Life Critique

The story is set up as a list, but it is unclear of what, even after completion of the reading—possibly instructions? I wanted more description of the essential starters to life besides money, especially since the game monopoly is used twice, unlike the other examples. Some of the wording is unnecessary and weakens the force the listing creates, such as starting with “but” and “once again”. The most obvious revision, though, is the near constant switch from second person singular to second person plural. It isn’t as forceful to jump back and forth from you to we and vice versa. Either is effective, as long as only one is chosen.  I like the concept of board games compared to life and I find the “title” appropriate (although it could be changed to “The Game of Life”) but it seems like a waste to not include any examples of the board game Life itself.  At the same time, I don’t see why the title isn’t set off from the rest of the list. There could also be more links to games, potentially branching to video games (relationships like “saving the princess”? ) if you want to go in that direction. The limit really just depends on how far you take it. “Games” is a very broad term: intellectual strategy games,  card games, board games, violent video games, and physical outdoorsy games. Perhaps there is one link to all of these that you could find and emphasize? 

Excerpts Critique

 My interpretation of this piece is that it is a divorce and the understanding of it from the eyes of a toddler but I’m not sure of the form. It seems to be excerpts _from a childhood, but doesn’t feel like a journal. The epilogue is the expression of the narrator’s confusion over her childlike understanding of the divorce—maybe the strange way in which she presented it to herself or her disbelief that she didn’t see what was right in front of her. The opening seems to focus on colors and blue is seen throughout the piece, but I think this could be more prevalent. The first line hints at the contrast of love in marriage and hatred in divorce. The phrase “a house which nowadays…” implies that the house was not that way before, something I like about the childlike interpretation. Maybe more could be done to show how the narrator’s interpretation changed as she got older. Much is mentioned about “the spirit of ___,” something that seems reminiscent of being able to get the gist of an ideabut not able to firmly grasp the concept.  The rest of the piece is a string of childish images, hate, and desires. I love the phrase “I burned my heart” which appears to be a physical manifestation (heartburn) of emotional pain.  The last entry seems to be a call back to the first—a description of the photo which is placed on the refrigerator at the end. 

What was is Gone Critique

The experiment is in the story told backwards, as the opening is in an “aftermath,” leaving the reader curious and confused. I like the unintentional understatement in the news: “just absolute chaos” but it might undermine the seriousness of the situation. The tension rises with the line “Any calls from my sister?” which hinted towards a family matter, yet her sister is not alluded to in the rest of the piece, which could be rectified easily. The line “Sorry for your loss” sounds more like a loss of a family member, which is confusing. Little hints at the misfortune of the situation dot the piece such as Rhonda peeing in a bucket. I think these could be multiplied. The phone call to Rhonda could use more ellipses in the place of her responses. There could also be more of a build up to the evacuation, such as seeing the weather report before Al went to play golf and exchanging a look. The ending is a start contrast, obviously intentional, with “And everything was fine.” Personally, I think starting with “And” takes away the separation and finality of the sentence. I want to see more of the family matters of trying to get into contact, of the feeling of isolation. There could be a hint at what Rhonda had planned for her birthday, but in some sort of tragic way, such as something reminding her of it while simultaneously reminding her of her situation. 

Cynthia Critique

 I find it odd that the sentence "Cynthia doesn't particularly...doesn't like Cynthia at all" is placed so unassumingly in the first paragraph (not even the last line, but the second-to-last line), yet it is so telling once the reader factors in the events at the end of the piece. I wonder about the opening because, even though it segues nicely, it doesn't do much for the character or the piece except maybe create an interesting parallel with the two characters eating. It is mentioned that she has been away from home but neglects to mention where. I find the narration striking because for some reason the more thoughtful portions ("Probably more than she loves her own parents" and "Cynthia often wonders...Cool Ranch Dorito") seem so much like something out of a preteen novella to me for some reason (preteens always seem to be daydreaming and not loving their parents as much as they should). I would like to see a buildup of the adjectives describing Jill at the last sentence of the paragraphs, a new one for each paragraph, with the list growing (thin-lipped Jill...audible thin-lipped jill...deceiving audible thin-lipped Jill, etc. I like the detail that Cynthia deaf in her right ear but isn't developed and I can't help but think it'd be an interesting story. I think all the segues work really well and develop the characters. The last line works really well to sum up the staple of the characters.

Blue Critique

This piece seems to experiment with a maritime version of Red Riding Hood, which I didn't see coming despite the title. I found the opening a little confusing because the first character other than blue mentioned is his grandpa, his mother's father, but the first character to speak is his stepfather. I think a line defining his stepfather's character or relationship with Blue would clear up this confusion. Also, the shack is the first room mentioned, but when he walks into what is designated "the room," which is clearly not the shack, it is unspecified where the room is. I love the shoe-tying rhyme as it really adds to the childishness of the piece. The opening seems a little heavy-handed, but that only adds to the fairytale, meant-for-children feel. The child's past and imagination are fleshed out clearly, quickly, and creatively. The entire red-riding-hood-esque bits seem entirely off-kilter compared to the rest of the piece, creating a jarring feel. The shark shows up abruptly and without much notice, quickly establishing the magical realism, but I would still like to see Blue react rather than just replying (does he even look?), even if it is casually. His shark's suffocation also seems abrupt, so much so that I thought it was faking somehow, as he was above water for a long time beforehand. There is also no mention of the shark or his fate later in the story. I love the detail of his father's shoelaces being untied. 

Voicemail Critique

I think the interest is in the characters, which are hard to develop with one-sided conversations. It’s difficult to imagine the characters with what is given, but that is something you can work with: Is Anne a crazy stalker or is she lonely and misunderstood? Is Marcy stuck up or is she simply put off by Anne’s forwardness? It’s impossible for the reader to tell how Marcy and Anne met and whether there was any ambiguity in Marcy’s offer of a movie, and whether Marcy listened to the voicemails or ignored them.  Another interesting detail is in the voicemail messages they leave for callers—Marcy naturally seems like the sympathetic character (“Have a blessed day”), though just from the plot you’d assume otherwise. Both the characters are sympathetic, because they own up to faults, but its natural for a reader to favor one. In this case, though, it’s hard to choose. The details really add to the interpretation; it is mentioned that Anne took Marcy’s number from facebook which is usually a little suspicious and later she knows it from memory and has it on speed dial but Marcy was definitely harsh in her response. Marcy’s response through email is curious though, and seems like a bit of a cop out—why would one respond to texts and voicemails with an email? One thing that really sticks with me though is the line “I thought we had something” because that reads like a potential romantic relationship.  

Conceal or Reveal Critique

The opening of this piece creates a feeling of universality or simply ambiguity with the phrase “his or her, or her or her, or his or his.” I think this should be clarified and emphasized.   The characters seem relatable enough for it to be universality yet parts of the narrative are specific. After the depiction of the characters’ emotional distance, there is a hypothetical second person. From a zoomed in, intimate vignette of journaling, I find the phrase “like the news broadcast” disruptive, forcing the reader to zoom out once drawn in.  The specific mention of degrees, while hard to visualize somewhat, adds to the interesting parallel of abstract and distinct. The idea of being as revealed as presently comfortable contrasts with the characters’’ agreeing “to withhold their secrets.” While this illustrates a desire for complete acceptance at conflict with the fear of revelation, it is a bit confusing. What follows is statements of certainty coupled with an “or” which creates interesting parallel branches of narrative. However, the third scenario seems to have some pronoun discrepancies and becomes incomprehensible.  The ending is riveting, portraying the human desire to meet expectations but at the same time mentions an archetype, again zooming out. It’s hard to reconcile the image of a failing relationship that the participants are struggling to continue with the distance and superficiality portrayed. Also, the tendency to try to zoom out suddenly comes as a non-sequitur, as well as the entire second paragraph.

Desafortunado Critique

The experiment in this piece appears to be in the chronology, but I’m not positive about the chronology. I assumed it would be backwards once the horse showed up again, but upon reflecting, I think it is a full circle, opening with the end and working up to an explanation. I love the details and descriptions of the town and its interworkings, but question some of the wording, which I’ve circled. On the second page I like the phrase “The horse shuddered Herman in the silence” though I think it was a typo, however in light of the ending, I suppose it would be Freddy which doesn’t sound nearly as nice. Junior as a character confused me because it took effort to figure out if he had some mental disability or if he just had a stunted understanding because of his age. The way he has trouble with the fence is the soonest clear indication. The horse is referred to as “the albino” and “Cheyenne,” which could be either for variation, but I think it could used to reflect the emotional attachment of the human character in the scene. On page six there is an allusion to the “beaten horse” which could be played with. As for the climax, I find it a bit disjointed, as the gun is “sitting out on the desk” and Dessie is on the floor, yet when she shoots Herman, it appears as though she slept with it in her hand.

Currents Critique

The method of telling this piece works well to accomplish the feeling that anything can happen ending with the beginning, “a simple summer day” and climaxing with the recovery of a drowning boy.  Although I like the style and understand the short sections provide limitations, the opening seems disjointed- jumping from Gary to Josey to the granddaughters. Even the granddaughters referred to as seals threw me off. The elements of innocence and death are intertwined in the detail that “his was the first hand she’d ever held” paralleled with the hand of the dead child in the next section, bouncing with the stretcher. I do wonder about the logic of putting a drowned boy on a stretcher as that is reminiscent of an ambulance, but he’s already dead. I like the backwardness even in the section about the discovery of the body- “at first he mistook it for seaweed.” The detail of where the girls were before the climax is a nice detail. The description of the lifeguard as “torpid” is a bit undeveloped, perhaps implying something about authority. Even the detail of the drowned boy’s brother as Filipino says something about races banding together in times of hardship, perhaps. All of the characters are related through the discovery of the boy, creating an interesting web. I think it’d be an interesting plot to have these character’s lives intersect again at some other point in time. But as a short and not-so-sweet piece this works well.

Notes on a Kitchen Table Critique

I like the use of strikethrough in the notes. I can’t tell whether the note is from the girlfriend or the mother. Because the talk of the girlfriend at the end both implies it is her and it isn’t: the mother probably would not be too concerned how Danny responded to the girlfriend (unless she was the one good influence in his life or something) and the girlfriend would probably not mention texting him, and if she did, she wouldn’t need him to fill out the flowchart if she could just talk to him, except for the hint in the note that that makes him feel trapped. I think more should be added to clear up this confusion.  I think the use of the diagrams could be used for more commentary, especially if it’s the mother or a motherly girlfriend- something that makes a loop like “Do you eat lunch -> You should eat lunch, it’s bad not toà What do you eat for lunch?” I like the idea of him forced to be doing something because of the flowchart, but this is incompatible because he found it after his day was over. I’m confused what’s happening in the opening of the largest diagram bubble, but love the line “You’re distilled.” It has more meaning than “You’re fermented” (though I like that too) and that could be explored more. I’m not sure what the implication is that the last answer is not indicated. 

Therapy Session Critique

The opening is powerful and very revealing for the title character, though some of the wording is awkward- like “trusting too much of what people say” seems less appropriate than her caring too much about what other people think. In the middle of discussing her depression, she laughs, an incongruous reaction. How is the reader supposed to feel like this? Is it a manifestation of her “insanity?” Because she doesn’t seem insane, just lonely. Her one-sided confrontation with the therapist is also very telling about her personality. In her speech she refers to a girl as a “bitch” which can be intoned casually or harshly—this can be cleared up with another curse strung before it- which would not be unusual for Caroline. I like the line “I’m just by myself” as it sums up her life and her problem in just four words. She feels physically alone, but does she also feel alone in her problems? Does she recognize other’s problems with socializing? I like the twist as well as the detail of the ball of paper missing the trashcan- I would have liked to see parallelism with Caroline feeling like garbabge.. The husband is not set off by typeface as in the rest of the piece which he easily could be as the use of the world “babe” distinguishes him as a lover. Ending with the words “begins writing” seems pleasantly ironic, but at the same time, the writer has already been writing. 

My best friend is going to prison Critique

The experiment seems to be one story detailed with various forms of communication with spacing playing an important role. I think the spacing could be better utilized on the first page, when defining probable cause, making it look more definition-like. The early opening seems unlike any other form of the piece and I think it should be more “tied down” to the narrative. However, it segues nicely into the definition and what I presume is a report, which could be made clearer. The emphasis on the second page would benefit from centering.  The next is the main form of communication, revealed to be mail, but without any greeting or recognizable form.  It is interspersed with texting, journal entries, and a review for a prison. The prison review, seems not particularly necessary, very abrupt, and just downright strange and formal after so much emotional spillage. The amalgam of apparently conflicting emotions at the end seems characteristic of the speaker, but leaves the reader with this tangled ball of emotions with only a mild desire to untangle them.  I want to see the emotions swirling around the speaker’s head, changing shape and form, growing and shrinking. I want them to be exemplified through words, as well as more playing with spacing and text size.  “I love you. Fuck. You ruined everything.  I hate you. You mean everything to me. You mean nothing to me. Fuck. You made everything better.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.”

Here Lies Love Critique

The form lies in the style with its vivid imagery and unexpected juxtapositions. There is also the unusual lack of a proper pronoun for the first half of a page. The title is reminiscent of an epitaph. The first section is one line, making it very jarring and placing emphasis on it. The second section is sensual imagery, with effective alliteration and repetition. There is the interesting juxtaposition of “Lake Geneva blue and nondescript purple something-other.” There is a foreboding mention of “evil inside her”. There are also recurring images of triangles. The speaker seems robotic while the girl has no distinct image to cling to. The third begins to hint at the relationship between the two with recurring shape images. The fourth names what the reader is lead to believe is the girl from the first three sections, Katherine, as indicated by yet another shape images. There is a mention of “her lake” which brings the reader back to the second section. The fourth section ties together all the shape imagery, reconciling it with geometry. It is at this point that I feel satisfied I have “understood” the piece and sit back and let the rest wash over me without reaching out to grab anything. The fourth mentions more of Katherine and the fifth brings back the seasonal imagery planted (pardon the pun) in the first line. Overall, I think there needs to be more tying this piece together, more lines weaved through.

In Fair Asphodel Critique

The opening is very tactile with lots of sensual, possibly sexual descriptions. There’s a hint of corruption in the carbuncles, razor blades, and condoms. As much as I like the depraved casually included with the more mundane, I think the word “condoms” could be better arranged within its sentence. The house is described in “outside”, more exposed words. The idea of the carousel floating down the river gives me a feeling of displacement, that I am in a boat and it seems as though everything is moving around me- I think it fits this piece. The river boils, an internal conflict. The meadow is futile, but the reader knows not what this means- what is the meadow’s purpose? I like the juxtaposition of the dark verb “plague” and casual “dotted with.” The flowers “anxiously pulsate” but the reason for this is unsure. The corpses’ movement is abrupt and unexpected. The king is anguished, but the reader doesn’t know why. The sultry scene is renewed with the flowers, now dancing as well. I like the Unintended Lullaby as a potential title. The final section is separate, indicating there is supposed to be some big reveal or understanding at the end, just from reading this one line. However, I find that the images in the story are so surreal and contrasting that I spent more time trying to reconcile them with one another than trying to extract the meaning and purpose of the story, leaving me confused. 

Café Nada Critique

The experiment of this work is obviously in the form of a fictional travel guide. The form is emphasized in the mention of the competition, Café Dada, as well as the voice throughout the entire piece. The French serves to emphasize the elegance and decadence of the restaurant. There’s almost an air of haughtiness and exclusion that highlights the absurdity of the subject- it is rare for most artists to be associated with luxury, perhaps highlighted in the irony of the free lunch, because “they have to pay for only the tables, glasses…” etc. There’s also the caustic jab at English majors in the description of the serveur’s background. The true incongruity is in the thought-out graffiti in the toilettes, including parodies of classified ads and the obligatory “call for a good time”. The name of the restaurant/ title itself is a play on words, nada  being hope, nothing, or slang for zero to which the text draws attention. I wish there could have been more included, such as the hinted-at literary-based menus. As it is now, its hard to imagine anyone eating at this restaurant, which might be the point. At the same time, it seems reminiscent of lavish Greek feasts, but a feast of the mind rather than the stomach, a place of respite for the thoughtful rather than the gluttonous. Perhaps the theme of the whole piece could best be summarized as a sort of “food for thought’ motif. I’d eat there.

Things in a Shooting Gallery Critique

The piece is an interesting split between proverb-type sections and more prose-like sections. I think that the arrangement of these could be a little more effective, as the main group of three proverbs takes place right after childhood. The second two are warranted, mentioning elementary school and children’s perception of guns, but “Stick to your guns” could take place somewhere else in the narrative. This irony is echoed in the comparison of pride and patriotism. The idea that the narrator was female came a shock when she mentioned her purse was stolen. The entire purpose of “A little episode” went completely over my head-the entire buildup is undermined by the last two line’s confliction. I like that the narrator’s obsession with Annie Oakley is both emphasized but at the same time understated in the lines “I purchased every book about her.” The line says so much and so little. The line “the little girl with the big gun from Oklahoma” made me pause and wonder if the gun or the girl or both were from Oklahoma.  T idea of feminism should be explored more than at the end of “‘They’re called Marksmen, Mijo’” or left out completely, in my opinion. The whole piece is a collage of this daughter of a gun shop owner’s life and perception of guns. At first she seems indifferent to them but then becomes obsessed with Anne Oakley and proud-slash-patriotic. There could be more of a buildup.

i should have taken an ambien Critique

I like the idea of a therapist’s suggestion leading to a stream of consciousness piece during  a fit of insomnia. I wonder about her exact medium- is she on a computer or a physical journal?  This could at a lot to the piece about he personality- is she more old-fashioned or contemporary? Garside’s personality is hard to distinguish because the image of “army” green pants and his daughter’s name being cloud contrast, one being more drill sergant-ish and the other being more hippie-ish. Neither add to the idea of a typical religion teacher. Could this be explored more? I really like the phrase of “spit and bullshit” and the juxtaposition of the physical and the metaphorical. I would like to see more of this. I wish I could see more of the narrator, as our first idea of her personality is “if people like me go to hell then heaven will definitely be really boring” and we aren’t given the name Caitlyn until halfway down the last page. Just the fact that she call her grandfather “gramps” hints at their relationship. I would like to see more- was he a “fuddy duddy”?  Where does she think he went after death? I think the ending about feeding people “drugs instead of fear” was very powerful and it seems like just the start of an angry rant. I was kind of disappointed afterwards when she just left to sew her pants after that.

The Explorer Critique

The piece’s form is a case file for a psychiatric patient. The patient is obviously Dora the Explorer, or a child projecting herself to be Dora. The description could use some more clinical-ized examinations, rather than bunching them all up at the end. There could be some skepticism implied, such as using phrases like “as she calls them” and quotation marks around “friends”. There could be some more misunderstanding implied, such as “enjoys cowboy cookies: it  is not known whether this name is due to the shape or the ingredients of these ‘cookies.’” There should be more use of present tense. The lack of interest in her younger siblings could indicate some jealousy, as it is normal for older children to be displaced when younger children are born, yet this is not discussed. I think the “audience of children” doesn’t seem like something she would recognize, along with other things, like the iguana’s crush on the monkey. I think there should be more of a 5 year old’s perspective on things.  I am curious about how the patient got admitted to the clinic, whether she fought, and more about how she reacts to certain treatments. I almost want to see this as a “released” file, where we see her reactions to the treatment upon release. The doctors see her interact with other adults, but have they seen her interact with children outside her family? Does she try to explain things to them against their will?

The Last Will and Testament of Edward P. Unum Critique

The experiment in the piece is the form as a living will. I would like to see some more of Edward Unum’s personality. There seems to be a little humor in the line “I tried not to [die]” and I wonder if that was a facet of his personality. The entire piece seems to me to have a bitter, ironic undertone. His parents “never sought…responsibility”, which makes me think of many young, unwed mothers being told to take responsibility for their actions and implies he was an “accident.” His uncle was said to give “sometimes less than I needed” and his gift is for “everything you said you would do.” However, the uncle appears to be still living, so that’s probably accounting for promises in the future. Of course, Edward is sick, so the death should not have come as a surprise. Edward had to look at “what [his godfather’s] intentions are] when asking them for advice, which seems suspicious. He also undermines his doctor, saying “even for just a short period.” Even Libby, who is apparently his wife, was never “too far” behind. His son, he merely wishes the best of luck. All these implications made me anticipate some sort of rebellion, fake-out at the end or some twist. There’s also 2% of the fortune missing, but that could just be some custom I don’t know about. It reminds me of The Frantic’s “Last will and Temperment” sketch.

The Story of Our Life Critique

The story starts out very general and simples, basically as general and simple as it gets. The people seem nondescript- “ a women”, “a man”, “some children” but then the clause “who was just like all…” brings everything the reader needs to know, though it is somewhat stereotypical. The line “And it rained all day” brings the odd effect of shortening these events into one day, but then the story continues with general statements, emphasizing monotony. I almost would have liked it if Smart used “women” instead of “woman” and “men” instead of “man”. Smart then speaks to the reader, claiming to answer the readers’/ society’s cries for scandal and entertainment, but then only generalizes even more with “chapters,” which exemplifies the irritated tone, kind of like how someone explains things when they are frustrated: “First of all..” It gives a lifetime in seconds, like flashes of lightning lighting up a sky for just a second before pitch blackness falls once again.

                The story seems to interrupt itself with a new story, slightly more descriptive, yet still relying heavily on assumption. Then it interrupts itself again, bringing the narrator into the story before zooming out to old women clucking like mother hens over each other. Then there’s a cut scene to a jar of formaldehyde preserved newts. Then a scene is painted. There is dialogue, but the reader is blind to the speaker, and forced to presume it is the old women. 

Glossolalia Critique

The first thing I noticed was that Lewis’ identity is hidden in the first mention of “they”. I don’t see the purpose in this and wonder if it was intentional. However, I do like the change in referral to Charlie as Chuck when Lewis is speaking to him. This makes me wonder how “Chuck” feels about his nickname. Their knowledge of the bar makes me wonder how old they are and makes it hard to visualize them. Lewis seems to narrate the story like a long yarn. I think this feeling of exaggeration and suspense could be more incorporated into his character. I like the experiment of a story within a story, but I think the inner level of story is sort of glossed over. For instance, there’s the line “tried clawing a bull’s face off” which raises a lot of questions. Is it a literal bull? What train was he hopping on that had a bull? Wasn’t that dangerous? Did he get hurt or maimed? I also kind of wonder how the rest of the customers at the bar reacted to this, since he was apparently a regular. I wouldn’t sacrifice the last line spoken line for this, though. I would recommend he ends the story with the reaction of the bar folk and then there’s a pause in which he fishes and says “What I’ll remember about him is how he finished his stories…” And then work in the ending dialogue which worked well.

Contemporary Country Music: A Songbook

The experiment in this piece is obviously within the form as a Songbook. The form works as reflective of the musical motif. With John coming back from the war, there is the common sense of detachment and fear of change. He finds himself in a country he fought with his life to save that isn’t the same country he left, at least to some degree. This is emphasized in his implicit complaint about the newer country music played at the bar. Music is again important in the last scene, as his sister tells him about a song she relates to him about a temporarily suicidal soldier. This is possibly hinting at some of John’s feelings, as earlier in the narrative he expresses a desire to buy a gun when drunk.  When the form is taken with the title as a contemporary songbook, the implication being that the entire story is unpleasant to John, evident in his apparent attempts to escape online and then at a bar from his family that loves him. There seems to be an underlying message that John is trying to escape his current life, like in the song his sister mentions at the end. However, the form, only including spoken words, creates confusion about the speaker. It would be more helpful to definitively identify different speakers, as most could be interpreted as the mother or father speaking and create too much of an emphasis on another character, not John.

Texts for Nothing Critique

    Beckett’s piece reminds me of one of those tropes in old cartoons, something like the Flintstones. Running gag would be that the characters were walking on some rolling conveyor belt and a revolving background would be on a conveyor belt behind them. They would walk and walk, never getting anywhere, while the background would show the same features, rocks and trees, over and over again. Then Becket takes that scene and puts another conveyor belt over the first scene and has it going up and down. They criss-cross and create a flashing pattern, causing the reader, and the narrator, to swerve their head around like a kid with ADHD. The only way for the narrator and reader, as they are in the same boat, to cope with this is to focus on one thing and hold it for as long as they can.

                The narrator and the reader have an interesting relationship as it’s like the narrator is in the reader’s mind, visualizing the same thing. He corrects the reader first one way, and then the other, making sure the reader has an accurate representation of the events in the story, such as in the line “The top, very flat, of a mountain, no, a hill, but so wild, so wild, enough.” The narrator directs the reader’s imagination and visualization of the story, giving him or her a hand to hold between all the sudden scene and image and idea shifts in the piece.

Having a Conversation at an Inconvenient Time Critique

The nature of the interaction between the two characters is quickly and clearly established with the line “I get ready to fake laugh at a joke she once made.” Yet, I didn’t get the feeling she was his girlfriend until the very end. The term “over-sharing chauffeur” lends to me the idea that they were forced together on a road trip by chance. This could be easily remedied with a remark about how she feels hearing about his ex. There’s an interesting shift when she lets out an “honest” laugh yet he “kind of” smiles, probably unintentional. The way she describes the car out of boredom avidly lists the numbers of people around/talking to her is an interesting character trait which I think could be played with more. The phrase “I can’t do anything but hear him” bring a tell-tale heart type of “haunting” into the relationship, which I’m not sure is conducive to the theme. I like the repetition of “I’m not familiar with.” The phrase “You’re poorly timed” is most likely a typo but I like the idea of her describing him as a poorly timed individual. I think it would be a really interesting direction to go in. Did they meet at the wrong time? Does he have poor timing in general? The ending seems conflicted as she builds a resolve to speak to him but then decides to listen. What does that mean for the characters?

Stockholm Syndrome Critique

  The title strikes me as strange, since the narrator seems to be the one garnering affection for the wasps. Who  is the captor in this situation? I could see it as both ways, since the wasps are in the narrator’s care, yet s/he is a slave to the wasps’ architectural inclinations. The third sentence in the first full section seems like a non-sequitur since s/he hates that there are very few insects of this type, which emphasizes the lack  of similar insects but then states that s/he hates that they exist, implying that few would be better than many. I think the second diary-type entry could benefit from some contrasting through juxtaposition. I like the methods of anthropomorphizing the wasps. When she discusses their affinity for a certain song, I almost want to hear more about the wasps likes and dislikes—is the narrator curious at all? Does s/he experiment? The last line of the 17 February raises what is potentially the wasps’ affects on the narrator, but these seem understated. It goes with the theme of the story for the narrator to blow them off, but I would like to see more of the negative physical effects. The opening on Valentine’s day and the “love letter” seem like things that could be explored more. Also, he details at the end bring a lot to the narrative. I am curious why the mother kept the nest- did she know of its importance to the narrator?

Evidence Critique

             The form(s) here are obviously the experiment. I think it was very well executed, with the painstaking attention to detail to make the different mediums—an ad on craigslist and texting appear true to their form. The reader is drawn into the story and slowly learns the characters’ identities. There is an interesting effect when the reader is forced to read from the bottom to the top, going in chronological order rather than through normal up and down, left to right text. I wonder if this could possibly be explored a bit more, although perhaps not in this piece.  I’m curious about the phone number offered in the text in relation to the discovery that the email was falsified. This could create more drama if a transcript were written of Margaret calling the number, and create a little more time for the discovery of the fraud.  Who would be at that number? The texting dialect works well. I almost wish there could be little ambiguity at the end, because, as it stand, I have the feeling that the piece is almost negated by the falsity of the content. I think more could be done to explore the sisters’ relationship after this falling out and could continue to play with the different mediums, as the sisters would be refusing to speak to each other, at least face to face. I’d also like to hear more about Will and his “history” as it is put in the story. 

Theodicy Critique

  I liked the way the bookends worked with the rest of the piece. It shows this conflict that keeps arising, weaving it throughout. The parentheticals in the second paragraph seem unnecessary and merely tacked on, as they are never discussed or mentioned again. The third paragraph seems to be lacking as it opens with theoretical yet she states she “regressed” so she must have been better at some point. I think the reader would benefit from knowing how the medication affected her. The use of “face” at the top of page two creates an interesting connotation, forcing the reader to imagine the “you” as confrontational—is this intentional? The phrase “buying into your insanity” seems to lean towards the idea of the “you” as a pathological liar. There is a constant conflict in the piece, and the speaker seems as conflicted as the reader. The speaker is “tired of being ignored” which seems negative towards the “you” but then says “when you’ll finally allow me to see you” implying she’s wanted to see him/her for a while—is there perhaps an addiction to him/her? Could this be explored? The parentheticals at the bottom of the second page seem almost mocking. I am curious about the intent there. The line “Shrink says, ‘Let’s try something new’ doesn’t seem to have any purpose. This entire piece has this sense of ambiguity about how the reader should perceive the character being discussed. I don’t know if this was intentional.  

Ondaattje Critique

There is an experiment in this piece in the form, though it is hard to describe exactly what it is. It opens in first person with sentence fragments. There is an element of mystery with the mention of “the other” and an exaggerated onomatopoeia trailing into a contrasting onomatopoeia for the second section. This section is third person and there is a sense of speaking, as the narrator refers to a diagram which the reader cannot see. The contrast of two situations is exaggerated in the lack of punctuation and unconventional spacing of the word “Meanwhile” between two passages.  The spoken words in the next two paragraphs are undifferentiated from the rest of the text, even though they are in Spanish. The next and final section appears to be poetic, a flashing of brief, distinct images, like lightning flashing across a sky.  This is in first person, implied to be Pete Maxwell, different than in the first use of first person, as Pete is mentioned there by name. Again dialogue is undifferentiated, although in English. This creates less pauses and a greater sense of the immediacy of these events. There are images which are surrealistic and jarring. This could be an illustration of the delirium due to his wound, “the bullet itch frozen in my head.” Each of these different sections serves to bring the reader into the story through experiencing what the characters are, instilling a sense of normalcy and then one of disorientated hallucination.  

Whoever Claims It Hardest, Remembers It Most Obsessively Critique

              The title seems disconnected from the story.  The entire story seems like a prologue or introduction. It branches from an unnamed “we” to an “I”, which it maintains until the last paragraph.  The shift back is marked with a paragraph of realization, a universal application of the “value” of bathrooms. This could be added to with a description of the complete universality- perhaps describing the vastly different natures of bathrooms that still have this inherent value- run down as well as ritzy, high-end ones- as well as examining other instances of this- life changing events, for better or for worse, an addict’s first hit and things like that.  I am interested in the qualities that make this value- what is required. I want to hear more of the “hues of bygone misgivings and unforeseen insights” and how they are tainted. The second to last sentence dubs “us” the “lucky ones” as “dwellers of this world” (which itself begs the question as opposed to what world) but does not include any mention of the unlucky ones. There is an entire unexplored group here, which I though could add a lot to the piece in contrast to the opening. Overall, the whole thing is a complete thought but seems slightly rushed and lacks any catharsis or even much of a buildup.  This is a good start but it seems like there is more to explore in what you’re trying to say. 

The Memory Book Critique

The experiment here is clear but vague simultaneously. Readers understand the gist but are left out of the particulars. The language is excellent and so much is said in so few words. The repetition serves to bolster the idea of memory, but I found it unnecessary, especially the mention of her being “old” when such a vivid image was painted for readers just prior to that statement. The woman sees “The Memory Book” and her zest for life is renewed, but we are unsure what exactly she sees, besides a photo of her father. I wonder if perhaps the photo could be left even more ambiguous, so that the readers fills in the gaps with their own experiences, a mention of something both wonderful and horrible, but a change in the ending might be necessary. At the end she sees her father, which then brings a lot of questions She is old, so presumably he is even older or merely a figment of her imagination. Was her vigor removed because of a happy memory or the memory of what she survived? She falls out of a window, startling since it wasn’t previously mentioned that she was even on a story higher than the first. There is also a conflict with how the mouse seems to enter so casually “from outside” when she is on a floor higher than the first. But I did like how the mouse leads to the rest of the story. 

Overlap Critique

I think the experiment is very clear here in the literal overlap of past and present. I wonder if the line could some how be blurred a bit more. I really like the ending, although I saw it coming. I am curious about the exact  period of the Verdermaines’, which could easily be remedied. I also want to know what happened to Amelie’s first child to survive birth. The shift in time periods is very clear, which is good. However, the inquiries at the end are only partially answered, which is disappointing. Amelie seems to have an interesting relationship with her daughter, as describing Patrice as “the child” seems detached but she remembers their time together fondly. Simultaneously, she wishes the child had never been born. Charles seems the epitome of the present, with his finger on the pulse of society as a journalist. Part of me is curious about whether his apartment is a modern style or some sort of imitation of older architecture, which might be something to play with. I wonder if there could be more ties to him and the Verdermaines. The implication at the end is that the discovery of the coffin, though not disturbing to him (which it might be to most people—something else about Charles I’m curious about) left a lasting impression and he will most likely write about it. Yet, curious as he is, he does not inspect the coffin out of respect, which is somewhat understandable.

New Year’s Page Critique

                The piece seems to be experimental in the form, a stream of consciousness piece, like something someone would write with insomnia. This makes me think of the limbo between asleep and awake, with tired eyes and restless mind. Occasionally the long words and looping sentence structure reinforced by frequent commas lure the reader into this non-alert awake-ness. The title brings to mind New Years, which, like almost any other holiday, can mean celebration and drunken cheer for some and solitude drunken misery for others. I get the sense of a groggy, grumpy “I am awake and I shouldn’t be,” which is only supported by the dream like images and phrasing. There seems to be a lack of understanding, a second guessing of the speaker by him or herself, such as when “she wept with joy, although quite possibly she did so for some other reason”.  The words seems to push the reader faster along the page, pulling only the strongest images and stringing them together like some sort of haphazard snowflake chain.  There is so much imagery bombarding the reader it is akin to having their face handled and pointed in varying directions with dozens of voices prompting them to look a tone thing or another. In this way, the reader is rushed along through surreal image after surreal image, barely finding time to stop at the end, which is ironically pinched off at “The story keeps on going…” though this is an excerpt. 

The Hand of Justice Critique

The experiment is clearly in the form , a file of the FBI. The speaker seems to want to confess to murders for “justice” and the sake of the families of those he murdered. I think this is curious because he does not mention their names. I think it would be interesting if he refused to give them names because of his lack of respect for them, but he still refuses to give them any individual identification. I think most people with this requirement to enforce morality are usually very holier-than-though, self-righteous types, which I don’t see here much. He just seems nervous, which makes me wonder how premeditated the murders were. They seem like he was prepared for them mentally, he knew what he was going to do, but he didn’t physically prepare for them, as he stored at least of the bodies in a shed. Sans hands, apparently, which is I think something you could play with in regards to the title. I almost want him to say he placed them in some strange place or position—like on a scale, and start laughing. I want to see him snap, or at least exclaim some of the dialogue on the second-to-last page. The one thing that really, bothers me though is the ending. It seems like a new beginning and there’s just so much there that is completely ignored. I want to hear what he thinks, what drove him to this.

Charlton Heston Critique

I think the opening, separate from t he “main” story though it may be, is a nice exposition. I am curious about the time passing between the two incidents and the first’s effect on the second. Why was he thinking about it that day? Why not every time he passed the Lounge? I can easily imagine that thoughts of the gun didn’t leave him during that Spongebob episode, like it haunts him.

The lack of mention of any significant time passing gives the impression that the gun leaves a lasting impression on Charlton. This could be intentional or not. It makes the ending seem so much more inevitable. I like that the ending is so abrupt, like a gunshot itself. One second, and we’re just looking at the aftermath. There could be another way to play with time, like in action movies, where time freezes—it could mention everything being done in that one second before the impact. Is it perfectly timed with the squeal of the other child?

I could see the experiment in the surrealism of the cartoon eagle owning and operating the lounge. I think the childlike perspective could be played with a little more- Did Charlton ever play with realistic-looking water pistols? Did he initially think a gun was some sort of tool or toy before he saw the film? Is he allowed to watch action movies? He seems different from other kids, though. He seems detached when speaking to Dennis. 

Letter from the Front Critique

This piece contains an interesting backstory, but I am curious as to why this reveal in particular is chosen.  It isn’t until the end that the readers slowly get more and more understanding of the nature of the war. In fact, the first mention of the Canadians was unclear to me, as I thought “the Cands” was a pet name for some general or higher-up. I think it would add to the realism to have Josh discuss some of his fellow soldiers, more of their inside jokes and how they interact in such trying times. Tough times though they may be, a soldier would , like Josh said, not want his wife to worry, and it would be a way to uplift the mood slightly. I would like to hear more- even further origins to the war could be explored, such as Josh wondering how the industries could not foresee these problems when they…etc, etc. This letter is clearly taking place a long time from our own and it has taken a while to get to this extreme need for water. I wish I could see more buildup to it, though I don’t know how possible that would be, given the format. I think the voice is very accurate for a disillusioned soldier in how he converses with his wife. I think that military letters are examined and censored, so I do not know how effective his wife’s news on war would be.

Incident Report Critique

                I can clearly see the experiment here and I like it. The unnamed-yet-clear narrators bring a new flavor to the story. The dialect was spot-on, but its spot at the opening colors the piece somewhat, setting it up differently. Readers assume the school to be public with less educated kids. Given the slightly different and just as well done dialects later on (which was well executed), this was intended. One character might be stretching it a little in my opinion, which I marked (second page).  I think the character’s voices really shine through in the writing and they are almost visible to me even just reading their words. I am fascinated with the idea of different perspectives and the hint of a prior conflict between the two characters discussed, real or imagined. However, the story seems unresolved. Was there actually a conflict? There is no satisfaction in the ending, no catharsis, not even a sense of disappointment. There’s just emptiness. It almost doesn’t feel like an ending, like it’s unfinished. Beside the nature of the conflict, accidental or intentional, I am also curious about the students’ ages. Are they in high school? I thought the addition of mentioning Coach Trey and then having him speak was well-done, as it was clear who was speaking, but less was done with it than could have been. There seemed to be some tension between him and the boys, which was left discussed. I would have liked to read more.

Hamsun Critique

I find it hard to categorize this piece as experimental. While I would not call it mainstream by any means, I do not see it exploring any new styles or techniques. It in fact seems reminiscent of Earnest Hemingway’s plain style, just simple facts and observations. There is no description of what the men are doing while they are talking; it simply relates the events as they occurred. It was the somber tone which pulled me to this piece in particular. I liked how it felt like a story someone older would tell you. Not as a bedtime story, but as equals, the kind of story they would hide from you as a child. The setting also helps with this image of something distant from my understanding that fascinates me, knowledge yet untapped.  Not much details or descriptions, just what happened. Ironically, this is probably the most common type of storytelling available, though perhaps not so much in writing. I enjoyed the piece. It felt complete in an incomplete way. Less like a chapter ripped out of a book but more like a story that ended too soon due to a tragedy, such as the one depicted. That’s what I really like about it.  I hope to imitate that someday, but I do not feel ready to attempt it just yet, as I find endings the most difficult part of a piece.  I find it successful as a piece, but not as a piece of experimental fiction. 

S.O.S. Critique

To start, I enjoyed the title. This piece is very detailed, sometimes oddly so. In some places it works and makes the piece a little more real but other times it distracts from the piece, as it is unnecessary and adds nothing. For example, the mention of the leaves on the tree never falling seems slightly eerie, but doesn’t create any suspense about the stranger (not to mention, he’s only been on the island for 3 months and the season wasn’t mentioned). However, small hints in the writing of the disorientation of the men on the island are very immersive in their mindsets. There was some trouble with the past and present in certain sentences, which I marked.

The format of the piece was a little confusing. I understand why the names were placed at the end but once I forgot who was speaking and wondered why they mentioned the footprints twice. I wonder what form the reader is supposed to assume- are these letters? Are they written to someone? Would first person better accomplish the ending.

I loved the twist and did not see it coming at all. At the same time, I’m curious about the personality split- could this have been prompted by some head trauma? Could one mention a bloodied rock where he awoke after hitting his head when he appeared on the island? It seems odd that Peter recognized the clothes while “James” doesn’t but I would grant a willing suspension of disbelief. Could there be more behind “James’” compulsive sorting? Overall, I enjoyed this piece very much and would love to read more.

One Night: 750 Words and Then Some Critique

My first attempt at an experimental review. I'm actually quite proud of it.
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I don’t have much written on my paper so I’m just going to go with it, as I’m sure the writer would want. This piece makes me feel like I’m floating…no, flying…quickly into nothingness. I imagine  a matrix-type computer code tube around me for no other reason than because it’s cool. There are words floating…no, zooming, by and I’m desperately trying to grab any one at all, but failing (and flailing) miserably.  Occasionally one smacks me in the face and leaves me stunned. Quite often, actually. “Wait…what…but…uh…weed!?” I sputter, cradling my nose. It occurs to me yet again that I am far too sheltered. And finally, there are a series of fragments, short but comforting, to grab. Everything from literary magazines past flows back in a release of cool air, although with a tangy smell tinged with urban decay. I’m used to such fragments about country life, after all. But, alas, my fragments depart, leaving me again tumbling through the void. Cliché as it is, they left as quickly as they came. But they came back, my saving grace! I smack face-first hard into a wall of text but can only mumble, my mouth full of blood and tainted childhood, “Thank you.” I rush to the final emotional hit which hits me hard and leaves me breathless. I’m finally given what I craved. The final crash is so...abrupt. Emotional. Satisfying, in a strange way. Some sort of victory music plays.

Weekly Fiction 1: In Medias Res

Experiment with story-within-a-story, based on Julio Cortazar’s The Continuity of Parks

I admittedly let the ending slap me in the face like a moth on a windshield. Not my favorite thing I've written by any means. I think it is cheesy, but it's a parody so that's kind of what it's going for. I wish this wasn't my first post on here, but alas.

~900 words

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In Medias Res

            Randolf had just won his first duel when the subway came to a screeching halt . Sharona wanted to screech when she realized she had to put her book down yet again. She was truly falling for this spirited youth. The image of the sparkling rapiers clashing together made her heart thump. It seemed so real to her. She supposed it was the screeching of the tracks and shrugged off this lingering image as best she could.

            She tried to focus on her schoolwork as best as she could, but when she glanced at her book bag, the ornate gold-leafed cover seduced her, winking at her even under the dull fluorescent lighting of the classroom. She hastily scribbled her answers, all concern for correctness forgotten, and nearly lunged at the tempting tome. She cracked the book open and was immediately sucked into the Elizabethan world of Randolph’s, with the swarthy Spaniard pirates, the elegantly dressed ladies, and, of course, the object of her affections, the charming Randolph himself. She delved deeper into his life, examining facets of his personality like a precious diamond. He did indeed have many facets.

            Though he was the son of a Duke, Randolph Worthington was not afraid to get his hands dirty, often aiding his father’s serfs in what little ways he could. He protected the women from the vicious Spaniard threats and was an avid patron of the theater, even Shakespeare himself. Sharona admired his culture, kindness, and strength. She was a bit distressed when the conflict came about: despite being engaged to a wealthy Baroness, he had fallen in love with one of her handmaids. Her heart keened to the strum of his lute when he played a tune for his lover, a tune she could almost hear wafting around her, enveloping her in sensual folds.

            She couldn’t bear to look when Randolph stood before his parents, about to proudly declare his love for Margaret and, unable to stop reading, she forced herself to shut her eyes tight, even pulling her hands to her face. He couldn’t marry her! She could practically see him in the main court of his castle, holding the hands of the cowering Margaret, her plain gown in contrast to the Duchess’, which was gilded to the ruff. She twitched and something moved near her face. She flinched.

            A fan fluttered in her hand. The movement brought all the eyes in the room toward her. Randolph’s mouth dropped open, his teeth white as the pearls on the wall tapestry.  “Who might you be, bold maiden?”  the duchess cried, hands on her hip, indignant at being interrupted. “I am…be…S…s…Cybil.” Sharona said, thinking quickly, “Daughter of…the Lord and Lady of….Canterbury.” She struggled to keep a straight face. “Fair Maiden…” Randolph cried, dropping to one knee before her, “Upon thine visage I see a coral blush so fine, as a rose before the bloom, seated daintly above thine chin and below such a divinely sculpted nose as e'en to turn an angel green about the face and neck.”

            Sharona’s head spun…green…sick? No…envy! An angel! Envious of her! She grew haughty. “Thou speaketh boldly, for an acquaintance so…recent,” she spoke falteringly. Her mind raced to think of Elizabethan words. She threw in a sidelong glances and fan wave during pauses to counter her halting thoughts. Randolph  Worthington was enchanted.

            Then the bell rang. Sharona stood for a moment, in shock, as the rest of the class filed out. She looked down to her book, which had been moved forward 10 pages. She didn’t remember a thing outside of her fantasy. She shrugged and followed her classmates.

            Though she was conflicted, itching to read yet hesitant to watch her love marry another, Sharona didn’t open the book again until safely inside her room. As she laid eyes on the page, an expansive lawn unfolded before her, with Randolph lying in the warm sun while she sat on the side of her legs. She was only slightly uncomfortable in her starched dress. He strummed his lute again, this time for her. “Thou art my muse, inspiration for mine every breath and bringer of laughter and song unto mine heart, an angel fair gracing me with the divine light of the heavens.” He spoke earnestly, looking into her eyes. She was unable to tear her gaze away and never looked back.

            It was hours before her parents noticed, thinking she was up in her room doing homework. It wasn’t until dinnertime that her mother went to get her. “I yelled, I shook her…nothing happened! She just kept staring!” She sniffled into her handkerchief. “Probably shook her too hard! ‘Caused this…what is it, doc?” Her father said gruffly. “Catatonic state.” The doctor replied, not looking up from his clipboard. “Where did you get this anyway? You don’t need to waste water laundering hankies. Use a damn Kleenex. Doc says she’ll be fine, anyway.” The father continued, tossing the linen into the trash can as the doctor turned to Sharona’s limp form in the hospital bed. He combed his hand through his hair, walking out the room. Sharona’s mother looked from side to side and gently picked up the handkerchief. She folded the initials R.W. inward and slipped it daintily in her pocket before walking out, “Rodger, have you seen my book? The one that Sharona borrowed?”