[Critique Group 1] comments from Kate

[kathryngc at juno.com]

My comments are prefaced with * (asterisk).
#Grace, Martha, and The Sleep Shirt Solution
By Kate Chamberlin
*Thank you for your useful comments to this piece.  I will be
incorporating many of your suggestions.
 
#Late One Night
by Marilyn Brandt Smith
It's Saturday night. You're home alone, with doors locked, and security 
alarm set. Suddenly you spring upright in bed because your clock says 
it's morning. 
*If you’re going to submit this piece to a professional, print magazine,
you might want to start it with the Who, What, Where, Why, and When of
journalism, eg.  
 This was no ordinary Saturday night. My husband, Roger, and son, Jay,
were away and I was alone.
   "Alexa, off,” I yelled to the monitor, trying to be heard above the
noise. Is it fire? Burglary? A false alarm?...then continue with your
excellent description of fear and questions. I'm upstairs, scantily clad.
…
 
I was there on April 16, 2016.
"Alexa, off." I call, trying to exceed the Amazon Echo's piercing 
shrieks. Funny, I don't remember that setting. The headboard beside me 
is silent. This isn't my clock, it's the security alarm. Is it fire, 
burglary, or a false alarm? I'm up stairs, scantily clad.
While I wait for the monitoring station to call, I throw on the clothes 
I wore, was it yesterday? No, my watch says it's still Saturday night.
"Is everything all right?" my new source of survival information asks.
*What is your new survival assistant?
"I don't know," I hesitate, "what are you showing?"
"Unauthorized entry, front door," she says.
"No," I sigh, "you'd better dispatch. Should I go down stairs? I guess I 
have to so I can let the police in, don't I? I don't want to go down 
there," I whisper as if she could make things better.
*The monitor said front door entry. Why go down? It’s already open for
the police.
I wait five minutes, then unset the alarm so the blaring sirens on both 
floors won't disorient me. I'm totally blind. I need to be able to hear 
if anything's going on in each room or stairway before entering.
I creep softly and uncertainly toward the unknown. The house is silent, 
only the ticking of the grandfather clock welcomes me to the foyer. I 
reach for the doorknob and deadbolt, but the front door is ajar about 
six inches. I stop dead in my tracks, "How does this change things," I 
wonder, "or does it? Should I go out and wait on the porch in case 
someone is still in here?"
Out on the porch, I listen for street noise. The police car arrives in 
another five minutes. They follow me inside.
"No sign of forced entry," he announces.
"This is a very large home," she responds.
They obtain the operational details of our alarm system, and we all 
agree it will be necessary to check the house top to bottom. I tell them 
the attic, my husband's man cave, is deadbolted from the inside so that 
search isn't necessary. Closets, storage areas, and unused rooms turn up 
no evidence of occupancy or vandalism. The computers are still here, the 
sound systems seem to be intact.
We discuss possibilities. Did someone make a key? Repairmen, former 
drivers, relatives, and friends have been in and out for the past 
twenty-seven years, with the same deadbolts in place. On the other hand, 
perhaps a good lockpicker thought no one was home and didn't know about 
the alarm. When he heard it, he ran.
Once my husband Roger accepted a ride home from our local all-night 
diner when it started raining. The guy walked to the front door carrying 
part of the food we ordered. He peeked in when Roger opened the door and 
commented about our nice furniture. He even asked to come in, but Roger 
told him we needed to eat while the food was hot. Roger mentioned this 
to me because he thought it was odd, and didn't expect the guy to be so 
curious. Did this plant a seed? Was he actually hoping to case the place?
The police offered some suggestions which I took to heart. They told me 
to call if I heard anything suspicious. I shut the door and set the 
alarm, just to make sure there were no other doors open, and there was 
nothing wrong with the system.
I breathed a sigh when they left, but it wasn't exactly a sigh of 
relief. The house probably looked vacant for the past two weeks. My 
husband and son were in southern Kentucky, about 130 miles away. The 
motor home was parked in the back yard, and the gate was locked. I 
wasn't as careful as I should have been about turning on and off lights 
in different areas, and I didn't spend much time outside. 
*There are automatic lights timers that would do this for you.I changed
all 
that immediately. For the rest of the night, to quote an old country 
song, every light in the house was on. I moved trash receptacles around, 
and items on the porches found new homes. My family returned in two 
days, then I breathed a sigh of relief. We could plan together.
Roger and Jay, my son, asked all kinds of questions to make sure I 
wasn't a dumb blonde. Could the wind have blown the door open? Not 
likely, since the storm door cut off all wind. Was I sure I used the 
deadbolt? Absolutely! When alone at home, I lock everything. Finally 
satisfied, we decided it was time to upgrade our security.
We thought about changing deadbolt cylinders, but that didn't seem like 
enough. The obvious best plan was to contact the man who installed and 
maintained our alarm over the past twenty-seven years. Over that time, 
he'd become a family friend. We'd shared trips to Texas and Florida. He 
was still in the security business, and would know the latest and 
greatest equipment and ideas.
Roger called Gregg on Monday, and he was here the next day. "Those 
snakes probably scared them off," Gregg said, knowing we still kept two 
snakes as pets from our former snake breeding business. "Seriously 
though," he continued, "let me tell you about the electromagnetic lock 
system a lot of businesses use."
The job took about two weeks of his time working nights and weekends. He 
works for a security firm which requires him to travel to nearby states 
for installations and repairs. Cincinnati and Indianapolis took 
precedence, but we now have an expensive upgrade which should keep me 
safer when they go down to the country this Summer, and which will make 
us all feel better at home or away from home.
We kept all present deadbolts in place. In addition, the first floor 
front and back doors are secured by 1200 pounds of electromagnetic 
pressure. To leave, we need only approach the door and turn the knob as 
usual. A motion detector releases the lock. To enter from the outside, 
we hold a card or fob near the reader by the door. We paid extra for my 
son to have access to the software that allows him to add new cards to 
the system, and disable lost or stolen cards. He can also access records 
of card usage.
I wanted slide lock thumb bolts on several interior doors to slow an 
intruder's journey. We didn't use cameras outside or inside. We were not 
prioritizing to locate the guilty parties, although cameras can be a 
deterrent. Our primary concern was safety for the individuals inside the 
house. Stolen electronics, jewelry, etc. can be replaced. That is the 
purpose of insurance.
We repaired the flood light in the back yard, and vowed to keep front 
porch lights on at some hours each night. We randomly change light 
patterns inside. Old glass breakage detectors provided too many false 
alarms, so we had not kept them. We installed some newer units with 
sensitivity settings which allow you to move silverware around, sneeze, 
or drop something on the floor without tripping them.
*Perhaps, it would be better not to tell the bad guys your personal home
security. Just jump to your suggestions people might want to install.
 
Granted, if someone wants to break in, they will find a way. If thieves 
are shopping your block for a house to target, why not discourage yours 
from being chosen? We have stickers on several windows around the house 
announcing our protection level.
The decision about how much money to assign for security is a difficult 
one. The homeowner's peace of mind is really the determining factor. Our 
cost to upgrade was about $3,000. Less expensive systems are readily 
available, and someone with technical and mechanical skills could tackle 
the installation independently. Many alarm sales promotions are 
available with monthly payment plans. Costs for monitoring can range 
from $15 to $45 depending on the company chosen and the features 
desired. Apartment and co-op dwellers are often provided a level of 
security. Anything additional may have to be approved by the landlord or 
owners' organization.
Whether an alarm system is chosen, with or without monitoring, some 
basic equipment and practices can offer simple and inexpensive personal 
safety. We've always used double-keyed deadbolt locks with a key readily 
available near the inside lock for escape in case of fire. A guard chain 
or a speaking tube in a storm door can offer conversational options if 
someone unexpected drops by. Speakers and intercoms also allow 
identification. Battery-operated units are easily installed. When moving 
into a new neighborhood or apartment building, it's not a bad idea to 
find out what level of security your neighbors have chosen. You don't 
want to be the only one without extra protection.
I've been living in a house or apartment as an independent adult for the 
past fifty-two years. Here are a few ideas I've gathered. Change locks 
or cylinders every few years if you've needed to let others have key 
access while you were at work or on vacation. If someone you trust is 
housekeeping, pet sitting, etc. ask them not to bring others you don't 
know into your home. Change lighting patterns every few days, even if 
you don't need the lights, so it's obvious the house is occupied. If you 
have not scheduled a visitor or repair person, don't admit a stranger 
without verifying with a phone call that he is who he says he is. Don't 
let mail or packages accumulate. Make pickup and yard work arrangements 
if you go out of town. If someone you don't know well asks too many 
questions about your comings and goings or your possessions, change the 
subject. There's no need to be paranoid or obsessive, but there is every 
reason to be careful.
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687 words
#The Chicken the Egg and Me
by C.  S.  Boyd
*Perhaps punctuate the title with commas.  Is C. S. Boyd the professional
name you’ll be using?
slipped my fingers between the knarled
*Perhaps: gnarled or gnurledI
 sheet of tin and the weathered wooden frame of the barn door and leaning
back, used my slight 60 pounds to pull it open.  The rough wood scrapped 
* scrapped  Perhaps: scratched or scraped
my skin threatening to leave a splinter as the door yielded to my weight.
A burst of cool air greeted me providing a pleasant relief to the 
* relief to the  Perhaps: relief from the…
hot summer air outside.  Inside a rush of flapping wings and excited
squawks filled the air as frightened sparrows flew frantically into the
three large 3 
*Usually, single digits are writtin out: three
paned windows along the south wall of the enclosure.  Some escaped
immediately through gaps between the window frame and walls while others
continued to bruise their heads against the dirty glass in a frantic
attempt to find a way out.
The sun’s rays poured through the three lengthwise panes, its rays
swirling red, green, and orange in the bright yellow cloud of dust thrown
into the air by the flurry of white wings as hens fled to the safety of
the rickety wooden perch along the length of the far wall.  The sickening
sweet smell of chicken droppings and dust rose to assault my nostrils. I
waited while a light blanket of dust settled over the maze of chicken
tracks, undiscovered grain, and chicken droppings.
A large fighting game rooster stood on guard determined to prevent me
from reaching the uneven row of weathered apple crates lined up along the
wall under the windows.  Black feathers covering his body like a suit of
shining black armor.  He paced back and forth in front of me, his head
held high.  The slender red and yellow feathers on his head and neck
stood out in a vivid spray of color.  The bright red crest on top of his
head stood erect showing his determination that I should not pass.
.  I had no doubt that he would defend his domain to the death (probably
mine) if necessary.
Despair crept into my soul as I contemplated the long journey before me. 
The rooster stopped directly in front of me.  Daring me, I knew, to take
a step and die.  I knew I couldn't return to the house without the eggs,
mother would never believe there weren't any and would just send me back
to try again.  I stood trembling before this determined guardian and
wondered if it would hurt very much.  I shook so hard the grocery sack I
held by my side began to rattle.  Then, to my surprise, the rooster
turned and ran in a flurry of feathers and dust.
I laughed in spite of my fear realizing how easy it had been to defeat
this fearsome foe. I now walked boldly toward my goal.  I knelt beside
each box in turn gathering the eggs into the sack.
A cackle from the hen in the box at the end announced the laying of a
fresh egg.  Coming to the last box, I knelt down and gently reached under
the hen to get the newly laid egg.  The hen pecked at me before jumping
up and running from the box.  Surprised, I jerked my hand back and got a
splinter from the old wooden crate.  Ow! The injured hand went instantly
into my mouth.  I tasted blood mingled with dust and spat the
disagreeable mixture on the ground.
I picked up the egg.  It felt warm and sticky in my grasp and, to my
surprise, it yielded to the slight pressure of my fingers like a small
bag of jelly. 
"Ugh! How can I put this in the sack? How can I get it to the house
without breaking it?” 
As if in answer to my silent questions, the egg dried and hardened in my
grasp.  I ran my fingers over it and found no impressions where my
fingers had been. Brushing away a small amount of dirt I found stuck to
the bottom, I felt the contrast  between grainy sand and smooth shell and
marveled at the complexity of the small fragile object I cradled in my
hand
*What wonderful imagery and descriptions. Your use of the five senses
brought the barn, the chickens, the rooset, the little girl’s fright,
triumph, and then, wonder at the egg’s shell firming up as she held it
were all wonderful. Are there more memoirs like this one?
 
#Which Breed Is the Best Dog?
DeAnna Quietwater Noreaga
(I saw this question on Facebook as a forwarded item without a byline
making a comparison between Labrador and golden retrievers. I added the
German Shepherds and expanded the comparisons.)
DeAnna Quietwater Noriega
*Will the real spelling of your last name, please come forth.
Golden retrievers must be touching you at all times. Labs want to touch
you at all times. German Shepherds have to see you at all times. If they
had a job, Golden retrievers would be social workers. If they had a job,
labs would be stand up 
* stand up  Perhaps: stand-up
comedians. If they had a job, German shepherds would be nannies. 
Golden retrievers must be Catholics; they understand the need to confess
their guilt. Labs must be protestants, “What guilt?” German Shepherds
must be agnostics, “I only did what was necessary.” 
Golden retrievers need attention. Labs want attention. German Shepherds
demand attention. 
If Golden retrievers could talk, they would be constantly saying, “I love
you! I love you! And if you came home and found a broken lamp, they would
say, “I’m a bad dog! I must have broken it even if I was outside the
whole time! Oh No, you are unhappy!”  If Labs could talk, they would
constantly be saying, “Love me! Love Me!” And if you came home to find a
broken lamp, they would say, “Broken lamp? Yup, I was having tons of fun
and I broke it! Want to see me break the other one? “If German Shepherds
could talk they would be constantly saying, “Where are you going, be
careful! Let me help you with that!” And if you came home to find a
broken lamp, they would declare, I told him not to do it, but the cat
broke the lamp anyway!” 
Golden retrievers -- long hair—on your clothes, in your food, on your
couch, in your bed … everywhere! Labs –short hair—on your clothes, in
your food, on your couch, in your bed…everywhere! German Shepherds –
multi-colored hair--on your clothes, in your food, on your couch, in your
bed…everywhere!
Golden retrievers brush daily; Labs, blow their coats at least twice a
year, take them to a groomer for a bath spring and fall, basically wash
and wear. German Shepherds are walking fur factories capable of creating
huge dust bunnies that are intelligent enough to hide until you put the
vacuum cleaner away. You might just consider giving these names and
making them members of the family. 
Golden Retrievers plead with their lovely eyes to be fed, because if food
is around they must have some. Labrador Retrievers are always hungry and
believe almost anything will make a nice snack. German shepherds refuse
to believe you really want them to eat kibble since it is obviously
survival rations to be stored indefinitely for a major catastrophe. #
*The anthromorphising of dog-alities to personalities and characterists
makes this piece whimsical and fun, giving one a smile and a warm fuzzy
feeling. It does seem to be biased toward the German Shepards, though.
The pieces I really like are the ones you re-tell about the Native
American lore.
 
#You Are the Center of Your Self Centered Universe
By Mary Jo Lord
A legend in your own mind you
make mountains of knowledge from
mole hills of experience.
You think you are the information super highway or
grand central station of knowledge.
*Well, yes, but, I didn’t know it was so obvious. I guess, the truth
sometimes hurts! lol
 
All facts and gossip start and end or are filtered through you.
With all of your focus on being or having
the best the worst, the biggest the smallest
the first the last
the newest the oldest you
don’t appreciate what you have.
like a child who is sure that someone is going to take the last cookie, 
you snatch it up before there is a chance of its being offered.
You expect invitations before there is an event.
Your arrivals and departures demand full attention of all who are
present.
No crowd is big enough to absorb your self-absorption.
“You’re so vain.
You probly 
* probly If you’re going to write in dialect with intentional
mis-spellings, use the ‘ to indicate that in print writing.
think this poem is about you.
Don’t you.”
Words adapted from “You’re So Vain” ©Carly Simon
1972
*Excellent idea to give credit where credit is due, as you’ve done here.
 
Lennard, Thank you for making this conference call possible.
Happy Writing,
Kate

Kate Chamberlin
kathryngc at juno.com
"Dream it. Write it. Read it."
www.katechamberlin.com
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