If you’d like to nominate your own page or query for a public critique, kindly post them here in our discussion forums:
Also, if you’d like to test your editing chops, keep your eye on this area or this area! I’ll post the pages and queries a few days before a critique so you can see how your redline compares to mine.
And, of course, if you need help more urgently or privately, I’m available for edits and consultations!
Now then. Time for the Page Critique. First I’ll present the page without comment, then I’ll offer my thoughts and a redline. If you choose to offer your own thoughts, please be polite. We aim to be positive and helpful.
Random numbers were generated, and thanks to Shireena, whose page is below.
Title: THE SHAPE OF HER HANDS
Genre: Upper MG Thriller with Magical Realism
Rosemary shouldered open the heavy steel door and escaped the dull school hallway, slipping into a lemon bright slice of daylight. Heat shimmered in waves above the crispy green-brown lawn, mingling with exhaust from a line of waiting yellow buses. Rose snatched an elastic off her wrist and twisted her thick hair up into a knot, exhaling as a slight breeze cooled her neck and back. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky, letting the sun loosen the tight coils of sadness in her chest and smooth out the waxy hardness in her palms.She scanned the throng of students as they jostled each other, streaming around her out of Loon Lake Middle School. A group of bottle-flippers clogged traffic at the foot of the pitted concrete stairs, earning themselves both complaints and compliments. A heap of coats and sweaters lay at the edge of the sidewalk, their owners throwing a football.
Rosemary couldn’t remember the name of the girl she was supposed to meet, but she recognized her blonde head bobbing down the sidewalk toward the bus line. She pushed through a clump of violin-carrying 8th graders and hollered.
“Hey!”
The girl didn’t respond.
Rose freed herself from the crowd and jogged closer. “I’m here!”
Finally the girl turned around, saw Rose, and smiled. “Oh, hey! I was hoping you wouldn’t forget.”
This page gets off to a strong start, and I liked the evocative imagery. We are immediately immersed in the setting and the protagonist’s mindset, and we ease into some opening mystery with the encounter between Rosemary and the girl whose name she doesn’t remember.
I have a few quibbles.
First, while I had a strong sense of place and liked the “crispy green-brown lawn” in particular, I struggled a bit to visualize the overall surroundings. I wasn’t sure where the school buses were in relation to the lawn. When Rosemary exits the building, I didn’t imagine her at the top of stone steps, nor do we see her descending them. Be sure and describe where objects are in relation to one another as you’re describing the overall setting.
Second, there were a few needlessly complicated sentences that felt like they could be smoothed out.
But maybe most importantly, it feels like there are some missed opportunities to engage the reader with the story more. What sadness is she trying to release? Why does she need to meet with a girl whose name she doesn’t remember? What is she trying to do.
All doesn’t have to be revealed right off the bat, but it’s usually better to prime the reader around what the protagonist is trying to do rather than making what’s happening entirely mysterious.
Here’s my redline.
Title: THE SHAPE OF HER HANDS
Genre: Upper MG Thriller with Magical Realism
Rosemary shouldered open the heavy steel door and escapedtheout of Loon Lake Middle School’s dullschoolhallway, slipping into a lemon bright slice of daylight outside. Heat shimmered in waves above the crispy green-brown lawn, mingling with exhaust from a line of waiting yellow buses [where are these?]. Rose snatched an elastic off her wrist and twisted her thick hair up into a knot, exhaling[empty gesture]as a. A slight breeze cooled her neck and back. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky, letting the sun loosen the tight coils of sadness in her chest and smooth out the waxy hardness in her palms.She scanned the throng of students
as they jostled each other,streaming around herout of Loon Lake Middle School. A group of bottle-flippers clogged traffic at the foot of the pitted concrete stairs [where are these?], earningthemselvesboth complaints and compliments. A heap of coats and sweaters lay at the edge of the sidewalk, while their ownersthrowingthrew a football.Rosemary couldn’t remember the name of the girl she was supposed to meet [meet to do what? Start engaging the reader with the story], but she recognized her blonde head bobbing down the sidewalk toward the bus line. She pushed through a clump of violin-carrying 8th graders and hollered.
“Hey!”
The girl didn’t respond. [Show this with more specificity]
Rose freed herself from the crowd and jogged closer. “I’m here!”
Finally the girl turned around
, saw Rose,and smiled. “Oh, hey! I was hoping you wouldn’t forget.”
Thanks again to HMCWrites!
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Art: Spielende Kinder im Garten by Doviane
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