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Please comment on:
"Greta, or The Rose Garden," posted in 5 separate sections on page 2.

"Greta" is meant to stand on its own, as part of a subsection composed of linked short stories, so don't worry about how it fits into the overall narrative. It. . . probably does. Somehow.

I would like to link you straight to that post, but I don't know how, so just navigate along.

Critique Guidelines:
1. What is going on? Does a given excerpt make sense, and, if so, what are you getting out of it? If nothing is coming through, I'd like you to let me know.

2. Who/what is the narrator, and how do you feel about that? (Interested, repelled, bored, curious, angry?)

3. What bits did you like, hate, or find boring? (If you can, tell me why, but any description of what you consider the strengths and weaknesses of a piece.)

4. Did you feel that there were too many or too few words, explanations, or details at any point? Where/when?

5. What do you think might make this piece more interesting, effective, or entertaining to read, and who/what would you cite as an example of techniques I should imitate?

6. Miscellaneous comments: Sentence structure? Pet peeves? Poor spelling or word choice? Reminds you of that one time with the things and the stuff? Feel like cutting off my hands so I will never write again? Feel the need to give feedback I didn't ask for, but probably should have? Say as much or as little as you like.

PLEASE COMMENT, especially if you have nothing nice to say.

Also, the dated posts are just me rambling, so don't bother reading them if you don't want to laugh at my writing process.

To Write List
=Strange elixirs from the Orient usually end in tears.
=Eyebrows are difficult
=How much for the boy in the turban?
=Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat words

Not to Write List
=anything that tilts to obviously into one interpretation
=stuff I haven't finished researching
=stuff that never happened
=in which the hero dies a pure-hearted, lonely virgin

To write or not to write?
=marriage? infideltiy?
=the queer/bisexual love triangle that will make everyone laugh at me
=Gratuitous redheaded girl

June 2, 2:00 am

Writer's block is a funny thing. It'll make almost any other project flow like nobody's business. Any project except anything connected to real responsibility. My newsletter articles are languishing, as is my correspondence, but the rewrites on my last project are on fire.

It doesn't help that I'm jet-lagged. Nor does the fact that it's 80 degrees and 100% humidity. Furthermore, I am allergic to the house where I'm staying. I have an amazing number of excuses at my disposal.

The past few nights I have woken up at 3:00 or 4:00 am in a cold sweat, struck with some crucial idea on one or another project. 4:00 am is treacherous. almost all of my best and worst moments of realization happen around that time of night, even if I've tried to sleep beforehand.

I use the phrase "writer's block" as a euphemism. I find myself reluctant to admit that the novel I've outlined scares the living $#!% out of me.

June 6, 2:45 am

William Perkins is shoddy. Not only does Madame LaFleur have a stupid name, she's hateful and I hate her, and don't want to write in her voice. But she's important, somehow. Or possibly just insistent.

James Alden has too many origin stories, too many pseudonyms and no real name. He shouldn't even be called "James Alden" except that the name has stuck, hard. It's not a very good stage name, even. But there it is.

Harry Medford keeps clinging to an outmoded story model, but he has a very distinctive red silk brocade waistcoat. And he won't go away. Also. . . he's the producer, or the financial adviser, or something. For someone. He means well-for an ad man. Which means he's a bit too smug and slimy to be at all benevolent, though he's pleasant enough if you don't let him shake your hand. (He has plump, sweaty hands, and his grip feels just like a warm octopus.)

Who the Hell is Ella? Or, rather, I know who she is. She's a businesslike, no-nonsense horsewoman who isn't quite pretty enough for the stage, but holds her own as a performer anyway. But what's she doing here, other than keeping people in line, being awesome, and having quiet crushes on people? I can't even tell if she works Vaudeville, British variety shows, or the bloody circus.

The crushes are Betsy's job, anyway. But she's too busy having the vapors to do anything useful. Also, I have no idea where she fits in. But I can see her, too. Sitting at her dressing table, rosy-cheeked and vacant-eyed, blushing when she looks into the mirror and sees Alden standing behind her. Oh, God, how I wish she would go away.

And now I'm rambling.

June 10, 4:40 am

I finally broke 10,000 words. This thing is getting weirder and weirder by the page. Given how my writing process usually works, that may be a good sign, but it's still creepy to watch it unfold in long, gooey strings of morbid metaphor.

This happens every time. Every stinking time. Just once I would like to write something completely pleasant, sunny, and innocuous. Is that too much to ask?

Yeah, comment all you like. I'm glad it at least sounds interesting. I've become increasingly obsessed with stage magic over the course of my research. (Actually, before I was ever seriously interested in magic, I worked with an amateur magician in a very small capacity when I was about 12, but unfortunately I didn't learn any sleight of hand, and I didn't take proper advantage of the research opportunity.)

A couple of nonfiction books I particularly liked were two by Jim Steinmeyer: Art and Artifice, and other Essays on Illusion, and The Glorious Deception: The double life of William Robinson, aka Chung Ling Soo, the "Marvelous Chinese Conjurer. There's. . . well, lots more. My fiction research has been a little more oblique, since some of it is more relevant for style than for content.

My main worry about the unpleasant aspects is that they may be standing in for more complicated emotions-a kind of shorthand to avoid going into situations and relationship dynamics that I'd rather not think about. (Too close to home, or too depressing: I prefer gruesome to miserable.) It also doesn't help that I have sort of a morbid sense of humor to begin with. *shrug* I'll be putting up an excerpt or two in a few days, and you can judge for yourself.

Use a reward system, as in unplug the internet until you've written. It helps.

Seriously.


@previous post: Ah. Yes. Well. that makes sense, not wanting to touch still-raw wounds.
Looking forward to your excerpt. :]

First off, wall-o-text here. Try inserting spaces between paragraphs.

I didn't really see any typos or things of that sort.
As for the story, very nice. I like it, so far.