To Cree Summerbreeze the finish line had always been a lifeless thing. At sixteen you saw the end of a race that way: a destination, a stopwatch, an outcome. Control your fear, channel your anger, win. Problem is, life’s detours don’t always come with a bright yellow warning sign. Venturing into the unknown can be a fearful thing. Grandfather always said, “Fear is like oxygen, you have to breathe it deep to blow it out.” What if we weren’t meant to run the race our way? Maybe that’s what detours are for. And maybe the finish line isn’t the end but the beginning, like an umbilical cord, and when you cut through it, you come alive, desperate for that first liberating gasp of air.
Ketchikan turned out to be one hell of a detour, the last stop on the bridge to nowhere. But it was Cree’s somewhere.
Punctuation: read this aloud if you haven't. You should be able to "hear" where you've gone wrong.
Watch the use of the word "you". If used occasionally as in the book Fight Club, (look into the stars and you're gone) it can have a nice impact, but still remain somewhat invisible. However, here, it is used so frequently I'm starting to wonder if this is second person. If that's your intent, go for it, but if not...
I'd like to know what kind of race we're talking about here. A 5k? A marathon? Life itself?
Also, I'd expect to spend a lot of time, if not the whole time, in Ketchikan as it's "the last stop".
If that's the case, move that to the first or second sentence, change it to a stronger sense of foreshadowing, then tell me it's actually a detour.
Now I've got a character - a destination - and I know it wasn't his (her) original plan, thus, this could (should) be a problem that will need to get resolved.
Axe
quote:
To Cree Summerbreeze the finish line had always been a lifeless thing. At sixteen you saw the end of a race that way (The italics can be cut or change you to he (Cree). Not every sixteen-year-old thinks this way, so the "you" is a little off-putting): a destination, a stopwatch, an outcome. Control your (cut your) fear, channel your (cut your) anger, win. Problem is, life’s detours don’t always come with a bright yellow warning sign. (I don't get yellow warning signs with the racing metaphor, maybe change to clear cut boundaries?) Venturing (off the path, maybe to keep with the racing metaphor? into the unknown can be a fearful thing. Grandfather always said, “Fear is like oxygen, you have to breathe it deep to blow it out.” What if we weren’t (I think you should keep the focus on Cree instead of generalizing, "What if he wasn't...") meant to run the race our (change our to that or his) way? Maybe that’s what detours are for. And maybe the finish line isn’t the end but the beginning (I like this), like an umbilical cord, and when you cut through it, (The umbilical cord reference doesn't work for me. Babies take their first breath before the cord is cut.) you come alive, desperate for that first liberating gasp of air.
Ketchikan turned out to be one hell of a detour, the last stop on the bridge to nowhere. But it was Cree’s somewhere.
I think all the "yous" (except grandpa's quote) should be removed so that the focus is on Cree. It seems to me that you have made a thematic promise (is that a real term?) in this opening. I don't know if this is typical of the literary genre, but I like it.
[This message has been edited by MAP (edited April 02, 2010).]