It’s Monday, which means it’s time for Ye Olde Page Critique!
As a reminder, we’ve switched over to a new system for submitting pages for critique – if you’re interested in submitting a page, please enter it in this thread in the Forums, which I will be drawing upon in coming weeks.
And! Since we’ve done a few page critiques in a row, next Monday we’ll have Query Critique Monday – if you’re interested in submitting your query for possible critique, please enter it in this thread.
Below is the page up for critique, and I’ll be back later with a new post containing my critique. Please please please remember the sandwich rule when offering your thoughts: positive, very very constructive thoughts, positive.
As of this posting there were 188 comments in the Page Critique thread – the first was mine. I searched for a number between 2 and 188 on random.org, and the winner was…..
Here’s Chuck H.’s page. I’ll be back this afternoon with my thoughts.
TITLE: Old Farts
“Have you ever killed anyone?”
I thought about that one for a while as I contemplated my companion who was staring out across the valley. Joe was about my age—somewhere in the neighborhood of sixty—compact, wiry with a full head of gray hair speckled here and there with dark spots. I thought to myself that, with his dark complexion and that nose, he must have had some Indian ancestry. Excuse me, Native American. Evidently my contemplation had gone on too long.
“Well, have you?”
It was a simple question but not so easy to answer. I had been involved, peripherally at least, in a war. I had worn the uniform and, technically, I had been in a war zone. However, I hadn’t carried a weapon or shot at people. But I had made it possible for others to bomb hell out of folks on the ground and shoot down folks in the air. Then there was that gig as a company man after the war. Had I ever killed anyone? I lied.
Joe turned to stare at me for a moment then directed his attention back to the million dollar view from my front porch.
We sat for a while in silence. I was trying to decide whether or not I should call him a liar. God only knows what he was thinking. I finally made up my mind to confront him.
“I always thought that you were . . .”