Critiques are by Idore Anschell.
Leap,
September, 2011
I love this story, Bridget. Why? Because of the last line. That last line catches the story as if the story is a spinning ball that must be stopped by something extraordinary, something that leaps on it and gives it a tailspin!
The first sentence (a paragraph) and the second (longer) paragraph are about two lives—the first gives a peep into the coming drama, the second—from an email or a telephone call—a confession and a wooing. All is in direct or indirect address to the reader, the most engaging technique a writer can have.
The second paragraph—the wooing—could have resulted in a variety of endings. I am happy that you wrote that paragraph and the one that follows it—the one that informs us of “the newly empty ring finger of my left hand”--to that ending!
I ask: Does the content of the last line matter? Of course it does. When doesn’t it matter? NEVER!
And in the case of such a little story that requires a reverberating kick at the end—oh, does it ever matter! In this case, the “so I let him in” in the context of the new apartment and the “newly empty ring finger of my left hand” arouses my experience of loneliness and so?—I might as well open the door.
This story, in my view, is perfect!
Thank you for it.
SuicideSolution, Sept. 28, 2011
Well, this is challenging! How can I critique this show-stopping, experimental, alliterative writing, as a story? Must I call in a designated hitter?
No! I can do it. My secret ingredient? Your checkmark evaluation! Interestingly enough, this work received five “fives” in a row, plus four more! And these fives were in substantive areas—originality, initial power, suspense, title’s significance, powerful images, powerful language, and overall structural integrity. Ending and overall emotional impact received fours, and I can deal with that in the same way I would for any story. You do have a story--underneath. I think the story underneath is what I must critique, with a bow to the alliteration, for after all, alliteration by itself would be a crusade in sounds. That is not the case here. I’m absolutely certain that you wanted a story PLUS the fun of alliteration throughout. So, onward!
The beginning is charming: A setting of Hades scares the righteous and the other, and so captures this reader. With “Down in the deepest depths of Hades,” I am in suspense, and that’s the very best place to be for a story. And the first action plan seems carefully drawn, as in your other stories. (I wonder if you are a mystery story writer—an adventure story writer?). Will Sexy Suzy be artificially inseminated with the devil’s semen? Ah oh! Betrayal by Dondon who on the sly inseminates on his own.
BUT NO! I AM WRONG! Dondon “inseminated Suzy with the Devil’s sinful semen as she slept.” What is going on here? Why did I think Dondon was in the opposite camp? I think it was the “Deceptive denizen” appellation to Dondon—that made me think he was a rebel down in Hades. More, as I read again (and again), I find myself up at the top at “dubious scheme”: So Dondon took it into his own hands. For our usual reader, I honestly think the fun of the alliteration won over clarity here.
Poor suffering Suzy “swallowed cyanide as “demonic Dondon” fell asleep. But what is this “silently suffering” business? In particular, why should it be silently (other than for the nice s’s)? Should I know what made her silently suffer? Did she discover that Dondon was a jackass devil incarnate? It all ends with Suzy’s martyrdom: Her death triggers the destruction of the Devil’s attempt at (maybe) inseminating her with the poison that would “devastate the world in darkness.”
If I look for a real plot line, I do find it. Where it gets into trouble is in motivations and characterizations that seem to succumb to alliteration.
Oh, you tried to do something very, very difficult. The difficulty is shown in the checkmark evaluation’s “2”-very, very low for clarity, the “3” for convincing characters, and the “4’s” for power of ending and overall emotional impact.
I applaud you for your wondrous undertaking. You certainly should submit this to fantasy contests, Fanstory contests, and other contests that you may know about better than I do, particularly ones that allow you to play as you brilliantly have done here. You are inspirational!
Thank you!
Feb. 16, 2010
“The Walk”
You received good marks, Denice. The first sentence is an explosion of hurt in a person: powerful, active verbs and formidable nouns. The fourth sentence and the sixth sentence are also strong. You give us the energy in active verbs, and you pound away on one drum—one theme. This keeps us readers fixed, attentive, to the end.
Now for the how-the-story-might-be-improved part: The third sentence is passive—“soon to be taken.” Active verbs, such as in your first sentence, energize the story and us. You know: In active, we do. In passive, something is done to us. Also, I wonder if the third sentence is a grammatically ok sentence in Australia. Would it make a more relaxed and more correct sentence in Australia if you said, “The last breath would be soon. . . ."? (I’m a stickler for correct grammar in prose.)
The only sentence that does not add critical information is the last one. The sentence is redundant and I would write something else there. (I don’t know what, but it would have something to do with the narrator, as the existing sentence does.)
To continue on mechanics, in the second sentence, “spirit” is the subject and “measured” is the verb. The comma you have after “spirit” interrupts the thought. . . .
I would advise you to reinforce your use of commas by checking out Google. I have recently reinforced my own knowledge, in particular the four uses of commas.
Now that I have wrecked your day, I want to tell you I do appreciate your participation in our contest. It’s a boon to us that we have Australian writers come visit us. The 100 word (or fewer) story offers a microcosm for the study of writing, as well as an amazing opportunity to reveal a human truth and connect with others on our planet.
But the most important words I can give you are these: You give us a story of real feeling for a human who felt “torment and abuse.” The feeling arrives with a strength that is more important to hold onto than any technical thing I can say about your story.
Thank you for being with us, Denice. Do come again!
Idore
Dear...
Yours is certainly a universal experience, and so is rich for a story. Your sentences move well and I have to study each carefully to know why I am engaged, and why I might not be engaged.
I suggest starting with the second sentence. It shows more clearly than the first what is happening.
What is the significance of putting on shorts?
Now we come to the heart: You "stir in the silence before the first movements of morning." What are these movements? The story would be much stronger, in my opinion, if you presented details of his presence--morning rituals--even conversation--that you think are happening but of course turn out to not be happening. I believe this would give power to the climax.
Sincerely,
Idore Anschell
How Stephen King Saved Me
The beginning is Stephen-King-explicit! (I think Evaluator Blue wanted something more original—We receive many stories of bedroom attacks, to tell you the truth. But submitters could not know that.)
Continuing, the story snaps like electricity. No wasted words! “. . .loomed like a dark cloud” is evocative and sensory, especially following “shower of books.” The electricity continues with the lightning storm image—“an epic crack that sounded like thunder.”
You could call out a heavyweight boxing championship, Nancy.
I’m going to tell you the truth: I have never read a whole Stephen King book. (I met his daughter in Seattle. She looks like him.) I can’t tell if you like his work.
What do I find missing, though, in your story? I miss a conviction of reality. I don’t hear anything from you, the narrator. You clearly are not overpowered, either mentally or physically, in this fight. Would you yell, though?
What weakens rather than strengthens the story, in my view, is the reference to Stephen King’s book saving you, like a pun. It weakens the story because such an experience is not at all funny, and you seem to turn it to wry humor, especially at the end. Aren’t I right?
You are such a good writer. Let’s have some more good writing from you!
Idore
Dear. . .,
Here is a critique on your story, “December, Route 10.”
Lovely first sentence! And the rest moves on the seawaters with the same light, unwavering intensity and purpose.
The checkmark evaluators marked you down a little for originality and suspense. I think that’s because we receive so many love stories that take place in somebody’s bed! A difference is that in yours, the plot does not end in sadness.
This does seem a perfect situation for our little form—There is no story that can provide more emotional impact than a love story. The stakes are always high and the same. Your woman shows an uncompromising strength, but even she is clearly taking a chance. (I wish that a story might come in where the person who tries to pry the other from the bed and who drives the other home is the woman.)
I do see possibilities for enhancement in details that would bear on their future. The characters are real, but we don’t know diddly about them: Instead of “late for something,” you could fill this in, and it might tell us about their connection or lack thereof. In the same vein, it is likely that she is “stale in (her) clothes, skin imprinted…” But this, too, could be replaced with details that would let us get to know them better and guess with some confidence about whether they are going to spend lifetimes together. If this bed down state is all there is (my brother would say), is it likely they’ll stay together?
You might answer: “Well, Idore, I didn’t say they haven’t known each other from kindergarten.” Right—but you didn’t tell me they have known each other since then, either. I am thinking about master stories, to tell you the truth. Such details are likely in them.
Like you, I have a problem with the title. It doesn’t say much. I’m open to another one.
You have makings of a fine writer, Megan. Thank you for the story!
Idore