Quote:
Then came a day of magic. It wasn’t planned to be that way, few often are. It was to be a simple afternoon at the beach. They left too late, forgot half of what they intended to pack, and were totally unprepared for what weather would greet them. On the way out she said,
‘Where exactly are we going anyway?”
“To Torrey Pines. It’s nice there now."
The first two lines of this are slightly jarring to this reader. They seem like fluff or an attempt to add some ornamentation to the story. The substantial parts (meaning, the parts you would have to keep for the story to make sense) are interesting enough in themselves. The ‘fluff’ is completely unfair to your natural writing ability.
Quote:
They drove up the coast in silence, the road would give views of the Pacific now and then, sometimes near, sometimes far, but always breathtaking. They turned off the road past Del Mar.
They parked the car and got out. The wind was up as it is there at times, coming in clean from over the Pacific, a combined scent of salt and seaweed. The sun was low and rested just above the horizon. Cumulus clouds stretched gracefully along the rim of the world and promised a sunset of incomparable beauty.
Here your reader will try to be careful. He often reads your work and so there is some familiarity. You often write colloquially and anecdotally- it seems to be your style and so it is unfair to review you work in the same way one would review a story by an author like hillwaker or MANICHaEAN. The conversational nature of your style has its own charm. Perhaps this piece is an example of how you ought to play to that style more- forego the middle ground and spill over the fence.
In the first paragraph, the reader is told of a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. But what about it is breathtaking? Remember that adage ‘show, don’t tell’? That came to mind here. Again, keeping in mind the nature of your style, this is slightly forgivable, but your reader is a bit of a jerk and doesn’t let you off the hook completely. If he is going to give you his time, he wants that view of the ocean. Gimme.
Quote:
‘It’s surrounded and cut off,’ he thought. ‘It’s a good place for thinking.’
‘It’s cut off and surrounded,’ she mused, ‘a good place for loving.'
Your reader likes this. Perhaps this most clearly defines the essence of your piece.
Quote:
They were both right. It was a place for thinking about love and sharing the silence.
The wind swelled up so he gave her his coat. She took it with a smile. She knew, as a girl often does, that it would require them to sit close together and share an intimate moment.
As the sun lowered, the sky was shot through with gold and vermillion streamers. The only sounds were the screams of plummeting gulls, and the wind kissing the waves’ white-laced necks like in Tales of Brave Ulysses. They felt abandoned, like nomads from some romantic novel. Just them, the sky, the waves, and the sand beneath their feet.
In terms of exposition, this is more like it. In an otherwise casual story, referencing ancient Greek epics seems out of place. Or, if you meant that Ulysses… your reader is even more confused. One of the things your reader likes best about the story- he can readily sense the atmosphere of the beach. You’ve done quite a good job with that.
Quote:
“Let’s sit awhile,” she whispered, taking care not to break his thoughts, for as yet he hadn’t said a word.
They picked a place at the base of the cliffs to give themselves a view. He pulled a joint out of his pocket and tried to light it. This, the wind would not allow. So much for his feeble attempt to take off the edge.
“It’s OK,” she said. “Try this instead,” and gave him a kiss. The kiss was soft warm and wet and carefully delivered. So much better that it was.
“You must be cold,” she said, and snuggled up close. It was only too obvious to her he had something on his mind. Women know such things because they can cook. She knew he had a thought baking and could tell by the smell of him.
He looked at her face. She knew what was coming. He understood they’d come to the point where it might be said with impunity. He was guilty of the thought, so it was time to confess.
The sun dipped lower, setting flame to the clouds. Cumulus rims turned gold. The heat spread, trying to set the night on fire. Jim Morrison roared his roar. He knew it was time. He’d entered the confessional of sand, wave, and cliff. He said to her ear, afraid of seeing her face,
“I love you, you know?”
“It’s OK. Don’t worry. I love you too.”
The words were out. If they meant exactly the same thing to each of them it would have been a miracle. But they were out, and right now that was good enough. It was what they both wanted to hear.
He let out a breath and studied her eyes. When he was satisfied she wasn’t lying or saying it just for form, he squeezed her hand tight. One thing he didn’t have to do now was protect her from nature. His coat could do that. What he really needed to do was protect her from himself. He didn’t know what was within himself, or what he was capable of. This whole thing was new. His mind was a muddle. But it was too late. He’d already said the words.
There are at least two very direct references to the nature of women thus far in the story. This is important. The entire story is perhaps a reflection about the nature of feminity, masculinity and how they interact.
Quote:
Their relationship freely entered would be caught there too, trapped by the words of love they uttered, captured in their own poison red tide of love, tangled by the love-knot she’d plaited in her hair with her delicate fingers and managed to place around his neck by the force her beauty.
Excellent. Perhaps you meant 'by the force of her beauty'- at least that's how this reader filled the gap.
Quote:
They slipped silently into the car and drove away. The sand and the cliffs, the sky and waves, faded off into the distance, and were as forgotten as easily as sentences spoken in dreams.
On closer inspection, there is more depth to this piece than one would expect. As writers, you and this reader are aiming for two very different targets and so he feels unable to help you more directly. With a bit of luck, the above comments will prove useful to you somehow. Ultimately there are pieces of this that shine and much that this reader would discard so that they might shine brighter. To a certain extent, that’s a stylistic call and an unfair critique.
J
