Date Posted:07:44:18 03/04/10 Thu Author: Lady Morilka Subject: That was a fun ride, inside for crit.>>>> In reply to:
LRLassie
's message, "Re: Down in the Bayou>>>>" on 02:20:51 02/10/10 Wed
Ok, since you said you hadn't edited this piece yet, I stick with a more general crit and leave out the grammar.
>
>The cleaning lady was just inserting a new trash I would cut one of the "trash" bag
>in the trash can when Marcia Marshal walked in.
>
>“Good morning,” Marcia said, avoiding eye contact.
>
>“Good morning Miss Marshal,” the woman said as she
>walked briskly out of the office door.
>
>Marcia surveyed her surroundings. Everything seems to
>be in order she thought, she ran a finger along her
>bookshelf and came up dusty.
>
>“Euch, so hard to find good help these days,” she
>grumbled as she wiped her finger off with a tissue.
>She sat at her desk, and turned on her computer. She
>grabbed a coaster out of her top drawer and set her
>home brewed coffee on it, Marcia hated the idea of
>drinking office coffee. She couldn’t trust that the
>pot was clean, or that the person who’d made it was
>clean for that matter. Never mind that it probably
>wouldn’t be fresh. ok, here is the first time that I get the impression that this is not an easy person with several spleens. makes it interesting, otherwise discribing an officestart as usual could easily become boring.
>
>Marcia squirted some hand sanitizer on her hands and
>checked her emails. She had a few encouraging leads
>about Brangelina and Britney Spears. They are always
>hot items.
>
>“God, I can’t believe this is what my life has come
>to,” Marcia moaned.
>
>Marcia Marshal has been a reporter for as long as
>Britney Spears has been alive, longer actually since
>she ran her High School newspaper back in Boston. She
>went on to edit her college paper and landed her first
>real gig reporting for one of the top newspapers in
>the country. She cracked stories from murder to
>espionage and now she one "she" too many (and wrong time I think "here she was") here she is trying to scoop
>stories about which celebs have had botox and who is
>cheating on who. It’s crap but it sells. She went
>from ace reporter to paparazzi all because of one
>story. The one that got away. Also the one that
>discredited her amongst her peers. Her leads led her
>in circles and the subject was beyond belief but the
>evidence was overwhelming had you been there to see it.
>
>She continued checking her emails, many were from
>publicists trying to get there up and coming stars
>noticed by giving Marcia, as well as all the other
>tabloid writers, a heads up as to where they can see
>their young starlets get out of cars sans panties, or
>sunbathing topless at a “pals beach house”. Some were
>from hungry money friends and families of the rich and
>famous who had juicy tidbits for sale. One email
>grabbed Marcia’s attention. John Abrams, a small town
>reporter who had assisted her in the past. He was the
>only one in the business who knew the truth as she
>knew it. He had been there with her, hunting the
>story, interviewing the witnesses. He was a believer. that last sentence really sparked my interest in what she had found back than, great.
>
>She clicked on the email.
>
>Dear Marcia,
> I hope this email finds you in good health. I
>am sorry that I have not been in touch sooner but it
>is very rare that my path crosses yours now days. Not
>sure if you are still interested but there has been a
>new sighting. I can promise this lead is real as I am
>the one who saw it. It was incredible. I thought you
>might be interested in salvaging your career by
>breaking the story for real this time. I have written
>a small piece but as you know I am not a powerhouse
>reporter like yourself. Would appreciate your insights
>and resources in making this story known to the world.
>My number is the same, please call soon.
> Thanks,
> John
>
>Marcia was unnerved. This was huge, this could get her
>her career back. This could give her back her
>credentials as a top journalist. This could also
>destroy the remaining bit of street cred she still
>had. She really is a pessimist at times, makes her believable, the frustrated woman who does not dare to hope right away. This could be the end all or her saving grace.
>She sipped her coffee and read the email again.
>
>Before picking up the phone, Marcia cleaned it with a
>disinfecting wipe, and dialed John’s number. She was
>always surprised at how many numbers she could store
>in her head. The phone rang four times before his
>machine picked up. She left a quick message letting
>him know that she got his email and would have to
>finish some stories here before she could consider
>heading out this way. She told him she’d keep in touch
>and disconnected.
>
>With that out of the way she went back to work. She
>tried to focus on the streams of gossip coming her way
>and listened half-heartedly to a couple of “sources”
>she contacted but in the end she couldn’t get John’s
>email off of her mind. This was her story, she had
>spent months tracking it down. She had to admit she
>missed being in the field, being in the middle of
>something big, something really news worthy. Her mind
>was made, it was time to report the news again. The
>real news.
>
>Marcia tossed and turned through the night, the
>excitement and potential horror of what she was about
>to do was too much to sleep with. She was showered and
>dressed in record time. ok, whith her germphobia, I wonder, does she have a special thin when showering too? maybe normaly washing herself twice and now skipping one or things like that ;) It had been a long time since
>she chased a story she actually cared about. The
>magazine was sending a car and had taken care of her
>airline tickets, she fed her boss some bull shit line
>about Jennifer Aniston being seen with Brad Pitt down
>in Lafeyette, Louisiana and Angelina was no where to
>be seen. That was all he needed, people ate up the Jen
>and Brad crap.
>
>When she landed at LFT, John was there to meet her. It
>had been a long time since she’d seen him but the
>butterflies were still there. Ok, here i didn't get it until the second read, that it wasn't butterlies because of the upcoming chase but because of him. Call me thick, but I was too much into the hunt to realice it.They were close in age,
>he a widower and she considered herself one as well,
>since her career died. He wasn’t the worlds most
>attractive man but she was not exactly America’s Next
>Top Model, but more importantly the conversation was
>easy and they shared a bond that no one else would
>understand. Until now.
>
>In the car they did all of the obligated small talk
>one does with an old friend before John told her the
>details. John worked for the Lafayette Daily
>Advertiser, he covered local news. He was called out
>to the Atchafalaya Basin to interview a father who’s
>child had been attacked by an alligator. John said he
>knew right away that this was no ordinary alligator.
>He said that the details were much too familiar. The
>father of the child, who sustained some pretty major
>injuries but is currently in ICU with his mother by
>his side, described the alligator as having arms and
>hands as well as a thin layer of fur. Marcia got the
>goosebumps as John spoke. The father said that they
>were out hunting mudbugs for dinner, and he described
>the swamp as being eerily quiet. Another tell-tale
>sign, Marcia thought. The father said that they each
>took a section of the swamp and as he was dumping his
>net out into the bucket he’d brought, he heard his son
>scream and the sounds of water thrashing. He dropped
>his net and accidentally overturned his bucket as he
>ran to his son. The boy, a thirteen year old described
>by his father as a strapping young hunter who has been
>hunting and fishing in the Basin since he could crawl,
>was being pulled into the water by, what he thought at
>first was a giant alligator. The boy punched and
>kicked at the monster but the alligator appeared to
>have hands and had a grip on the boys shirt. As the
>father ran over, he said the alligator turned its head
>and looked right at him and the eyes were not that of
>a normal alligator, they looked human, the teeth
>however were all alligator and were now clamped on to
>the boys thigh as it pulled the boy under water. The
>father, also an experienced woodsman, made it in time
>to get a hold on the beast and stab it several times
>with his buck knife. The alligator thrashed allowing
>the boy to come up for air before he let the boy go.
>The alligator retreated into the swamp but the mother,
>who looked on horrified, said that before it
>completely disappeared it came up from the depths,
>turned and looked back at them. She said that it was
>covered in blood, not sure if it was the beasts or her
>sons and then it was gone.
>
>“Good god!” Marcia exclaimed. “She’s still out there!” I would like to know how Marcia exclaimed this, allarms, horrified, breathless...
>
>“Yes she is,” John confirmed.
>
>“So you saw her? When? What did she look like?”
>Marcia’s mind was going a mile a minute.
>
>“Well, she is the scariest goddamned thing I’ve ever
>seen.”
>
>John went on to explain that after interviewing the
>father and going to the hospital to talk to the mother
>and make sure the son was stable, Marcia was again
>reminded how inhumane she could sometimes be, she
>hadn’t given the boy’s health a second thought, he got
>his gear together and went hunting the monster in the
>Basin. Ok, this sentence is waaaay too long, and has a few "and" too many. He camped out that night, his rifle never
>leaving his hands, not even to pee. The next morning
>he continued on into the swamp in the direction the
>mother had said the monster was headed.
>
>“So what happened John? When did you see her?”
>
>He told her that on the third day he was boiling some
>coffee over the camp fire, Marcia cringed at the
>thought of having to drink that, when he heard a
>rustle in the reeds down by the water. With rifle in
>hand he crept down the bank. He stayed out of sight
>behind a Cypress tree and watched the marshy shore
>through the scope of his rifle. When he saw the first
>scaley hand he almost screamed but he held his breath
>instead and watched as it emerged from the shallows.
>He told Marcia that he knew he should have shot her
>the minute she was in his sights but after all this
>time he felt an overwhelming need to see her. Allie,
>that’s what the locals called her, was hideous. She
>had the course, scaley skin of an alligator but was
>covered in a light coat of dark brown fur. Her head
>was football shaped with the jaw of a gator but the
>eyes of a human. Her eyes were brown but when the sun
>shined shone directly on them they had a caramel tint.
>Allie had that devious alligator smile, all sharp
>teeth inside an evil grin. He noticed a long tear in
>her skin wear where her oblong head met her thick neck, the
>buck knife had most definately made contact. She used
>her arms, appendages twice as long as an alligators,
>and hands with all five fingers in tact to crawl onto
>the dry earth. It was at this point that John adjusted
>the rifle to a more comfortable position and prepared
>to take a shot. Allie must’ve heard, she turned her
>head in his direction and launched backward into the
>water. John ran down to the shoreline but all that was
>left were a few ripples left from her retreat.
>
>“John, that’s incredible but where was your camera? We
>need proof!”
>
>“Sorry Marcia but I only had room in my hands for one
>thing and I was damn sure it wasn’t going to be my
>camera. As for proof, I figured her dead carcass would
>do nicely but I hesitated. I was ready when I first
>had her in my sights but as I watched her the rifle
>grew heavy and well the shot was just off. I am sorry
>Marcia but we still might have a chance, it seems she
>is making herself more visible, was thinking that
>maybe it’s that nasty gash by her neck that’s got her
>coming out, kinda hard to heal if it’s always wet. The
>human part of her might need it to scab over.”
>
>“Okay, where are we staying? I’d like to change my
>clothes and head out to the Basin?”
>
>At this John chuckled, “Well, if it’s any consolation
>you’ll have your own tent.” lol, that is a sentence that gives John character, more than his hunting tale.
>
>“What?” Marcia scoffed. “I can’t sleep in a tent, it’s
>on the ground for God’s sake! And do you know what is
>on the ground John?” He lifted a brow in question.
>“Dirt! Dirt is on the ground John. No this won’t do, I
>will have to stay in a hotel. I appreciate the
>gesture, you know my own tent and all but no thanks. I
>am truly surprised John, I thought you knew me better
>then this.”
>
>Marcia began to rummage through her purse, looking
>past the pill bottles full of vitamins, she saw her
>compact sized bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted a
>little on to her hands, rubbing them together before
>she resumed her search, she pulled out a small box of
>face masks and quickly put one on. John just shook his
>head. Again, how does he shake his head? amused, experated, annoied... And by the way, was Marcia allready like that when he knew her back than or has it become worse?
>
>“Ah, that’s better. It seems a little dusty in here.”
>Marcia leaned her head back, closed her eyes and took
>several deep, cleansing breaths. “John, you really
>should do something about your car, it’s so dusty, one
>can hardly breathe. You know I have allergies. I think
>my throat is closing up. You are going to have to pull
>over, I’ve got some water in my suitcase.”
>
>“Don’t be silly,” John said as reached into the back
>seat, “I’ve got some water right here.”
>
>Marcia cringed as she looked over the old milk gallon
>converted to a water jug. She could only hope, for
>John's sake, that the water inside the filth, slimed
>jug was clean.
>
>John laughed as he put the jug back and pulled the car
>over.
>
>By the time John pulled into the Holiday Inn Express
>out in Breaux Bridge, Marcia had removed her mask and
>was hydrated and breathing normally again.
>
>Marcia checked in to her hotel room and had house
>keeping bring new sheets and blankets so that she
>could witness them change the linens, after she had
>disenfected the mattress with Lysol of course. She put
>on her swamp traversing clothes. This consisted of
>khaki pants and an army green camp shirt. She wore her
>hiking boots and carried her thigh high waders and
>backpack out to the car, where John had dozed off
>while waiting for her.
>
>The two reporters were in the swamp,ok, this half sentence makes me stumble every time. I get the feeling of them beeing beamed there somehow, cos there is no time related word in there. Maybe a "later when" would make that more smooth.
John smiled at
>the sight of Marcia in her waders, lathering herself
>in bug repellent. She knew she probably looked
>ridiculous but strange life forms lurked in this muddy
>swamp and she’d be damned if she was going to have any
>of them lurking on her clean khahi pants. They walked
>for hours, Marcia took pictures of the Basin as they
>talked and scanned the nearby water for Allie. She
>couldn’t help but notice how ruggedly handsome John
>looked all decked out in his sporting gear and
>carrying his rifle. I like this sentence as a tension lifter, but it seems a bit out ouf place without any connection. she scannes the water and notices... maybe her gaze returned to him quite often and than she notices. JMHO
>
>They approached the spot where the boy had been
>attacked and began to look for any signs that Allie
>had been here. Marcia photographed the area where the
>boy had been pulled into the water. There were no
>clear prints of the monster, but she could tell that
>something had been dragged. She continued her
>investigation and when she could think of nothing more
>to see or ask they walked on. Marcia really wanted to
>see the area that John had sighted Allie at. She knew
>that John would not have disturbed any prints or
>potential evidence.
>
>Finally, after hiking for what seemed like forever to
>Marcia, John explained that he would have to take her
>back to the car so that he could make his way back to
>his campsite before dark. Marcia was disappointed that
>they hadn’t seen anything and that it was too late to
>check out the area he had spotted Allie but she had no
>intentions of getting stuck out here in the dark, so
>she agreed.
>
>“Tomorrow is another day,” she said in her best
>Scarlett O’Hara accent. Here it might be interesting to vitnes Johns reaction to that sentence, you could even put one more hint in regarding their relationship. maybe he offers her his arm like a gentleman at that or whatever.
>
>As they turned to head back, they planned to meet
>first thing in the morning allowing them plenty of
>daylight so that she could see his camp. They agreed
>that she would take his car and that he would meet her
>at the same spot they’d parked at today. She felt bad
>for making him stay out here all by himself and
>actually considered staying with him, until a snake
>slithered across the path in front of her. I like that last part of the sentence, but I feel that it gets a bit lost there, maybe a break before and a ! after would make it stronger.
>
>They had been walking for about ten minutes, when they
>both heard a slight ripple in the water. They both
>stopped and listened. John had his rifle at the ready
>and Marcia had her camera locked and loaded as they
>stepped lightly toward the sound. They took cover
>behinds some gnarled branches and John through his
>scope and Marcia through her lens peeked over. At
>first glance nothing was there but they soon heard a
>rumble and a male alligator floated to the top. John
>chuckled disappointedly and Marcia snapped a picture,
>it was a beautiful sight. I didn't see that coming I have to admit, but it is brilliant. I was thinking that that was too easy if they found Allie now, and you really put the tension up high, to have it than disapointed, I love that.
>
>During their hike back they ran into a group of locals
>hiking in. There were four men, two women and three
>teenage boys. John greeted one of the men familiarly
>and introduced the man him to Marcia as Landry Robichaud,
>the father of the boy who was recently attacked. Wasn't the father injured too?
>Marcia wanted to shake his hand warmly but the scent
>of fresh bait wafting off of him was too much for her
>to bear so she inquired about the boy’s health
>instead. Landry told her that Amos, that was his sons
>name, was going to be fine and will have one hell of a
>scar on his thigh but at least he still has his arm
>unlike his namesake Amos Moses, the title and lead
>character of the 1970 song by Jerry Reed.
>
>Landry introduced John and Marcia to his companions,
>his brothers, Buford and Remy, and their wives,
>Ernestine and Odilia, Ernestine’s brother LeRoy
>Boudreaux and his sons Gilbert, Rene and Virgil. Who's sones? LeRoys or Landrys?
John
>shook everyone’s hands and Marcia smiled and doled out
>pleasantries, she had missed these social
>interactions, being amongst real, honest, hardworking
>people. Landry told John that they were setting up
>camp tonight and were going to find that demon that
>attacked his son and rid the earth of it once and for
>all. The two younger boys, Rene and Virgil were to be
>bait, the women were to be decoys digging up mudbugs
>and the men, including sixteen year old Gilbert would
>keep hidden in the brush and keep watch for the
>monster.
>
>John told the group that he had to take Marcia to the
>car but would like to set up camp with them when he
>returned. LeRoy explained where they would be by
>describing certain landmarks and bends in the water,
>luckily John too was a local boy and knew this Basin
>inside and out. The groups parted ways and John walked
>Marcia to the car.
>
>While lying in bed, Marcia continued to berate herself
>for not staying in the Basin, a story was playing out
>and she wasn’t there to capture it. She would never
>forgive herself if they caught the thing while she
>slept, cleanly in her bed.
>
>The next morning John and the oldest boy Gilbert were
>waiting for her by the side of the road. She put her
>waders on, Gilbert looked a little baffled but kept
>his thoughts to himself, and they hiked back into the
>Basin. The birds and insects were just starting their
>day, Marcia loved these sounds first thing in the
>morning. They were much more soothing then the sounds
>of sirens and car horns of which she was accustomed to
>wake to.
>
>As they began the long hike back to the camp, John
>reassured Marcia that she had missed nothing of
>consequence and the pit that had formed in her stomach
>as she drifted off to sleep last night began to
>dissipate. By the time they reached the camp Marcia
>had grown quite fond of Gilbert. He was a bright young
>man, as well as a perfect gentleman. On several
>occasions during their walk he assisted Marcia over
>the rough terrain, all the while carrying her backpack
>for her. She could not think of one sixteen year old
>boy she’d met back home that would behave in such a
>manner. Ok, I like the describtion of gilbert here, but since it has nothing to do with the flow of the story, I think it is too long. Maybe if you cut it after the "perfect gentleman" and just add a half sentence like "carrying her Backpack and helping her over rought parts ot the terrain." Just an idea.
>
>Marcia asked Gilbert if he had ever seen Allie before.
>
>“No Ma’am, I cain’t say as I have but huntin in dis
>here swamp I’ve heard da stories.”
>
>“What have you heard about Allie?” Marcia had asked
>this same question several times before and each
>answer had it’s own variations to the tale but for the
>most part the stories were much too similar to be
>coincidence.
>
>Gilbert explained that as a boy growing up his
>Grandmother and his Mother used to tell him and his
>brothers the story of a young & very pregnant Cajun
>woman who lived out in the swamp with her husband and
>her sister. One day the young woman came home to find
>her husband and her sister having an affair. The young
>woman was so distraught that she went down to the
>water and fed herself to an alligator. The woman was
>eaten alive but the unborn child lived and took refuge
>in the belly of the alligator. Some time later the
>alligator gave birth to the baby. The baby had the
>attributes of an alligator and a human and lived her
>life in the water only leaving the murky shelter when
>necessary. When it came time to mate none of the males
>would have her and Allie wanted more then anything to
>have a child. Eventually Allie gave up on the notion
>of mating with a male gator and began to look to the
>other half of her heritage. She came across a handsome
>Cajun man camping on the shore. She watched him
>secretly all through the day from the safety of the
>water and ventured on shore to peer at him as he slept
>at night. Allie had both the feelings of a human and
>the instincts of an alligator, she knew she was in
>love with the human man so her animal instincts took
>over and she began to call to him as she would a male
>alligator. As one could imagine this did not go over
>so well with the man. He woke with a fright and
>reached for a log from his fire, he waved this in
>Allie’s face and screamed at the sight of her. He
>called her the spawn of the devil himself, a demon, a
>monster. Allie was horrified, her human feelings were
>painful, so much so that the alligator took control.
>She thrashed and hissed at him. He tried to run but
>tripped over a branch in the dark and Allie grabbed
>his leg and pulled him down into the depths. In anger
>she had killed him but in love she kept him with her.
>After that is when Allie began nabbing children from
>the swamp, in anger and in love. I really like that ledgend, sounds really like something one tells in the evening by the fire.
>
>By the time they reached the camp, Marcia was
>exhausted. They had left Gilbert a few yards back, he
>was going to meet up with his father and the other men
>to wait in ambush of Allie. John and Marcia greeted
>the women and the two younger boys, who were very
>anxious to start dangling their toes in the water to
>get a look at Allie.
>
>Apparently the scene was set and a cue unseen to
>Marcia had been given to begin the ploy. The two women
>began hunting the water for crawfish on either side of
>the boys who laughed and played in the shallows of the
>swamp. The idea was for the boys to splash and laugh
>loudly, hoping that Allie would pick up on this from
>wherever she was in the water. how old are the boys? They chose this spot
>based on the most recent sightings of her, it seemed
>to be the most central location.
>
>John and Marcia stayed on shore and made the
>appearance of tending camp. John kept his rifle hidden
>but within reach at all times. Marcia boiled water and
>organized the first aid kit she had brought in her
>backpack. Better to be safe then sorry, she had told
>herself the night before as she purchased the kit from
>a local store. When that was done she began snapping
>pictures, documenting what may be a very momentous
>day. She hoped this would be it, that she would get
>her career back. She looked down at the boys, kicking
>water at each other and felt selfish again. Not until now
>had she even thought about the danger these boys were
>putting themselves in. She hoped that she would get
>her story but more importantly that no one would be
>hurt, especially Gilbert and the two boys.
>
>It was sometime before Marcia noticed the hush that
>had fallen over the swamp. The boys clearly hadn’t
>missed this particular cue. They were still playing
>but their postures were stiff and they scanned the
>water constantly, both of them had rather large buck
>knives on their belts over which their hands tended to
>hover. The women continued to wade in the water but
>they positioned themselves closer to the boys. Marcia
>hid behind the foliage and snapped pictures as she
>watched. She looked over at John who stayed back from
>the shore but watched the water closely, rifle near at
>hand. That was when the story broke.
>
>Marcia wathced from the safety of her camera lens as
>Allie revealed herself to the world. The monster was
>not as large as Marcia would have guessed but she was
>definatley big enough to scare the bejeezus out of
>everyone. Rene and Virgil held their ground, their
>knives held in a defensive position. The plan was to
>get Allie as far out of the water as possible. Allie
>struck out at Virgil, Rene and the women grabbed a
>hold of the boy. John got down on one knee and took
>aim. Marcia heard John whispering for someone to move,
>clearly one of them was blocking his shot.
>
>The trio, pulled Virgil from her grasp but Allie was
>too conflicted with her feelings to give up that
>easily. As the group made their way into the shallow
>water Allie followed. She grabbed Rene’s foot and
>pulled him back toward her. He kicked her in the snout
>with his other foot but Allie wouldn’t let go. That
>was when the first shot was fired. Blood spurted from
>Allie’s side. She let go of Rene and turned to escape
>back in the water but Rene grabbed her scaley tail and
>pulled with all his might, preventing her from the
>safety of the depths. Virgil grabbed a hold of her as
>well and helped his brother as Allie tried desperately
>to claw her way through the muddy shallows. John,
>Landry, LeRoy, Buford, Remy and Gilbert I would shorten that to "all six men" were in the
>water now, on each side of the animal, shots were
>fired and before too long both Rene and Virgil let go
>of Allie’s tail. She would not be swimming in the
>Basin any longer.
>
>Marcia continued to take pictures as the carcass was
>pulled up to dry land. The small hunting party was in
>high spirits. They posed for Marcia’s camera, gave
>statements for her story and prayed for the cursed
>soul of Allie the human gator.
>
>Weeks later when the story hit the headlines, it
>wasn’t quite the journalistic breakthrough Marcia had
>expected. Apparently not many people wanted to hear
>about a humanoid alligator in the swamps of Louisiana.
>Her magazine broke the story but lost in its sales to
>a rival that had an exclusive involving Lindsay Lohan
>and John Mayer. The zoologists and scientists could
>not grasp the story and concluded that the alligator
>was deformed, a birth defect caused by in-breeding.
>The pictures were amazing and earned her a few nods
>but that was about it. Shortly after she was asked to
>retire early, with full benefits and pay. Just how old is Marcia??? Marcia was
>happy to accept. She now spends her days as a
>photographer in Lafayette, Louisiana wearing waders in
>the swamp and smiling happily with John at her side.
Ok, I really like the Story in itself, it is a bit scary, very rushed at parts (works great in such a setting) and has a lot of energy, But the ending for me has a feeling of being rushed without a point. Might just be me, I know, but I would like to have a few sentences more about her giving up the citylive and when, maybe even buying a big clean tent for herself, who knows. Just 1-3 sentences more. But for a first draft it is exelent.
