posted
Hi everyone, this is my second attempt at horror.
Looking for comments on the 13 or offers to read the whole thing which is 5.5k. Thanks
“You really should eat more you know. You look positively ill.” Strawberry juice ran down Auntie Peggy’s chin as she spoke. It was her fourth in as many minutes and it made Richard blanch to watch her slobber over the overripe fruit. “I’m fine, really Auntie, I just don’t have much of an appetite.” Not for the first time, Richard questioned his decision to come home. Home. Even after fifteen years he still thought of it as home. A place where time seemed to have come to a standstill; the same tin sink, the same off-white linoleum floor, the same garish red chopping board. Auntie Peggy herself seemed stuck in the same time-warp as his childhood home. She had reached that indeterminate age where women seem to cease ageing for years on end: her hair remaining
posted
It would be a horror for me to go back home after 15 years!
The mechanics of the start is OK, but there isn't a hook in this fragment that I can see... just an aunt who likes her strawberries at the ancestral estate.
I will say that in my first reading, I didn't get a strong bead on Richard as the MC. I had to read it again. The aging bit at the end was a mildly interesting observation, but certainly didn't pull me to read on. I was looking for something interesting after the strawberries, but everything basically went bland.
posted
I'll agree that the lure wasn't really that strong, but the prose is alluring in itself. I would turn the page because of this and would be glad to look it over if you need a reader. Posts: 1888 | Registered: Jan 2008
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Nice grotesque details, by the way. That and the "positively ill" bit are enough to hook me and keep me reading. Maybe I'm just easy to please as far as "hooks" go.
[This message has been edited by C L Lynn (edited March 24, 2009).]
posted
“You really should eat more you know. You look positively ill.” Strawberry juice ran down Auntie Peggy’s chin as she spoke. It was her fourth in as many minutes and it made Richard blanch [blanch seems a bit strong, queasy, perhaps?] to watch her slobber over the overripe fruit. “I’m fine, really Auntie, I just don’t have much of an appetite.” Not for the first time, Richard questioned his decision to come home [Questioned sounds rather clinical. If you have him wonder rather than question it brings us closer in]. Home. [delete?]Even after fifteen years, he still thought of it as home. A place where time seemed to have come to a standstill [“stopped”?]; the same tin sink, the same off-white linoleum floor, the same garish red chopping board. [smashing bit of detail, that] Auntie Peggy herself [delete?] seemed stuck in the same time-warp as his childhood home. She had reached that indeterminate age where women seem to cease ageing for years on end: her hair remaining [“was still?”]
The prose hook and the slightly disgusting aunt are enough to keep me reading. I'll crit the whole thing over, if you like.
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