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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/reviews/jackiesnax
Review Requests: OFF
12 Public Reviews Given
12 Total Reviews Given
Review Style
Honest. That doesn't mean I'm gonna be mean, but it does mean I'll tell you the truth about what's working and what's not.
I'm good at...
Helping you compress your precious lump of coal into a diamond.
Favorite Genres
Speculative Fiction's my speciality. Also into Scifi, Fantasy, and anything with queer characters. Young Adult and Children's lit is also fine to send my way.
Least Favorite Genres
Sports. That's a genre, right? Sports.
Favorite Item Types
Anything with strong characters and an interesting setting. Even if it's not fully polished yet, I can always get into something if it's got those two things going for it.
Least Favorite Item Types
I am honestly incapable of suspending my disbelief long enough to read your work if your world is populated by nothing but straight white men. It's not realistic. It's also not a world I can see myself in, so I don't quite like reading it, either.
I will not review...
something that needs an editor more than a reviewer. If your work fits that description, still hit me up, though! I'm a freelance editor.
Public Reviews
1
1
Review by Jackie Snax Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Your poem is LOVELY. Something you should know about me, though - when I do poetry, I do spoken word. So a lot of my critique is gonna be about rhythm. I read your poem out loud, allowing the pauses you'd indicated, and it didn't quite work. So I did some s***! Changed some comas. Pressed enter a lot.

Take a look at this and see what you think:

Open my box, dear adversary.
Assess its contents.
Scribble the imperfections in your crude clipboard,
vomit them out to all
Like a nauseous choirmaster.
You! Are! Sick!
Not I.

This room, pure white
(save the blue bruise of your presence)
Is my afterlife.
When you are here, you interrupt it
Like a cough in a funeral.
A man spilling his mouthy bucket of phlegm everywhere he speaks.
When you leave, I am alone with the loud tolls of the clock on the wall
Sending quaking tremors through my ears as I lay,
Waiting for your slimy hand to grip my door
and enter
again.

Oh, but how I love the scent of the ladies entering my room
Wheeling in their gorgeous goblets of heaven
Wielding syringes like tiny swords.
Each day they fill my body with needles. I am their happy little pincushion.
The swords bring me pleasure no lover can
I drift in space and float to the
time
kept
by
that
clang
ing
clock:

tick-tock

tick-tock

tick-tock.

Until the loud knock of my enemy
wakes me again.


Since your poem has a beat inside it, it's really important that when folks read it, they feel that beat. So try reading it aloud. Take a mirror, look yourself in the eye, and try to say it with every emotion inside you, respecting every pause and exclamation mark. If you don't like what I've done, try something else! Just remember to feel the beat.
2
2
Review by Jackie Snax Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Total Newbie, here, with total newbie questions.

1) How do I publish chapters? I have the prologue up, but I want to add chapters to it now. What do I do? Do I just make a new doc?

2) How do you put links in stories?

3) Can you add illustrations? I work with an artist and my work is illustrated, I just don't know how to add them.

Thanks for your time! If you can answer any of these, I'd really appreciate it.

- Jackie
3
3
Review of Noticing Newbies  Open in new Window.
Review by Jackie Snax Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Jackie Snax here! I write queer ecofeminist speculative fiction! In other words - I love it when the world ends. I love stories with no hope, but then, as it goes on, so much hope. I love it when everyone is dying, but a few survivors are eating a spaghettios feast in their bunker and laughing at each others' attempts to recreate episodes of the Simpsons that they remember from the days of TV. I love it when all those survivors are queer, too, and it's an extra bonus if everything's getting overgrown. Cities incased in vines and moss - pardon my tumblr, but that is my Aesthetic right there. Plus if there's aliens. Especially aliens that don't have the same idea of gender; that's a personal pet-peeve of mine.

I also love to review! I'm new here, but I've been reading and reviewing and having fun so far. Totally message me if you have something you think I'd be interested in reading - I'd love to take a look and tell you what I think!

Biggest inspirations are Octavia Butler, Emily St. John Mandel, and Starhawk. So faith, plague, and hippies. That's my s***, right there.

Thanks for reading this, folks! It's a pleasure to meet ya.

- Jackie
4
4
Review by Jackie Snax Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Once upon a time there was an old woman who lived by the sea. Everyday, she would wake up as the sun did, before it really did, when the sky was just faded stars and pale tendrils of pink reaching from the other side, and she would walk along the beach, sand on her toes, fresh air in her nose, and an ache, deep in her bones, almost like sugar on a cavity. One day not particularly unlike any other, the old librarian with the quiet voice and the soft eyes met her at the gate. Because of that, she felt compelled to walk with her that day, and then, when the same thing happened again, the next day. Until finally, it wasn't quite the trying social task it started out as.
5
5
Review of Magic Lamp  Open in new Window.
Review by Jackie Snax Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (3.0)
The idea of your poem is strong, but I think you need to build up more hope before that final, ringing truth: you're your own hero.

I'd say add more to the very beginning. Like, after "Rub the genie's lamp and all your dreams come true," go on to explain that wealth, those riches, that wonder! Talk about everything you can have, and the stability of being given what you need and want. Build up that desire, because that desire for the simple fix of the genie's lamp is what's going to make the end of your poem hit home.

I'd also say put 'there is no lamp' on its own. Putting it on the next line will make the audience pause, and again, sort of build up the loss. You could also add more about what it's like, not having that quick fix, that stability of a 'magic lamp.'

Now, this:

"When you don't have a genie,
you have to become your own hero (remove period)
Because not everyone can find a magic lamp.

this should stay the same. It's final, simple, lovely in its little tragedy. Such a good end deserves more to build it up, though, and I get the feeling when I'm reading this that a lot wasn't written down. There's more to this lovely little poem! I hope you work more on it.
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