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I'm Trying To Write A Story For Publication. Could Use Your Honest Opinion. How Do You Like The First Page?

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Superiorfeline | 16:47 Fri 07th Dec 2018 | Arts & Literature
34 Answers
The day the new neighbors moved into the abandoned house behind the hill, the ocean went crazy.

Cathy was walking on the shore when the ocean suddenly rumbled and swelled in the windless early September midday. Waves crashed against the shore, so powerful that the sand vibrated. The lifeguard was urging swimmers to get out of the water.

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy's head whipped toward the sound. A boy of about seven was struggling against the current, his face twisted in terror.

Cathy rushed into the water and gasped at the ferocity of the current. It was like hands on the small of her back shoving her forward. A waved slammed against her chest, sending her stumbling backwards into the shore and knocking her into the sand.

Through the roar of the ocean, the crashing waves, bare running footsteps on wet sand, the boy's terrified screams, and men shouting instructions to each other, there was the sound of dolphins trilling, squeaking, whistling. For one insane moment, she was sure dolphins and sharks had washed off to shore.

She leapt to her feet and turned sideways. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy about her age, sixteen. He was looking deep into the ocean and imitating a dolphin. She'd never heard a human make such sounds before.

She closed the distance between them in five brisk steps. "A little boy is drowning, and you stand there making dolphin sounds," she yelled. "Help instead. Be a man."

"Don’t disturb my concentration." He stepped closer to the water, walking on the balls of his feet like a cat, his feet barely touching the sand. "I'm trying to communicate here."

The little boy was spinning in a whirlpool. This moron was trying to communicate? Trying to communicate?! The blood rushed to her head. Her face burned. Rage shot through her body like an electrical jolt. "You think now's a good time to be a clown?" She slammed her fist into an open palm an inch away from his face.

She whirled around at the sound of a freight train coming from the ocean. She screamed when she saw what it was. A water tornado rose above the huge waves and hurtled itself into shore, slamming into the lifeguard a few feet away. The roof shot toward the white glare of the sky. The stairs, the banister. All gone. Chunks of metal and wood swirled around madly.

Dark shapes appeared in the water, blurry under the raging foam. Sharks. They were swimming toward the boy who was twirling around so fast, he became a blur of dark hair and the light blue of his swimming suite.

Cathy ran toward the devastation of the lifeguard's hut as the water tornado lifted into the sky. She snatched a metal bar off the sand with shaking hands. She'd hit the shark on the head, poke them in the eyes, whatever it took.

She bolted toward the water and froze in her tracks as a dolphin's head popped out of the water, sleek and glistering in the blinding sunrays. The dolphins reached the boy and hoisted him up. He clung to a dolphin, too terrified to scream.

The metal bar dropped from her hand into the sand as the dolphins swam to shore, toward the lifeguard who stood knee-deep in the water, barely keeping his footing in the monstrous current. He took the child from the dolphin and ran toward her.

"You two." He looked from her to the boy she'd almost punched. "Away. Now. Away from the water."

There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze, and for a second, she couldn’t breathe or move. The ocean was receding, exposing wet sand that stretched toward the horizon, covered with withering guppies and goldfishes. A tsunami.
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You need a (good) sub-editor. I'm not especially good, but this is what I'd do with that storyline. It was early September when the ocean went mad. The same day a family moved into the abandoned house behind the hill. Cathy felt it rather than heard it, as she walked along the shoreline: a deep rumble as if from the depths of some mythical beast. Despite the calm...
19:16 Fri 07th Dec 2018
Grrrr Ignore that I've asked for it to be deleted that's the original :(

And I always thought the Goldfish was a freshwater fish to be honest,
Much too much in too short a space at the opening. OK, if you want an enticing opening, the first sentence is enough. You then need a little character-building and story-building before this rather climatic scene - second sentence could be "It all started when . . . . " or something similar IMHO.

P.S. the plural of goldfish is goldfish, and they're fresh water fish.

Good luck.
Sorry try this :-

The day the new people moved into the house behind the hill, the ocean went crazy.  

Cathy was walking on the shore when the water suddenly rumbled and swelled in the windless early September morning. Waves crashed against the shore, so powerful that the sand vibrated. 

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy turned toward the sound to see a boy of about seven struggling against the current, his face twisted in terror.  

She rushed into the water gasping at the ferocity of the current. A waved slammed against her chest, sending her stumbling backwards onto the shore, knocking her into the sand.  

Through the roar of the ocean,crashing waves, bare running footsteps on wet sand and the boy's terrified screams,there was another more unusual sound, that of dolphins trilling and whistling. 
For one insane moment, she was sure that dolphins and sharks had washed onto the shore.  

She clamboured to her feet. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy of about sixteen. He was looking transfixedly into the water, imitating a dolphin. She had never heard a human make such sounds before.  

'He's drowning!For God sakes help him!' 
She closed the distance between them in a few quick steps. 

"Don’t disturb my concentration." 
He stepped closer to the water, walking on the balls of his feet like a cat, his feet barely touching the sand. "I'm trying to communicate."
The little boy was spinning in a whirlpool and he was trying to communicate? Rage shot through her body like an electrical jolt but before she could respond there was the sound of a freight train coming from the ocean. She screamed when she saw what it was.
A tornado of water rose above the huge waves and hurtled onto the shore, slamming into the lifeguard's hut a few feet away. The roof shot toward the white glare of the sky. The stairs and bannisters splintered and gone. Chunks of metal and wood swirled around madly. 
Then she saw dark shapes appear in the water, blurry under the raging foam. Sharks. They were swimming toward the boy who was swirling around so fast, he became a blur of dark hair and the light blue of his swimming suit. 
She bolted toward the water and froze in her tracks as a dolphin's head popped out of the water, sleek and glistering in the blinding sunrays. The dolphins reached the boy and hoisted him up. He clung to one, too terrified to scream as the dolphins swam to shore, toward the lifeguard who stood knee-deep in the water, barely keeping his footing in the monstrous current. He snatched the child from the dolphin and ran toward her. 

"You two." He looked from her to the boy she'd almost punched. "Away. Now. Away from the water." 

There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze, and for a second, she couldn’t breathe or move.
The ocean was receding, exposing wet sand that stretched toward the horizon, covered with withering fish and sealife. A tsunami.


very quick answer: use the word "ocean" less often. Find synonyms: water, swell, wave. You could probably do with slightly calmer prose, less roaring, slamming and crashing, but this will depend on exactly what you're trying to do.
Nah. All a bit melodramatic. You should read more Hemingway. He knows how to paint a picture with the minimum of words. You use far too many.
I agree with most of the comments so far. You must read carefully what you have written so that you can spot obvious errors such as misplaced singulars/plurals. There are no freight trains in the ocean. Do you have the rest of the story plotted out yet? The beginning is so frantic that there doesn't seem much further to go in the way of building tension. Best wishes. Keep working at it.
-- answer removed --
Looks like our ‘honest’ opinions were a bit much.
The removed answer wasn't the OP.
Are you sure?
I cannot be 100% sure there is/was no connection, that's impossible to say.
Zacs is right. In fact, give up writing for a while and READ instead. Read Hemingway, Hardy, Wells, Steinbeck - all masters of the short story. Read Dorothy Parker’s essays. Read Doris Lessing, Annie Proulx.

There are many. Read, and drink in, marvel at the apparent simplicity, masking the hard labour that is writing.

And for gord’s sake have the courtesy to reply to our answers.
Well, I am.

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