Title: Acension
Author:gaeliciriquois
Plot: Advanced well. I had no bothersome questions while reading it; a good thing! Sometimes I read stories and think “Huh? How did we get here?” I never felt “interrupted” by the pacing of the story.
Setting: I felt you laid down the setting in an excellent manner. I, myself, have a problem with “information dumps” in my writing…the proverbial telling, not showing thing! But you did not do this! For example : “He looked to the back of the chapel where a pair of Gothic arches were carved into the wall mirroring those that framed the door.” I think this is a great example of showing the setting, rather than telling!
Character Development: This is a short story so character development is sometimes sacrificed because of brevity. Still I had no questions concerning the characters.
Just My Personal Opinion!: Good story! I love that it was inspired by a “muse”! Watch out for ‘passive voice’. You do a good job of avoiding it, but I found a couple instances of it. Just have a few more technical nitpiks.
Darren stood in the doorway to the chapel listening to her prayer uncertain whether he dared interrupt her. He listened, entranced, to the words of his grandmother. (To me this should could be rewritten for better flow. Perhaps something like this “He listened, entranced by the words of his grandmother.”) How many times had he heard that prayer when he was growing up in her care? Why did he never remember them sounding so beautiful before, so...honest? Intent as he was on listening to the solemn prayer that he was shocked when he heard his name.
She had raised (passive voice, consider revising) him from birth. His mother and twin brother had not survived the childbirth. His father died a few months later of a broken heart. Gertrude and William, his grandfather, were the only next-of-kin left so they took him in and raised him as their own. (Perhaps this could be re-written for better flow also to something like this: “Gertrude and his grandfather William were his only next-of-kin, so they took him in and raised him as their own.”) He had been told there was quite a to-do with social services because Gertrude was blind from birth. After a conference with the family physician in which he explained how well she had done with her own daughter, (Comma) they allowed her to keep him.
A long silence echoing with her words filled the space between them. The granite, marble, and richly burnished wood accents of the room suddenly became chilled to Darren despite the afternoon sun shining through a lone window above the crucifix. He turned his head to look at Mother Trudy, as everyone called her, (not needed because it’s Implied and the reader will get it.) and suddenly realized how old she was. Next week would be her eighty-seventh birthday.
After a few seconds Gertrude spoke again. "I never told you about Gwendolynn. I figured you had had (not needed) enough sadness in your young life that I needn't pour mine on you as well. Gwen is my older twin sister. But she died sixty years ago from influenza...there had been were (consider replacing with “were”; eliminates passive voice) complications. She had to have been be (replace with ‘be’; passive voice again) oh, twenty-seven at the time." A tear trickled down her cheek even as she smiled and Darren wiped it off gently with his thumb. He scooted closer to her and put his arm around her spare shoulders.
Darren was near to crying now as he pictured all that his grandmother told him. He hugged her a little closer and put his head on her shoulder. He wanted to ask her a question, but understanding that she hadn't yet finished he kept quiet. (Consider revising to “He wanted to ask her a question, but sure that she hadn't yet finished, he kept quiet.” for better flow.) He knew that she would answer his unvoiced questions. He was not, however, ready for what she said next.
"Do you remember what I used to tell you whenever you asked how I knew your (Typo. Should be ‘you’.) were nearby?" Gertrude asked.
"I did join her in spirit briefly to call you to me, to come here to the church, but I am not entirely ready to go just yet. There are still things I need to take care of. But Soon, too soon, I shall be at her side. It's almost time. But (Too many buts, I think!) I will make you a promise. When I do go, I won't leave you alone. Truth be told, Macan, even when Gwen and I have not been with you, you have always had your own guardian angel watching over you. Your twin is always with you, he always has been."
He pulled out a set of earphones and put them on his head then turned on his iPod, setting the volume almost to maximum. He had been (passive voice) hearing words of condolence for three days unending without a chance to do much grieving privately. He just wanted to block out everyone for a while as he walked to the cathedral. Wrapping a scarf around his neck and putting his hands in the pockets of his long camel-colored overcoat, (comma) Darren started down the steps and turned right on the sidewalk. He kept his eyes lowered to just a few yards ahead of himself; (Not needed; implied.) he had walked (passive voice.) this path so many times that his feet would get him there without having to watch where he was going or think about it.
He moved so automatically down the sidewalk and across the intersections that people who knew him and saw him (implied) just shook their heads even as they said a small prayer for him and crossed themselves.
That’s about it! Onto the next review!
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth
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