Date Posted:19:44:38 05/13/10 Thu Author: Paige2 Subject: Re: Part 1 (word count 1402) >>> In reply to:
Fi
's message, "Part 1 (word count 1402) >>>" on 14:31:53 05/12/10 Wed
Hi Fi,
I really enjoyed this tale. I loved your dialog between the characters. However I'm a bit confused by narration/POV. I think I would flesh out Mrs. Joyce just a bit. Does she know about Richard and why this woman is here. Also, in the 1st part you had Richard answering his mom that "he" was invited back for supper but yet in 2nd part the mother went with him. Confused me at first.
I enjoyed the details it made the story very visual to me. I could see the office, the fishing village, could almost smell the fish and see the dancing cat at her feet. :-) Wonderful settings.
Below I bolded out some items.
*****
Mr. Joyce fingered the embroidered fringe of the handkerchief that Richard had [just ?] given him. The man's nails were trim and his hands smooth; he'd obviously never worked on a fishing boat. But there was something oddly familiar about the shape of his face and the quizzical look in his blue eyes.
*****
The man looked again at the handkerchief, and Richard wondered what was so special about it. It might have been white once, but plenty of snot had been washed out of it over the years and it was now a faded buttermilk colour. [ick & ewwwwww, but vivid]
******
“He was. He's.... his boat went down.”
You were supposed to say “God rest him” when someone mentioned a dead person, but this man just kept staring from Richard's face to the handkerchief and back again.
“God rest him,” Richard added. [Not sure but should the above all be together, since Richard is talking. The middle paragraph I had to re-read since I wasn't sure who was talking.]
*****
Richard dawdled as he passed over the bridge. The sky was clear, but the river was swollen from last night's rain. On his left were the walls of Galway city and the masted ships bobbing at the quay. He spit into the water and watched the glob swirl around in one eddy, then another, before rushing towards the mouth of the river. He wondered vaguely if his spit would be swallowed by a fish or if it would just break up to become part of the sea.
He crossed the river to the right bank and made his way towards the church spire and the huddled thatched roofs of the Claddagh, the fishing village that was his home. The smell of turf filled the air as he met his mother and auntie Peg, along with two of his older girl-cousins. [I liked the visuals in these 2 paragraphs. I could see a young boy doing and thinking that and I could so see the village. Curious, didn't they use peat for burning? Visual was great.]
******************
Overall, I thorouhly enjoyed it and would like to read more. I want to see how Richard deals with this news.
Hi Paige2,
Thanks for your comments and kind words. I guess I need to flesh out Mrs. Joyce as a character. I was trying to keep things simple by focusing the other three people, but her role is quite important so I'll need to put more detail into this, her first appearance.
In Ireland, "turf" is often used as a synonym for peat, but since "peat" is the more widely-used term I should change it to this.
