Young Writers Society

Hello Moon! (Hope that's an okay nickname! ^^)

Hope you're doing well today or tonight, depending on what side of the world you're on, obviously. I'm here to give you a review! Let's get started, now, shall we? Yes we shall! Alrightyo.

The sounds of bodies slapping and slamming against each other, supplemented by discordant pop rhythms drove me out the front door with the housekey buried in the sole of my shoe.

Luckily, I never ran into any trouble, but a few black sedans lingered longer than necessary as they followed my erractic trajectory.

I also made a habit of ordering my own food, since the only remnants of my father's fridge were spoilt mayonaise, a half-empty salsa container, and chocolate liquer that stank of post-recession divorce.

I remember my small hands probing the gold doorknob that seperated me from my father, who was far too busy spooning his equally small Asian wife, watching the same old episodes of 24 with Keifer Sutherland as he munched on stale tortilla chips.

This occured in the same manner, day after day.

On school days I would get up as early as 5:30 am to make the commute from San Jose to my middle school in San Carlos, a more, affluent suburban neighborhood at the time that assured civillians they wouldn't get double crossed on the streets.

A part of me hopes that he is dead, because at least he will have a convienient excuse for missing out on my wedding, the birth of my first child, the birth of his grandchildren.

Man, this hit me hard. I doubt anyone's going to object to your publishing this; writing is one of the best ways to work out these sorts of things. It's brave of you to share this here, for all to see. I'm happy I read it, as it helps me to understand you, and your story. I think that's important, even if we'll never met in person.

But anyways, on with the review. This felt a little more like a prose poem than a short story, which I rather liked. The whole thing was absolutely loaded with beautiful imagery, so that it felt rather well thought out. The way it ended was particularly powerful, as I got the sense that you still had hope that, despite your past, you might have a better future. A few parts I particularly liked:

I hated him most of all because his reflection stared back at me in the mirror: same ugly, hooked nose, same eyes veiled with suspicion and malice.

I would leave for hours, connected in heart to my iPod nano, the scratchy tunes of Jack White filling my ears with nostalgic impulses.

A part of me hopes that he is dead, because at least he will have a convenient excuse for missing out on my wedding, the birth of my first child, the birth of his grandchildren.

My father, on the other hand, took to beating when it suited him, a fact that fired up my mom to something beyond human.

I especially hated the fact that he took to makeup to conceal those vicious eye bags which plagued his youthful mirage.

...dipping under construction signs and bulldozed asphalt around a little red school called Sand Piper Elementary.

This is really good! I loved it. The descriptions and the details of this piece just blew me away. I loved in paragraph 4, the way you said, "spooning his equally small Asian wife... munched on stale tortilla chips". It's such an unusual word, "spooning", but it's food related, and that somehow connects it to the tortilla chips. It's like his wife is a tortilla chip, which is really disturbing. I also love the way you wrote "stale tortilla chips". It's a small detail, but it has such a big impact on the mood of the sentence. There are so many small, specific details in this piece that add so much. However, I didn't feel the theme of this poem was consistent enough. You start off talking about "catatonia". I thought, when I read the first paragraph, that "catatonia" was a theme you were going to be touching on a lot. But after the first couple of sentences, it's never mentioned again. I would suggest either incorporating it into every part of the piece, or leaving it out. By the end, it seems like the theme is all about the father's incompetence. But the first three paragraphs are about the incompetence of both of the parents. Why doesn't the girl hate her mother? Is her mother kinder? If her mother is kinder, why doesn't she stay with her all the time? I would suggest adding a little more explanation there. I would also suggest either leaving out the twin brother, or mentioning him more. You only mention him once, in paragraph 5, and he does not seem to add much to the story. Still, this piece is amazing and I really enjoyed reading it.

This is such a good piece!