hi and thanks for the nice review of my little story. It’s interesting—I’ve had several people comment on the “southern” aspect of my writing. I’m from the Midwest and the farthest I’ve been south is Missouri for a short visit. I find that interesting. Anyway, thanks a bunch for your thoughts.
Short Story / Freddie Fink
Slowly and resolutely I coiled my hand into a tight ball, looking forward to letting it rest on the underside of Freddie Fink’s jaw. Freddie Fink was aptly named. Before I knew it, I had let loose with a holler that would make your ears burn just before my fist came in contact with Freddy’s blotchy fat face. He emitted a squeak akin to a trapped mouse, while retreating lickety split down the sidewalk, his legs wobbling below the kneecaps if that’s possible. For about five minutes, I was the most-feared nine-year-old female this side of the mighty Missisip. That is until Freddy’s sister Fern came to deliver retribution for my loss of bodily control. Fern with all of her eight years behind her was just as mean as Freddie. All two of the Fink’s stuck together like toast crumbs to honey.
By the time Fern arrived on the scene, I had a captive audience. There were the Beckwith twins and a pack of Ingrams and Hollingers intermingled with a few Hemingways and a solo Anderson. At first I thought they were definitely rooting for me, but as the story outspread, it got harder and harder to distinguish who the protagonist was to be. I’m pretty sure the solo Anderson and a few Hollingers converted to Fern’s side when she approached sporting an official-looking switchblade knife, threatening to use it on anyone who so much as peeked in my direction.
I should have readily admitted I was out of my league. I should also have felt some remorse for the damage I inflicted on poor Freddy’s ego. Never mind that he had shouted to the multitudes that I wore a bra —- size A-minus. Forget the fact that he frequently introduced my ponytail to a wad of bubble gum during Sunday School and spit into the wind blowing in my direction. But, ultimately, I did have to admit that I was outdone when it came to my little fist versus a switchblade knife.
So, I grudgingly apologized to Fern Fink for disrespecting her brother, my followers disappointedly disbanded and disappeared into the chain link of the neighborhood, and Fern Fink slithered back to poor Freddie’s side. It was in those few peaceful moments ensuing that I clenched my fist rhythmically, twisted my sticky red ponytail while snapping my bra strap and, with a grin, turned my face defiantly into the wind.
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LOL this was great. It reminded of the movie the Sandlot for some reason. Everything in this was original. You took something many people have probably faced and made it feel knew. I like they we you describe the audience. I thought the big twist was your main character got punked by a girl. But your main character being a girl herself came out of nowhere. Her hitting fink in the first place was a victory.
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I’M READY TO START THIS CRITIQUE. AS YOU CAN SEE I COPIED AND PASTED YOUR PIECE SO I CAN CHECK FOR SPELLING AND GRAMMAR ERRORS AND TO MAKE THIS REVIEW ALOT EASIER. SO DON’T THINK OF THIS AS CHEATING. MY THOUGHTS ARE IN CAPS, JUST SO YOU KNOW.
Slowly and resolutely(,)(YOU DON’T NEED ADVERBS REMOVE THEM) I coiled my hand into a tight ball(INSTEAD WHY DONT YOU JUST SAY YOU MADE A FIST.), looking forward to letting it rest on the underside of Freddie Fink’s jaw. Freddie Fink was aptly named. Before I knew it, I had let loose with a holler that would make your ears burn just before my fist came in contact with Freddy’s blotchy fat face. He emitted a squeak akin to a trapped mouse(.) (W)hile retreating lickety split(CLICHE PLEASE CHANGE THIS) down the sidewalk, his legs(WERE) wobbling below the kneecaps if that’s possible. For about five minutes, I was the most-feared nine-year-old female(A NINE YEAR OLD DOES NOT KNOW WHAT A FEMALE IS. CAN YOU AT LEAST CHANGE IT TO GIRL INSTEAD?) this side of the mighty Missisip(SPELLING ERROR MISSISSIP HAS 4 S’s NOT THREE). That is until Freddy’s sister Fern came to deliver retribution for my loss of bodily control. Fern(,) with all of her eight years behind her was just as mean as Freddie. All two of the Fink’s stuck together like toast crumbs to honey(THERE IS NO WAY THE READER CAN UNDERSTAND THIS SIMILE).
By the time Fern arrived on the scene, I had a captive audience. There were the Beckwith twins and a pack of Ingrams and Hollingers intermingled with a few Hemingways and a solo Anderson. At first I thought they were definitely rooting for me, but as the story outspread, it got harder and harder to distinguish who the protagonist was to be. I’m pretty sure the solo Anderson and a few Hollingers converted to Fern’s side when she approached sporting an official-looking switchblade knife, threatening to use it on anyone who so much as peeked in my direction.
I should have readily admitted I was out of my league. I should also have felt some remorse for the damage I inflicted on poor Freddy’s ego. Never mind that he had shouted to the multitudes that I wore a bra —- size A-minus. Forget the fact that he frequently introduced my ponytail to a wad of bubble gum during Sunday School and spit into the wind blowing in my direction. But, ultimately, I did have to admit that I was outdone when it came to my little fist versus a switchblade knife.
So, I grudgingly apologized to Fern Fink for disrespecting her brother(.) (M)y followers disappointedly(AVOID ADVERBS LIKE THE PLAGUE.) disbanded and disappeared into the chain link of the neighborhood(.) Fern Fink slithered back to poor Freddie’s side(RUN ON SENTENCE I REVISED IT FOR YOU.). It was in those few peaceful moments ensuing that I clenched my fist rhythmically(RYTHMICALLY? REMOVE THE ADVERB. CLENCHING FISTS RYTHMICALLY DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL.), twisted my sticky red ponytail while snapping my bra strap and, with a grin, turned my face defiantly into the wind.
GOOD PIECE. BUT WHAT I DON’T LIKE SEEING ARE THE ADVERBS. YOU TEND TO OVER USE THEM. ADVERBS MUST BE AVOIDED LIKE THE PLAGUE BECAUSE THEY TELL RATHER THAN SHOW, AND WHEN THE READER WANTS TO VISUALIZE THE SCENE ON HIS OWN, ADVERBS TEND TO RUIN IT FOR THEM. YOUR STORY CONSISTS OF RUN ON SENTENCES. YOU END SENTENCES WITH COMMAS, WHICH IS A COMMON WRITER’S MISTAKE. REREAD YOUR PIECE AND FIND A SENTENCE WITH A COMMA IN IT. READ THAT SENTENCE OUT LOUD, IF IT DOESNT SOUND RIGHT THEN CHANGE IT.
OUR NEXT PROBLEM IS HOW YOU WRITE YOUR STORY IN FIRST PERSON POV. YOUR VOICE IS WRONG. REREAD THE STORY AGAIN. DOES A NINE YEAR OLD TALK LIKE THIS? YOU MAKE THE MAIN CHARACTER WHO IS JUST A LITTLE KID TALK LIKE A COLLEGE STUDENT. FIRST PERSON IS NOT AS EASY AS IT SOUNDS. YOU NEED TO GO DEEP INTO YOUR MAIN CHARACTER’S MIND AND VERY DEEP. LEARN THIS PERSON’S LANGUAGE, HOW (S)HE THINKS AND FEELS ABOUT THINGS ETC. I’M NOT FEELING YOUR CHARACTERS IN THIS PIECE. NONE OF THEM FEEL ALIVE TO ME. I’M NOT FEELING HER EMOTIONS OR KNOW WHAT SHE’S THINKING. ALL I’M READING IS THE ACTION.
ANOTHER PROBLEM IS HOW OFTEN YOU USE THE PRONOUN “I”. THIS IS ANOTHER REASON WHY FIRST PERSON IS DIFFICULT. BECAUSE WRITERS TEND TO BE CARELESS AND USE I’S ALOT, WHICH WILL ANNOY THE READER. THE READER WILL THINK, HEY I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS, I WANNA SEE THE PLOT, NOT WHAT THE MAIN CHARACTER IS SEEING.
GOOD JOB. I HOPE TO REVIEW MORE PIECES OF YOURS IN THE FUTURE. IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING MY REVIEW PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO MESSAGE ME.
i HOPE THIS HELPS YOU.
I really liked the way this began, but the ending fizzled a bit. I was expecting more, but maybe that was your point. Anyways this was a great start and it really has potential. Good luck with your endeavor =0)
This was excellent. You use sophisticated phrases and then go to “lickity-split”. I thought that was great, shows diversity. I think it takes decent talent to write like this, and I think you could apply this style differently, if you have not already. Keep up the good work and make sure to keep writing.
Nicely done piece of work. It is tight and well formed. I am not sure if it is long enough to be publishable. I liked the introduction of the crew as a stew of names. Good luck with your endeavors.
Hello. First thing I’d say is that your story is very visual, and that is a very good thing. And now a wee bit of criticism. Your first few sentences:
Slowly and resolutely I coiled my hand into a tight ball, looking forward to letting it rest on the underside of Freddie Fink’s jaw. Freddie Fink was aptly named.
I get the feeling that this would flow better if they were switched around.
Freddie Fink was aptly named. Slowly and resolutely I coiled my hand into a tight ball, looking forward to letting it rest on the underside of Freddie Fink’s jaw.
Of course, now we come to the problem of why. Why is Freddie Fink so aptly named?
You should explain his character (in the literal sense), so we can get a better idea just who this guy is. I think it would strengthen the beginning, and the story overall.
Besides that, maybe strengthen some of your sentences by putting the strong words at the end. You can accomplish this easier if you break up some of the longer sentences, which would help the rhythm of the story.
That’s all I’ve got. I like what I see so far.
This is well written. It seems to come directly from a dogged eared photography from a family album. The picture is beatifully drawn from the perspective of a nine year old girl. The use of language is good with ‘lickety split’ and switchblade dating the piece also i like your use avoidance of cliched description. ‘the Fink’s stuck together like toast crumbs to honey.’is a lovely image. The action takes place over about 5 minutes which seems to be an intense distilled memory from someone childhood. A great use of 400 words.
You have a definite unique style of writing, however I wanted more in terms of a setting. I had trouble giving this story a sense of place. You write with a wry humor that is very appealing. Your word usage is wonderful “lickety split’,I have not heard that word in years but I love it.
Bravo, excellent effort. Sure do like those quaint Southern analogies, “toast crumbs to honey.”
My only suggestion is that the last line is a little weak, could use an infusion of laughter, perhaps you begin plotting your next move, just something to keep the ending in sync with the rest of the piece, which clips along humorously.
Oh, I think you could’ve taken her. This is simple story, not too much frill. But I like it. There is only one line that I find a tad bit irksome: “All two of the Fink’s stuck together like toast crumbs to honey.” Maybe just “Both of the Finks” take out “all two and the ’s”. Good read. Would like to see more.
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