Calling for Critiques
In the last two months, on the occasions where I managed to log into my Mac at home after a stressful day in front of my dual screens at the office, I would check Facebook, email and then my Blogger dashboard. I'd committed to participating in Write Club 2012, a competition hosted by DL Hammons, where two short stories or excepts (500 words or less) were randomly selected to compete with voting determining the winners. With over a hundred entries, not all stories would be selected. I knew I would be ok if mine was never posted and I was determined to vote on every story to show support to my fellow writers. The stories were posted every Monday, Wednesday and Friday... the three days I had hoped to put myself on a blogging schedule. And while it's not a good excuse at all, and while I only managed to vote on about 20 of the 36 rounds of competition, I must admit that after reading and carefully entering commentary that I thought might be helpful to the writers, I was just done for the night. When I did try to post, the blank screen of where my new post should have been written seemed to mock me and only worsened my case of writer's block. Exhaustion is a tough hurdle to overcome, especially when you don't have a whole lot of progress to report as to your creative writing efforts.
Well, the Write Club contest is just about over and the winners of previous rounds are all competing to be the final champion. There were so many great stories and I really did enjoy reading and offering my critiques... so much so that I began to worry that maybe I should have pursued becoming an editor instead of an aspiring author. However, I was thinking now that the voting commitment has lessened and my entry was not selected... perhaps posting it here and asking for critiques would be a good way to get back into the writing game and get myself motivated again to finish this book. So, for anyone interested in helping me, I am not in search of warm fuzzies (though they are nice to receive). I am hoping for honest and critical feedback on this excerpt. Ready, set, go:
My skinny, salt-covered legs were plodding across the heavily weeded yard back to the small beach house that offered a long awaited blast of cool air-conditioning. After a full day of being dragged behind the boat like shark bait, I wanted nothing more than to push past the sea foam green front door with the ridiculous starfish knocker and sprawl out onto the cold tile floor of the rental. A slurred voice shouted over my shoulder, breaking my focus.
“What was this one’s name again?” I turned my sun crisped body sharply as dread rose up and began to form an unsettling lump in my throat. My father’s eyes narrowed in conjunction with his drunken sneer. At his feet lay a red and white cooler and dangling from his outstretched hand, twitched my temporary pet of the day. When I’d first found her, I had silently hoped she wasn’t big enough to keep. Among all of the typical brownish red ones we’d caught that week, she was unique… and therefore I thought she should be spared. Unfortunately, Eugene-the-Pain had been watching me like an annoying little hawk through his cloudy snorkel mask and had scooped into his bag what I’d pretended to miss. On the two hour choppy ride back, I plucked one of the normal ones out of the cooler and inspected him. I decided that he would be called Fred and when I turned him on his back, he barked. I reached into the cooler again, carefully retrieving the one-clawed bright pink lobster and closed the lid. After settling in to my lone spot at the rear of the boat, I turned her over and she barked, too. Fred instantly barked a reply. I wondered how many other kids knew that lobsters could talk and smiled to myself.
My crustacean puppet show had been all fun and games until now. “It’s PINKY!” my younger brother squealed in delight as he waved a box of Ziploc baggies like a baton. He was leading the Tortured Sister Parade. My eyes welled with tears as I started to run back toward the dock. I was ashamed of myself for not throwing Pinky overboard when no one was looking. Surely I could have faked an accidental drop as we hit one of the waves without igniting my father’s wrath… but my lack of courage had sealed her fate. I stopped running across the sun-scorched yard, knowing that my tears would have no effect on what was about to happen. In horror, I watched as my father gripped Pinky’s head and abruptly twisted. With a loud snap, her body separated. Her little head was still barking as it flew through the air and hit the water.
“Well, now its name is Dinner,” said my father smugly as he slid the pink tail into a baggy and sealed it shut. A silent tear slid down my cheek as he wrote my name on the outside of the bag in bold black letters as if it were a school lunch sack.
My skinny, salt-covered legs were plodding across the heavily weeded yard back to the small beach house that offered a long awaited blast of cool air-conditioning. After a full day of being dragged behind the boat like shark bait, I wanted nothing more than to push past the sea foam green front door with the ridiculous starfish knocker and sprawl out onto the cold tile floor of the rental. A slurred voice shouted over my shoulder, breaking my focus.
“What was this one’s name again?” I turned my sun crisped body sharply as dread rose up and began to form an unsettling lump in my throat. My father’s eyes narrowed in conjunction with his drunken sneer. At his feet lay a red and white cooler and dangling from his outstretched hand, twitched my temporary pet of the day. When I’d first found her, I had silently hoped she wasn’t big enough to keep. Among all of the typical brownish red ones we’d caught that week, she was unique… and therefore I thought she should be spared. Unfortunately, Eugene-the-Pain had been watching me like an annoying little hawk through his cloudy snorkel mask and had scooped into his bag what I’d pretended to miss. On the two hour choppy ride back, I plucked one of the normal ones out of the cooler and inspected him. I decided that he would be called Fred and when I turned him on his back, he barked. I reached into the cooler again, carefully retrieving the one-clawed bright pink lobster and closed the lid. After settling in to my lone spot at the rear of the boat, I turned her over and she barked, too. Fred instantly barked a reply. I wondered how many other kids knew that lobsters could talk and smiled to myself.
My crustacean puppet show had been all fun and games until now. “It’s PINKY!” my younger brother squealed in delight as he waved a box of Ziploc baggies like a baton. He was leading the Tortured Sister Parade. My eyes welled with tears as I started to run back toward the dock. I was ashamed of myself for not throwing Pinky overboard when no one was looking. Surely I could have faked an accidental drop as we hit one of the waves without igniting my father’s wrath… but my lack of courage had sealed her fate. I stopped running across the sun-scorched yard, knowing that my tears would have no effect on what was about to happen. In horror, I watched as my father gripped Pinky’s head and abruptly twisted. With a loud snap, her body separated. Her little head was still barking as it flew through the air and hit the water.
“Well, now its name is Dinner,” said my father smugly as he slid the pink tail into a baggy and sealed it shut. A silent tear slid down my cheek as he wrote my name on the outside of the bag in bold black letters as if it were a school lunch sack.
And there you have it, a snippet from my memoir style novel... and also the reason why I don't eat seafood anymore. :-) Now, I know it wasn't the most uplifting story (I promise the whole book won't be like this), but the contest was supposed to be about writing skill, not so much content. I picked this because I thought it would evoke emotion in the reader. With that in mind, I would absolutely love to hear your feedback. Pretty please, and thank you.
Posts
i like what you wrote, but there is a lot of description for everything. if you minimize that, it'll flow easier. since there is a lot of it, it is a slower read. hope this helps....
Thanks, Tammy. That is helpful. I'll admit I may have over-done it a little since I was entering a contest... though descriptions just come pouring out of me sometimes, too, thanks to all the Stephen King I've read ;-)
One worry is that if I take description out of one area, it will only make the other areas seem that much more over-described... editing may not be as easy as I'd hoped.
I'm a descriptive sort of person. I love them and think a book or any writing is more beautiful because of it. As a child it was because of the descriptions that I was able to travel to those new and exciting places. I love when pictures are painted with words, and you did that very, very well. These days -- it's different, folks love action - action - action. Knowing when and how to temper that, to get it just right today is something I'm still trying to perfect. I enjoyed your story and can fully understand how you would no longer enjoy seafood. I'm allergic to it so that solves the problem for me.
Keep writing your beautiful descriptive stories - there's a place for them too!
This excerpt definitely evoked emotions in me and I must say, as much as I love lobster, I'll never eat it quite the same again. As far as description is concerned, you're going to find readers that like a lot of description and others that don't. I guess it depends on the rest of your ms, you want to stay consistent and keep it flowing.
These are just a few thoughts I had as a reader, NOT as an editor in any shape or form. But for nit picky stuff, I'd get rid of the word 'were' and 'heavily' in your opening sentence and write it as "My skinny, salt-covered legs plodded across the weeded yard back ....."
And I don't know why, but the second sentence bothers me a bit. I love the description, truly, but I think it's too much in once sentence. Maybe try breaking it into two sentences, something like... "I pushed past the sea foam green front door with the ridiculous starfish knocker and sprawled out onto the floor of the rental. After a full day of being dragged behind the boat like shark bait, I wanted nothing more than to press my crimson hot cheeks to the cold tile floor." ...ok so that's not perfect, but hopefully you see what I'm getting at.
I really liked your description of her 'sun crisped body' and the 'unsettling lump' in her throat. I also really liked the part where she makes the lobsters 'bark.' I never knew that! And the image of her little head still barking when it hit the water was really sad, but I'm confused, where did the water come from? Did her Dad follow her to the docks? I thought they were all inside the rental.
Overall I think you did a really good job with this, I never thought I could feel sad about a lobster but I do, and I really feel for your mc. Hope this helps. I also participated in Write Club but my entry never got posted. Kinda bummed about that but oh well.
Yolanda & Elise - Thank you both so much for the feedback. While I'll never totally reign in my descriptive nature, a lot of this commentary has helped me see areas for improvement. A friend of mine who's not on Blogger reminded me that description should provide the setting and isn't needed during action scenes. And Elise, your thoughtful critique is very much appreciated. The second sentence could definitely be made better and I didn't even realize that I hadn't properly laid out the fact that the girl had left her father and brother at the dock when she headed back to the beach house. I'm feeling motivated again, so thank you.
As for Write Club, it is a bummer! Maybe you could post your entry on your own blog if you're not saving it for another blog hop?
Okay my critiques:
1) I’m not a fan of passive tense, and I think most readers aren’t either. You start off with “My skinny, salt-covered legs were plodding across the heavily weeded yard back to the small beach house that offered a long awaited blast of cool air-conditioning.” We could make this active by simply removing the verbs “were plodding” to “plod” which also serves to put the sentence into first person, present tense (a thing most people seem to like right now).
2) I also think you should limit your adjectives (not cut down on description). In the same sentence above, I would suggest limiting yourself to ONE adjective to describe a noun. So either choose “skinny” or “salt-covered” to describe legs or break them apart to different areas of the sentence. Take out “heavily” as it’s an adverb that adds nothing to the sentence. Just choose a different way of describing “weeded” or pick up a stronger word that has both meanings in one.
3) Try to put motivation first in a sentence because not doing so is boring to read. Example: I’m shopping for food at the supermarket because my kids are hungry.” Okay, accurate yes but really boring. It would be better: “My kid’s screams forced me to shop for food earlier than I planned.” I mean, there’s only so much you can do with a topic as boring as doing the weekly trip to the grocery store. But I think the second sentence has more tension than the first.
4) So let’s rewrite the opening sentence, putting what I discussed in 1-3 in order and see how it turns out: “The hum of the air-conditioner beckons to me from our beach house, and I plod across the overgrown yard with salt flaking from my skinny legs.”
Do you see what I did? I put the motivation of the cool air (and we don't need to know that air-conditioning is cool because the reader can assume that much). By putting the motivation there, we know that the narrator in just the first sentence is 1) weary 2) extremely hot most likely from the ocean and 3) that the yard is not cared for which implies "recreation" and "seedy rental."
Anyway, what I've tried to point out here is something you could apply to every sentence in this piece. The subject matter is great, emotional, and carries excellent voice. I just think you could choose powerful words over weak ones.
Example: "shark bait" which is two words becomes "chum" one word.
"My father's eyes narrowed in conjunction with his drunken sneer. At his feet lay a red and white cooler and dangling from his outstretched hand twitched my temporary pet of the day."
Becomes: "The pop of the cooler lid draws my eye; my father sneers and grabs my helpless lobster to dangle it from his fingertips."
Anyway, that's my critique. I hope you find it useful. Honestly, your writing is pretty good here, and you could benefit from having an editor who works with you that might be able to bring out what I'm saying in your writing after you've completed a first draft.
Michael, there are few words to express the gratitude I feel for the amount of time and effort you put into your critique. Just with the comments here, I feel as though I've learned so much... I can't imagine that having my entry chosen for Write Club would have benefitted me more.
As for the advice, I get the less is more concept with limiting adjectives. In fact, I think that advice truly suits my writing style because I can stay descriptive, without overdoing it and losing the reader's interest.
The only thing I wouldn't change would be the narrative present tense. I don't know why that's so popular lately, but I can barely stand to read it. Moreover, this excerpt is from a memoir style novel, so I want it to feel as though everything is in the part... because it was.
I did try to write my sci-fi short story in present tense... but during my recent editing, I switched it to past. Maybe I'm old school... I don't know.
Overall, I think you'd make a pretty good editor. Maybe when your series is done, you could lend out your editing services. ;-)
Thanks again...
Hi Tanya---I'm dropping by to say thanks for signing up for the Cheers, Cavanaugh Blogfest! I'm so stoked you're participating... it's going to be SO FUN. :D
Just found your blog, not criticism for the story, but wanted to say I thought it was very cute.
I can't add much to what Michael said, it was excellent advice. I enjoyed your first draft. It was emotional, hit some character development (alcoholic, abusive father?) and let me SEE what you were going through. I've spent many a summer covered in salt and sand and longing for the coolness of the house, so you had me right from the beginning. You're writing something you know, and it shows. Keep at it.
Tina @ Life is Good
http://kmdlifeisgood.blogspot.com/
@Morgan, no thanks needed... I can't wait to participate!
@Charmaine, thank you for saying so. It's nice to know that it didn't make everyone sad :-)
@Tina, I'm glad my imagery worked despite that being a first draft written in about 10 minutes. I have every intention of getting the rest of my Florida childhood down in writing, the good, the bad, and the salty! Thanks for the encouragement!