
If you’d like to nominate your own page or query for a public critique, kindly post them here in our discussion forums:
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 chefsunshine, whose page is below:
Seasonal produce, my ass. I bit through luscious orange flesh, sweetly acidic juice dripping from my chin. An indecent moan escaped. These fuzzy beauties should have the financially untroubled brunch crowd licking contraband nectar from their Versace plates. How this farmstand sold ripe peaches a month before anyone else suggested juicy agri-intrigue. “You know, bribing crop wardens to ignore sun-gathering spells is frowned upon.”
“Bite me, chef.” The burly grocer shoved a basket into my arms, the protective straw full of pink and orange bottoms. “You and your horrible boss love to show off my treasures.”
“Damn straight.” I tucked an extra twenty into his hand along with a twine-tied bundle. “I brought you a treat.” He smelled the paper-wrapped loaf, a rare smile cracking his face. “Almond, poppy, and apricot from the samples you gave me.” After seven batches, I’d finally nailed the right balance of sticky, crispy edges, chewy fruit bits, and soft almond crumb.
“All set for the big day?” the grocer asked, setting the loaf aside and gently tucking pints of fragrant strawberries and honeycomb into the linen sack hanging from my shoulder.
I nodded. “This will be the brunch of brunches, my friend, revealing my egg-mastery to Manhattan’s elite.”
“Fame and glory, eh?”
The basket dug into my bandaged wrist, shooting pain up my arm. I shifted again, propping it on one leg. “Nah, a restaurant deal and cookbook contract will suffice.”
“And your boss’ll just let you go, huh?”
This page has its moments (“juicy agri-intrigue!”) and I like that the author is going for a voice with some verve, but my honest response is that reading it feels a bit like I’m at the farmer’s market and Overly Excited Produce Guy started screaming in my face about what’s in season before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.
In other words: it’s… a lot. Throughout, a peach isn’t just allowed to be a peach. Instead, they’re “orange flesh,” “fuzzy beauties,” “pink and orange bottoms.” I still don’t even know what the loaf is, even if we get a list of ingredients.
Writers naturally love language and they sometimes get excited about showing off new ways of saying the everyday. And fine! Have at it. But when you turn every sentence into a confusing puzzle, you might end up exhausting the reader.
Combine that with a reluctance to provide context via the narrative voice and burying key storytelling elements (motivation/plan/stakes) off the page, and it turns the page into a real head-scratcher.
I am suddenly craving peaches though, and it succeeds at reveling in the pleasure of good produce. Come on, stone fruit season.
Here’s my redline:
Seasonal produce, my ass. [Even after reading the page I don’t understand why this is how it starts. Isn’t the protagonist tasting seasonal produce? Is it just a joke that the peach is a few weeks early? I don’t really get it?]
¶I bit
throughinto a luscious peachorange flesh[A character can just bite into a peach. “Orange flesh” makes it sound like they’re biting Donald Trump…though that might not be “luscious.” Or they’ll think it’s an orange. Just be clear the first time around], sweetly acidicand juice [We know that peach juice tends to be “sweetly acidic” without needing it explained]drippingdripped from my chin. An indecent moan escaped my mouth [Too clever-by-half passive voice.].These fuzzy beauties
should havecould get the financially untroubled brunch crowd to lickingcontrabandnectarfromoff their Versace plates. [My honest response to the original sentence: huh? Why would it be “contraband?”] How this farmstand sold ripe peaches a month before anyone else suggested juicy agri-intrigue.¶“You know, bribing crop wardens to ignore sun-gathering spells is frowned upon.” [This feels like it’s meant to be funny but I don’t really get it.]
“Bite me, chef.” The burly grocer shoved a basket of peaches covered in protective straw into my arms
, the protective straw full of pink and orange bottoms[Pink and orange bottoms of what? Do you just mean peaches again?]. “You and your horrible boss love to show off my treasures.”[CONTEXT ABOUT THE BOSS THE GROCER IS REFERRING TO]
“Damn straight.” I tucked an extra twenty into his hand along with a loaf of [WHAT] tied in twine
twine-tied bundle[Just say what things are. Why does everything have to be complicated?]. “I brought you a treat.”¶He smelled it
the paper-wrapped loaf,and a rare smile crackedinghis face. After seven batches, I’d finally nailed the right balance of sticky, crispy edges, chewy fruit bits, and soft almond crumb.¶“Almond, poppy, and apricot from the samples you gave me.”
After seven batches, I’d finally nailed the right balance of sticky, crispy edges, chewy fruit bits, and soft almond crumb.“All set for the big day?”
tThe grocerasked, setting the loaf aside and gently tuckingtucked some pints of fragrant strawberries and honeycomb intothemy linen sackhanging from my shoulder.[CONTEXT FOR WHAT THE GROCER IS REFERRING TO]
I nodded. “This will be the brunch of brunches, my friend, revealing my egg-mastery to Manhattan’s elite.” [Smushing exposition into dialogue instead of utilizing the narrative voice to help us understand the protagonist’s plans]
“Fame and glory, eh?”
The basket dug into my bandaged wrist, shooting pain up my arm.
I shifted again, propping it on one leg.“Nah, a restaurant deal and cookbook contract will suffice.”“And your boss’ll just let you go, huh?” [Turning the grocer into a leading questions chatbot so the protagonist can deliver the exposition the reader wants us to hear]
Thanks again to chefsunshine!
Need help with your book? I’m available for manuscript edits, query critiques, and coaching!
For my best advice, check out my online classes, my guide to writing a novel and my guide to publishing a book.
And if you like this post: subscribe to my newsletter!
Art: Orange trees and gate by Winslow Homer