Today, I’m sharing the first page of a story from another brave author, who shall remain anonymous. Thank you, bold author for taking a risk to seek feedback on your story.
The story is set in 1970 and describes a soldier returning from Vietnam. What follows is the original as submitted. My critique follows.
Berkton, Indiana
June 1970
Leith Fleming stared up at the small-town church building before him, taking in the familiar sight of the peeling blue paint and the tall, white steeple. The double doors were open, and people, dressed up in their Sunday best, streamed in, talking and laughing.
“Whatcha waitin’ for?” Mary asked, and Leith looked over at his wife and grinned.
“Just thinking about how everything’s just as it was before. See? Mrs. Gladford’s even wearing that same yellow dress that makes her look like a duck.”
“Leith!” Mary exclaimed, sounding both appalled and amused.
“Weawy?” Noah asked, his blue eyes going wide. “She’s a duck?”
“Now look what you’ve done, you chump,” Mary scolded. “No, Noah. Mrs. Gladford is not a duck.”
The three-year-old looked disappointed. “Oh.”
Leith just laughed. “Com’on, we’d better hurry, or they’re gonna start without us.” He started forward, ignoring Mary’s muttered comment about how she wasn’t the one wasting time calling people ducks.
But even as they settled in their pew, Leith couldn’t help but feel as if something was… off. He’d expected more of a greeting after being gone for a year, yet only a few people had acknowledged him back
After the sermon, Leith and his family joined the stream of people filing out of the church. There was a picnic, so everyone headed to the long, food-loaded tables set up on the lawn.
Balancing a plate in one hand and a cup of lemonade in the other, he squinted in the bright June afternoon light and scanned the crowd for his family. He quickly spotted them sitting under the sprawling oak, Mary trying to have a conversation with another lady, all while juggling a plate full of food and a restless Noah.
Leith headed over with a grin tugging at his mouth. Carefully setting his food down on the grass, he scooped Noah up and hoisted him with ease onto his shoulders. The boy giggled with glee, wrapping his small hands around the front of Leith’s shirt.
At the sound of Noah’s laugh, Mary looked up. Her gray-blue eyes twinkled at the sight, and a smile lit up her round, pretty face.
Here’s my critique:
Berkton, Indiana
June 1970 Good way to anchor us in place and time
This story has the feel of a strong beginning. I like how you plant seeds of tension and foreshadowing. People not welcoming soldiers home was a very real part of the culture in 1970s. Soldiers weren’t honored or treated with respect. It was like they were held responsible for the decisions of the government leaders. Also gives a hint about PTSD being a problem in the ongoing story. Very subtle plant—well done.
The major comment I have is I think the writing could be tighter. Some words are unnecessary or redundant.
Leith Fleming stared up at the small-town church building [unnecessary word–readers will assume it’s a building—trust them to get it] before him, taking in the familiar sight of [feels redundant after using ‘stared’ already in the sentence] the [tighten] peeling blue paint and the tall, white steeple. The double doors were open, and people, dressed up tighten in their Sunday best, streamed in, talking and laughing.
“Whatcha waitin’ for?” Mary asked. and Leith looked over [unnecessary word] at his wife and grinned.
“Just thinking about how everything’s just as it was before. See? Mrs. Gladford’s even wearing that the [ 2 ‘that’s in close proximity] same yellow dress that makes her look like a duck.”
“Leith!” Mary exclaimed, sounding both appalled and amused.
“Weawy?” [interesting word choice—it did stop me before I figured out Noah has a speech impediment—maybe ‘weally’ might fit better] Noah asked, his blue eyes going [unnecessary word] wide. “She’s a duck?”
“Now look what you’ve done, you chump,” Mary scolded. “No, Noah. Mrs. Gladford is not a duck.”
The three-year-old looked disappointed. “Oh.”
Leith just [words like ‘just’ are filler words that usually don’t add anything to the story laughed maybe use ‘chuckled’ to break up using ‘laughed’ too often]. “Com’on C’mon, we’d better hurry, or they’re gonna start without us.” He started forward, ignoring Mary’s muttered comment about how she wasn’t the one wasting time calling people ducks.
But even [I think the line is tighter without this opening] As they settled in their pew, Leith couldn’t help but feel as if something [feels wordy – how about ‘feeling something’] was…off. He’d expected more of a greeting after being gone for a year, yet only a few people had [avoid passive verbs] acknowledged him back [feels vague] his return from the war. [Question: is he in uniform? Not important but might help set the stage if he’s adjusting his uniform before the enter the church. If he is, then ‘him back’ works fine.]
After the sermon, Leith and his family joined the stream [used this word earlier – can you come up with something different] of people filing out of the church. There was a picnic, so everyone headed to the long, food-loaded tables set up on the lawn.
Balancing a plate in one hand and a cup of lemonade in the other, he squinted in the bright June afternoon light and scanned the crowd for his family. He quickly spotted them sitting under the sprawling oak, Mary trying to have a conversation with another lady, all [tighten] while juggling a plate full of food and a restless Noah.
Leith headed over with toward them, [just a suggestion for word flow] a grin tugging at his mouth. Carefully setting his food down on the grass, he scooped Noah up and hoisted him with ease onto his shoulders. The boy giggled with glee [feels redundant], wrapping his small hands around the front of Leith’s shirt. [Hard to visualize if he’s on his dad’s shoulders.]
At the sound of Noah’s laugh, Mary looked up. Her gray-blue eyes twinkled at the sight, and a smile lit up her round, pretty face.
And here is the revised version incorporating my suggestions:
Berkton, Indiana
June 1970
Leith Fleming stared up at the small-town church before him, taking in the peeling blue paint and the tall, white steeple. The double doors were open, and people, dressed in their Sunday best, streamed in, talking and laughing.
“Whatcha waitin’ for?” Mary asked. Leith looked at his wife and grinned.
“Just thinking about how everything’s just as it was before. See? Mrs. Gladford’s even wearing the same yellow dress that makes her look like a duck.”
“Leith!” Mary exclaimed, sounding both appalled and amused.
“Weally?” Noah asked, his blue eyes wide. “She’s a duck?”
“Now look what you’ve done, you chump,” Mary scolded. “No, Noah. Mrs. Gladford is not a duck.”
The three-year-old looked disappointed. “Oh.”
Leith chuckled. “C’mon, we’d better hurry, or they’re gonna start without us.” He started forward, ignoring Mary’s muttered comment about how she wasn’t the one wasting time calling people ducks.
As they settled in their pew, Leith couldn’t help feeling something was…off. He’d expected more of a greeting after being gone for a year, yet only a few people had acknowledged his return from the war.
After the sermon, Leith and his family joined the flow of people filing out of the church. There was a picnic, so everyone headed to the long, food-loaded tables set up on the lawn.
Balancing a plate in one hand and a cup of lemonade in the other, he squinted in the bright June afternoon light and scanned the crowd for his family. He quickly spotted them sitting under the sprawling oak, Mary trying to have a conversation with another lady, while juggling a plate full of food and a restless Noah.
Leith headed toward them, a grin tugging at his mouth. Carefully setting his food down on the grass, he scooped Noah up and hoisted him with ease onto his shoulders. The boy giggled and wrapped his small hands under his father’s chin.
At the sound of Noah’s laugh, Mary looked up. Her gray-blue eyes twinkled, and a smile lit up her round, pretty face.
What are your thoughts about the changes I suggest? What did I miss? What would you have done differently?
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