[Critique Group 1] Leonard;s comments on Martia's piece for oct

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Martia 

Definitely the first person perspective is better.   

But I generally prefer that perspective, 

both to write in and for reading. 

It makes it come more alive rather than being a report ofsomeone elses  experience.  

I had a little trouble understanding the line about a PULLthat was  wide enough for your car. Isthat a colloquialism.

Ruff, ruff!

 

End of the Road

700ish words

I’m looking for opinions on point of view, first or third…

 

POV – Third Person:

 

Claudia clenched the steering wheel of her old Chevy andsquinted at the exit sign ahead. Was it the end of the road? She’d covered morethan 1,000 uncaptivating miles of interstate from Colorado to Michigan , andwhere was she? In the middle of nowhere, She groaned. 

 

Claudia had jumped at the offer, her only offer, to work asa reporter for a small town newspaper. She hadn’t bragged to her fellowgraduates about the job, but the opportunity was a thousand times moreattractive than moving back home with her parents. That would be a terrific letdown after graduating a year early from college. Why a year early? The samereason. She had enrolled in classes year round to avoid summers stuck as homewith her Mom and Dad. After 20 years, she was immune to their arguing, but itwasn’t her idea of fun to return to their crazy mind battles. 

 

. She whooped when the exit came into view. “Lake Holland,Michigan, population 7,700.” Easing off the accelerator, she veered off thehighway. Abruptly, towering trees encased the road and blocked the sun. Theroad narrowed so suddenly that she pumped the brake to avoid swerving off theedge. Lights out. She swiped off her sunglasses and was relieved to see a pull 

I don’t get the maining of a pull that was wide enough forher boat of a car 

 

out wide enough for her boat of a car. She slowed to a stopand gulp for air. If there was onething she dreaded, it was darkness,especially in the middle of the day. Born with night blindness, Claudia fearedtunnels, caves, basements and spaces that swallowed the light she desperatelyneeded to see.

 

Her pupils enlarged slowly, leaking additional detail ontothe back of her retina. 

 

“Lake Holland State Park Entrance,” read a characteristicforest service sign. That sounded enticing, but first things first. Claudiaadvanced her vehicle back onto the two-lane highway. The road turned away fromthe woods into the sunlight revealing a picturesque village nestled in avalley.

 

At first view, the village appeared to be on fire. Oak andhickory trees glowed in the fall sunshine.

 

# # #

 

Chapter One

End of the Road

 

POV First Person

 

I clenched the steering wheel of my old Chevy and squintedat the exit sign ahead. Was it the end of the road? I’d covered more than 1,000uncaptivating miles of interstate from Colorado to Michigan to launch mycareer, and where was I? In the middle of nowhere, I groaned. I had jumped atthe offer, my only offer, to work as a reporter for a small town newspaper. Ididn’t brag to my fellow graduates about the dead end job, but the opportunitywas a thousand times better than moving back home with my parents. That wouldbe a real letdown after raduating a year early from college. Why a year early?The same reason. I had enrolled in classes year round to avoid summers stuck ashome with Mom and Dad. After 20 years, I was immune to their arguing, but itwasn’t my idea of fun to return to their crazy mind battles. 

 

. I whooped when the exit came into view. “Lake Holland,Michigan, population 7,700.” Easing off the accelerator, I veered off thehighway. Abruptly, towering trees encased the road and blocked the sun. Theroad narrowed so suddenly that I pumped the brake to avoid swerving off theedge. It was lights out. I threw my sunglasses onto the dash and was relievedto find a pull out wide enough for my boat of a car. I slowed to a stop andgulp for air. If there was one thing I dreaded it was darkness, especially inthe middle of the day. Born with night blindness, I feared tunnels, caves,basements and spaces that swallowed the light I desperately needed to see.

 

My pupils enlarged slowly, leaking additional detail ontothe back of my retina. 

 

Lake Holland State Park Entrance, read a characteristicforest service sign. That sounded enticing, but first things first. I advancedmy vehicle back onto the two-lane highway. The road fortunately turned awayfrom the woods back into the sunlight revealing a picturesque village nestledin a valley.

 

At first view, the village appeared to be on fire. Oak andhickory trees glowed in the fall sunshine.

# # #

 

 
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