[Critique Group 1] Leonard's critiques for April

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Cleora

 

The piece was fun.  Cleverly done. I like the humor. A lot of poetic license was taken. In this case I think its okay to do so, but I can’t help pointing out a few things.

 

One does not just wander in an excavation site. Taking an object from the site is probably a serious crime.  The chances of someone just happening upon the alleged find  is about as good as a snowball making it through July in South Florida.  I believe hieroglyphics refers to Egyptian pictorial writing. The culture represented in the writing was probably not written in hieroglyphics.  Whatever was written would probably have been done on clay tablets.  All my comments are done tongue in cheek, of course.

 

The actual add part is well done. I love it.

 

Hunter Man Meals

by Sly Duck

 

I was at an excavation site one day when I chanced upon the following stone carving tucked away in an prehistoric bag crafted from an animal skin. After cleaning it, I took it to an hieroglyphics expert friend of mine. Following is his translation.

To clean such a find would be sacrilegious.

 

hunter man meals Winter is coming, so don't delay. We'll catch, dress, and pack your prey. Easy open with knife or spear. everything from fish to deer. Comes with herb or veggie pouch just throw it together in a pot or a kettle. Discrete delivery wherever you say. Friends will marvel at your catch each day. No one will know it's not fresh kill. Others will envy your apparent hunting skill. Only one gold stone or gem each month. Free coon skin cap with paid subscription. Don’t delay, sign up today. satisfaction guaranteed. Full refund on any unopened package less than three days old.

 

Hmm... Seems advertising has always been with us.

 

 

 

 

·        As usual, I found this episode to be charming, funny and engaging.  One thing I have noticed in your writing style, at least in this chapter, is an excessive use of the pronoun, 'she.’ Try to find a greater variation in the way to describe the action.  A variation in sentence structure will add to the writing quality.

 

Chapter 12.

Three’s A Crowd

 

Three months before the wedding, Curt’s parents helped him finance a ten by fifty-five foot trailer for our first home together.  He moved in and as wedding gifts arrived, they went into daily use.  Each Saturday, I went over to clean and straighten up my new home to be.  Curt hated to do dishes because one of his college jobs was as a busboy and dishwasher in a restaurant.  Our eight place settings of dishes were piled in the sink, waiting for my Saturday visit!

 When we returned home from our wedding, Tammy and I moved into the trailer.  On the first evening, I was putting things away when I started to feel decidedly unwell.  As I finished tossing my cookies with Tammy anxiously watching from the bathroom doorway, the phone rang.  Curt had just finished a dash to the lavatory at school.  He had picked up the syllabus for his chemistry class and was headed home.  We couldn’t figure-out  whether it was flu or food poisoning, but we spent the second night as a married couple taking turns being sick.  We decided that surviving our wedding and beginning our married life with a mutual bug meant that it presaged a happy marriage.  No matter what the future held, it had to go smoother than the beginning.  

 After three years as a team, a very strong bond united Tammy and me.  She had always liked Curt and began wagging and pulling me toward him whenever we met on campus.  However, she made it quite clear that she thought he should go home after dinner.  She lay on her rug in the corner of the kitchen and gave mournful sigh,s looking toward her food dish.  As long as Curt remained in the house, she refused to eat.  He had to go for an evening stroll in order for her to touch her dinner. 

 One day when I took her out to relieve her, Tammy began digging a hole.  She had never shown an interest in digging before.  I checked to see what she was up too.  She had carried Curt’s tennis shoes outside with her and was burying them.

 She continued to greet Curt effusively when we crossed paths at school, but she turned her face to the corner and ignored him at home.  I wondered if all those psychology classes she had seemed to sleep through hadn’t taught her a thing or two about behavior modification.  Was my girl trying to use operant conditioning to train Curt to stay at school and leave us to enjoy our home without a third party?

 Poor Curt had run the gauntlet of my friends, who wondered how I could be interested in such a quiet person.  My artistic uncle felt he was too dull for me because he was a science major.  My music professor objected that I was too young to think of marriage.  When I asked how old he thought I was he guessed seventeen.  I pointed out that I had taken that first freshman music appreciation class two years earlier.  Although reasonably bright, I wasn’t a child genius so must be older than he thought.  Now, Curt had to convince a hardheaded Labrador that he wanted to take care of us both.  He hoped to make her life and job a little easier.I don’t think she thought she needed any help taking care of me.

Tammy always waited patiently for me to wake each morning to take her out to relieve her.  She soon discovered that Curt couldn’t easily ignore her desire to go out if she stood on his side of the bed and stared at him at close range.  She was too polite to make a sound or put her paws or head on the bed.  Her anxious breathing and intent stare inches from his sleeping face never failed to wake him.  Making this discovery mollified her a bit about sharing our home with a third person. She also liked strolling over to the trailer park office with Curt to get the mail.  Since she didn’t have to guide on these trips, she accompanied Curt carrying her leash in her mouth to comply with the dog on leash rule.  Being the well-behaved lady she was, she kept the correct at heel position on these walks.

 The people in the trailer park gave a potluck supper for us and decorated a money tree to celebrate our marriage.  Our neighbors were very nice and I started to do some babysitting for some of them.  Tammy enjoyed small children, but babies made her nervous.  She stationed herself near the baby and if it began to fuss, she raced to find me.  She grabbed my hand in her mouth and pulled me toward the baby.  She seemed to be saying, “Quick, it’s making noises, fix it!”  One four year old got so rowdy, that I was amused to hear Curt order, “Jeannie, sit! Rest!”  I told him that only worked with dog guides.  Although Tammy finally accepted that others would be part of our home, becoming tolerant toward them, She still felt that I was her special responsibility. The operative word here was “hers!” Even out of harness, she felt she was on duty. If she thought I was about to trip over a lawn sprinkler in the yard or bump my shins against a coffee table indoors, she rushed to take my hand in her mouth to gently guide me around the danger. If she had been able to talk and was asked what her job was, I think she would hagve said that she was my keeper! 

 

·        Upon second reading I really like this poem. But the title does not orient the reader, so it takes a while to get one’s bearings. I believe a title change could solve the problem.

 Velveteen Viviane (an ABC poem)

Marcia J. Wick, The Write Sisters

April 2018

Word Count: 86

 

Velveteen wings the color of caramel top off your bright yellow coat.

·        I think you need a pause after wings and caramel. Commas would do nicely. Also, I don’t know you are talking about a dog until the next sentence. I thought you were referring to a bird at first.

Inviting eyes framed by those soft floppy ears entice me to walk by your side.

Visions of the trails we will travel gleam through marble windows from your soul.

·        I’m assuming that the kind of marble you are talking about are the round translucent ones, and not the building material.  At this point in the poem, I don’t know that you are talking about a guide dog.  Does the marble refer to the dog’s eyes? Can you see them?

Indicating obstacles, you dance a subtle two-step and we continue on our way.

·        Now I know we are dealing with a guide dog. However, someone who isn’t familiar with guide dogs might not get it. 

Always with an eye on me, we journey like corduroy side-by-side,

·        Great line and imagery.

Never one to hesitate, you harness up to lead the way,

Ever special partners, Viviane earns her belly rub each day.

·        Powerful poem. It took me a while to realize it was a dialogue between the human and her guide dog.  Quotations around each stanza might serve as a visual cue for the sighted. A further clue might be for the dog to talk in italics and the human in regular print.  I love the complexity of the relationships in the family. It is real.

 

You and Me

·        Good title. I’m thinking that that would represent the position of both characters.

Marcia J. Wick, The Write Sisters

 

I hear you shouting, though I know it’s not at me.

You don’t see me by your side, as you cross your arms and glare.

The man who sometimes feeds me is screaming back at you.

When he slams the door, you are not alone.

·        Great paragraph. It would have helped if I knew that the canine was speaking.

You heard me yelling, but I’m not mad at you.

“Good girl, sweet pea,” I murmur, scratching velvet ears.

I plunge into the cushion, hoping to be rescued.

·        I think you were expecting the dog to rescue you from your pain, which she did.

like the Unsinkable Molly Brown,

·        I’m wondering why you chose that example.

 

I plop my furry head onto your bare feet,

Pinning you down for now, for ever.

·        What a great line.

I roll onto my back, no harness in the way

As you stroke my soft belly.

 

You cover my cold feet with your warm body,

There’s no escaping your affection.

Guiding or playing, Your devotion is true.

You soothe my hurting heart.

 

 

 

 
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