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She was no more than nine or ten years old, a little twist of mischief and delight. She stepped out of the forest and into the clearing with a threadbare toy ostrich swinging from one hand. A ladybug was cupped in the other, and her eyes were fastened upon it with great seriousness. She took no notice of me at the picnic table. It was moments after sunrise, and the clearing was still in shadow. My dog cocked his ears at her and stretched himself to his feet. She noticed that. She brought the ostrich and the bug closer to her thin body and cradled them there, as though to protect them. Her t-shirt was far too big. Her arms were lost within its sleeves like slender spars in a furled sail. Her pale face was smudged and her hair was tangled. She had the unkempt look of a child who hadn't waited
[This message has been edited by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (edited December 13, 2008).]
posted
I like it...i would read more about your MC.....others might find too many references to the little girl but I don't Posts: 690 | Registered: Oct 2008
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I'm delighted you like the beginning...the story gets quite dark...the little girl is a ghost, murdered by her evil stepfather, and the MC is the only one who can see/hear her.
Posts: 11 | Registered: Dec 2008
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quote: She [Who?] was no more than nine or ten years old, a little twist of mischief and delight. She stepped out of the forest and into the clearing with a threadbare toy ostrich swinging from one hand. A ladybug [How could someone distant have known what the little girl was looking at? let alone something small like a ladybug.] was cupped in the other, and her eyes were fastened upon it with great seriousness. She took no notice of me at the picnic table. It was moments after sunrise, and the clearing was still in shadow. My dog cocked his ears at her and stretched himself to his feet. She noticed that. She brought the ostrich and the bug closer to her thin body and cradled them [there, as though to protect them<--Don't need this. It goes without saying why she did it.]. Her t-shirt was far too big. Her arms were lost within its sleeves like slender spars in a furled sail. Her pale face was smudged
A short story needs to identify its genre in the first thirteen lines (1st story page), which this fails to do. I cannot tell where this is going, what time period it's in, what planet it's on, what the possible conflict might be, or who any of the characters are.
I don't see a speculative element (which is okay if you warn us it's not a speculative story). I saw a follow-up where you said she's a ghost; there needs to be some indication (maybe from the dog, they are very sensitive to their surroundings) that something's not right. We need to be pulled in by the protagonist's suspiscions or fears, but at the least his or her feelings.
Hope this helps.
[This message has been edited by InarticulateBabbler (edited December 13, 2008).]
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IB, thank you for the specifics! I've been wondering why this story feels somehow...unconnected. It's good to have some concrete input. (What about a REALLY BIG ladybug? ) I'll try to be equally useful in my upcoming critiques, although they've never been my strong point. Once again, thanks!
Posts: 11 | Registered: Dec 2008
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I like your descriptions, but then I like descriptions. "a little twist of mischief and delight" is a great line. I would break the paragraph at "She took no notice of me...
I agree with IAB's comments that the dog is a perfect time to bring in the speculative element. That would let us know that there is something very different about her. It wuld also be good to understand why the narrator is at a picnic table at dawn? Seems odd enough to to explain. Unless he is walking the dog...I guess.
As much as I like the descriptions, I would get to the action after she pulls the toys to her to protect them, and save her t-shirt description for later.
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The picnic table near the forest was enough to tip me off that we're probably in post-1950s America. It pretty much has to be a forest preserve. I immediately pictured a bike path, a soccer field, BBQs made from oil drums cut in half, and one of those goofy buildings that's really just a roof and no walls set over a cement floor.
I generally agree with the rest of IA's comments, though.
You absolutely have to give the girl a name. If your reason for not doing so is that the POV character doesn't know her name, then you lose your great line, since he doesn't know she's "a little twist of mischief and delight".
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I thought your description of the girl was very intriguing. I got fatigue of description pretty quickly, though. There's only so much I can take in at once, especially while in suspense about what kind of story this is, and what kind of person is narrating.
"as if protecting them" is about where I was maxed out, btw.
I think you need to save some of it for after we get into the MC's head a bit, especially if you're sending this to short story markets.
[This message has been edited by ArachneWeave (edited December 22, 2008).]
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) I'll try to be equally useful in my upcoming critiques, although they've never been my strong point. Once again, thanks!
