Hi Susan,

Is this a story or a chapter (or excerpt) of a longer piece? I’m thinking it’s the latter, and that you’re setting us up for Lori’s adventures as a counselor?

I liked how you used the stained glass as a way to tell us about Lori and what she wanted.

Your descriptions are strong, especially liked the ones at the beginning.

I found several of the sentences rather long and containing many points. Run-ons that got me confused. Like this one: “Later, she would remember those moments as foreshadowing her adventure being a school counselor in Oregon; it was indeed a time when red tape had not yet infiltrated; it did to stand between “needing to do” and manifesting results.”

And this one left me confused: “Dedicated to the five regions of Oregon, multi-levels at Erb Memorial Union towered and dipped, rugged wood beams were wrapped inside and out in verdant green; corridors were labyrinthine and mysterious, lit by the sun through walls of glass and grounded in stone.”

I think you have a character here that is strong with drive and feeling and can be fleshed out to make a compelling story.

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.

So nice to meet you Brenda. I look forward to our journey together, and the words we will share. Congratulations on your new book.

Hi Yvette,

I enjoyed reading this piece. You’ve set up a mystery, and I’m intrigued.

I like how you conveyed the familiar conversation between the two sisters. It works well, and I got a clear sense of who Carrie is from the dialogue.

Overall, I like how this flows, it is fluid and has momentum.

This threw me a bit, I had to read it 3 times before I got it: ““Yeah, yeah. It’s my fault, I know,” Heather rolled her eyes. She sat on one of the plastic bins. “No need to overreact and leave the neighborhood. Everyone got drunk in that party.”

I thought Heather was telling Carrie there was no need for Carrie to overreact and leave the neighborhood. I think it needs to be more clear that she’s saying there was no reason for mom to overreact.

This sentence needs more clarity too: “It broke Carrie’s heart seeing her mother in this state, but her dad had told her to wait and give her time.” Your having the dad talking to two different people in the same sentence without clarifying who he’s talking to. Should be an easy fix.

I’m guessing this is an excerpt from a larger piece, not a story? I was confused at the end – how Heather disappeared when the mother walked in without the mother seeing her. I couldn’t picture how that could happen, unless she’s ghost.But I’m thinking you wanted that ambiguity because it will become clear in another chapter.

Thank you, Yvette. I look forward to reading more of your work.

Hi Katie,

You captured that awful tearing feeling of wanting to go and wanting to stay so well. My heart aches for the narrator. Good job!

I also like how well the mother is painted through her words and actions – really well done.

This paragraph paints a particularly vivid and memorable image:

“She starts dusting the ornaments on top of our old Victorian cast iron mantle piece. It’s cluttered with pictures of our family through the generations. She hides her face from me, but I can see from the reflection in the mirror that her eyes are rimmed red, and she’s fighting back tears.”

I’d read your piece this morning and it stuck with me all day.

TO make the piece read a bit stronger, I’d delete words like “seem” and “like” and “may.” For example:

“Mum picks up the morning paper, and I can just tell she’s flicking through to the jobs section. It’s like she’s in denial.”

It’s clear the narrator knows she is in denial, so how about saying “She’s in denial.”

Or in this sentence: ““You’ll keep an eye out for something here though, won’t you, poppet?”…“Of course,” I say, making a promise I know I probably can’t keep”

It’s clear the narrator knows she won’t keep the promise, so how about “…making a promise I won’t keep.” or “… a promise I know I won’t keep.”

That would tighten up the writing, and be stronger.

Really description and evocative piece. I enjoyed where it took me. Thank you!

Nice to meet you, Debbie. You can show us new Cartelistas the ropes!

Margie

This is so fun, and your tone is perfect.
I love the humor as well, Sunny.

I agree with the feedback about him capitulating too quickly, too.

In the last sentence I question whether the voice is a bit too mature (compared to how mature he sounds in the rest of the piece): “I’m not sure why she’s so excited to get rid of me, but something tells me it involves sleeping in and not having to explain to the school principal why her son’s Octobear destroyed half of the playground.” It seemed a bit inconsistent to my ears. But it may be that it is consistent with the rest of the books. Disregard if that’s the case.:-)

Hi Steph,

I think you did a fantastic job of being beautifully transparent about the narrator’s thoughts and feelings. There are pieces of them that everyone can relate to, and they are described vulnerably and without guile. I love reading this level of vulnerability. It feels very real to me, and I can get into the skin of the narrator immediately because of it.

I like the end of sentence: “As much as I want to excuse myself by pointing my finger at misinformation and the terrible veterinarian I paid hundreds of pesos for, I circle back to myself and my own ignorance.” I might choose a word more specific than terrible (it’s somewhat broad, and I found myself wanting to know what made the vet terrible), but other than that, this sentence caught my heart. How many times we’ve made awful mistakes that could have been blamed on someone else, but the deepest truth is always that we are responsible. You conveyed that well.

The only thing I would suggest considering would be more precision in some of your words. That would make this powerful piece even more powerful. Like I suggested above about the word “terrible.” Same with the last sentence of the 1st paragraph: “bringing back the soft throbbing of guilt and disappointment into my heart.” You use “disappointment” but that seems far to mild a word for what the rest of the piece describes. You could either make the words more specific, or write an example or show us an image that is more precise.

Good piece, and thank you so much!

Hi Dawn!

So nice to meet you. I look forward to reading your words. I’m sure you have a LOT to write about, given all that you do!

Sincerely,

Margie

Hi Lise and Welcome!

I enjoyed reading your introduction, and applaud your courage!

I so agree with the “if not now, when?” approach. When I’m hemming and hawing, I can usually pin myself down by weighing which will be worse: doing what I’m afraid of doing, or forever regretting not doing it.

So glad you are here and I look forward to reading your stories.

Hi Again, Gwen,

You’re welcome for the feedback. I recently read “Wool” and wow oh wow, there was major suspense and terrifying action taking place! I couldn’t read fast enough for my mind to inhale!

I thought of something as I was trying to sleep (and couldn’t) so got up to write to you.

Something to consider: Unfortunately I’ve had a lot of experience with bullies and sadists. And have done a lot of research and studying to try to understand them. Their main goal is to inflict pain on another for the sense of power it gives them. Yes, they want the other to experience pain, but that is not their primary goal. Their sole aim is to inflict pain.

I’m thinking your sentence about the bully wanting Mary to experience pain would be more accurate if it reflected that goal.

Hi Gwen,

This is very exciting.

I agree with Scott: at some of the most crucial, critical moments you’ve added descriptions that, although are beautifully written, are frustrating to me the reader, and certainly would not be relevant to Mary in her desperate flight. When I’m reading in a state of such high tension I don’t want irrelevant description. I want one thing only: to know what is going to happen to poor Mary. The best example of this is here:

“In the early mornings a couple of dozen walkers and joggers took to the trail and on weekends a family or two would get out their bikes and “make the loop,” but today, as on most afternoons during the week, the trail was deserted.”

I would have preferred something like “at this hour of the day the trial was deserted.” Or even shorter, like “… not a person in site.” Something from the perspective of Mary. She wouldn’t be thinking such long, drawn out sentences.

I hope that makes sense.

It’s really a good piece, breathtaking, actually! And now I am very frightened for her! Good job!

• This reply was modified 10 years, 10 months ago by  Margie Deeb.

• This reply was modified 10 years, 10 months ago by  Margie Deeb.