Critique #2! Critique time

Weekly Critiques is my brand new feature where I critique the first 700-words of a submitted manuscript publicly so other amazing people can also share their feedback.

In the post before this one, I posted the original version without any critique. In this post, I'm sharing my critique. I really, really encourage everyone to take the time to share a comment or two on Rachel Dillon's first 700 words :)

My comments are in gloomy, Seattle blue. My overall thoughts are at the end :)

Title: The Lion Within
Genre: YA Science Fiction

Insects were scattered across the outside of the shower curtain. Renna ignored them, and focused on the inconsistent stream of water splashing (on? over?) her head. The shower would only last a few minutes, and her lengthy mane of hair took most of the water to clean (I’m a little confused about how these two clauses connect?). She had her mother’s thick locks, and despite the inconvenience, she wouldn’t dream of cutting it short. Every time she brushed it, she reminded herself, like a mantra, she wasn’t like her mother (this is a little confusing for me, too…does she keep her hair long as a reminder, even though the hair is just like her moms?). Only five more showers in Kenya, she thought, and then she and her dad would return to California to start her junior year in high school.

(I’m afraid some of the information in this first paragraph isn’t necessary for us to know right at this moment. I think the opening could be stronger if you focused on Renna’s shower so we can really visualize what’s happening. I feel like there’s other opportunities to tell us about her hair and her mom, and also to surprise us with her move to California. Right it feels like you’re telling this instead of showing us, and I think if you showed us it’d be really dynamic and compelling :) if that makes any sense.)

The last soap suds (one word, I think) rinsed away just before the water ran out. After two years in Africa, Renna had the timing down to the second. She grabbed her towel and tapped the curtain. Bugs took to the air or fell to the ground. All but one departed, an insect the size of Renna’s pointer finger. She tried to flick the straggler off multiple times, but it wouldn’t budge. With typical curiosity, she moved to the other side of the curtain to take a closer look. The beetle was bright purple with long antennae. She’d never seen one like it. She leaned in to admire its textures. Paper thin, iridescent wings were folded across its flat back.

It tilted its head to look at her and then took flight, bouncing off her cheek. Renna shrieked, and fell backwards, hitting her funny bone against the wooden divider that served as a wall. Pain ran up Renna’s arm, tingles shot down to her fingertips.

(Just a little observation, but a lot of your sentences use the same structure. Maybe you could toss it up a little bit—some long, some short? I know it’s a hard thing to concentrate on while you’re writing, but I think it could make your writing pop a little more :D)

“Damn it, that hurts,” she growled, rubbing her elbow. (I think this bit flows better without the dialogue so her reaction seems instantaneous.) She grabbed her hairbrush and threw it at the wall. A loud crunch made her flinch. (The crunch of the hairbrush pounding into the wall?)

“Oh, no,” she said, feeling instant remorse (what does this look like? What kind of facial expression does she have? What does her remorse actually feel like?), a common reaction post-outbursts. It had been a long time since she’d reacted irrationally to pain or frustration. (Again, cutting this little tidbit makes her reaction seem more instant, maybe you could move this bit of exposition a little later?) She ran to where the bug lay lied lay* motionless. The bug oozed green. One wing tilted the opposite direction from its other.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill you. I didn’t know you were there.” It didn’t matter that it was a bug. In her mind, everything had a purpose. Pausing first to wrap herself in a towel, she then bent down and picked up the bug, cradling it in her hand. She walked to the front door and placed the dead bug on the porch.

“Ren?” said a deep voice.

She jumped and scurried behind the door. Renna’s face heated up like a piece of metal in the sun. “Hi, Sean,” she said, peeking at him. 

Sean kept a respectful distance, flashing a sideways grin that brought out his dimple. “What are ya doin’, lass? I see you’re not quite ready to go.” (For some reason, the ‘lass’ makes this slightly comical to me?)

His Irish accent never failed to make her heart beat faster.

“I killed a bug.”

“Poor thing. Did it bite you?”

“No, it just scared me. Will the guys get mad if you’re late for the soccer game?”

“You mean football? (Does she call it soccer every time? If so, would he still ask this, or is he correcting her?) No. They know I’m swinging by here first,” he said, and moved closer to the porch to look at the carcass.

(I think the dialogue tag here would work better near the beginning of what he’s saying, since the point of the tag is to tell us who’s talking :) it’s a long time to wait to find out who’s speaking if you leave it always at the end. Maybe something like: “You mean football?” he said. “No…” etc.)

“I’ll hurry.” Renna frowned at the green bug guts on her hands and wiped them on her towel. “Can you bury the beetle while I’m getting ready?”

Sean raised an eyebrow.

“Never mind. It’s my fault. I’ll bury it.”

She threw on shorts, and a t-shirt, sucking in air as she maneuvered her elbows through the armholes. There would be a bruise. It was one more to add to the collection scattered across her knees, shins and hips. Even though he’d never admit it, she knew her dad moved what little furniture they had in their small village home just so she’d bump into it— constant temper-training. Renna wouldn’t put it past him to do such a thing. After all, he moved them to Africa after her… accident. (I’m wondering here if we need to know this little bit right now?)

Renna coated her arms with sunscreen followed by insect repellant, grabbed her hat, water bottle and sketch pad, and headed out the door. (There’s a lot of things happening in this one sentence. Maybe it could be broken up?) It was her and her dad’s last hike before leaving the savannahs. (I’m confused—the mention of the soccer game made me think she’d be going there next?) He hadn’t gotten a day off in over a month. Most of the doctors from the Physicians Abroad program, like her dad and Sean’s, were overloaded with patients.

My overall thoughts: I think this beginning would be stronger if it focused first on action and second on exposition. To me, it seems like there's a lot information here that's delivered just by telling us when it'd be so much more powerful if we saw it firsthand. I think a lot of the information here isn't really necessary for us to know straight away to understand the action present in this passage. Do we need to know about her mom just yet? Do we need to know just yet that she's moving to California right in the first paragraph? Do we need to know just yet about her "accident" or her "temper-training"? These are super cool aspects, and I think they'd be better served a little later :)

I think the concept of this first scene is cool, and it shows what kind of person Renna is. She's showering with bugs, but doesn't seem to mind. How many girls can do that?! NOT ME, that's for sure. Then she gets too angry and when she kills a bug, she feels remorse, and even wants to bury it. That really shows us what kind of girl we're dealing with. I think if you boiled this scene down to really showing us all of this and delving a bit deeper into Renna's perspective, this scene would be totally awesome.

What do you guys think? Please keep it helpful and professional :) but I shouldn't need to tell you guys that, you guys are all fantastic.

* Alice corrected my error here; lay is correct. Obviously this is why you guys are awesome <3