyes were a deep brown instead of the beautiful tones of blue and green the other kids had. Right then and there, I knew I was going to stand out.
I was going to stand out. Just as I wanted.
Just as I wanted.
The saying ‘Be careful of what you wish for’ quickly ran through my head.
I would stand out just as I wished. But, now, more than ever, I wanted to blend in and be the same as everyone else. Anything was better than being a… a….Daylight Moon.
Yes, a Daylight Moon.
A Daylight Moon. Out of place. Strange. Stands out easily. Strange when compared to the rest.
I felt my forehead break out into a nervous sweat as I saw the students’ almond shaped eyes on me. They looked nervous, tense, scared, frightened hopeful and hungry all at the same time.

(I'm going to skip the next few paragraphs, all you need to know is that school is very hard and that the teachers dont like her) \

I barely made it through the next 6 periods. The key word, barely. I trudged along Ryan’s side from class to class. The clock seemed to be moving slower than usual. I could have sworn that if I heard the word ‘different’ from one of the students I would have cried. But the point is, I made it. Time for lunch.
Because, the school was small, the whole 11th grade had lunch the same period. Great, more staring eyes. But at least I had Ryan to get me throughout the day.
Ryan, my savior. He was the only one that talked to me. He was the only one that smiled at me and was actually interested in what I had to say. All the others did was stare at me with there perfect blue or green eyes. All they did was whisper.
As we walked through the wide cafeteria doors Ryan asked me, “Where shall we sit?”
I was a bit taken aback. I thought he was joking when he asked

Answer 1

You have posted this before. It needs a lot of editing, but it is workable.

The question is WHERE do you thihnk it can be published? Do you have a source in mind? Publishers do not publish single stories, they publish novels or anthologies.

There are basically 4 ways to sell short stories. To magazines, to e books, to anthologies and in contests.

In the first three ways you will find that pay for a story ranges from 5 bucks to about 25 bucks or between 1 and 5 cents a word. The reason for doing anthologies isn't to get rich, it is to get your name out there. Some pay nothing more than a copule copies of the book you're in.

Of course magazines like Playboy, Sports Illustrated, Esquire, GQ etc. pay a great deal more. However, they primarily deal with major authors and they hire them to write specific stories. Very rarely do major magazines accept a pitch from an unknown and tell them to go ahead with it. And there are a limited number of magazines that publish fiction.

As for contests, there are a few legit ones. Check with Absolute Write Water Cooler Bewares and Background Checks and Preditors and Editors. There are contests that pay 1,000 like Glimmer Train but they are very very hard to win. They are almost impossible to even sell a story to. Glimmer Train also charges a 35 dollar fee every time you enter a story.

Sorry but you will not be making thousands or even hundreds selling your stories. PJ M - a regular contributor here is a fairly well known anthology contributor. I have known him for several years now. I don't think he has ever gotten more than 50 bucks and a couple copies for a story. But it does get his name out there for the benefit of his longer works.

Buy yourself a copy of Writers Market and read it cover to cover. Best 30 bucks you will ever spend. In the back there are markets for short stories - see if there are any seeking vampire genre stories. You are facing a lot of stiff competition though. Do you realize how many vampire stories I get every day to read? And I am not even an agent! I am working on editing an anthology, but please don't send me vampire stories - that is not what I am seeking.

Since Twilight, every kid has a vampire story going. You have to work very hard to make yours unique and different. Everybody has a vegan vamp thing going now.


----
They're, Their, There - Three Different Words.

Careful or you may wind up in my next novel.

Pax - C

Answer 2

Wow! That's fairly well! I like Vira, do not difference it. its fairly well! You have plenty of element in it that's well, you'll experience what Vira is feeling, what she is seeing, how she thinks of herself. I fairly feel it will probably do good. I feel that you will have Vira meet a Bad and Good vampire clique (like one proudly owning Blood Banks and one like Vira herself) there must be a struggle probably? Between the 2? one query i used to be pressured... did Viras mom and Father die? Then how come you had been modified? Another identify i could endorse is Athena? or... Josselyn? It is dependent what time interval she used to be born/modified, like if it used to be the early 1900's then do a complicated, extra severe identify, if its cutting-edge then whatever useful like Kyla? Or probably even Alyssa... :) I love these types of books and you've got a fairly well begin, simply do not drive the writing allow it drift... Some matters i could point out is the time interval, a town, and even pass into intensity of the household historical past... I desire to study extra approximately this 'creature' you will have Vira try to uncover him/her. How ancient is Vira? Does she have any particular competencies? Unique Traits? Hopefully I gave you a few ingenious perception :) Kasey playstation . I would not difference the identify Vira is mysterious :) similar to your person

Answer 3

It's pretty good, but honestly, there are way too many vampire stories out there right now to publish any more. I would try writing something TOTALLY different, because you have the writing talent, it's just, right now, I'm not sure if the publishing industry would really want another vampire story, you know? kinda like I don't think they would want another "Gossip Girl" type series, because now there's like a million.

Edit

And it is a tad too much like Twilight.

Answer 4

great writing.....how your worry and fear gave you nightmares....but who gets transfered to a town of 404? Your dad better be building a hydro plant ...and that neither of your parents could drive you the first day?....your mom snapped up a job that fast or was going into labour? I liked it..I read the whole thing,yes I think it could be published

Answer 5

OMG!!!!! I think that is fabulous. I have not read alot of vampire stories but this is awesome!!!! I would like you to finish the story. Like how sophie was killed and also how she was lured in by hm. But otherwise it is awesome!!!!! You should totally get it published!!!!!