Prose Critique #9
Use descriptions of the setting to reveal the narrator's attitude
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 from Universal Truths by Samantha Jon, a woman revisits a place she once lived. My notes mostly focus on clarifying descriptions of the setting and using those descriptions to help us understand how the narrator feels about the place she has returned to.
My feet rush faster than my nerves want, but twenty-seven-year-old Evangeline Pierce isn’t in control anymore. Right here, right now, I am just sixteen-year-old Eve, with a bed that will be checked in ten and a dress caked in mud from the yard.
The stairs end in a narrow hall lined with doors, each barring bearing a name of a story long ago told1. I pass them all, unwilling to get caught up in the nostalgia of my own room, or the ones like it, just yet. Pictures of the staff throughout the years in black and white2 smile out at me, my own childish face catching3 my eyes every few steps.4 I ignore them as best I can, heading instead for the open room at the back.5 A game room of sorts lay lies before me under an open rafter arch. The pale wood gleams from a fresh coat of stain the lights pick up.6 I can just smell the pine sol scent.7
A sectional sits on an old faded rug, part brown, part red,8 wrapping itself protectively around an old wood coffee table and facing a large screen TV.9 Behind it is a pool table, the green felt worn from use, and a tiny scratch next to the furthest left corner pocket.10 A small bar with a kitchenette is stocked at the back, waiting for someone to need a midnight snack. I pretend not to hear the groan in my stomach as I make my way to the glass doors and out onto the iron-wrought11 deck.12
It’s slick from the rain that is now blowing sideways onto into my face. I let it whip into onto my cheeks and [through my] hair, closing my eyes against its wrath. I think about crying. About letting it all out here where they cannot see. Where there is no proof.13 Before I have to say words I don’t mean and placate people with stories I’d rather forget. The afternoon is growing dark and I’m running out of time to hide. If you’ve learned anything from the Poe’s, my darling, let it be that we all must face our demons, my mother said when I told her I didn’t want to come. And now, I supposed, was as good a time as any.14
It’s hard to know whether to take this literally. Do the doors bear names of stories (“Pride and Prejudice”) or does each door bear the name of its occupant, a name which evokes a story about that occupant? Does it work to say “…each bearing a name that evokes a memory,” and then following it up with a very short memory for a couple of names? “Jo Stevens—the girl who climbed the tallest apple tree only to find a worm in her apple. Lily Smith—the girl let me borrow her boots when mine wore down.” That might give us a sense that the narrator is reliving her “sixteen-year-old” experience.
Separating this modifier from “pictures” creates confusion. Would it work to say “Black and white pictures of the staff…”?
Using the -ing form “catching” implies that this clause modifies something that came before it—but it doesn’t. It reads more clearly as “…and my own childish face catches…”
Should the reader take this to mean that the narrator sees photos of herself every few steps, or that she sees her own face reflected on the glass of the photos of the staff? It’s hard to tell, especially since “childish” makes me think she’s viewing photos of herself as a child. I’m also wondering how the narrator feels about seeing herself on the walls of this place.
Back of the hall? Back of the building?"
This phrase seems redundant, since the wood can only “gleam” if the light picks up the stain.
Pine Sol is a brand name, so we capitalize it as a proper noun. We don’t need “scent” because we already know the narrator is smelling something.
I can’t tell whether this description applies to the sectional or to the rug, but it also doesn’t evoke a picture in my mind. Is it partly brown because it’s dirty? Is it striped red and brown? Can you choose a description that reveals the narrator’s attitude toward the room?
It’s possible I’m being too picky here, but it’s hard for me to imagine the couch wrapping itself around something but also facing something. I do understand what the description means, but if it wraps around a table, then what it’s facing is multiple sides of the table.
The clause “a tiny scratch next to the furthest left corner pocket” is not parallel to the one that comes before it, “the green felt worn from use.” The structure of the first clause is “the green felt [noun] worn [participle adjective]…” Apply this to the second clause: “The further left corner pocket [noun] marred [participle adjective] by a tiny scratch.”
“wrought-iron” is the correct term, and I don’t think a deck can be made of wrought-iron. Is it a wooden deck with a wrought-iron railing? A wrought-iron mezzanine or balcony?
I think it’s an interesting effect to use personification in this paragraph. The couch is protective, the bar is waiting. I’m not sure what mood you’re trying to create with this effect, though. Is this a cozy place that our narrator misses? Are we supposed to conclude that the place is lonely because none of the narrator’s friends are currently using it? Push into this effect more to create a clearer mood if you’d like to tell the reader more about the character’s feelings toward the setting.
Proof of what? This would be a great opportunity to understand more about the narrator’s feelings as she explores this setting. Is she worried they will see proof that she misses this place? Proof that she is a weak person?
It seems like this sentence should be in present tense to match the rest of the passage. It makes sense to switch to past tense with “my mother said,” but now we switch back to present tense because “I suppose” is taking place in the present scene, right?