Hello Josh,
I am reviewing your short story, "On The Shore"  , which I found under "Browse by Type." The description and genre piqued my interest.
First, I would like to start by saying that the following statements are simply my suggestions and my sharing of things I've been taught.
Second, I really like this story. It is short and could definitely be expanded upon to make a longer story or even a novel.
So, here are my suggestions.
Standing there, with my bare feet in the wet sand, for a passing moment, serenity filled my soul.
My suggestion: The wet sand enveloped my bare feet, and for a passing moment, serenity filled my soul.
Then, as I did every morning since I arrived on the island a few days ago, I went to the big rock, sat down, and waited, hoping that somebody might come or something might happen.
My suggestion #1: Just as I did every morning since I arrived a few days ago, I went to the big rock, sat, and waited, hoping someone would come along or something might happen.
My suggestion #2: I went to the big rock every morning since I arrived a few days ago. I sat and waited, hoping someone would come along or something might happen.
(Someone else gave me a tip about the words down or up. We all know we sit “down” or stand “up,” so it’s not always necessary to state that. This is a rather long sentence, which I believe, slows down the pace. You could separate them into two sentences. But, as this is your writing, it’s totally up to you.)
On the first day, as I was sitting there, a dog came to me. It was a Labrador. He stopped a few steps away, barked and wagged its tail as if he wanted to tell me something. We were looking at each other for a while, then he ran off to chase the seagulls, throwing sand and water into the air. A woman, presumably his owner, was watching from a distance for a while, but did not come any closer.
(You wrote “for a while” in the previous sentence, so look for another way to say it or remove it in the last sentence.)
My suggestion: As I sat there on the first day, a labrador came to me. He stopped a few steps away, barked, and wagged its tail as if he wanted to tell me something. We looked at each other for a while, then he ran off to chase the seagulls, throwing sand and water into the air. A woman, presumably his owner, watched from a distance but didn’t come any closer.
(We want to reduce most instances of “to be” verbs, like am, is, are, was, were, be, being, and been.) Here’s one resource I found that I believe is helpful:
https://www.blinn.edu/writing-centers/pdfs/Reducin...
I am including a resource regarding capitalizing most dog breeds. Typically, they are not capitalized unless they include a proper noun.
https://www.grammarbook.com/blog/capitalization/do...
It was the middle of September and the mornings were already cooler. Apart from the dog and the woman, there was no one on the shore. There were moments of doubt when I was not sure whether there was any point in waiting there, but something inside told me to stay. I did not know what was ahead of me, yet I was sure if I just leaned back and waited, the future would reveal its secrets.
My suggestion: Being the middle of September, the mornings were already cooler. Apart from the dog and the woman, no one else was on shore. Doubt crept in and I found myself questioning the point of waiting there, but something inside told me to stay. Unsure of what was ahead of me, I needed to sit back and wait for the future to reveal its secrets.
“Are you expecting someone? Can I take this seat?” I asked her pointing to the bar stool next to her. “I was probably waiting for you.” She said and smiled. I was not quite sure whether she was only teasing me, but I introduced myself and sat next to her. We started talking and drank some more wine. As evening fell, the bar got very crowded. “Let’s sit outside!” she suggested. “If we have luck, we might even see some falling stars.”
With conversations, each instance of a person talking is written as a new line. Take the above paragraph for example.
“Are you expecting someone? Can I take this seat?” I asked her, pointing to the bar stool next to her.
“I was probably waiting for you,” she said and smiled.
I wasn't sure whether she was only teasing me, but I introduced myself and sat next to her. We started talking and drank some more wine. As evening fell, the bar got very crowded.
“Let’s sit outside,” she suggested. “If we have luck, we might even see some falling stars.”
This helps the reader to follow who is speaking.
Also, I love Masterclass. Here’s a resource regarding writing dialogue.
https://www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-format...
I told her that I was leaving the next day, and we might never see each other again, but even if she walked out of my life, the fresh scent of spring flowers after a cold, dark winter would always remind me of her. I gave her the poem that I wrote for her earlier that day. As she read it, she started crying again, even more inconsolably than before. I tried to soothe her, I thought I could not let her go, but she left and I did not see her again.
Why would this remind the character of her? There is nothing written before now about the smell of flowers and how it is connected to her.
I was confused with how the woman knew who the man was talking about. How did she know he was speaking about her mother? They both understood him to be her father, however, she put a great deal of trust in the man, I assume, based on what her mother told her about him.
I wanted to tell her that I was so happy to have a daughter, but I just embraced her and could not say a word. Instead, I thought about the reason for my being on the island. It seemed to me that I had found a new purpose. We were just standing there holding each other for the first time, on that shore with the sound of the waves, lapping on the shore: wave in, wave out, wave in, wave out.
My suggestion: I wanted to tell her I was so happy to have a daughter. Instead, I embraced her and stayed silent. I thought about my reason for being on the island. It seemed to me that I found a new purpose. We stood there holding each other for the first time, listening to the waves lapping on the shore: wave in, wave out, wave in, wave out.
Again, I want you to know how much I liked this story. I love beach stories and this is a good one. Bittersweet. You did a really nice job. I hope to read more from you.
Thank you for the opportunity to read and review your work.
Keep on writing!!
QPdoll
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