Helen asks…
May I please have an honest critique/feedback on my short story? ?
Is it interesting and is it going anywhere? May could not have come fast enough for the budding group of departing seniors from Colford University. On an evening where the euphoric skyline that draped over the jubilant grads stood still in a blend of blue and tangerine, the day was about to retire into the evening twilight. For the numerous students who packed commuter vans and walked in groups averaging 3-5, their nights were just beginning. Most were ready to let their hair down after a tumultuous month of papers, exams, and research studies. Among the gallery of white baseball caps, oversized cups and domesticated cackling, stood well known attendees at an off-campus mixer. Ellie Bowden and her group of girlfriends comprised that list. Ellie and her girls were checking out the scenery, as they had so succinctly put into their efforts of meeting men of legitimate dating material. Across the way, Brendan Rainer had his sights set on the 5'7 tawny-haired bombshell her mother affectionately refers to as 'A little Ellie-fish, about to enter the big pond of life'. Wearing a striped, button-down shirt, draped onto dreary denim jeans, and parted black hair and sideburns Brenden has had his ups-and-downs with the girl department. To his chagrin, although he valued and respected women, it has most often proved to be his Achilles heel as far as his love life was concerned. He was usually the best friend and he had long since tired of that image. Him and his buddies were also on hand kicking back in the corner and conversing. Was Ellie Bowden out of his league? Maybe. But then again, he had his gameface on. Nothing was going to stand in his way, except for two Capri-sporting, sandal-wearing, necklaced girls who got his attention first. In the traditional sense, Brendan and Ellie came from opposite sides of the tracks. In lieu of their social standing, neither lacked drive. Besides, they were graduating college next week, so things should even out smoothly. Early afternoon, Brendan woke up from a semi-drunken stupor to the hammering of the door from his father Don. Right off the bat the everso blunt, yet overprotective old man of the Rainers look his son square in the eye with a sentiment of Son, we need to talk.' For Brendan this was all too routine. Had it been a cd that lain next to his hundreds of music tapes, a more fitting title of his father's speech would be The Best of Mr. Rainer's Bullshit Lectures: Volume 1, available in both Stressful and Unnecessary.. Brendan cared much for his parents although he sought to find his own identity in his 4 years of Colford. His mother Beverly was the first to hug the first of the clan to have done anything productive past high school. She and her husband were high school sweethearts who married into their early 20s and raised Brendan when they were relatively anew to their own existence. Over the years, they had gone out of their way to bond with their kid over a variety of topics, ranging from learning to balance his own check book to sex. Brendan beyond hoped it would not be one of those talks.. Admittedly enough his estrangement from his parents at a young age was not something that would deter his parents from doing their part in raising his son with some semblance of integrity and standard. That did not always stay in tact once Brendan started his freshman year, but then again so didn't his laundry habits. How you been, dad?," Brendan asked with heavy eyes and semi-combed hair carrying a heaping helping of a month's worth of wardrobe. Just bring in the rest of your bags---you know your mom and I really missed you." He put on weight, Don," Beverly chimed. "I doubt that, honey." It's been a while since you been at school, and.we're going to have to ask that you switch to living in the basement or possibly moving out," his father relayed passively. What the hell?," Brendan stood dumbfounded. He looked to his mother with a glance in his eye seeking approval if she would be too put off that he curse up a storm. It would not be the first time. what about MY room, ma ?" "Look son, we know this has been a hard pill to swallow but things haven't been on the up and up at work," his father retorted. "And ever since we came here her and I have had a hard enough time getting aid to put your brother and sister through school. That's what it is, Brendan. I'm sorry." The middle child of the family was feeling like the forgotten one as he buried his head in his hands with an animated grunt and galloped upstairs before getting the attention of his mother. "Bren, we did keep your stuff downstairs," his mother proclaimed to her defeated son, in a tone resembling a game show announcer letting a contestant know they had still won the complimentary parting prize. "What the hell is that about, man?," was the initial reaction from his buddy Dennis. "I dunno, they're being weird. But maybe it's for the better," Brendan nonchalantly quipped as he
Our pick of the answers:
I am going to be completely honest here, and don't hate me because this is just my opinion. I feel you used much more description then what is necessary, it is predictable, overdone, stale, and uninspired. I kept reading waiting for something to hook me but did not find it, I am sorry but it was boring. Don't let this discourage you, you don't have to use every word in the dictionary to describe a scene, and if you do many people will think you are just trying to compensate for lack of talent. I think if you keep working on your writing abilities then you could turn this into a much more inspired peice, but as is I don't see too many people reading it.
Susan asks…
Ladies: Is my short story any good? Is it interesting? Critique? ?
Can someone please give me an honest assessment on my short story? Here's a piece of it. Is it interesting and is it going anywhere? May could not have come fast enough for the budding group of departing seniors from Colford University. On an evening where the euphoric skyline that draped over the jubilant grads stood still in a blend of blue and tangerine, the day was about to retire into the evening twilight. For the numerous students who packed commuter vans and walked in groups averaging 3-5, their nights were just beginning. Most were ready to let their hair down after a tumultuous month of papers, exams, and research studies. Among the gallery of white baseball caps, oversized cups and domesticated cackling, stood well known attendees at an off-campus mixer. Ellie Bowden and her group of girlfriends comprised that list. Ellie and her girls were checking out the scenery, as they had so succinctly put into their efforts of meeting men of legitimate dating material. Across the way, Brendan Rainer had his sights set on the 5'7 tawny-haired bombshell her mother affectionately refers to as 'A little Ellie-fish, about to enter the big pond of life'. Wearing a striped, button-down shirt, draped onto dreary denim jeans, and parted black hair and sideburns Brenden has had his ups-and-downs with the girl department. To his chagrin, although he valued and respected women, it has most often proved to be his Achilles heel as far as his love life was concerned. He was usually the best friend and he had long since tired of that image. Him and his buddies were also on hand kicking back in the corner and conversing. Was Ellie Bowden out of his league? Maybe. But then again, he had his gameface on. Nothing was going to stand in his way, except for two Capri-sporting, sandal-wearing, necklaced girls who got his attention first. In the traditional sense, Brendan and Ellie came from opposite sides of the tracks. In lieu of their social standing, neither lacked drive. Besides, they were graduating college next week, so things should even out smoothly. Early afternoon, Brendan woke up from a semi-drunken stupor to the hammering of the door from his father Don. Right off the bat the everso blunt, yet overprotective old man of the Rainers look his son square in the eye with a sentiment of Son, we need to talk.' For Brendan this was all too routine. Had it been a cd that lain next to his hundreds of music tapes, a more fitting title of his father's speech would be The Best of Mr. Rainer's Bullshit Lectures: Volume 1, available in both Stressful and Unnecessary.. Brendan cared much for his parents although he sought to find his own identity in his 4 years of Colford. His mother Beverly was the first to hug the first of the clan to have done anything productive past high school. She and her husband were high school sweethearts who married into their early 20s and raised Brendan when they were relatively anew to their own existence. Over the years, they had gone out of their way to bond with their kid over a variety of topics, ranging from learning to balance his own check book to sex. Brendan beyond hoped it would not be one of those talks.. Admittedly enough his estrangement from his parents at a young age was not something that would deter his parents from doing their part in raising his son with some semblance of integrity and standard. That did not always stay in tact once Brendan started his freshman year, but then again so didn't his laundry habits. How you been, dad?," Brendan asked with heavy eyes and semi-combed hair carrying a heaping helping of a month's worth of wardrobe. Just bring in the rest of your bags---you know your mom and I really missed you." He put on weight, Don," Beverly chimed. "I doubt that, honey." It's been a while since you been at school, and.we're going to have to ask that you switch to living in the basement or possibly moving out," his father relayed passively. What the hell?," Brendan stood dumbfounded. He looked to his mother with a glance in his eye seeking approval if she would be too put off that he curse up a storm. It would not be the first time. what about MY room, ma ?" "Look son, we know this has been a hard pill to swallow but things haven't been on the up and up at work," his father retorted. "And ever since we came here her and I have had a hard enough time getting aid to put your brother and sister through school. That's what it is, Brendan. I'm sorry." The middle child of the family was feeling like the forgotten one as he buried his head in his hands with an animated grunt and galloped upstairs before getting the attention of his mother. "Bren, we did keep your stuff downstairs," his mother proclaimed to her defeated son, in a tone resembling a game show announcer letting a contestant know they had still won the complimentary parting prize. "What the hell is that about, man?," was the initial reaction from his buddy De
Our pick of the answers:
Not a girl, but it's pretty good I'd like to see where it's going If you finish it, email me
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