Welcome to Prose Critique, in which I critique an excerpt for grammar and style. Style is subjective, so my notes won’t resonate with everyone, but I hope that they’ll help writers learn how to focus their writing to convey meaning in the boldest, clearest, most interesting way possible.
In this excerpt, a girl named Jessie has just saved a boy named Chris from drowning. My notes focus on using dialog and body language to convey stress realistically. These characters have just been through a scary situation, and some of the description helps convey their shock and confusion. More details would help illustrate those feelings in a convincing way.
"Come on, Chris. Stay with me, stay with me.”
I lean closer, desperate to find a heartbeat. His bathing suit is changing colours, from red to green and back to a shade of red.1 My heart pounds, echoing in my ears as I place my hands on his chest and will it to move, all my CPR training coming into focus.
And then he breathes.
"Jessie."2
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear my name. I choke on a sob3 as he sits up on his elbows, coughing and gasping for air, and I take my first real breath since he's stopped taking his.
I wipe at my eyes, feeling the weight lift off my chest. "You're okay."
He lies back on the floor. "What happened?"
Just the thought of saying it makes me choke up again. I clear my throat, trying to drag out the words and soften them at the same time.4 "You almost drowned."
"What?! How?"5
A good question coming from a strong swimmer. I remember how we were both doing laps and he suddenly disappeared. "I honestly don't know."6
He swallows hard, quiet for a few moments as we both catch our breath.
I lie next to him and wrap my arm around him. "That was scary."
His arms press against my back, hugging me tight. "I know."7
I find myself counting the moments that are putting me further and further away from losing him. We lie there like that, staring at the skylight of the campus gym, saying nothing for a long time. Even in our best moments, silence is never awkward. And for once, I'm too busy feeling grateful to think.
His breathing slows to its regular rhythm. "This doesn't feel like enough to say, but thank you."8
I squeeze his arm. "Of course. You'd do the same for me."9
He starts rubbing my shoulder, then stops. "Did you pull me out by yourself?"
I remember getting both of us to the wall and climbing out, shouting his name, as if I could just wake him up. "Yeah."
He jerks to a sitting position.10 "That pool is massive. You swam all of that while keeping both our heads above water? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I—hold on a sec." I sit up, my foot sloshing in one of the puddles. "I'm okay. It's you we should be talking about."11
I take in his dark brown eyes, almost positive I can pick out every thought swirling there—he's confused, he hates that I could have gotten hurt too, he's tired, and he's afraid.
I’m guessing the color change makes more sense with context—maybe there’s something magical going on here, or maybe he’s wearing some kind of color-change fabric, or maybe lights are flashing?
“Jessie.” I like the romantic connection this implies. And yet, someone who likely has water in his lungs wouldn’t be able to speak. He’d first have to cough up the water.
“Choking on a sob” seems like a realistic response to something that is certainly very upsetting and shocking for her. I think it does well to show her suppressed panic.
“trying to drag out the words and soften them at the same time” is a nice way to portray her emotional turmoil here.
It makes sense that Chris would be shocked and confused in this moment, but this dialog doesn’t quite ring true. Is there a way to draw out this moment so that Chris takes some time to struggle through his confusion? What is his body doing? Where is he looking? Those considerations might help express his shock more believably.
I think she would say more than this. Can she say aloud the previous sentence?
Would his response be a little more scattered? He seems to have already collected himself after a big shock.
I’m not sure what he’s thanking her for. She hasn’t yet mentioned saving him. Does it make sense to move his questions up to before he thanks her?
Would you rather convey more emotion here? I don’t think the reason she saved him is that he’d do the same for her, but that she loves him (or at least cares about him). Even if she doesn’t want to say that, she would probably say something more meaningful than what you have here.
This kind of action helps portray his shock. I think it works well.
And yet, she would probably be really upset and shaken after this happened. I’m not sure she’d be so quick to say she’s okay—or it should at least be clear to the reader that in this moment she is hiding how much she’s been affected.
Parker, thank you so incredibly much for this AMAZING and super encouraging feedback!! This means a LOT to me.
I wrote In Your Dreams more than a decade ago, and a few years ago I realized that there was a more captivating way to start the story. This scene here came to mind, and I wrote it, but I never felt it was QUITE right yet--like something small is still off to me.
Reading your feedback feels SUPER encouraging and, reading my words here, I gained a fresh perspective that lets me really see and appreciate the scene again. Thank you so incredibly much for your amazing feedback! I love those ideas and I look forward to exploring them! Thank you so much for the warm words too - it's all so super encouraging! :) :D