What do you think about opening an Afro-centric school in Toronto?

What do you think of this opening for a novel?

• Please give me honest opinions, I hate it when someone just shouts, "I Love it" and doesn't give me any sort of criticism. If you like it, awesome; if you want to read more, tell me and tell me what your thoughts and hopes for the protagonist (if this excerpt intrigues you). But please keep it on a friendly note as I am just beginning this. This is part of my opening, not the entire chapter. . . . . . . I stood silently behind a kitchen grill where I worked every weekend. I would usually reminisce on what life was like when I was clueless and worry free. Before I realized what a complicated place the world is. I recalled my uncle telling me once, "To gain respect in this world, you must always be yourself." Now I know that's complete bull (s)hit. I don't want any misconception with my uncle, for he was a very smart and respected man. But, plain and simple, what he told me was wrong. The only reason why I had any friends was because I had to fake who I was. It's known universally that everyone is different. In my high school, the popularity came from those who shared a certain similarity. That similarity was the glue for any social faction. I never had that similarity . . . thank god for that. Whether it was academics, sports, music or even prolific hobbies, I never indulged myself in such activities. That left me without a coterie or any group of friends I could call my own. Instead, I partook in minimal interest such as watch movies, read books and write blogs. Pathetic? Perhaps, but that's what I considered a pitch perfect Friday night. Although I do not in the least consider myself a popular student, I did have friends in middle school. I had to lie that I was good at basket ball or something but I did it successfully. The reason for it was because I needed friends, like any sane person. I'm not necessarily proud of it but I bet most of you reading this couldn't tell me different. Most of you must have lied at least once to benefit your own social status. Although I hated hiding who I was, my uncle was still wrong. At the end of middle school, my lying ceased and I stopped playing sports with my supposed friends. As I figured, I was ostracized from that group and my self esteem plunged as I entered high school. It left me a friendless shell of a human being with no motivation. Alas, one thing I learned from my own, short but enlightening, life experiences was that nothing lasts forever. My depression slowly dissipated as I realized surviving every lunch period in the library had made me a somewhat better student. Nevertheless, high school was a lost cause for me. I will never make any sort of friends in a school where everyone was fake. I now, from the urges of my terribly underpaid single mother, found a job at a franchised restaurant chain. It was the perfect opportunity to keep myself from going insane and to gain self confidence. There was the money of course but there was also the people, all of whom don't act as if I were a leper. Waking me from a nearly dosed but conscious state, I heard a girl say my name. I looked up and saw one of the waitresses stand behind the take out counter. Her name was Jaime, she had light brown hair, like mine, cinched into a pony tail and blue eyes that always seemed to scintillate as I gazed upon them. “Warren?” she said. “Do you have the calamari for table 36?” I nodded wildly, immediately walking to the deep fryer down the kitchen line. I was always tongue tied when I pretty girl spoke to me. Yes, I'm a socially awkward person but what did you expect from a teenager deprived of friends since the ninth grade? . . . . . Like I said before, I'm a beginner. I don't really want to explain the story behind this and I haven't edited really much.

• Answer:

  Well let me give the compliment first. The character seems like a great place to start and it almost made me think these were things you personally think and feel. So remember it's always best to start with the character and build the story from there. Now the critique and it's something I see often with new writers. While what the character thinks and feels is interesting, use that as a backbone and bring the reader into the moment. What I mean is, start with something actually happening to the character so the reader will stick around to see how he or she will respond to it. You can get into back story later because starting with a character quietly musing to their self isn't the kind of hook you want. Right now it's what's known as an 'information dump' meaning a little too much the reader doesn't need to know yet. The best beginning is where something new happens to a character, something changes, something propels them in a new direction. Tension is your friend in writing, especially in the beginning. My interest picks up with the waitress calling him and he gets nervous. Interaction and dialogue, how the character relates to others is what your reader will relate to. Once they care about the character and become involved with what's happening - then go into back story. Good luck with it!