The Mess

A delicate piece. Part of the charm for me is not always knowing exactly what you mean. I sometimes write that way myself, in little secrets and allusions. There are a few things that need cleaning up sentence structure and grammatically but I am not the strongest in that area and there are some in this class who are very good at editing so I will say it is a very nice piece of hints and whispers and sweetness.

I like the first line. I’ve always been told it has to grab you, and this one compels you to read further. The bird and references to Carnegie Hall are great. The one thing I’d like to see is a hint of motive. I get that it was probably the mother who cracked the kid over the head, but there’s no indication or hint that the mother is off-base in any way. Also, questioning “who ever heard of telecommuting” almost begs for a time-stamp somewhere, as that’s pretty common in cites now.
I know that 750 is a pretty tight restriction, but I think you can tweak this a bit if its a stand alone. That’s almost the trick isn’t it? Can we make en tire story in 750 words? If we can just think how great a long story would be, with multiple 750 sections!
Well done. Hope there’ll be more.

Hi Lee,

I loved the second paragraph, with Carnegie swooping over the protagonist. It’s so vivid, and the seven wing flaps add a delightful specificity. You brought me right into the scene and drew me forward.

I also love the imagery “I came home, took off my street clothes and wrapped myself in my pink blanket, curling up on the extra wide plush chair in my bedroom.” Once again, I can see this girl, who is suffering from migraines.

I gather that you are trying to tell about something which really happened to you. You’re speaking as an adult about an important (life-changing?) event in the past, sparing us many of the details, and yet trying to convey the disorientation you felt, between being sick, being knocked out, and losing the pet bird. This may be too large an event and reaction to describe in 750 words, but, if you want you could get more of it in by leaving out extraneous details. We don’t need to know that your mother is unconventional, for example. Perhaps we also don’t need to know that you went to the doctor’s that morning, only that you’re middle-school age, home alone with a migraine, and asleep.
Then, as you mentioned to Scoot, you have to be more explicit that you were raped, instead of hinting. I had no idea what the extra evidence was. I wasn’t even sure that a stranger had come into the house. Don’t shy away from giving us the gory details.

I couldn’t understand this phrase:
“My blanket seemed to have been released as if held tightly, just above my head.” Held by who? released by who? On the floor or hanging in the air?

Nice draft. What a difficult event to write about! Bravo for even trying!
Why held tightly? By whom?
This phrase

I love the fact that you definitely have a voice: a clear, natural voice with personality. The true sign of a writer.

I love Carnegie as a vehicle, a necklace, to hold the story together. Also, as a reminder that life is sweet, although bad, frightening things can happen.

My only criticism is that you are holding what actually happened too close to the breast. Why was she hit over the head? Was it her mother who did it? Was there a robbery? I often have the same problem in my writing: I can be too subtle, assuming the reader gets it.

I just read your last post: I had no idea there had been a rape. And I guess that sums up my criticism.

But easy to fix. And lovely tone and voice and reality.

Michael

Thank you for stepping out. I, too, was raped at age 7. My description of my incident will be in my novel I am working on now. For our friendship I feel a deep bond and wish you the very best in your career and life.

Dear Lee,

I just read your story and all the comments and and very moved. I absolutely love your use of Carnegie the bird. Such a delicate and beautiful image, motif, and soul, that little bird is.

And I read your response in a post: “The final point that I didn’t realize until now was that my innocence flew away with Carnegie.”

Wow. That is really fun image and metaphor worth pursuing. Very real, very poetic, evocative.

I don’t have anything else to add in the way of feedback, everyone has said it so well. And you already understand that revealing more will make this speak to more people on deeper levels.

You and Juanita are not alone in writing about rape. It is terrifying, and yet, so very necessary. I admire the courage – your courage – it took to write and speak of this on the first lesson in the course! I am standing up for you, metaphorically applauding.

Thank you for your vulnerability. It makes me feel less alone and safe. I feel more connected to you, and that I want to get to know you better because of it. It also inspires me to be more vulnerable.

I am struck and humbled by your willingness to share this deep and lasting wound. Your first sentence about it being stunningly easy to forget—well I don’t believe that. You went from cuddling in a pink blanket on a soft chair to crying, holding shards of glass, your blood and some unknown wine “messing up” your room, never to be cleaned up. I take it that therapists took advantage of you in later life. All of this is powerful, the worse for your lack of understanding, and the sweetness of your personality.

There were brilliant descriptive phrases in your short piece. The bird, the name of the bird, the name of the cage door left open and the fact that the bird flew and never returned-all of that is gut wrenching for it is a parody of your own lost innocence.Indeed you never returned either. I like the idea of the irony of staying home because of a headache.

This needs rewriting. In fact, with the over and over of the telling, perhaps the anger will come. I didn’t hear that in your piece-only the hint of others who did not clean up the mess, and the confusion. Your mother left the door open. Was that anger you were feeling at that? What happened when she came home? So much more to write. You have engaged all of us in your story.Perhaps together we will at last clean up the mess.

I thought I commented on this before, but I must have been sidetracked on the way.

Your opening line is fantastic. It hangs a huge question mark in the reader’s mind, and you have to read on to find out more. My only problem with the piece is that, upon reaching the end, I still had that question mark hung in my mind. Once I read the comments, I realized your meaning.

Thank you for your bravery in sharing this story. My guess is that you’re still (and always will be) processing this experience and that is why it’s a bit unclear upon retelling. That’s the protective nature of the psyche. Pieces come and pieces go. Words have such wings in trials such as these.

I, too, loved Carnegie and how you thread the bird throughout the story. And “Carnegie Hall”? So clever!

Thanks so much for sharing, Lee!

What can I add? I agree with the praise and the criticism that came before. I realized that it wasn’t her mother who had hit her, I thought it was a burglar and was confused as to his having cleaned up the mess. And I gather that she/you doesn’t really remember because she was knocked out before the ordeal.

Still, I think that you displayed courage in fighting your demons and having come through as a strong and caring individual despite it all. More strength to you.