Anthony Simmons trudged through the snow, glancing up on occasion to glare at the Christmas decorations that surrounded him. The blow-up Santas and Rudolphs mocked him with their smiling faces, representing a superficial happiness that he couldn’t bring himself to possess. Everything but him seemed so cheerful and joyous, lit up like the rainbow of Christmas lights that illuminated the street. Elise had been the brightest light, the glowing cherubim atop the tree-but that was gone now. All he had left was a lump of stone for a heart and a bucketful of bittersweet memories.
Everything around him seemed so cold-the snow, the frosty air, the memory of Elise. He glanced down at his chapped hands as he clutched his jacket closed from the biting wind. The knuckles were cracked and red, but the rest of his long, slender hands were as pale as death. The dirt caked under his cracked fingernails sent a sharp pain through his heart, reminding him of Elise and how the one thing she insisted on was clean hands. She wouldn’t let him touch her or kiss her until he had thoroughly scrubbed his hands to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” under her supervision. Satisfied, she would pull him into an embrace and a kiss, leaving his mouth tingling with the warmth of her lips.
The rest of him had fallen into disarray. His clothing was disheveled and his once clean-shaven face was rough and scraggly. His thin lips stretched across his teeth in a permanent frown as if a rubber band was holding them taut. His dirty blonde hair was strewn about his head as if he had just gotten out of bed that morning. But the most changed was his eyes. Those once-content, gray-blue pools had a hunted look to them, like he had searched long for something but never found it.
He involuntarily shivered. Snowflakes had gathered on his eyelashes unnoticed. Swiping them off, he finally reached the outskirts of town. Veering left, he trudged toward the graveyard. He stumbled like a drunken man through the rows of stone sentinels until he reached her grave. Removing his cap, he clunked down on one knee, then the other.
Tears slipped down his frozen cheeks as he gazed at the marker:
Elise Marie Simmons
Beloved Wife of Anthony Simmons
Sunshine on a Cloudy Day
Born June 23, 1978
Died December 23, 2001
Underneath the inscription, in smaller letters read:
Rose Therese Simmons
Daughter of Anthony and Elise
Short-lived but Long-loved
Born May 16, 2001
Died December 23, 2001
“Elise-Rose,” he murmured, absentmindedly reaching out to stroke the cold, gray stone. His fingers gently traced the inscriptions of Elise and Rose’s names as he lost himself in memories, heedless of the soft, white carpet that was forming around him.
He remembered the night before Elise and Rose had been killed. Scraps of reindeer wrapping paper were littered around the Christmas tree as Elise excitedly put the finishing touches on Rose’s new toy piano, complete with farm animal sounds and keys that lit up when they were touched.
Scooting the present under the tree, Elise crawled over and nestled into Anthony’s lap. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting her fingers run through his hair. Sighing happily, he gently massaged her back as she snuggled even closer to him.
Elise glanced up at the present. “You know,” she said, “I suppose we shouldn’t put that under the tree just yet. After all, Santa comes on Christmas Eve, not December 22. Besides, Rose is strangely like her daddy in how she is attracted to bright, obnoxious wrapping paper.” She tickled him under the chin and continued, “And I am never, ever letting you pick out the wrapping paper again. Ever! What will everyone think of it? It’s just…oh, never mind. I guess Target’s elves were a bit dysfunctional the day they invented this wrapping paper.”
“It was on sale,” he groaned. He looked slyly at her. “As if you could do any better.”
“Are you insulting my fashion sense?” she retorted, pouting. “Men!”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “No, Elise. Just fighting fire with fire.” He glanced up the stairs and sighed. “I probably need to go check on Rose.”
Suddenly, Elise scrambled out of Anthony’s lap and scampered to the window. “Look!” she pointed excitedly. “It’s snowing! Rose has never seen snow before! Oh, Tony, let’s wake her up and let her see her first snow!”
Anthony grinned at her child-like joy. “Of course. I’ll get the video camera and our coats. You get Rose. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
When he came back into the living room, a sleepy-eyed rose and a bright-eyed Elise greeted him.
“There you are Tony! I thought you’d never come.” Elise glanced out the window again. “It’s late and I don’t want to keep Rose out too long. I just want her to see her first snow.” She smiled down at Rose and gently tickled her as Anthony stepped around them to open the door.
“After you, my little women,” he teased.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” Elise replied, putting on a mock air of haughtiness. She marched out into the glittering night but stopped as soon as she stepped onto the porch.
“Anthony!” she gasped. “It’s like a winter wonderland!”
The snow sparkled like a thousand glittering diamonds. Multicolored Christmas lights danced on the snow, creating a patchwork of brilliance. Laden with snow, pine trees stood like sentinels watching over the yards.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Like a winter wonderland.”
They stood there silently for a few minutes, taking in the glorious night. Suddenly, Elise remarked, “Poor Rose will freeze to death if we don’t get moving. Turn on the camera, Tony.”
Anthony switched on the video camera and watched Elise brush the snow off the step with her hand. Carefully, sitting down, she cuddled Rose in her arms to keep her warm. She picked up a handful of snow and showed it to Rose, who felt it and let out of cry of surprise at its coldness. Turning towards Anthony, Elise pressed Rose’s face to her own, clasped her hand, and held it up. “Say hi to Daddy,” she cooed, waving Rose’s tiny hand at Anthony. Rose gurgled happily and broke into a toothless grin.
Anthony gazed in silent contentment as Elise and Rose played around in the snow a little more. Finally, with a big yawn, Elise got up and stretched. Anthony switched off the video camera, and putting his arm around Elise’s shoulder, he gently guided her inside.
Just before he shut the door, Elise gazed one last time out at the star-lit night. “If this was my last night on earth,” she murmured, ‘this is how I would want to spend it.” She smiled and looked up into Anthony’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
My heart's pounding. I don't know how you do it. It's amazing. I want to cry, but I will not. Bitterness of death without hope - it's sad. It doesn't have to be - isn't - like that though. There is hope, but not here. It's hidden in creation, it's hidden in small acts of kindess. . . it's hidden in Christmas. Christ-mas.
Hey Wiggy!
Well I promised you I would finish reading it and I did! I loved it! I felt so bad for Anthony. You've written this extremely well. Here is my critique...
Grammar and Spelling
It should be disfuctional.
Should be the.
Should be the.
And those are the only mistakes I could find in grammar and spelling. You wrote it very well! Good job!
Character Development
You developed Anthony really well through the flash backs. I got a real good feel for not only how much he missed his family, but more importantly why he missed them so much. You made the flash backs very innocent and blissful memories.
Another thing I liked was when he blew up at Margie in starbucks, it really showed how on edge he was, and I liked the 'I don't do Christmas' line. Created a big impact.
Other than that you've only had two side characters, Margie and the Cashier, you also portrayed them beautifully for the short period I read about them. Margie seemed like one of those really wonderful ladies that just cares about everyone and sincerely wants to help. The cashier was done well too with the explanation to Margie and how he genuinely felt bad for her, asking her if she was alright.
Quality
As I've already said, you've written the piece beautifully. The story as a whole hooked me from the beginning. His emotions so far have been very real and they just flowed together. Awesomeness!
Conclusion
Amazing piece Wiggy! I want tor ead more!
~Aero
Thanks DD. You are sooo sweet!
That's what you think...
I await eagerly as always the next installment (the desperation scene, no?) and if you find yourself in need of a long crit/suggestions, feel free to e-mail it to me! ^_^
(niah_elil@comcast.net, morn-hyland@hotmail.com, whichever you like... )
It's slow in coming...*sigh* The ever constant school calls...but I'll most defininitely post it when I get the chance! (Plus, then DD can't send me any more haikus!
)
Was that meant to be 'hunted' or 'haunted'?
Hoorah for your use of description:
There wasn't much for me to nit-pick or read twice as you've written this extremly well.
Margie struck me as one of those neighbour's you want to avoid but just can't manage it.
Are you not taking this any further. I want to know what Anthony does and how he is coping.
Then I would have no choice but to believe you. And inform you that no mere immortal weapons can stop me EITHER!!
MUAHAHAHA!!!
What if I told you I was immortal!?! *sniggers*
DD cannot be turned aside by mere mortal means!!!
MUAHAHAHA!
*runs and hides under bed*
You just never give up!
The haikus... they're calling your name, kiddo...
THEMA is a magazine where they pick out a random topic and authors write a story around that theme. The one I chose was Written in Stone, and the last line of my story is going to have a lot to do with it. Plus I'm having the recurring theme of stone like "stone heart", etc. recur throughout my piece. Hey, it may be cliche, but I like it! ^_^ Thanks MR!
I think this would be a great magazine piece.
Did you send it yet? So what's this THEMA anyways?
Thanks Niamh! I'm actually planning on having the next scene being Anthony running out of Starbucks and being like I can't go on anymore! type of thing. Thanks for the suggestions though. When I get computer back, I'll fix them. Thanks so much guys!
Okay, to start, this is still great. I'm glad you updated it. But I have a few suggestions:
Basically, you describe his actions twice, which doesn't flow very well. Perhaps you could say, "Sobs racked his frame as he slowly bent down and laid his cheek against the cold stone, wrapping his arms around as if to strangle it. He (laid this way/was motionless/was immoble. etc.) for a long while before finally unwinding his arms. . ."Maybe this is just me, because I'm a freak about making a little description go a long way (though it doesn't always work in my stories) so this stuck out to me:
Again, this might be me, but the transition from the story focusing solely on Anthony and then to Marge was a little sudden, and could perhaps be improved so it will read more smoothly. As to how you should do this, I don't have great suggestions, but I'll try to get the idea across. (Sometimes I feel like I don't speak English.) Maybe after this scene: Marge could walk away with her feelings hurt, and Anthony, already in a saddened mood, could then feel guilty for yelling at her or something, to still stay involved with the main character. Then, he could overhear the waiter explaining to Marge what happened, and you can imagine what happens from there--because I can't--I'm not the writer.
Dream Deep already touched on the dialogue. Anthony's was great, Marge's was mostly okay, though her cheerfullness could be slightly overbearing and overdone in some spots, which is understandable because characters with exaggerated characteristics are harder to write than a soft-spoken person. I've run into that before with my own story. The waiter could of course, use some work, but I'm sure a revision will perfect these minor errors.
I hope this was helpful, and I can't wait to see where you take this story. Cheers!
Muahaha. And haikus probably don't help the situation... ^_~
Thanks Dreamy! Yeah, when I looked it over again I realize I did do some major rushing. I'm just not sure whether to just finish it and then edit, or edit now and finish later. My inner critic tells me to edit, but my imagination tells me to write. Help!
Muahahaha. Ah, but you ruined my fun - no more haikus? Lol, you need to set a deadline for the next installment, that way I can harangue you about going over it.
All right... while this read pretty nicely (of course ^_~) some areas of it seem to be a little forced. Observe.
Dialogue in the Scene:
Anthony's dialogue is pretty good, it's the other characters' that could use a second glance... Here, for instance-
Ahh, maybe not 'Goodness knows'... I see that you're trying to get across her cheerful demeanor but by this point I've already gotten that. It doesn't seem to fit, rather forced. Maybe... 'Honestly'? 'In all seriousness'? Or even getting rid or it completely? - "Who are they? I thought he lived alone!"...
Here... it has the flavor of a passage where the reader no longer hears the character speaking, they hear the author speaking. The author wants to explain something, it is clear, and doing it through characters like this is a bit tricky... Here, imagine that you were actually in a Starbucks, listening to this conversation. Anthony talks well, Marge talks well, but the waiter doesn't. A passage of this length, in this style, makes it seem out of character - you may want to consider shortening it and/or changing the style. ^_~
This dialogue was really good. Like, prompts-jealousy-in-Dreamy good. ^_~ It goes very well with Marge's character. But one note - as this paragraph does involve Marge's character, I can't really see her, as you've potrayed her, using a word like 'triggered' in casual comverstaion. It doesn't seem to fit. Maybe 'brought about'? 'brought back'?
Good job, though, with Anthony - his lines were very good. ^_^
Action in the Scene:
On the whole it's very well done, but I'm going to be just a little bit nit-picky with the interest of trying to help ya out. ^_~ Some of the action in here seems a little too quick...
In the first paragraph of the quote, maybe not 'ambled'. It makes him seem heavy, clumsy... and perhaps you'd like to add some emotion in there. As it is, it's sort of distant - which is perfectly allright if that's what you're going for, but if it's not... maybe add in what he felt at that particular point? Add in some move, some gesture that hints at his current turmoil? Though you explained it both in the previous scene and in the beginning of this one, I think a subtle mention would add...
In Paragraph 2, wonderfully done except for the very last line: ...'that washed away the dead feeling he got every time...' Hehe, it feels like a pun. Which I'm sure was not intentional. Which you might want to glance at. ^_~
Here...:
And here...:
... you have very good action which goes well with both the feel and the individual characters. Very good job on that, Wiggy.
Over-all, I like the feel of it. It could be a bit more polished, maybe lengthened and dramatized a bit, but as a first draft, I really think you can do a lot with this! ^_~
~Dreamy
Allright then.
Lol, you're lucky. I shall return momentarily to crit. ^_^
All right DD-you can stop sending me haikus.
A small pile of snow from a branch plopped down on Anthony’s neck, jolting him back to the present. He abruptly drew his hand away from the stone as if a hot iron had touched it.
“Oh, Elise,” he whispered. “One more Christmas with you. One more with you and Rose. We-we only had one Christmas together. One. And Rose-she-she never even had a Christmas! Elise-Elise.” Sobs racked his frame as he slowly bent down and laid his cheek against the cold stone, wrapping his arms around it as if to strangle it.
He laid like that, cheek against stone, for he longest time. Finally, he unwound his arms and slowly drew himself up. Gazing one last time at the grave, he turned and ambled out of the graveyard back toward town.
His boots scuffed against the dirty snow as he walked down the sidewalk toward Starbucks. He desperately needed some caffeine to wake him up. The coffee was like a warm remedy that washed away the dead feeling he got every time he visited their graves.
A few minutes later, he reached the shop. A warm whiff of mocha greeted him as he wiped his feet on the mat just inside the door.
“Anthony Simmons!” a cheery voice called out. “How good to see you! Been out Christmas shopping?”
Anthony looked up. “Oh, hey Marge,” he mumbled, plopping down into the nearest booth and burying his head in the menu. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, and the last thing he wanted to do was hold a conversation with his next-door neighbor, Margie Andrews.
Margie was a plump, kindly woman in her early 50s. Her outgoing, cheerful personality often drew people to her, but today Anthony just couldn’t converse with that barrel of happiness. She had just moved into his neighborhood that October and didn’t yet know about Elise and Rose. She couldn’t possibly understand his gloomy demeanor today.
Margie sauntered over to his booth. Placing a finger on his chin, she tilted it upwards and replied, “Ah, but you haven’t answered my question yet, Anthony! Have you been out Christmas shopping, getting ready for he big day?” Her jowls quivered merrily as she nudged him and winked.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “No, Margie. Not today,” he said absentmindedly, running his fingers through his messy hair. “Not today.”
“You men,” she chuckled. “Never doing things until the last minute.” She winked at him again. “I insist that you come with me to the mall. I’ll personally help you pick out presents! I know some stores where they have great sales going on right now. Order your coffee and then we can go!” She grinned and sat down next to him.
“No, thank you, Marge. Not today. It’s just-not a good time,” he said, more to himself than to her, gritting his teeth.
“But Anthony, just for a little while-“
“Look!” he bellowed, suddenly standing up. Margie let out a little squeal and scrambled out of the chair.
“Look,” he continued more quietly. “I said no. Not today.” He stumbled out of the booth and towards the door. Whirling around once more, he stalked back toward her. “And besides,” he growled, “I-don’t-do-Christmas.” He spun around and walked quickly out of Starbucks.
Wide-eyed, Margie sat down immediately. “Oh,” she whimpered. “Oh!”
A curly, black-haired worker behind the cash register hurriedly shut the drawer on the machine and rushed over to Margie.
“Are you all right, m’am?” he inquired kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Lips trembling, she looked up and replied, “Th-thank you. I’m fine.” She brushed herself off and stood up. “Yes, I’m fine,” she repeated, this time in a firmer tone of voice.
Glancing up at the door, she turned back toward the worker. “But-why? I just wanted to know if he wanted to go Christmas shopping! And not celebrating Christmas! That’s just-“
“Don’t you know?” he interrupted.
“Know what?”
“About his family. About Elise and Rose.”
“Who are they? Goodness knows, I thought he lived alone!”
“He does-now.” The worker sighed. “Elise was his wife and Rose was his six-month old daughter. Five years ago, an ice storm hit our town as they were driving to go Christmas shopping. He skidded on a patch of ice and lost control of the wheel. The car flipped over and Elise and Rose were-were pinned under it. He walked away with a few cuts and bruises. I was only twelve when it happened, but I remember their funeral really well. My uncle even cried when he was saying the final blessing.”
Stepping behind the counter, the worker grabbed a rag and started wiping left over rings of coffee away off the countertop. “He’s never stopped blaming himself.” Pausing, he looked up at Margie. “My uncle is the pastor of the church his family used to attend. He’s tried talking to Anthon and helping him numerous times, but he just won’t listen. He hasn’t been to church since the funeral, and he won’t come back.” Shaking his head and sighing, the worker resumed the work behind the counter.
Margie slowly eased herself onto a stool, cupping her hand and placing it on her chin. “How awful,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And to think I suggested…oh how stupid I was! Christmas shopping of course must have triggered those memories…” She bit her lip and clenched her plump fingers together so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
Starbucks was wrapped in silence for a few interminable minutes. The worker tossed the rag back in the sink and said, “M’am, all I can suggest that you do is pray. That’s all my uncle says we can do. God will have to take care of the rest.”
Margie stood up and half-heartedly smiled at him. “Thank you, young man,” she replied. “Your uncle is a very wise person.” Patting him on the shoulder she turned and ambled absentmindedly out of the shop.
__________________
I don't know if I like this section as much. I'm trying to make Anthony show emotion a little more and be fleshed out. Does anyone have any suggestions? I think I did better on the dialogue this time (my mom said I did good both times-but aren't mothers always like that? lol), but I don't know if I need to elaborate more on this scene. Any suggestions would be absolutely fantastic. If you can, a crit would be awesome! Thanks guys!
Tune in next time for the next installment of Inscription of Love! ^_~
Woot woot! DD can't send me haikus anymore! Woot woot!
It should be posted tomorrow. I wrote the scene in Starbucks where you learn of how Elise and Rose died. Thanks to all of these crits, the first part that has been been posted will be undergoing some major editing.
You guys rock!
And DD, you won't be able to send me obscure haikus anymore! *cheers*
Thanks again Jess. See ya round!
Wiggy
*falls on floor laughing*
Oh, there's always improvement, which is why I'll never be satofied with my own work. Unfortunately, it takes someone else's POV to suggest the improvement, believe me, I know.
Don't rush by any means too with critiquing. I, myself have my own fair share of to sort through, lol, but when you get the chance, I'd love the suggestions. So, thank you for taking the time.
I'm being humble, but I'm happy that the critique will help you out, and I look foreward reading any adjustments in the future.
Best wishes,
Jess
Wooooow. Fishr, you have just become my new best friend! Majorly! OMG I've never had a crit that....good! I didn't realize there could be so much improvement! Wow wow wow....thank you thank you thank you! And whenever you get the chance...don't rush it! I can see I've got enough to work on right now! OMG that was amaaaazing! *hugs fishr reeeeally tightly and jumps up and down with excitement at getting that long of a crit*
And as for Bound for Glory, I'll prolly print it out and then crit it. We're havng a lot of construction done on our house, so I may not get it up today (I also have book club tonight), but I'll do my best. Awesome, awesome job. Thank you sooooo much!
And as for stabbing you with a fork? Nah-I'll stab myself with a fork for all the corrections I need to work on!
Thanks again! *huggles again*
Part one will be sentence structure, spelling and grammar. Part two will about character development.
Part One
You have two choices here, and it's one or the other. Both 'glancing' and 'glaring' signify a different approach of how a person sees something. When a person glances, it's usually brief but when a person glares, it's fixed and intense, which can also be eerie depending on the person. I've had friends who claim when I'm off 'in my own world,' I develop an intense but vacant stare, and my head is usually straight, expressionless and oblivious to everyone around me. The other glare I do, is on purpose, and revolves around when I'm perturbed or angry. I've caught myself staring intently at a person, and if you excuse the cliché, my vision burns into theirs. Along with this type of glare, I'm frowning or sulking, and my eyebrows are furrowing. Other body postures are present but those are my facial features with my moods. So, in reality, there are two types of 'glares' I'm aware of - one, the vacant and two, the purposely fixed expression of a glare.
Having 'glancing' and 'glare' in the same sentence is confusing, and is cluttering up the sentence, not much, but enough where it was distracting for the reader. If I were Anthony, and I was mourning, the very least I would do is glare at an object that would trigger heartache. I would probably be apprehensive and only glance at the decorations on occasion.
You're probably already aware, but for reference, here you go; taken from dictionary.com:
glare – v.
1. To stare fixedly and angrily.
2. To shine intensely and blindingly: A hot sun glared down on the desert.
3. To be conspicuous; stand out obtrusively: The headline glared from the page.
glance – v.
1. To direct the gaze briefly
I personally would negate (rule out) 'glare' and just use 'glancing' as it seems to fit better with Anthony's plight.
After 'cold,' I think a semicolon would work better and after 'air,' put the word 'and' after it to make the sentence run smoother.
For the first sentence, I personally don't recall a person having long or slender hands, and I People Watch as a hobby. Maybe someone may have large or wide hands, but long? The first image I received was Anthony's fingers were spindly and his hand was narrow; bony almost, but that was just the impression I was under when I read the first sentence, and with 'pale' and 'death' intermixing, it improved my first impression with his narrow hands. I'm assuming bony and narrow hands were not your intension, so maybe try rewording. I would give you examples but I actually have no idea how Anthony is suppose to look, and so I'm afraid to interfere with your mental image. If anything though, a minor suggestion; most men's hands are more broad, and their fingers are more pronounced unlike a woman's'.
Now, the main reason for quoting the paragraph is that I'm encountering a lot of over-description in your paragraphs, which is something I have to overcome myself. However, there are many solutions to achieve Anthony's appearance, without dumping information in our laps. Remember the cardinal rule, show and don't tell.
Alright, let's examine the second sentence, shall we?
A waft of a chilling breeze came, and stirred Anthony's clothes. He wrapped his rags of clothing tightly around him, and Anthony scolded himself bitterly that he had allowed his clothes to become disheveled. Anthony reached, and cringed when he felt the oily strands of his blond hair. Nonetheless, he combed back his locks, and scolded himself again for letting his hair develop into disarray.
This was only a rough example, but my intension was providing a visual example. If you look at mine, I don't directly mention Anthony's hair is dirty, nor do I mention right away that his clothing is disheveled. Instead, I attempt to bring the reader into Anthony's plight by using natural elements, and capitalizing on the bitterness he has to be experiencing with the memory of his wife.
Also, instead of telling the reader that Anthony hasn't shaven in a while, try something along the lines such as this:
The cold air caused the atmosphere to become dry by absorbing the moisture from the air, and eventually Anthony fell victim to Mother Nature. His cheek itched annoyingly, and instead of ignoring the sensation further, Anthony brought an index finger to his cheekbone and scratched the stubs of facial hair around his chin. It has been weeks since Anthony shaved, and now it was beginning to show, he realized. His chin was coarse now.
Again, another rough example that I just thought of the top of my head but instead of saying, 'his once face was rough and scraggly,' I forced Anthony to move a finger, and showed the reader that it has been a while since he last shaved. Also, since I'm under the impression, he is outdoors, I'm using natural elements in my favor to show Anthony's appearance. Pretty cool, huh? I think writers overlook the seasons, and become fixated on description with a character.
In Bound for Glory, when I was writing the Boston Massacre, the day was unbelievably freezing according to historical records. So, knowing full well what it's like to be bitter cold, I used the environment to show how my character was coping with the winter, and his feelings towards the events happening.
Another minor example how I used my environment to show my character:
In this paragraph, I briefly mention 'Nature's fiercest elements' but I describe a 'stinging sensation, and the locations of that numbness, but without directly mentioning it, you may or may not sense this character's dilemma. However, I showed fear gripped movement because of the possibility of being killed outweighed this character's desire to aid his mother.
So, my point with all the examples is show readers; draw them into a character's plight without dumping information.
This sentence confused me, especially with the stretching of lips across; I originally thought Anthony was smiling, and I find out that it a frown. I think the word 'stretching' threw me off because when I stretch an object, it's usually pulled into a straight line. A frown is, as you know, is when lips curve downward. Though I love the imagery, I think 'stretching' is conflicting with the frown.
Maybe, 'His thin lips were pulled in a permanent frown, as if a rubber band held them taut.'
Heh, and now the grammar with this sentence. After 'frown,' put a comma after it, and instead of 'holding' use 'held' since this story is past tense.
Hmm… If Anthony is deep in thought, which is probably the case, I still find it unrealistic that he wouldn't have noticed snowflakes on his eyelashes. One, well… snow is cold, and while it melted I assume the traces of water would irritate his eyelashes, forcing Anthony to brush the drops away.
Remember how your body reacts to certain situations, and incorporate them into the character.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with this sentence but I do have a minor nit-pick, and I hope you don't mind my suggestion. Instead of 'graveyard,' why not use cemetery? I'm assuming Anthony is in his thirties at least. Would an adult use the term, 'graveyard?' It might be something to ponder.
Great imagery! Absolutely awesome! I could see a row of gray headstones filing in different locations around Anthony, and then he drops to his knees to find his wife's stone. I could see the grief and uncertainly upon his face, so kudos to you by bringing into the cemetery with Anthony.
Again, there is nothing grammatically wrong with this sentence but being the opinionated person that I am, I have a few suggestions.
Before I move into those suggestions, would Anthony cry immediately by looking at the stone or would his memories engulf him first? I think to add flavor to this scenario, describe Anthony's memories, and then when he's coherent again, then put 'Tears slipped down his frozen cheeks…'
By this tactic, (if you want to call it that) readers will learn about Anthony and his family, right up until his wife and daughter's fate, and then adding 'the sadness factor' will have more of a significance, rather then having Anthony cry immediately.
Now, the suggestions, or rather my opinions: All people mourn differently, this is true, but not every person cries, unless that's their trait. What I'm getting at is, rather then jumping into the past immediately after Anthony sheds tears, I'd be very curious to know what is going through his mind, as soon as Anthony drops to his knees. To do this however, you might have to use the First Person point of view, but don't hold back. He obviously isn't handling a four year death to his family lightly, and I think if you show us his first thoughts about the headstone, before jumping to the memories, it will add to Anthony's character.
Although, I'm a minor hypercritic, I do have character that cries quite a bit but I show what's going through that char's mind through dialogue and body postures, since my POV is in the First Person through a boy's eyes. To further on this character of mine, he has had a difficult past, like Anthony, but I don't always jump straight to tears. Instead, I show how this character reacts, and if tears come, so be it, but it's never forced by me; it just happens.
Another example from one of my stories (since I'm a visual learner and that's how I teach; visually), shows how this same character of mine reacts accordingly to death:
As you can see, this character is having some difficulty talking but with this character's memory, what do you think he is feeling; remembering an execution that this character was responsible for? *nods* Yes, whatever you thought was probably the same going through his mind right before this character slammed down the weapon; another example of show, don't tell but hopefully you get a glimpse into this char's mind. Notice too, I waited until after the memory, and then the character admits not only is he close to crying, he thinks of himself as a murderer.
Instead of having Anthony cry right away, show us what's first going through his mind when he's looking at the headstone, and then shift to the cause of death.
I apologize if this inscription has/or had significant value to you personally, but for someone who observes cemeteries as a hobby, the bolded part seems wish-washy. It just doesn't bring home how special Elise was to Anthony. The bolded area also seems a bit cliché too.
The headstones I've observed were all from the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century, so of course their views on death were much more vivid then what we Americans display today. It's actually pretty mind-boggling what an Eighteen Century person felt about death but anyway, I'm going off track.
Instead of 'Sunshine on a Cloudy Day,' here’s a few suggestions:
-Angel from Heaven, go rest
-My Guardian Angel
-I miss you, (name here)
-From the Heaven, to the stars, She watches
-May your travels lead you into Grace
-Remember me
-Her husband is patiently waiting…
-When treading upon me, remember my family,
in which I left behind
Those are examples, but they are all related to engravings I've observed. Not precise engravings, however, but very similar while I tweaked them. (I'm a little eccentric with cemeteries, and I believe stealing an inscription to be used for my own personal benefit is misguided and wrong, but feel free to use my examples if you want. They were changed).
I actually like the 'short-lived' and 'long-loved' expression. It fits her headstone and character perfectly.
I'm assuming if Anthony Rose's DOB and DOD is under Elise's, headstone, the two were buried together? Just wondering.
I think mutter would suite this situation better. A person muttering means they're talking softly or in a near whisper. In this same paragraph though, is Anthony still crying or has he stopped? We're missing details as readers.
As for the memory, I'm afraid I've run out of time, and so I won't be able to finish Part One. Part Two, I'm sure you'll stab me with a fork, but there's a lot that can be done with the character development. Right now, I'll briefly mention that the story, to me, is emotionless, and its not persuading me to feel remorse for Anthony. Also, the story seems forced, meaning it appears that Anthony is forcing his emotions upon us, which makes the reader, (me), resist. I'm sure this wasn't your goal and you want readers to feel a sense of sadness for Anthony but as they say, time is against me.
I will finish up, but I'm not sure when I'll find the free time this or next week, and I apologize. Till then, I hope this critique will help, and I really hope you get published.
Like I mentioned, I enjoyed myself reading, and I'm curious about the tragedy. Keep working hard.
Thanks guys! I look forward to it fishr.
Niamh-I'll work on the phrases. Is there any other ones that come to mind?
This is a very good story, with perfect imagery, and even better portrayal of Anthony's emotions. But you asked for a critique of your dialogue, and the only comment I can make, is that a few of the things said are a bit hackneyed, and your story is so good that little imperfections like this should be taken out. An example would be:
It's an overused comment to describe what winter looks like. You're a very talented writer and therefore have the capability to come up with your own description.Overall, very beautiful, though tragic. I'll be sure to read more.
Hiya Wiggy!
Well, I read all the way to the end, and for a picky reader who will get bored quickly, I was not. I enjoyed myself, and I have many ideas and opinions to help improve or 'make the story stronger.' Be prepared for a long editing job.
If I can find the time tomorrow, I'll get to it. Best of luck with getting published. That's all of our goals.
Does anyone know if this story would be good for the magazine THEMA? That's the magazine I'm submitting it to, and if anyone's ever read it before, could they give me maybe some tips on the writing style that was in there? That'd be great, thanks! (And crist are always welcome, even though I've had great ones so far!
)
Wow guys! Thanks so much for all your help! I'm definitely going to use those crits. Expect more soon!
Wiggy
You seem to be a very talented writer! You managed to compose a piece of writing that leaves the writer neither bored nor confused- a great accomplishment (I've never succeeded in such a task).
Just a thought, but if it were a superficial happiness, he wouldn't really posess it so much as he'd display it.
Excellent word choice, but Cherubim is plural. It would be Cherub.
Lump of stone is a little conventional. You may want to come up with a clever alternative that is all your own. Most readers have seen the "heart of stone" bit so often, they just pass over it- so the phrase does nothing for effect.
Using seemed too often is unwise if you want to impact your readers with an air of loneliness and bitterness. Don't be afraid to say "Everything around him was so cold..."
What do you mean by the "yankee doodle" bit? An explanation is probably due, if only a brief one.
This phrase makes it seem like the hands, which were chapped and dirty, were his only body parts not to fall into disarry.
I just really like this line. Intense
Speaking of intensity, gazed is a very casual word. The grave stone, at this moment, probably has all of his attention.
He wouldn't really be attacking her fashion sense, I actually got the impression Anthony was calling his wife frugal.
You already used the sentinal comparison earlier, here:
You may want to reconsider that piece of description
This is an unrealistic speech, considering it is Elise's last night alive. You may want to change that. You could still imply that she felt a strange kind of contentment: arranged in a subtle, not obvious way, it could be very good stuff.
All in all this piece is impressive. If you keep editing, eliminate little (minor!) flaws, your writing will be very affecting and accurate. Great work!
Just some comments I noted while I was reading:
Everything but him seemed so cheerful and joyous, lit up like the rainbow of Christmas lights...
I just wanted to say that I liked your descriptions of the Christmas decorations. Very nice.
Everything around him seemed so cold...
This part is a little blunt. When you compare everything with his cold feelings, having the "memory of Elise" in there seems a little... forced. Maybe try to work it in a little more naturally.
But the most changed was his eyes.
This sentence was really awkward. Try to make it sound a little smoother.
He remembered the night before Elise and Rose had been killed.
Maybe, instead of saying this, you could imply it in the flashback. It would let the reader think a little more as to what is going on.
Elise glanced up at the present. “You know,” she said...
I'd have to agree with Dream Deep on the interaction. It seemed to distract from the dialogue. The dialogue is already playful, so the character interaction seemed a little out of place and excessive.
I also agree about the very end. The comment Elise makes seems a little too obvious. It didn't seem like it actually belonged, but was put there to be ominous.
Anyway, I think this is pretty good so far. Try working on making things seem a little smoother, but overall this is good. I hope you post more. Good luck!
I loved this! You had a lot of good imagery in there, it's like I was seeing everything right in front of me. Sorry I don't have anything useful to say, but I just wanted to tell you I thought it was well written.
Dreamy, you just made my day! Thanks-I'll use your suggestions. You rock!
Allright Wiggy, as a I already critted the first part, I just take a look at part two for you here... ^_^
Here, I wouldn't write 'murmur'.. murmur sounds sort, gentle, happy. Like you'd murmur 'i love you' in someone's ear or a mother murmurs to her baby... You wanna get across how miserable and broken this guy is, so maybe not murmured? Whispered? Breathed? And perhaps not 'heedless of the soft, white carpeting that was forming around him' - confusing. I thought at first you were refering to his memory, in his house he had white carpeting and the flashback was taking over at this point, but then I thought "What if I'm reading way too much into this? What if she's talking about the snow?" So lol, you may want to think about clarifying - it may just be my slow mind, but I think it would read nicer if you made it a little clearer what you meant... ^_~
Very nice image here. Congrats - great description. ^_^
I love Elise's reaction, and her dialogue at this point. Really, the only thing I could nitpick in this whole paragraph is not in the dialogue - it's in the description. The tickled under the chin bit doesn't seem to work... a little out of place, it would appear. I think you may want a different interaction there, if you do indeed feel the need to break up the dialogue with the interaction at all...
Nice here... motherly love meets awe ^_^ Tis a pretty picture. And the dialogue that runs up to it flows very nicely.
Though I know this line is supposed to be pointed, it seems a little too blatent, a little contrived. Think about Elise. Think about your character in that situation. Say you were Elise. Would you say that? I don't really know... It's just that knowing as the reader does know by this point that this IS Elise's last night, it seems a little... forced... unnatural maybe.
I don't know - it's very light suggestion. But I hoped these comments helped Wiggy. I really like this and I want to see it succeed. ^_~ Good luck with this - I look forward to reading more. ^_^
~Dreamy
Wow MH-thanks for that crit! There's way more to come, don't worry. I'm working on this story for a magazine called THEMA and I want to get as many crits as possible for grammar, etc. Thanks again for all your help! TTYL!
Uh oh. Idunno if all my helpful coding works on YWS Dark. Lemme switch to Light and see if everything's there.
EDIT: Woo. Thank God. If you look at my comment with YWS Light you can see the critique. Hope it helps. Once again, nice piece.
-MH
Well, nice story. The transition from past to present was foggy, and the ending a bit adrupt, but it was areally nice story. Kinda sad. Anyways, sorry I didn't change much near the ending, the story must've picked up near the end. Nice work, WL.
Yes, yes...my long awaited story is here
. DD has been pestering me to post it, so I did. I personally don't think it's that great (compared to all the other superior writers on here), especially the dialogue, but I'm rather attached to the story. If anyone could especially crit on the dialogue, that would be great. I want to make sure that that is strong.
Have at it!