Critique day at the Sunday group. I waited with bated breath (as opposed to “baited” breath, which made me the desire of the seven seas . . . I’ll never make that mistake again) to get my turn on the chopping block and find out what others thought of my civil war era horror story, “1865.”
The general consensus was quite positive, though I took my hits where I expected to – mainly about the number of characters named in the course of the 9,600 word piece. Of all the criticisms, only one stung, and I heard it three different ways from three different people. It needed to be longer. I wanted more, but it’s a short story so it is what it is. I wanted to have more from the characters. Oof! I had to get permission from the editor to go 600 words over his limit. I don’t really see him allowing me another 2,500 to round it out the way the group’s wanting. I dunno – maybe if I said pretty please with desiccated flesh on top?
A fun part to today was celebrating Jenny Caress’ birthday. Any of you who’ve perused my Facebook have seen me and the demonic Campbell’s kid reject (love you, Jenny) incessantly flipping each other off or doing another form of bodily damage to each other. I’ve teased her since Thursday about having eaten her birthday cookie – yet I brought it and look at the loving response I get.
Sheesh . . . of course I didn’t tell her which side of the cookie I licked . . . bwaaaaahahahahaha!