This is an interesting tale, but I'd lay odds if we looked in Karl Menningers "Man Against Himself," we'd find the essence of this and many more cases just like it. What I find is the writer's ability to empathize with this paranoid manic depressive. Most cases like this don't end up with the psychotic person taking the life of their nemesis, but themselves instead.
This could be turned into a murder mystery with a little work. A few mispelled words, but mostly it is like a salad made from lettuce and if we're lucky some tomatoes, but nothing else. In that I'm saying bland. It needs to read with the sensations that accompany the actions. One wants to know the character is nuts, but the writer isn't. For example, one get the feeling of the actions being envisioned in the writing, but how did thoe steaks smell? How did the searing sound. How does the park strike the senses to the guy? Were the roses giving him good feelings, good sensations, or did they all seem rotten, even in some child's bouquet?
These type of subjects are great material. Just look at Alfred Hitchcock or Jerry Bruckheimer, but look also at how those guys depict it all. As writers we can make the reader smell or feel something, sense something that film cannot. As tough as it is to forget about Hollywood, we need to as much as possible. Action is action, but psychology is all about feeling not just right...
That was cute. I've seen where people like surprise endings and so do I. You had this feeling Jo wanted the house gone to begin with, but not quite in that fashion. There were a few boo boo's I imagine are typos. If you proof it again you'd likely find a few missing words the reader has to fill in. I would want to have the senses filled a bit more, say the nice smelling roses made a pleasant end to her anger.
I felt it needed some polish, but was a nice story.
You're one of those blasted rhymers! (Just kidding) Lyrics for dudes like Roger Waters are born of rhyme. Don't tell anyone, but I even rhyme now and then...
I liked the emotion expressed. It savors hatred for madness. None of us enjoy madness around us. It is tough to evven read about madness in past eras or on the breaking news. Oppression is likely the worst tool of destruction. I personally never blame the "master figure" of the day, but the origins of wars in the first place.
I always recognize a good piece that could be easily put to song. I know most young people these days (I'm heading toward 60) prefer the hip hop or rap style of poetry underscored with instrumentation. Whatever, this deserves sound.
This is interesting. What grabbed my interest was something that was said to me about my building a wind power generator in my back yard in reference to the grid going down. The people at our code enforcement said "Well, we'll all be over at your house." This does make you think a bit, but I think some is unrealistic and relies on a sudden failure of government by design, instead of by a gradual need from natural causes which wasn't addressed at all and are likely going to be a major factor before long.
The writing style is reminiscent of R. Buckminster Fuller, who found it was easier to convey meaning in short "bites." The story being about someone writing a story is always a good read. It can also be a viable excuse for leaving soemthing to be desired.
You are a good writer. This needs a little blatant reality, though, like your "Fun House." Some intrigue, some sensory depiction. The senses feel deprived for me and that made me mark you down a bit.
This kept my attention and flowed right along. An artist as well, the illustration by Heather Buckley (your wife?) is after my own ilk. I would have liked it a bit better if they'd found some evidence of an "accident" in the place. The conversation is natural. You could imagine these kids meeting the dare. This could be turned into a series of short stories in the fashion of Ray Bradbury who would probably recommend to you to write 1000 words every day. I often wonder if those of us who can actually do that had a lot of "write ... 100 times" punishments.
Before Samuel was a bed, = No comma. A period :) I had to read this three times before I stopped thinking suddenly god had turned Sam into a bed...
Don't feel bad, typos and grammos happen to us all. It's interesting, but needs a lot of polish. It may be that you chose to leave WDC to space as it will, but too much seems crammed together without any preparation, for instance the actress killing herself. This needs more intrigue to give it realism. It would seem more dishes crashing and crying of others either cut or somehow victimized by the person going "postal." Understanding Sam has a special lead to the scene, it still seems unrealistic for the reporter to show up before the police in a domestic violence scenario.
Save for the one little complaint shown above, I like your overall style. You are a descent writer. I'd expand the chapters to three times their current weight. In short, this is a good start and it will be interesting to see how you handle the god character, hopefully with a totally new version that doesn't make it seem like just another "Oh God! story.
Her heart ached for mother at times = confusing for the reader; should this be a proper noun "Mother?" or simply a mother [of these times]?
and resplendent uniforms, it at once identified them as Greek soldiers and they were bearing = (flows better): and resplendent uniforms, they became at once identified as Greek soldiers and they were bearing ...
His gaze was not [that] of which she was accustomed
Then, as his friends continued on, he slowly turned to follow but briefly looked back once again to stare at Majah. [combine to one two sentence paragraph. These standing alone seems awkward, thus distracting] Awakening to her fright Majah quickly ran back to the sewing chamber, but she could not work long as the strange encounter made her feel uneasy.
at it and dropped it into a fold of he shawl. = her shawl or the shawl?
down, he arms behind her, his = her arms?
I really liked this. The ending is so anticlimactic, so leaves it as a sad tale. The writing is excellent. A few sentences are unsupported, although, as a writing individual, the temptation to isolate a fact always exists. Most of the boo boo's are merely editorial. This can be fixed. It needs an epilogue or something to tell the reader that India is not so brutally plagued by Greek pride and plunder. If that is the case, Majah needs to be vindicated. The reader needds more.
If WDC had an "overdrive" scale, I'd give you a 5.5. Not quite a 7, but you deserve a 5.
I simply love this!! I can feel the spindrift caressing my soul. This could be the beginning of a book. Wants to have me dragging out my oil paints or maybe just some good colered pencils...
This is where I see the bottleneck: The word Gregarious doesn't seem to fit with the remaining lack of superlatives. Perhaps "Clustered" might strike the less aggressive reader as more congruent. It's a nice, dreamy regression, or so it seems, as much poetry is. I can imagine it being written around the time of Christmas or Thanksgiving, assuming you are a native born American perhaps. Contrasted to the latter suggestion, family "members" might become family "congregation," reflecting back on the other word. Gracious might become magnanimous, creating a fluid balance of the superlatives.
Consider that in the visual arts, aesthetic balance is sometimes created through the use of negative space. For instance a tiny, brilliant blue dot is contrasted by an enormous area of white or lavender or vermillion. Poetry is often like that.
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