Thank you to Ernie Chiara for submitting your first page for critique! I enjoyed reading your work.
The original text is in black, my comments/suggestions are in blue and bits I deleted or changed are in red.
Enter the next #FirstPageWorkshop for a chance to have your first page critiqued.
CHASING TRISTESSE (Adult, literary fiction)
By the time Tristesse woke up on the lawn, the drugs had long since worn off. His head pounded and his muscles threatened to tear through his flesh. Nice opening lines, a hint of conflict is already established. A few more details on his whereabouts would ground the setting better; whose lawn is he on? How did he get there? He should be used to it by now, but each time felt worse than the last. This could be more powerful shown as internal thought or perhaps a brief memory instead of telling the reader. His stomach turned and he doubled over, dry heaving nothing onto the grass. He spat.
The Charles River drifted slowly west, and the sun hung low in the sky. Tristesse wished he could sit and enjoy the morning, but the grip of his dependency and the promise of a pain-free day stole his moment. He wondered how many other moments of his life had been snatched away like this, but the thought was faint and vanished. I’d recommend varying your sentence structure to make sure your prose doesn’t sound too repetitive.
Gathering his belongings that were strewn about the lawn, he searched for his shoe and spotted it off in the grass. The daylight stung his bloodshot eyes.
Just as the pain he'd been free of the night before had now returned, so too had his shame. He vowed that each fix would be his last, To whom? To himself? but each time the agony that followed drew him back to the only thing he knew would ease it.
It drew him now.
The morning pilgrimage through the Charles River Park to the Museum of Fine Arts was short, though he relished the seclusion the grounds provided. Emerging from the garden path, he stepped out onto the bustling Fenway thoroughfare. As the rich scents of grass and mulch turned to acrid tires on tar, the imposing façade of the museum came into view. Excellent detail in this paragraph. We’re getting a better sense of the setting (time and place) of this story.
The original text is in black, my comments/suggestions are in blue and bits I deleted or changed are in red.
Enter the next #FirstPageWorkshop for a chance to have your first page critiqued.
CHASING TRISTESSE (Adult, literary fiction)
By the time Tristesse woke up on the lawn, the drugs had long since worn off. His head pounded and his muscles threatened to tear through his flesh. Nice opening lines, a hint of conflict is already established. A few more details on his whereabouts would ground the setting better; whose lawn is he on? How did he get there? He should be used to it by now, but each time felt worse than the last. This could be more powerful shown as internal thought or perhaps a brief memory instead of telling the reader. His stomach turned and he doubled over, dry heaving nothing onto the grass. He spat.
The Charles River drifted slowly west, and the sun hung low in the sky. Tristesse wished he could sit and enjoy the morning, but the grip of his dependency and the promise of a pain-free day stole his moment. He wondered how many other moments of his life had been snatched away like this, but the thought was faint and vanished. I’d recommend varying your sentence structure to make sure your prose doesn’t sound too repetitive.
Gathering his belongings that were strewn about the lawn, he searched for his shoe and spotted it off in the grass. The daylight stung his bloodshot eyes.
Just as the pain he'd been free of the night before had now returned, so too had his shame. He vowed that each fix would be his last, To whom? To himself? but each time the agony that followed drew him back to the only thing he knew would ease it.
It drew him now.
The morning pilgrimage through the Charles River Park to the Museum of Fine Arts was short, though he relished the seclusion the grounds provided. Emerging from the garden path, he stepped out onto the bustling Fenway thoroughfare. As the rich scents of grass and mulch turned to acrid tires on tar, the imposing façade of the museum came into view. Excellent detail in this paragraph. We’re getting a better sense of the setting (time and place) of this story.