Re:Dust - 07/02/2007This one has been critiqued from another source and submitted to another magazine. I'm waiting for a reply for the summer issue of Glassfire Magazine.
Thanks though. If it doesn't go or they want more changes I'll call on you.
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
WordTickler
User Expert Boarder
Posts: 24
Karma: 0
Re:Dust - 06/29/2007Still want this critiqued? Have a current version?
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
gfralin
User Platinum Boarder
Posts: 57
Karma: 1
Re:Dust - 10/11/2006Sorry it took so long to get back to you on this. Thank you very much. Helene is doing a copy edit, but this will help me get some grammar errors and such worked out. Thanks again, I really enjoy the feedback.
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
ameliajane81
User Expert Boarder
Posts: 24
Karma: 0
Re:Dust - 10/03/2006I’ve finally gotten around to writing this critique! Sorry, have had a manic week at work and wanted to give this my full attention so it’s taken a while.
I really like the story – I love the idea of the dust storm, especially since it is something very foreign to my own life experience. The dust storm means Theresa is effectively blinded (therefore has to rely on her other senses) and is whirled up into a state of confusion; all of which you effectively convey to the reader. The story is compelling and moves at a good pace. Your style is quite direct and lacks melodrama – these qualities add to the believability of the story, and enable the reader to better identify with the characters. I also like the way the story ends, with the little twist of Theresa's guilt.
The only part of the story that left me wanting more was the scene in the hospital with Theresa and Mrs Wirth. I felt this was a crucial lead up to Theresa’s tragic secret. If that scene were to be expanded on, if the manifestations of the two women’s emotions (their facial expressions, their visceral reactions, their thoughts) were to be explored a bit more, it would add to the impact of the ending. However, this is only my opinion!
Now for the nitty gritty :
· First line: draught should be drought · End of first paragraph: (starts: Oh well it was), there should be a comma after ‘Oh well’ · First line of second paragraph: (starting: wind blew dust across the road) this sentence is a bit confusing, especially with the word ‘dust’ repeated. · About 12 paragraphs in: (starts: All three for now) should have commas after ‘three’ and after ‘least’. · Don’t know how many paragraphs! Scene where Theresa is on the phone to emergency services: (starts: Yes she was breathing), tense changes in this sentence with ‘and her leg *is* bleeding. · Scene where Theresa is talking to paramedic: (sentence starts: She felt every word catching), this sentence is a little bit confusing, and ‘word’ is repeated · Scene where police officer is talking to Theresa: (begins: “Place your head) there should be a comma after ‘bit’ and a lower case ‘h’ for He commanded. · A bit further down: (starts: “My husband works) inverted commas missing from the end of that sentence. · Scene where Theresa is talking to her husband in the hospital: (starts “No, I didn’t think about it) inverted comma should be after ‘it’, not after ‘traumatic situation’ · Next line down: (starts: “Do you think) there is a superfluous set of inverted commas between ‘for you. It’s going’ · Scene where Theresa takes the pills: (sentence starts: “I ask them), that ‘ask’ should be asked. · Next paragraph: (sentence starts: “We called the girls) that ‘girls’ should be girl’s. · Scene where Theresa is talking to police again: (sentence starts: The cars weight), that ‘cars’ should be car’s.
All of the above corrections are in order, I hope they’re easy enough to find with my explanations! I have probably missed a few things and I was only taught the bare bones of grammar in school (grammar education in Australia is appalling), so my grammar ain’t perfect by any means…
Congratulations once again on a great story.
I hope this has been helpful!
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
gfralin
User Platinum Boarder
Posts: 57
Karma: 1
Re:Dust - 09/28/2006I know exactly what you mean. Thank you for your time. There always seem to be a few typos or something missed, so I really appreciate the extra eyes. Glenda
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
FalconDance
Admin Admin
Posts: 166
Karma: 2
Re:Dust - 09/28/2006I have the same problem, Glenda. The words kinda swim on the screen if the piece's very long so I tend to have a lot of print-outs. In my case, I suspect it's a case of old-croneness, tho .
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
ameliajane81
User Expert Boarder
Posts: 24
Karma: 0
Re:Dust - 09/28/2006No worries. In short: have read and liked. Few minor typos. I can't 'think' on a computer screen so will find somewhere to print in the next week so I can give you a more detailed critique (obviously, I will dispose of any printed copy appropriately).
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
gfralin
User Platinum Boarder
Posts: 57
Karma: 1
Re:Dust - 09/26/2006Thanks A.J. I'm pretty much looking for general critique on the piece. I've edited and edited, but you know how that goes. Extra eyes are often needed to make sure I didn't leave a word spelled wrong, unknowingly commit a writing no no, forget to finish a sentence or repeat something not necessary. General stuff.
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
ameliajane81
User Expert Boarder
Posts: 24
Karma: 0
Re:Dust - 09/23/2006Hey,
If you're after a review/advice for this piece, I'd be more than happy to provide one/some. Just let me know what you're after. Do you want general stuff about storyline, or are you after more specific feedback about grammar and expression?
If you have already stipulated what you want, I apologise! I have that blindness where something is right in front of your nose but you can't see it
AJ
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
gfralin
User Platinum Boarder
Posts: 57
Karma: 1
Dust - 09/19/2006Dust Theresa’s drive home from work was plagued by the heat and dryness of the two year draught. Sweat dripped off Theresa’s forehead stinging her eyes. She wiped her hand across her brow to stop the salty liquid. Why had they bought a house on a dirt road? Oh well it was only a half mile from town.
Wind blew dust across the road in front of her as gusts sprayed the dust and debris across her windshield. Then the car started to rock as winds picked up speed. She’d seen the house not far ahead before the dust storm blinded her path and didn’t want to stop this close. She fought to steer the car to the right.
Looking for landmarks she noticed the patch of road bordered by trees on one side and then a lilac hedge on the other. Theresa inched the car forward trying to get as close as she could to the front of the house.
Suddenly she felt a bump as the car gently lurched backward. She heard a scream and felt the front tires creep over an object like a speed bump. Before she was able to stop the back tires had mounted and rolled off the obstacle.
Theresa sat in shock, unable to move. She knew she’d run over a human body.
“Oh, dear God,” she pleaded with her head turned instinctively upward.
She opened the car door only to be pushed back by the weight of the wind against the door. Covering her nose and mouth with her shirt she fought her way out. With one hand feeling along the car she swept her foot back and forth to find what she could not see. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the wind thrumming pressure into them like two armies battling against the drum.
Her foot nudged something soft. She reached down with her hand and felt a still body of something about two feet long. She felt cloth, skin…Oh my God, not Alana!
“Help” She screamed, but no one answered. “Please, help,” still no response.
She heard no sound except the wind and dirt battering against the car. Then she heard the bang of a door. Not a car door, a squeaky screen door. She lifted the bundle into her arms, feeling sticky ooze on the lower leg of the child. Theresa crept toward the sound of the squeaking, banging door. She could see maybe an inch or two in front of her, but even that little sliver was a torture of stabbing pain in her eyes.
The small burden in her arms didn’t move. Oh dear God, she prayed silently. Help me find the door and get inside.
She felt ahead of her with her unencumbered hand. Finally she felt something hard. Using touch she slowly moved her hand until she found a knob. Opening the door, she entered the house. The storm was cut off and she looked into the face of her small daughter. “Alana?” squeaked out in a whisper from her closed throat.
She automatically went into overdrive, thinking only of the first aide training she’d been through so many times. ABC – Airway, breathing, circulation. All three for now at least were working.
Dialing 9-1-1, she found a towel and checked from head to toe for wounds. She’d already moved her, but she immobilized the child anyway. “Alana?” She cried. “Alana, please wake up.”
“Robin, Robin where are you?” Theresa yelled hoping the sitter was in the house somewhere.
Alana was bleeding from a wound on her right lower leg. She was still unconscious when the operator finally answered the call.
The calm broke.
“Hello, I ran over my little girl in the dust storm. I just couldn’t see her. I can’t find my baby sitter either, and it’s still so thick with dust” – she rattled on in panic until the operator finally talked her down.
Yes she was breathing, yes she had a pulse, no - she wasn’t moving, and her leg is bleeding. She finally came to the realization that Robin was missing. Sensations of anger and fear grasped her as she thought of the young woman.
She waited an eternity with her child before the rescue unit arrived. The dust had long died down outside, but she didn’t notice because she was completely focused on Alana. Theresa finally heard a welcome small cry come from the child. The single most welcome sound that she she’d ever heard.
“Alana, Alana its mommy. Talk to me baby.”
“Hi mommy,” the child answered faintly. “Robin carry me to house? I think Robin drop me.” The child cried, tears washing streaks on her little face.
The question remained in the back of Theresa’s mind. Where was Robin?
The ambulance finally arrived, and Theresa stood aside nervously while they checked Alana over.
Everything had seemed to move in slow motion until then. Suddenly everything started whirling around Theresa at such speed her mind was grasping for coherence.
“She seems to be in pretty good condition. The leg has a tear in the skin from sliding on the road, and she has a nasty bump on her head, but she’s alert and her vitals are good. We are going to take her to the hospital if you want to ride along. It seems to calm the little ones if a parent is close. She needs to be looked at by a doctor.” The paramedic seemed to be rushing his words.
“How did you say this happened?” The paramedic asked.
“I ran over her with the car. I couldn’t see. I could have killed her. My god, are you sure she is going to be ok?” Theresa wasn’t sure if she was yelling or whispering. She felt every word catching in her throat like a lash against her heart stopping each word as though speaking was pain itself.
“She doesn’t show any signs of being run over by a car. But you did run over somebody.”
“What?” Theresa nearly screamed, but already knew the answer. “Oh lord, Robin – my babysitter. I haven’t been able to go find her because of the storm and I had to look after Alana. Is she alive? Will she be okay? Dear God, help me, I don’t know what to do.”
The room began spinning around her. She knew she was hyperventilating and gulped for oxygen.
“Lady, you need to calm down, I know it’s hard, but your little girl is sensitive to how you react.” The paramedic cautioned.
Gulping hard trying to swallow the huge lump in her throat, Theresa fought for self-control.
When they left the house, Theresa saw a large, black, zipped bag on the drive behind her car. “Robin?” she looked up at a policeman who was looking over a gruesome scene of blood and torn clothing left tangled in strips on the car’s undercarriage.
She could see a dirty red mud mixture making an oval around where a head had been. Other ghastly evidence was plaster to the scene. Theresa felt faint.
She felt one of the police officers grab at her arm and instruct her to sit down. “Place your head between your legs for a bit.” He commanded.
One of the officers described the remains of humanity without giving much detail. “Is Robin a young woman, about 18 years old?”
“Nineteen yes, she’s my babysitter.”
“I’m sorry we can’t tell you for sure, but I believe that this is likely your sitter. We’ll be down to talk to you later, but it seems pretty obvious what happened.”
Theresa’s thoughts began to slow to a manageable dull roar as she walked in a slight haze to the back of the ambulance where the paramedic was loading her small daughter.
“Here lady, you can sit here without any problems. Is there someone that we can have the hospital call and meet you there? Do you have a husband or mother or somebody?”, asked one of the paramedics.
“My husband works at the lumber mill as a supervisor.
“Is that Bailey’s lumber mill?”
“Yes, she answered.” Why did he ask her that? Bailey’s was the only lumber mill in town.
Theresa didn’t realize that the paramedic was trying to assess Alana while keeping Theresa herself talking so she wouldn’t wig out on him again. It was effective. As Theresa answered his questions the quaking of her body slowed to the point that it registered in her mind that she’d been shaking so violently.
When they arrived at the hospital emergency entrance, the paramedics took Alana in on a gurney while Theresa followed.
The doctor looked Alana over and ordered a head CT done and some lab work. The middle aged female doctor looked at Theresa and asked the nurse to stay with her while they took Alana for the scan.
“It’s ok, Mrs. Finch. Your daughter has the best pediatrician in the hospital looking after her.” The nurse informed her.
About then her husband was shown into the room. Theresa immediately broke into tears and melted into his arms. “I ran over Robin with the car. I couldn’t see her.” She gulped every other word. “I still don’t know why they were outside.”
Theresa’s husband held her in his arms until they brought Alana back to the room. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Finch, Alana has a concussion and we’ll want to keep her over night to watch her, but she seems to be fine otherwise except for some bruises and scrapes.”
The police wanted to talk to them in the waiting room, but Theresa didn’t want to leave Alana’s side. The officers agreed to let them get Alana settled. Theresa’s husband asked her if she had brought her Klonopin along with her.
“No, I didn’t think about it. Theresa took the anxiety medication daily and was allowed extra in a traumatic situation. This was without question a traumatic situation.”
“Do you think you’ll be ok without it” he asked concerned. “I can run back to the house and get a couple for you.” “It’s just going to take the edge off your nerves.”
Without waiting for an answer he rose to leave to get the medication. By the time Alana was settled, Theresa’s husband had returned.
Theresa willingly took one of the pills. Her husband told her he’d seen the police down in the emergency room. “I ask them to let you have some time to calm down. You are so tight dear you look like you could snap like a rubber band.” He remarked. Half an hour later, Theresa was in the waiting area of the emergency talking to the officers.
“We just need to get some questions answered. We called the girls family in. The Wirth’s right?” Theresa nodded. “From the scene we think we have a good idea what happened, but we need to hear from you.”
Tearfully, Theresa went through the events as best she could recall them. So much was left blank because of her own unanswered questions.
“Mrs. Finch, as far as we have figured out, it looks as if your sitter took your little girl across the road to get the newspaper before the dust blew up so hard. She was trying to get back across the road when you hit her with the front end of the car. She must have tried to throw the little girl out of the cars path. After rolling under your tires she was too severely injured to survive.”
“I killed her, I never even thought of it until now, but I killed Robin.” Theresa cried.
“Mrs. Finch,” one of the officers said softly “there will likely be an informal hearing, but we don’t see how you could have avoided it. You weren’t speeding, that’s obvious. In fact if you had been going faster, the girl, Robin, may have had a chance. The cars weight and the rolling of the tires did too much damage at the slower speed.”
Robin felt torn between anger at Robin for being outside with Alana over a newspaper, and guilt for running her over. She also knew that Robin had saved Alana by throwing her clear. Emotions were twisting together like tightly pulled braids of thread. All were in danger of breaking. There seemed to be no answer that made any sense. Just the question – Why?
“How do I ever face Robin’s parents? Robin saved my Alana’s life and now Robin is gone. I have to tell them what she did for my daughter, but I don’t know if I can face them right now.” Everything was spinning and would have flown out of control if Theresa hadn’t taken her anxiety medication.
“Oh Theresa!” she looked up to see Robin’s mother standing in front of her. She knew the girl’s mother wanted to say something more, but the tears were too thick in both their eyes.
“Mrs. Wirth,” Theresa started “I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am about Robin. If I had seen her in time…”
Finally Robin’s mother spoke. “It was such a sudden dust storm. Nobody could have been ready for that. I don’t blame you Mrs. Finch. It’s just so sad. The whole thing is so unbelievable right now.” After a few deep breaths Mrs. Wirth finally asked, “How is Alana?”
“She’s going to be ok. At least the doctor says so, but they want to keep her overnight.” Theresa replied.
The two women held each other weeping and consoling each other. They knew the days ahead would be hard, but as far as Theresa was concerned right now, Robin’s parents would always have a place in her home.
There was just one secret that Theresa didn’t tell anyone. She never even told her husband that she had time to stop when the dust storm hit. She hadn’t seen the girls because she was looking at the house. It would haunt her all her life, but she mustn’t tell anyone. It would be too devastating for them all.
| | The administrator has disabled public write access.
Forum 
:
.