I have to be in class in 20 minutes.

Joseph,
This is an interesting story, I’m glad you told it. You have some strong images that really keep me interested the entire time. The thesis-type statement you have in the beginning: “Initially I thought indulging in one of the advantages of metropolitan living—clubbing—would entrance me. Sadly not, after one horrid experience,” felt like it was either referring to a different event or too spoon-feedy. I want you to get right into the story without that big of a preface. In fact, you could start with the second paragraph and it wouldn’t confuse the readers at all, just stick “in New York” after “while I was studying journalism.” I like the pause to consider your ideals and whether the show fits in, but I’m a little confused about the decision of the outfit, do you want to make it more explicit that at that point you would either go or not go? For instance, if you said that picking your outfit gave you time to consider the reality of the situation instead of a fun idea and at that point you had to choose. You have a really strong image of the middle aged men snorting coke on the bar, but your inner dialogue seems out of place.

Camillo,
You have some awesome writing with this. I really like your wit with the piece and you set up some vivid images. There are some places where the language gets choppy and confusing, but for the most part this is a smooth read. You could consider taking out a few parts that seem to stray from the main point of the story—the details of your vacation for instance. You bring up a lost backpack and I really can’t decide whether I want to hear that whole story (well, actually I do) or if I’m totally OK without it. You captured the discomfort of being pulled over for no reason well, and I felt nervous while reading it that something worse was going to happen. I’m really glad something worse didn’t happen, but it speaks to the strength of your writing. Throughout the piece, you’ve relayed this story that seems so annoying and insulting for you, yet at the end you say you weren’t upset at the immigration officer, and I want to know why. I think I would have been upset, and I think from what you’ve written, I think you should be upset.

Colin,
This story made me laugh out loud several times. It’s hilarious and I’m glad I read it twice so I could pick up the funny stuff I had missed the first time. The story seems a little short, could you go deeper into some of these events to develop the characters more? I’m sure there’s some more material from the 12-hour bus ride. Right now you have a few snapshots of what the experience was like and I’d really like more of a story of it. There are a couple parts where I’m not sure if you’re making fun of yourself or your peers, like when you say you were caring less and lass that the people around you were either snarky dicks or douchebags. I guess that could go either way and maybe I don’t need to know. It ends a bit quickly, too, and since you summarize it more than give a picture of how you’d become friends, I don’t really understand how you got over your initial reactions. It sounds like you have some awesome stories from LandSea, I’d like to hear more of it.




Lindsey,
This is an interesting story. A new perspective of the prodigy child. What I want more of is your internal feeling. Right now you’re telling me how you felt and how angry you were—can you write about a specific memory that shows this? You’re covering a lot of ground here and if you singled out two memories—one that illustrated how you were treated unfairly, and then develop this last image more of breaking the violin, I think that would be concise and shorten this without losing meaning. Your images and superb and I love your wit with some of these lines. It’s so effective when you have the juxtaposition of your mom and the wicked witch of the west lines. Also, when you break the violin, you have awesome images there, too. I’m very confused about the ending. As it is now, I’m afraid you’ve killed your mother and that makes me uncomfortable. Again, if you wrote about a separate memory, maybe the first one where you had stayed out too late and then gave us a resolution to this last memory it would give a clearer picture. This made me want to hear you play violin, and you probably would hate to hear that. Lastly, I would love to travel around Europe during the summers, even if I had to play an instrument for a stuffy old judge. :) (I’m usually anti-emoticons, but that needs to be there so you know I’m picking on you instead of being an ass).

Emily,
What a great story to tell. I’ve heard you talk about how great your mom’s Matzo balls are, but this story illustrates it well. Have you ever talked to her about how she makes them and where your Matzo balls went wrong? Maybe you could include that. It seems like the underlying theme is this idea of fluid spirituality and how things can be so great and not exactly fit the mold. I wanted more of that. I want a scene where you’re interrogating her about the soup and she doesn’t know how she makes them so good. Or maybe where she gives you the recipe and you’re still confused. I mean, of course these things may not have happened, but it seems like you’ve just resigned to the fact that she’s inherently good at making the soup and it seems like you would want to perfect it just like she has. I love the scene at the end with your dad singing and Hannah throwing toys and Jason sitting there probably uncomfortably as you get the soup, you wrote that really well. This was really easy to read, thanks for writing it!

Mary,
This story is full of personality. You have such witty comments and entertaining points of view that made this piece a pleasure to read. I loved how you opened it. When I first read the part about the car going in the ditch I laughed but then tried to stop myself and hoped that no one got hurt. I’m so glad no one got hurt, because that is a funny story. You also have really strong lines in this. Like when your parents got divorced and Pronto replaced your dad’s number on speed dial, that one sentence encompasses so much, I love it. There are a few parts in this that I don’t understand and I think it’s because I’m not a New Yorker. Specifically, the part where you—oh wait, I think I get it now, looking at it for the fourth time. It was the part where you said there was no loyalty and I didn’t know you were talking about the cab service you used so frequently, and they’re probably telling you they’re only 2 minutes away but it still takes forever. Lastly, it’s so interesting to me that you see a car as independence and spontaneity in New York, which is relatively a very walkable city. Whereas I thought I was going to die a thousand boring deaths being in the middle of farms and fields without a car growing up. I guess it’s that teen angst that gets us all.

Maureen,
You do such a great job of describing how awkward middle school was and how hard it was to come into your own as a person. It’s good to know everybody has this moment. The last paragraph tries to cover too much too quickly and gets off topic. I feel that could be its own independent narrative piece. You haven’t run out of things to say about your friendship with Arnando. What happened? How long were you friends? Did you ever dress up again or did you mostly go back to your comfy clothes? Also, I think that by dressing up that one day, you got his attention and then you two became friends because of your personality, so in that way I disagree with what you say about your looks having nothing to do with a boy liking you. Though I’d like to agree. I love the voices and characters in this piece, specifically your Aunt Oneida, and I love that they ran to find you an entire outfit because of your curves. That part is really cute. You wrote this in a conversational way that I like and it was fun to read it both times.