Time again for Feedback on the Friday! It’s the best day for feedback, really. I HAVE DECLARED IT SO! If you’d like to discuss my assertion, please send me up to 500 words on one of our prompts and tell me all about it. Then I will happily inform you about why you’re wrong and how grateful I am to hear from you.
Seriously. This feature only exists as long as you all keep sending things to me!
Submit to Feedback Friday! I’d love to give you some constructive feedback. Let my eyeballs dance across your prose. It’ll be fun. firstname.lastname@example.org
- With the head foremost
- In a rush; with reckless haste
I round the corner onto 3rd and fall headlong into a pair of amazing eyes. And then I fall headlong into a trash can, because I’m busy staring at said eyes, instead of watching where I’m going.
“Oh, well, fuck,” a voice says, and then hands are on me – on my waist and my arm, literally hauling me out of the trash can.
“Sorry. Oh my God. Thank you,” I run a hand over my face and through my hair, checking for leftovers from the trash can. “I don’t even know how that happened – I just – I was.” I shake my head. “Thanks.”
He holds out a hand for me to shake, “You’re welcome. I’m Avett.”
“Colleen,” I say.
“Colleen,” he rolls my name around in his mouth, drawing the syllables out slowly. “I like it.”
“Thanks,” I say lamely, because it’s not like I chose it myself. “My parents chose it.” And I can’t stop fucking talking.
He laughs. “Funny, my parents chose my name too.”
I shrug, because I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or not. “Anyhow, thanks for pulling me out of the trash can.”
He nods. “Anytime. Before you go, though, do you have time for a beer?”
“What like now?” I look around. This has got to be a joke of some kind. I’m actually getting Punk’d.
“Yeah, there’s a place I like up on 6th?”
“It’s umm,” I check my phone. “10:30. In the morning. I mean, I’m not judging – ”
He cuts me off. “Right, no, I wasn’t thinking. Coffee?” He extends his elbow, like some old-fashioned gentleman. “There’s a place I like up on 6th.”
“Convenient,” I say as I take his arm. “Let me just tell my roommate I’m going to be late.”
There’s a lot going on here that I like, and several things that are confusing to me. Firstly, I absolutely love the line “checking for leftovers” as Colleen cleans herself off from the garbage can. It’s perfect and hilarious.
I want more sensory information here! What are so captivating about Avett’s eyes? She musts have been close to him, how did she manage to fall into a trash can without tripping over him? What was he doing when she saw him? It scans almost like a screenplay. Maybe it wants to be one?
Do people still say Punk’d?
I understand we’re illustrating the concept of “headlong” here but – he knows a place for beer and coffee, both on the same street? If it’s one place, what kind of place does both of those things well? In either case, why is this stranger so intent on getting her to go to 6th Street? Perhaps I’ve been watching too many thrillers lately but it was all I could do to not yell at Colleen to get her ass out of there!
Overall, I’m interested in the characters and I want to know what’s going on with them so mission accomplished. Keep it up! You’re doing well with drawing the reader in to your narrative.
Thanks for submitting!