?

I've got four Discworld novels, namely:

The Colour of Magic

The Fifth Elephant

Monstrous Regiment

Making Money.

It's fair to say I'll read Colour of Magic first, but would I be best reading them all in order, or can I just read the ones I've got? I'm not really sure how it works as a series.

Any advice on what books to read before others/ story arcs etcetera? Thanks.

http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/1192/pond.png

I just found the short story I wrote for GCSE English. It's really bad, but beyond the excessive metaphors I can't figure out why.

I can't post all of it because it's too long, but I'd appreciate criticism on this bit.

It's dystopian, written a couple of years ago. I never really figured out the specifics of the dystopia, but basically whatever goes on happens at night so people who don't sleep get taken away.

She didn't speak for three days after they took him. She just sat, doing nothing except wring her fingers; her eyes not settling on the same thing for more than a few seconds. It is only on this fourth morning that she opens the door to me, staring with terrified eyes into mine and says, 'They took him, Roe.' She looks down again, 'Where is he?' I close the door on the violent rain that has pounded relentlessly down all week.

-- I don't have anything to say; I used everything I could in the last few hopeless days and the words are all gone. I lay a hand on her shoulder and try to draw something from nothing.

-- 'Cathy-' She shakes her head silently and walks away from me. I follow as she drifts into the kitchen and sits herself heavily on a chair, as if shocked. I start again, 'How are you, Cathy?' she stares past me, watching her demons, 'Cath?' her gaze flickers back onto mine, and I see everything. Devastation, outrage, terror.

-- 'Why? Why are they doing this? What, because of their stupid curfew, because he couldn't sleep?' Her voice is sharp, cold, full of hatred. She starts to cry; horrible, ugly tears stain her face with the grief and emotion that has built up inside her. I stroke her hair in a bid to comfort her, it is oily, gritty- she hasn't washed it.

-- 'Whisht, Cathy. They'll bring him back. You hear stories all the time of people they've brought back.' She answers with cynicism,

-- 'More who they haven't.' I try to talk her round, to keep her positive, but she won't be convinced. I doubt she will ever change in that sense.

-- I am torn from my thoughts by the sound of a heavy vehicle outside. A door slams and a second later the doorbell rings, the hollow metallic sound resonating fear throughout the house. Cathy's face floods petrified. I leave her sat silent and approach the door tentatively, as though it may pounce. A tall, dark-haired man stands square and businesslike on the doorstep, a solemn black government van parked in the street behind him.

-- 'This is the residence of Catherine Liggen?'

-- I nod frugally, 'Yes.' He looks me up and down, and I notice the cardboard box he is holding.

-- 'And you are?' It takes me a moment to respond, as I am looking at the box, trying to read the label from this angle.

-- 'Uh, Roe, Roe Jack.' The man scans a sheet of paper, before looking up at me and raising a wordless eyebrow. 'Close friend. Can I take that?' I reach out for the box and the man releases it.

-- 'Sign here.' I scribble a false signature on the paper he holds out to me, and he leaves, trapping me with the box. It is only when I turn from the door that I see the label.

---- Liggen, Callun- Nonsleeper. Personal effects.

-- All my consciousness plummets into my stomach, my mouth is dry; my mind numb. Suddenly Cathy is stood in front of me, like an impending avalanche. I watch with baited breath as her eyes drift down from my face to the box in my hands. Horror hits her face, all colour drains out of her. She snatches the box from my grip and carries it into the kitchen, like a cat with its prey. I do not follow; I feel she wouldn't want me there. I simply stand watching the blank white walls, listening. Paper rustles, but Cathy doesn't make a sound.

I've cut it off there, but there is more to it than that. Be as blunt as you like- any criticism will do, broad or specific.

I've got a houseplant in my bedroom that I've had for a few years (I'm pretty sure it's a type of kalanchoe)

I've noticed this morning that some of the new growth on one of its branches has black marks on the leaves and part of the stem.

Is this bad? Should I treat it or cut off this branch, or should it be okay to leave it?