Greetings! I'm stopping by to review "Moving - and other Horror Stories"
Happily I stumbled across your article and read it with some interest.
Your writing is engaging and draws the reader in. Anecdotal story telling is one of my favorite reads. While there isn't any outright humor (how can moving be funny?) there is a warmth to your words, even as you describe some of the pitfalls to hiring a moving company.
I also found your article to have some really good suggestions which I will file away in my brain. I have said for years that I will never again move without hiring a moving company. I just now know, thanks for your article, that they best do door-to-door. Eighteen missing boxes? No way!
I did find your reference to Satan and Job intriguing, and you did tidy it up with another mention at the end, but I am also wondering whether you could tie in more references in between? Might not be necessary, but the thought did occur.
In summary, I would recommend anyone contemplating a move to read this informative article. Well done.
This poem "Accidental Touches" tells the story of a young child who wants to enjoy the things their father does. Namely, a cup of coffee. A hot cup of coffee.
As children are wont to do, the child just pulls the cup closer and in so doing, upends the hot liquid on both themselves and their father.
What happens next is the (probably painful) experience of being rushed to the doctor. But all is well that ends well, because the child, now grown, can recall the experience as one of being taken care of when disaster strikes.
The poem is well written. In donning my editing cap, I do have a few suggestions:
1. In both the second and third paragraph, I believe the word 'setting' should instead be 'sitting.'
2. "soaked through may pajamas and burned my skin." "May" should instead be "my."
3. "when he exposed the my wound to light." Remove the word "my" so that it reads "when he exposed the wound to light." Or, you could remove the word "the" so that it reads "when he exposed my wound to the light."
4. Lastly, I would put a paragraph break before the last "I remember."
Greetings! I'm stopping by to review "An Unexpected Swim."
This has all the makings of a great story. A robbery! Suspense! A fairly likeable character (even though we don't know a lot about him).
Turns out he's an ex con, our fellow. He thinks he knows it all and gets his comeuppance quite handily (if not a mite brutally.)
This reader is assuming that Ehrich Weiss' employee Wilton Baxter is guarding some quite precious jewels to mete out a punishment like this. Or the store owner is just done. DONE.
Donning my editing cap, I don't note any major problems in the flow of your story. No spelling errors noted.
P.S. I'm thinking old Wilton is a bit of a sadist...
Greetings! I'm stopping by with a review for your entry "The Orchid Bride."
I enjoyed the story as a whole. It's a magnifying glass on a small period of time between a young village girl and her suitor. He woos her away from her village with promises of a life beside the ocean. The ocean is there all right, but the wooing suitor has now turned into someone she doesn't really know and, to be honest, he is certainly not very likeable.
I have sympathy for the young girl. To stay in the village of her parents, unmarried, is unthinkable. I suppose she is lucky that she had a suitor at all and one who "allowed" her to be a student. There is an inkling of hope that once the student days are over, she will find work that is fulfilling. I cannot imagine her husband will be tolerant of much else.
This is also a story of grief. To leave your childhood home into the (fingers crossed!) arms of a man you hope loves you and treats you well. This young woman has no voice of her own. Let's hope she eventually is able to be more equal in the marriage. Happiness, in that case, is possible.
Donning my editing cap for a moment, I did spot a couple of things that might improve readability:
1. "It had been Usman's dream to become a teacher, the life of a farmer in a small village was simply not for him." Instead of a comma, I suggest this be two sentences. "It had been Usman's dream to become a teacher. The life of a farmer in a small village..."
2. "She was yet to visit her parents," Suggest changing "was" to "had". "She had yet to visit her parents."
3. I think this sentence reads better with the comma after "Suddenly." "Suddenly a strong gust and large splash of waves, knocked her to the ground." "Suddenly, a strong gust and large splash of waves knocked her to the ground."
4. I would also remove the comma in this sentence. "No reason, at all." "No reason at all."
I look forward to reading more of your stories. This one has so much going for it.
A couple of thoughts come immediately to mind when I read your poem. One, that I had a conversation with a friend just this afternoon about what she calls an existential crisis. And second, I thought of the show "Alone" that's currently on the History channel.
I think the three interweave beautifully. On the show, participants are surviving alone, pitted against not only the need to provide themselves with food and shelter but to survive themselves with no distractions in the form of other people. Sometimes it is not lack of food that drives them to tap out. It is the aloneness. Alone with their thoughts. Alone with their feelings that perhaps they did not want to have. Alone with memories.
So, too, my friend's conversation about her existential crisis. She is at a crossroads. Empty-nesting in more than one way, aimless. Not pitying herself exactly, more of a "what's the point to all this" attitude.
Which brings me back to your poem, which encompasses all of that I wrote above and more. We can be alone in more ways than one. When we are no longer cool with our own company, it's up to us to question the why of it all.
Editing wise I might suggest breaking this into stanzas. Otherwise, the simple words hold their own quite well.
I thank you for your thought-provoking poem. Lots to think about!
Greetings and salutations! I've stopped by to review "The New Reality."
Funny how humans always want to make a "thing" about things. How just a few nights of something new become "this is how we do it."
Your short story about the foursome who seem to be wandering through a sick and/or dying world puts that message out loud and clear. There is comfort in company. There is also annoyance in that same company.
As any good short story does, yours leaves so many unanswered questions. What happened? How died these four come to be together?
What is not in question is if John is coming back. He's clearly not.
Donning my editing cap for a moment, I would suggest a bit of a rework on the sentence "George, Millie, and Jane kept on walking with (add 'their') arms full of wood. John was left standing by his pile (delete 'gathered wood.').
Are you planning on more chapters or is this a standalone?
Thank you. I enjoyed reading and also reviewing your story.
Hello, Sophy - here to review "Laguna Cliffs," a poem I was lucky enough to stumble over this afternoon.
At the beginning I was unsure who was telling the tale, but soon realized it was the timeless earth. How many millennia has this ground been walked on, climbed, skipped over, shoveled out of the way? Only the earth will ever truly know.
So too, is this timeless tale of love. Love for a father for his daughter, who returns that love for all of her life and the remainder of his.
It is poignant when she holds his hand as a tiny girl, and then holds his hand again, his weary hand, worn out by (presumably) illness or perhaps just age.
It will soon be time for those hands to let go for the last time here on this earth. But what love is bound together in life does not ever die.
It will ever be remembered as she sits on "their" rock, whether in person or in her dreams.
Editing, etc.: None noted.
This poem really touched me deeply. Laguna is where my mother asked for some of her ashes to be spread. I'll remember your poem on the day I do so.
An ode to the preacher man. Weary, humbled, wanting to serve. That's the message that comes through here.
I appreciate that you use some old language (cometh, goeth) as it fits your theme well.
I would suggest breaking this up into stanzas to improve readability, especially as there is little punctuation. Perhaps like this:
Preacher man oh where does thou cometh from
I come from preaching the Word
Oh preacher man where do thou goeth
I go to preach the Word
For I am a wanderer and sometimes a beggar too
I own everything however nothing all at the same time
See my Father is King, however ,I have laid aside everything to follow him
All for the sake of my Lord a preacher I must be
I teach and I preach and few really listen to me
Oh preacher man are you tired and weary yet
I am tired and I get weary a lot however I look to the hills from which cometh my help
All of my help comes from the Lord
Preacher man will you ever quit preaching
No not till I am dead
That I do not dread because then I will sing the song of redemption at my Savior's feet
Preacher mango on then if you must I shall pray on and on for you
Pray on if you must however living God’s Word is best
I need your prayers however I want more for you live abundantly
Walk in his love and grace and share it so much
Live for him with all you got for that would brighten my heart
Preacher man go forth then and I will try and heed what you have said
Preach on preacher the world needs you more than ever
Also, 'mango' needs a space so that it reads 'man go'
I would suggest punctuation, but I know that's a matter of taste. Either way, the message is clear.
Perhaps 'enjoy' is not the correct term to use for your poem due to the subject matter, but I did enjoy it.
It reads differently than longer-stanza poems. I'm not sure I've read a poem written this way before. Everything that needed to rhyme did, and your choice of words exactly right.
No suggestions or critique.
Grief does weigh heavy on the heart. Perhaps I am in a tender place at the moment, and if so, I will honor it by reading your poem again.
I can feel it now, as I read your poem. The dread roiling in my stomach as those around me wait to hear what pearls (or s***e!) might drop from my lips.
Great job to stuff such meaning into a few short lines. Your tanka is well-written. No critique or suggestions.
You have balanced the format well, and I applaud your efforts in that regard.
I get that you needed a 6 to end the first stanza and therefore your wording fits. When I first read it, I thought that the "is" from line three worked better in line four, but that would have thrown off your count.
Volumes can be written about what you chose to write about, but I will proudly admit that my mind IS multi-paced!
It almost reads as an illustrated children's story.
(It took me a minute to decipher the "bear" symbol, but I laughed at the "I can't groundhog it either")
Donning my editing cap for a moment, would you consider adding a word? Specifically, "Groundhog's put a signboard" to "Groundhog's put up a signboard" or even "Groundhog's put out a signboard."
It's a time-worn tale, to be sure. Love. Loss. Regret. And freedom. Hope for the future. Those who once caused us so much pain are finally put aside. Finally.
Suggestion in the first stanza:
His slate blue eyes, dream of far off lands.
could be re-worded to: "His eyes, slate blue, dream of far-off lands."
Re-reading your poem a number of times still leaves me satisfied.
An Alicondor is the stuff legends are made of! A story to tell the kiddos and for the tale of Paddy's adventures to be handed down from generation to generation. I can just see the wide-eyed great grandchildren listening with rapt attention.
Donning my editing hat, there are some spots where I would recommend a look-over. Some examples:
1. Hanging his head on the ship’s railing, (suggestion: change "on" to "over")
2. It’s tail it swished from side to side. (suggestion: change "It's" to "Its" as it is possessive, not plural)
3. Was trouble and not be denied. (suggestion: add "would" so that it reads "Was trouble and would not be denied.)
Excellent.
Dark.
Dark needs to be told in a way that makes sense.
Dark needs to be told in a way that grips the reader. Told in a way that drums some sense into those who will hear.
The structure of your poem holds true. I'm not a rhyming poet and admire those who can rhyme well!
I do have a question of the use of the word "but" in "The house is but small." To me, you could leave out the "but" and still have a good sentence: "The house is small,"
I'm curious as to why you chose to use it?
I love the letter format you used to get your point across. Silly company thinking to swindle a savvy writer from not only funds but also the feeling of accomplishment that must be bundled with the Hard Work module!
The points in your letter are laid out well. My only suggestion would be to re-work the paragraph on the Coke/Pepsi challenge. Just the last part? Perhaps something like "This is the Coke vs Pepsi Challenge of writing programs and I intend to be the Coke (or the Pepsi. I can never remember who actually won, but whichever one won...that will be me!)." Upon re-reading your original, I think it does work, so maybe my suggestion is not needed? At first read I was a little thrown by the exclamation point. Probably just me.
Anyway, enough about all that. I think this was a great read and personally inspiring!
It's a sad tale, to be sure. But in your 365 words are all the details to tell the tale of appeasing the (hopefully not obnoxious) town drunk while still keeping your job.
I do suggest adding a hyphen between towel and laden so that the sentence reads "He pointed a half-dry glass in his towel-laden hand at her."
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