Gina's Critique

This writer has mechanics down well. Good job. He/she sometimes takes time to really wordsmith and that's good. My suggestion for this chapter is (don't freak), to cut it. This isn't where the story begins. It should start at a point of conflict or with something really interesting. This, in my humble opinion, contains neither. At my first writer's conference a fabulous author told me to cut my first chapter or two. It was all telling and backstory. I wanted to scream (but didn't). I did later do what she asked and my story was much better for it. Though it, along with another completed manuscript of mine, sit collecting dust in my closet.

I suggest this author pick up ten or more novels and read their first few pages. Is there a lot of backstory? Telling? Mundane details? Probably not. The rest of your book may be novelicious but with a ho-hum first chapter (though again, the writing itself was fine), no one will ever read far enough to know.


( ) = suggest cut
[ ] = suggest adding

CHAPTER ONE

The Honorable Judge Darlene Coleman’s **Now that’s a mouthful. Good thing her last name isn’t Finkelweinsteinburgerman. Would she think of herself as “the honorable judge blubbedy bluh? Probably not. I suggest: [Judge Darlene Coleman’s] office light was not the only one visible from the courthouse, but she was the only lingering long past closing time. **Also, I don't understand that statement. So there's other lights on but no one besides her is working late? Why are their lights on then and why are you telling us this? I liked the wording of it, but the meaning was unclear to me.*

Her co-workers had already started their weekend, while she sat staring at nothing in particular. **Show it. Show her looking around at deserted desks, or what she hears, maybe crickets outside her window or the cleaning lady or whatever***

She used the end of a chewed pen to dig under her runaway bun. The bobby pins no longer held the strands of hair in place. The more she scratched, the more her scalp seemed to itch. **Okay, this is gross. I’m picturing her hair greasy and lice-filled. If I was an editor, considering this, no joke, right here I would have laid this in my “no” pile. Not because the writing isn’t good, but because I don’t want to be grossed out by my main character right on page one. I’m picturing a slob. Not that scratching one’s head makes one that but one detail speaks for many others.***

She wanted nothing more than to let her hair down and soak in a hot bubble bath. The week had brought her one tedious case after another. She needed the two days to unwind. Two days to get her life in order.

For the past hour, she rearranged and straightened the contents of her desk until it looked civilized. She couldn’t stand for her desk to get too out of hand. Organization was not her strongest skill, but nevertheless she liked to keep up the appearance.

**Okay, this isn't the exciting opening you're capable of. We have a greasy bun-head judge sitting at a desk staring at nothing and rearranging her desk. We don't want to be told she keeps her stuff organized or that she’s possibly OCD (obsessive-compulsive), we want to be shown. Have her arrange her pens just so or whatever. But not on page one of your book. Begin with something exciting. Remember it’s the first pages that sells a book.***

One folder glared at her. **I like that you mix up sentence structure. Good job!

She knew better, but she picked up the folder anyway. Flipping it open, she started reading the first page. She would have jumped on it sooner. This week’s demanding docket of cases had drained her. A prosecuting attorney for over 10 years, Darlene was ecstatic to get the judicial nomination six years ago. There were some days that black robe mocked her though. She hated those days when her memory recalled cases she would have preferred were filed away so deep they weren’t worth remembering.

**Your writing mechanics are solid but the problem is you’ve got quite a bit of backstory. Backstory is anything that is not immediate action. Her being a prosecuting attorney for 10 years is backstory. Her getting a judicial nomination six years ago is backstory. Her recalling cases she would have preferred filed away is backstory. Backstory equals boring story for the most part.***

Removing **removing is a weak word. Be more specific and descriptive. Sliding is a little more detailed. Choose each word carefully. Take the time to pick the perfect one, not just an adequate one***

the paper clip from the corner, she scrutinized **in some places like with "scrutinized" you take the time to choose the right word and that's great. Do it each time.**

each page. The document wording, including the small print at the bottom, had not changed. For some reason she expected to see something different from what was presented to her a week ago. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. One side of her scorned the opportunity. Her more adventurous side, shouted with glee. Back in the day she would have did a cartwheel and a few flips easily across the floor. Her body wasn’t bad for her age, but those cheerleading skills had long been lost.

**You know the rules. Great mechanics but …and I'm sorry, but ... yawn.***

Darlene looked at her watch and moaned. Her appointment was approaching fast. Why in the world did he have to see her now? It was her fault. Old insecurities had crept back once again to steal her thunder. What was that she heard Pastor Burns preach about a few Sunday’s back? God forgave us, we have to forgive ourselves. Even more importantly, we were not truly forgiven if we didn’t forgive others. The past had to be put to rest.

**I like that you're giving her a wart. That's good ... however, this is a whole lot of telling. Show me all this. If you want her to seem anal, then have her behave anally, not tell us she’s anal. If you want us to know she works long hours, show her walking out to her work’s parking lot and it’s dark and deserted., etc. ***

Someone was having a serious problem with letting go.
She slapped the folder closed and shook her head, completely unraveling the bun. Her jet black hair rippled down her back. The judge persona had officially been retired for the weekend.
Intent on leaving her desk neat, she stuck the file back in the basket, but not on top. She didn’t want to see it first thing Monday morning. No way was she going to repeat her actions today. It was so unlike her to lose her focus in the courtroom. She would make her decision over the weekend and contact them after lunch on Monday.

(Desperate for food,) RUE. (Resist the urge to explain. If her stomach growls, we get that it’s hungry. And try to stay away from melodrama as in her stomach being “desperate” for food. She’s just hungry. Just have it growl.***

her stomach growled in protest. The calories from the chicken salad sandwich earlier that day had long been extinguished. **Okay, it's cool that you're putting in real life details but know when to add a touch for authenticity and when mundane details are not needed. As with the calories in the chicken salad, why are you telling me this? I don't care about it. One of the keys to good writing is knowing what to cut. Sharpen your scissors and snip away what doesn't serve a purpose.

Darlene grabbed her bag and walked out the door, closing it behind her.**We just left her office and I have no idea what it looks like. Paint the scene. Weave in senses. What did it look like? A few details that make my mind fill in the rest. A persian rug or linoleum? Oil paintings on the wall or yellowed posters? What did it smell like? What sounds are there? The water cooler bubbling? A mouse skittering within the walls? You get the idea. Paint every scene. Don’t go on and on but give us a few things that will flesh out in our imaginations***

The lock clicked in place. **Nice small detail. A sound. Good. Sound is often overlooked by writers.**

She turned to look over her shoulder expecting to see Maggie Laurens **Nice telling detail that she knows the maid's name. That says something about her**
with her cleaning cart down the hall. The woman always fussed at her about staying late. She was sure the older woman would tease her about being in hurry for a date.

I wish I did have a real date tonight. *I don't know if the italics didn't translate to blogger, but for those reading this, this is IM and would be italicized.

A long time ago she loved the man she was about to meet. Even though they were both mature, dozens of years of unspoken hurt and pain would always separate them from the possibilities of the past. **Where did this come from? I feel like all of a sudden I’m dropped into another story. I don’t think you transitioned this enough. Maybe really have the maid tease her. That way it’s on stage and more interesting and it transitions better**

Trash cans were being systematically emptied up and down the hall by the feisty night crew, **A. that was passive writing. Active would have read: The feisty night crew emptied the trash cans systematically. Minor difference but hopefully you see it.**

B. I can’t picture them. I can’t picture anything except her greasy black hair and a judge robe. I imagine she’s not really wearing that. What is she wearing? Have her unfasten her top button of her silk blouse or smooth out the creases in her dress pants or whatever**

but there was no sign of Maggie. Darlene walked to the elevator. **Are her high heels clicking against tile? **Thanks to a meticulous dry-cleaning regime each month, her navy blue suit looked as good as it did when she dug it out the closet at six a.m. **Its good that you're giving us a glimpse of what she's wearing without it reading like a grocery list, good job, however I feel like you’re holding a sign behind this character that says: "I’m anal." I already got this from her earlier behavior of cleaning the desk. Becareful not to overdo it. Trust the reader to get it. We’re smarter than we look.***

Her long legs *nice snuck in detail about the way she looks* carried her down the hall toward(s)*per Strunk & White* the elevator within seconds.

After she pressed the down button, she juggled her bag straps so they would not dig into her shoulder. **What kind of bag? A prada or a vinyl K-mart special? A few details will tell a lot**

There really was not much in the bag. The weight she felt had more to do with her dinner meeting. She always wanted to ask him why he never married. Her singleness felt like a verdict handed down from God. **I like that you used "verdict" with her being a judge. That's the kind of wordsmithing I'd like to see even more of. Good job.**

Though lonely, she accepted it. **Let this happen on stage. When the two of them together. I see no reason for this scene. It’s not interesting by itself and everything it establishes could better be established on stage. Show me their shaky relationship when they’re at dinner. You could also show her arranging her silverware in a specific manner to establish she’s OCD. And he could ask something about a case, etc. **

The elevator chugged to a stop and the doors slowly whirred open. Anxious to get to the parking garage, Darlene stepped in and pushed the ground level button. She (sighed deeply) *melodrama alert* as the doors closed. She was really looking forward to the weekend. It wasn’t going to be as relaxing as she desired. Decisions had to be finalized. For almost two weeks, she had avoided her mother and best friend, Candace Johnson. **This is all commentary, backstory or set up for another scene. A chapter shouldn’t exist solely for the purpose of setting up more promising chapters. Particularly not a chapter one. Get us to something immediate and pressing. Some action and dialogue**

Both women were so much alike, she jokingly questioned whether or not Candace was her mother’s real daughter.
It felt good to have two people know you better than you knew yourself. At times it was excruciating, which was why she had to keep them at bay. Now more than ever she needed their advice and prayers. Despite being a powerful judge, she had discovered long ago she could not trust herself to make certain decisions. **Another wart. Good.*
# # #
Someone had been watching the judge from a distance. As soon as the elevator doors closed, her watcher rolled the cleaning cart down the hallway. A set of master keys were pulled from the cart. Judge Darlene Coleman, District 12 Criminal Court was etched into the gold plate on the chosen door.

**what’s this above? “Someone” had been watching. Are we in this someone’s pov? If so, I doubt they’d refer to themselves as “someone”. Make it a he or she or give them a name. Maybe: the watcher or whatever. Maybe you could make this whole scene from the watcher’s pov. That’d be more interesting. Show her staying late. Cleaning her desk. Letting down her long black hair (that she hasn’t been scratching with a chewed up pen.) Just a thought.