Just a excript to see how people respond to it, and have it critiqued...
This is a part of a story i am working on, is based on actual events during a trip i took years ago (Age-16) to my aunt and uncle in australia:--dr. b
I sat in a seat near one of the windows of a Boeing-737 destined for Sydney Australia. I stared out at the scenery that unfolded; a red rolling desert with various trees and bushes scattered about, this was the vast and deserted outback of Australia, where in less than five hours I would be residing for the summer with my aunt Phyllis and uncle Ed; helping them raise horses. They were distant relations of the Kerner family; aunt Phyllis was my mother’s sister. I was to stay for the summer, as sort of a change from my normal life, a vacation my parents had said.
My normal life in the upper side of Manhattan New York consisted of caviar, estates, banquets and champagne, well, apple cider for me. My father, James Garth is both a very successful businessman, investing most of his time in his microchip firm, and the sole heir to a vast oil fortune. My mother, Marie Garth-Steinbrenner, the latter being her maiden name, is a fashion designer, who just recently started a new line, Simple Beauty; she called it, which had grown popular with thirteen to seventeen-year-old girls. Her grandfather was the founder and current owner of the New York Yankees, George Steinbrenner, so she too was related to a millionaire, and being the only daughter, according to my grandfather, the sole heir of the organization.
As I continued to stare out of the window, a flight attendant approached my seat, “Would you care for a drink?” she asked, carrying a strong Australian accent. “No thank you.” I said. She smiled, and then left to cater other passengers needs. I sat back in my chair, closing my eyes for a moment. I opened my eyes and then reached down to my small backpack underneath my seat and grabbed my notebook; I started to write, writing being my one true talent and key interest:
June 7th, 2004
Dear Journal: Today I arrive in Australia, then I go on a 2 hour car ride to my aunt and uncle’s ranch, outside of Sydney, where I’m going to live like a horse breeder…sounds a little fun, not much of a person for horses, rode one once, ended up lost, but I found my way home after a few hours, this summer is starting slow, it’s been a week since school got out…--Bryan D.
I finished writing, and slid my mechanical pencil into the pocket of my Wrangler jeans. I then slid my notebook into my backpack and zipped it closed. Just then there was an announcement; we were to be landing in five minutes. Well here I go, I thought, as I buckled my seat belt just before the plane landed. The plane taxied to the terminal and then came to a slow halt. I unbuckled my seat belt. I was feeling a bit nervous, and anxious I grabbed my backpack and headed toward the exit of the plane and into the terminal, waiting to see what this “vacation”, threw me.
I walked out of the terminal with my backpack around my shoulder. I searched for the faces of my aunt and uncle, but to no avail. I walked down the stretch of the airport that was lined with terminals, gateways to other cultures, I thought. I had been walking for about five minutes when I heard someone shouting for me with an Australian accent, with a hint that the person surfed, “’ oy, you there with the blue backpack.” I turned in the direction of the voice. I saw a boy with blond hair, blue eyes, and who bore the looks of a surfer, he also looked to be no older than 18. “Yes?” I said wonderingly. “ Are you Bryan?” the boy said. “Yes, who are you?” I asked. “Don’t you remember me…though you were just a little squirt when I last saw you, I’m your cousin, Danny.” He said. “Oh…” I said as my memories of him came rushing back like a stampede. “My mum an’ dad send their apologies for not coming to pick you up dude, they had to go out to look for Roxie and a few other horses that got loose yesterday.” Danny said. “Well, got your stuff?”
I nodded. “Lets go, follow me to my jeep.” He said. I followed him to his jeep, which turned out to be a fairly old jeep Cherokee. I put my stuff in the back seat and climbed in. Danny started the jeep, “seat belt”, He reminded me just before he shifted into gear and pulled out of his sidewalk parking spot. He followed the caravan of vehicles heading towards the exit of the airport. He reached the 4-way intersection and turned north.
A couple hours had passed swiftly, the scenery changing from vast bronze outback to lush grassland. We drove along a highway that wound its way parallel to a nearby river that snaked through the valley. Danny turned on to a dirt road that wound up into the hills along the valley. We continued along this road for about an hour when we came upon a large ranch house. It was situated to the left of the road; the road continued to wind on up the hill, stretching up and over it. Danny pulled the jeep off into the ranch house’s driveway.
The jeep rolled to a stop and Danny finally turned off the jeep and got out, as did I. Just then the screen door on the ranch house opened and a burly looking man walked out, followed by short, fragile looking woman.
“Welcome my boy, welcome,