Critique #164 — Ivy Reisner #6
Kevin Andrew Murphy August 31st, 2007
On a dark night, Mary Ann Magpie drove along a lonely
stretch of desert highway back from her third job in
Phoenix, poking holes in donuts. So tired was she,
that she almost didn’t notice the police light
flashing her to pull over.
She stopped on the shoulder, the squad car
behind her. A giant of a man stepped out and tapped
on her window. She rolled it down. “Can I help you,
officer?”
“Did you know your right tail light has burned
out? I’m going to have to give you a ticket for that.
Let me see your license and registration.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh no! I’ll fix it,
but please don’t fine me. I can barely afford to feed
my six children and nine canaries as it is.”
“I’m sorry, but the law is the law.”
Then, from out of the asphalt he rose,
climbing on his Union Ladder: Light Bulb Man.
He glanced at the offending tail light and it
glowed at him, repentantly. “Excuse me, officer, but
there must have been some mistake. This car is in
perfect repair.”
Light Bulb Man. That left me wondering what sort of thing I was reading. I can’t tell if that’s good or bad yet, but you definitely caught me off guard.
I guess I’d probably honestly have to say I’d read on, a few more sentences, anyway.
J
The transition (the introduction “from out of the asphalt he rose”) was simply too abrupt for me. This would be kind of shocking to have actually happen; I think it needs something more as it is presented to the reader.
Also, make sure you use separate paragraphs for different people speaking.
I had to re-read “On a dark night, Mary Ann Magpie drove along a lonely stretch of desert highway back from her third job in Phoenix, poking holes in donuts.” For some reason, I initially read this as Mary was poking holes in donuts as she was driving. I expect you mean that her job is poking holes in donuts. A small problem is that donuts are formed with the hole in them, so they don’t need the holes to be poked out.
As has been previously pointed out, the change of tone from apparently serious to suddenly a light bulb man (I’m envisioning a cartoon man with a body of a light bulb) rising from the asphalt was more than a bit startling….in a bad sort of way. It threw me from the story.
Hope this helped.
Hmm, it was supposed to read as ludicrous the whole way.
That’s why she had such a ridiculous job and the nine canaries. Questions:
1- Would changing the job to something more outlandish make it work better? Say carving ice into cubes or something like?
2- Would making the cop’s reaction wildly over the top help?
He shook his head in clear disgust. “In all my days I have never seen such a blatant disregard for the law. How could you? I’ve seen you at my church. I’ve allowed my children to play with yours. How could you dare drive with a blown out tail light?”
“Oh my,” he hands flew to her mouth. “I’m so very ashamed of myself. I never knew.” Tears streamed down her face. “I can never face my family again.”
Something crazy like that?
Oh wait, she could be knitting sweaters for cacti. Would that set a comedic tone in the first sentence?
Changing the job to knitting sweaters for cacti would do it for me.
I liked it the first time I read it. But Light Bulb Man really exists, y’all. He does. Really.
How about “She drove home along a lonely stretch of highway, after a
grueling shift at her third job in Arizona - eight hours of poking holes in doughnuts. Her index finger was still thrusting spasmodically forward as she drove.”
There’s some nifty comic stuff in there (or the suggestion of it) but Kate’s right: it’s a little too abrupt in places, and the structure’s off. Upping the outlandishness quotient will help, but also making sure that your sentences are as clear as they can be would help too (I like Miriam’s restructure of that sentence.)
I could probably do with cutting the second graph (which is implicit) and tightening the third, because I want to see more about Light Bulb Man and his involvement in this scene. Does he arise from the pavement saying “This is a job for Light Bulb Man?” Does the cop gnash his teeth, and does Mary Ann Magpie preen and coo “Oh, Light Bulb Man, thank Heaven you’re here!” I’d just like to know.
I also didn’t get the humor until the very end. In fact, when she brought up the kids and canaries, my first reaction was “if she needs three jobs to exist, get rid of the canaries.”
And even the last paragraph didn’t really strike me as very funny.
Seaboe
She stopped on the shoulder, the squad car
behind her. A giant of a man stepped out and tapped
on her window. She rolled it down. “Can I help you,
officer?”
I’m thinking… “She stopped on the shoulder, the squad car behind her.” Is some form of sentence fragment… What did she stop on the shoulder of? The squad car? Squad cars have shoulders?
And… Light Bulb Man… I’m sorry that didn’t strike me as humorous. Perhaps it would have been funnier if a man driving down the road stopped where they were pulled over, held up a finger and said, “Excuse me a moment”, and then put on a suit of a light bulb and pranced to the back of her car. After he fixes it he says something like, “No job is too big or too small for Light Bulb Man!”
Just… anything more realistic than a ladder with a man on it erupting from the asphault with ease.
One more thing. I agree with Debbie White. I thought Ms. Magpie was poking holes in donuts as she was driving as well. AND since you buy most donuts without holes in them… I imagined for no particular reason she was sticking her finger in and out creating many holes in one. *Giggles.* That is a more funny thought than had she done it for a living.
Keep it up though! A little more realism, and I’d read it. It’s a comical idea.