Damn. Robert Frost meets Sylvia Plath. It is a strange dichotomy, at least in my head. The rhythm, tempo and rhyme scheme flow in a somewhat lighthearted manner, yet the context is anything but. I'm not sure if the juxtaposition was intentional, but I like it. A lot.
That brilliance of unfiltered, spontaneous output cannot and should not be underestimated. This piece proves it. When we edit and re-edit and pare down and cleanse the prose, we are applying our biases, our fears and our insecurity filters until we are left with a fictional autobiography. I think you have successfully captured the unquiet mind, at odds with itself over the sacred and the superficial.
I cannot review this for grammar or style or technique. It's mental flux in its purest state. What more could you ask for? Thanks for a great read!
It appears that you are still working on this novel, so beginning the review here makes sense. I like this prologue. It makes me want to read more, and I'm not particularly fond of Westerns. From this prologue, I can infer that there is a lot more going on here. Jimmy's devotion to his family is immediately apparent, though he hasn't thought too far ahead.
My only suggestion is a technical one. You may want to revisit the structure of some of the sentences. For example, "Which of the men was the boss and needed to be killed?" It might serve the text better written as "Which of these men was his target?" I noticed a few sentences that could be cleaned up in such a way.
Other than that, I'm very interested in this novel, and will try to read all of it.
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