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I pull my collar up, but it doesn't seem to stop the water trickling down the back of my neck. I've been shouting for Barney for a few minutes now, but there's no sign of a dapple grey pony appearing through the mist. He probably can't hear me; the wind is stealing my voice away.
This weather makes me regret having horses. My coat is already soaked through as I start to trudge up through the field, the mud threatening to suck my welly boots off. I can hardly look where I'm going; the rain is trying to poke me in the eye.
There he is, sheltering in behind the trees. Barney, the love of my life, or so I tell myself. He starts wandering towards me sedately, as if we're in the warm sunny fields I saw last summer in Colorado.
I pull the headcollar over Barney's nose as he gets to me, starting to haul him in through the torrent. Another washed out July. I can't help but be jealous of Leigh-Ann, spending her summer riding through the mountainous desert. I remember the sunshine hitting off the rocks as we stopped to admire the view off one of the trails. You don't get sights like that in Scotland; just rain.
Leigh-Ann caught me feeding her horses carrots over the fence, and we've been good friends ever since. Last time we spoke, she hadn't had rain for weeks. Just glorious hot sunshine. I'd give anything for some of that.
*
After finishing her conversation with Emily, Leigh-Ann hangs up the phone and heads out to do a final check on her 'herd'; the two ex-brood mares she loans, and her trail horse. She smiles as Chocolate come wandering over to stick her nose into Leigh-Ann's chest for one last cuddle.
'Silly girl' she murmurs, reaching up to scratch behind the paint's ear as she fishes in her pocket for a mint. The pretty mare can be delightfully affectionate when she wants to be.
On any other evening, with the sun setting over the flat lands and her horse dozing on her, Leigh-Ann would think she was in heaven. With a final pat, she sends Chocolate away and walks over to her home, sitting down on the front steps and looking to the mountain. The colours appearing behind it are beautiful. A glow of burnt orange, with occasion streaks of yellow and hints of darker red. She almost fetches a camera, but stops herself. It is too morbid a thought.
As the sun continues to set the colours become clearer. Leigh-Ann turns away, mentally yelling at herself to get a grip. They were doing all the right things: spreading fire retardant, digging trenches, dropping water from the reservoir. It wouldn't cross the mountain, they promised.
Leigh-Ann walks inside, closing the door and pulling the blinds down to hide the glow. She can't help but remember; they have been wrong before.
When the dawn breaks, she pulls on her boots to step outside and look at the mountain. It is like an artists palate; a mix of blacks and greys with the odd streak of pink. The glow is intense against that background. She can see the flames now. They move like the long fingers of a witch, clutching at the mountain to draw it into her ravenous, consuming mouth. She cares not what she eats, as long as she is fed.
'The river' Leigh-Ann murmurs, trying to calm herself with the thought that witches and fires do not like water. The mares are still grazing; perhaps they believe in the little river's power. On closer inspection she finds their eyes running.
By the time her father's car turns up, the mountain is hidden by a smokescreen. It must have reached the flat lands. That's only six miles; an easy distance.
'Leigh-Ann, we have to go'. Her father climbs out and strides towards her, quickly joined by her brother
'I already told you I'm not leaving them behind' she responds.
'We're not leaving you here to burn to death! Think of Mom; what she'd go through!' Daniel shouts at her.
'I'm not leaving them to be burnt to death!' she snarls, taking a step back from the pair.
'We're not giving you a choice Leigh-Ann.' Her father moves to grab her arm. She scrambles back from him, but stumbles on the front steps. Daniel takes his chance, catching her arms firmly and dragging her back to her feet, pushing her towards the car.
'You cannot force me from my own home!' she shouts. They don't respond, pushing her into the back seat. Daniel slips in beside her as their dad starts the engine, turning the child locks on and driving away.
'We're doing this for you, honey'. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his daughter fighting to open the door of a moving car.
*
Physical education was never Leigh-Ann's favourite subject. Spending time in a rectangular box made of monotone bricks. At least, back then, the flying balls broke the dull grey colour. Now there were no distractions.
She sits in her place, watching others run her life. Feeding arrangements. Bedding deliveries. Opportunities to go shower. Then sitting in their area, penned in by masking tape on the floor. Nothing for entertainment but conversation, which ran out several days ago.
Suddenly there was a shout from the door. Then others. Everyone in the hall looked over, most standing up, getting as far forward as their tape walls allowed. Shifting around, standing on tiptoes. Wanting to see the commotion.
'You can go home!' a voice shouts. 'The wind has changed; the danger has passed.'
Leigh-Ann turns, trying to push her father to the door. It was her turn to be rough now. He glances at his wife, then nods and picks up his keys. The state of the family home could wait a few more hours.
On turning the corner, her breath catches in her throat. There it was: her pastures, her barn and her house. All dirty from the smoke, but still standing. The wind changed just in time. But panicking horses make silly judgements. Before the car halts she spots the broken fence they've burst through.
'Chocolate!' she shouts, jumping out the car as soon as it stops. 'Sally! Tia!' she adds, though the old mares have never come to call. She waits for a moment, then picks up her bag and heads into the house. She'd get the truck keys. They could be collapsed somewhere with a broken leg. Impaled on a fence post. Bleeding. Fading.
She rushes into her room, tossing the bag on her bed.
'You take South Maple, I'll take Creekside' she shouts to her father, turning to head back out.
She stops dead, staring at a shadow on the wall. An odd shape; never there before. Slowly Leigh-Ann turns, walking towards the window and pushing up the sash, peering into the sunlight.
Dirty, thin and weary looking, the three horses stand in the small back garden, gathered by the stream that runs through the garden. Chocolate's head hangs low, her bottom lip drooping down as her tail flicks at the gathered flies. They've had no fly spray for days.
Leigh-Ann sinks to her knees slowly, hands clutching at the windowsill as her throat closes up. Tears slip down her cheeks gently, creating a little pool of water on the floor by her knees.
*
I peer through the rain, just about able to make out a shape coming towards me as I wipe water out of my eyes. I must remember to reproof this jacket at some point.
I smile as he saunters to greet me, rat tails in his mane and water streaming off his rug. He's plenty warm, and I have a hot shower to go home to. A little rain never hurt anyone.
This weather makes me regret having horses. My coat is already soaked through as I start to trudge up through the field, the mud threatening to suck my welly boots off. I can hardly look where I'm going; the rain is trying to poke me in the eye.
There he is, sheltering in behind the trees. Barney, the love of my life, or so I tell myself. He starts wandering towards me sedately, as if we're in the warm sunny fields I saw last summer in Colorado.
I pull the headcollar over Barney's nose as he gets to me, starting to haul him in through the torrent. Another washed out July. I can't help but be jealous of Leigh-Ann, spending her summer riding through the mountainous desert. I remember the sunshine hitting off the rocks as we stopped to admire the view off one of the trails. You don't get sights like that in Scotland; just rain.
Leigh-Ann caught me feeding her horses carrots over the fence, and we've been good friends ever since. Last time we spoke, she hadn't had rain for weeks. Just glorious hot sunshine. I'd give anything for some of that.
*
After finishing her conversation with Emily, Leigh-Ann hangs up the phone and heads out to do a final check on her 'herd'; the two ex-brood mares she loans, and her trail horse. She smiles as Chocolate come wandering over to stick her nose into Leigh-Ann's chest for one last cuddle.
'Silly girl' she murmurs, reaching up to scratch behind the paint's ear as she fishes in her pocket for a mint. The pretty mare can be delightfully affectionate when she wants to be.
On any other evening, with the sun setting over the flat lands and her horse dozing on her, Leigh-Ann would think she was in heaven. With a final pat, she sends Chocolate away and walks over to her home, sitting down on the front steps and looking to the mountain. The colours appearing behind it are beautiful. A glow of burnt orange, with occasion streaks of yellow and hints of darker red. She almost fetches a camera, but stops herself. It is too morbid a thought.
As the sun continues to set the colours become clearer. Leigh-Ann turns away, mentally yelling at herself to get a grip. They were doing all the right things: spreading fire retardant, digging trenches, dropping water from the reservoir. It wouldn't cross the mountain, they promised.
Leigh-Ann walks inside, closing the door and pulling the blinds down to hide the glow. She can't help but remember; they have been wrong before.
When the dawn breaks, she pulls on her boots to step outside and look at the mountain. It is like an artists palate; a mix of blacks and greys with the odd streak of pink. The glow is intense against that background. She can see the flames now. They move like the long fingers of a witch, clutching at the mountain to draw it into her ravenous, consuming mouth. She cares not what she eats, as long as she is fed.
'The river' Leigh-Ann murmurs, trying to calm herself with the thought that witches and fires do not like water. The mares are still grazing; perhaps they believe in the little river's power. On closer inspection she finds their eyes running.
By the time her father's car turns up, the mountain is hidden by a smokescreen. It must have reached the flat lands. That's only six miles; an easy distance.
'Leigh-Ann, we have to go'. Her father climbs out and strides towards her, quickly joined by her brother
'I already told you I'm not leaving them behind' she responds.
'We're not leaving you here to burn to death! Think of Mom; what she'd go through!' Daniel shouts at her.
'I'm not leaving them to be burnt to death!' she snarls, taking a step back from the pair.
'We're not giving you a choice Leigh-Ann.' Her father moves to grab her arm. She scrambles back from him, but stumbles on the front steps. Daniel takes his chance, catching her arms firmly and dragging her back to her feet, pushing her towards the car.
'You cannot force me from my own home!' she shouts. They don't respond, pushing her into the back seat. Daniel slips in beside her as their dad starts the engine, turning the child locks on and driving away.
'We're doing this for you, honey'. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his daughter fighting to open the door of a moving car.
*
Physical education was never Leigh-Ann's favourite subject. Spending time in a rectangular box made of monotone bricks. At least, back then, the flying balls broke the dull grey colour. Now there were no distractions.
She sits in her place, watching others run her life. Feeding arrangements. Bedding deliveries. Opportunities to go shower. Then sitting in their area, penned in by masking tape on the floor. Nothing for entertainment but conversation, which ran out several days ago.
Suddenly there was a shout from the door. Then others. Everyone in the hall looked over, most standing up, getting as far forward as their tape walls allowed. Shifting around, standing on tiptoes. Wanting to see the commotion.
'You can go home!' a voice shouts. 'The wind has changed; the danger has passed.'
Leigh-Ann turns, trying to push her father to the door. It was her turn to be rough now. He glances at his wife, then nods and picks up his keys. The state of the family home could wait a few more hours.
On turning the corner, her breath catches in her throat. There it was: her pastures, her barn and her house. All dirty from the smoke, but still standing. The wind changed just in time. But panicking horses make silly judgements. Before the car halts she spots the broken fence they've burst through.
'Chocolate!' she shouts, jumping out the car as soon as it stops. 'Sally! Tia!' she adds, though the old mares have never come to call. She waits for a moment, then picks up her bag and heads into the house. She'd get the truck keys. They could be collapsed somewhere with a broken leg. Impaled on a fence post. Bleeding. Fading.
She rushes into her room, tossing the bag on her bed.
'You take South Maple, I'll take Creekside' she shouts to her father, turning to head back out.
She stops dead, staring at a shadow on the wall. An odd shape; never there before. Slowly Leigh-Ann turns, walking towards the window and pushing up the sash, peering into the sunlight.
Dirty, thin and weary looking, the three horses stand in the small back garden, gathered by the stream that runs through the garden. Chocolate's head hangs low, her bottom lip drooping down as her tail flicks at the gathered flies. They've had no fly spray for days.
Leigh-Ann sinks to her knees slowly, hands clutching at the windowsill as her throat closes up. Tears slip down her cheeks gently, creating a little pool of water on the floor by her knees.
*
I peer through the rain, just about able to make out a shape coming towards me as I wipe water out of my eyes. I must remember to reproof this jacket at some point.
I smile as he saunters to greet me, rat tails in his mane and water streaming off his rug. He's plenty warm, and I have a hot shower to go home to. A little rain never hurt anyone.
Literature
'I Hate' list
I hate that I'm easily-influenced enough to make a "I hate" list.
I hate that this list is going to make me sound like a whiny little bitch.
I hate how shitty art gets more favorites and attention than some beautiful art I've seen floating around here.
I hate how immature I am for resenting popular artists.
I hate how selfish I sound when I say my art deserves more attention.
I hate how anime seems to be the only thing that gets on the front page.
I hate badly drawn anime.
I hate unoriginal anime.
I hate how a lot of anime characters don't have noses, because NOSES ARE GODDAMN HARD TO DRAW.
I hate how people are going to try and ex
Literature
You talk shit - Jave and Ruok
Ruok watched Jave's arm reach out across the bed, absently feeling for his pants. Today had been the first day they'd been left alone together in a non-military environment, and it barely took a minute before they were both naked and going at it.
Jave's father was a very wealthy man, and had residences throughout the Yumbol province. Jave, recently promoted, had been given his father's least favourite of the many houses, and had invited Ruok to spend the weekend with him at his new home.
There was a lot of risk in their relationship while at the Jipna encampment, where the two men usually lived. Not only was a relationship such as theirs il
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This is a fictional story inspired by real events.
I had hoped to enter this in a competition, but it's 350 words over the limit. I don't see where I can loose any, but if anyone spots anything unnecessary and irrelevant to the story, please let me know.
This is the first thing I've written in ages. Feeling very rusty about it and I'm not sure that this is any good.
As always, any thoughts in general are appreciated
For the very kind members of
and 
, and anyone else who wants more indepth questions:
I've been reading Alias Grace, so have been playing with jumping around in person. Does this work well, or is it just jarring?
Do the introductory and closing paragraphs in first person actually add anything? To me they make it more relevant to my life, but perhaps they are unnecessary.
I don't really know if you ever really worry for the horses. 1000 words is such a challenge to convey a story in. Is the suspense/tension ever really built?
I had hoped to enter this in a competition, but it's 350 words over the limit. I don't see where I can loose any, but if anyone spots anything unnecessary and irrelevant to the story, please let me know.
This is the first thing I've written in ages. Feeling very rusty about it and I'm not sure that this is any good.
As always, any thoughts in general are appreciated
For the very kind members of
and , and anyone else who wants more indepth questions:I've been reading Alias Grace, so have been playing with jumping around in person. Does this work well, or is it just jarring?
Do the introductory and closing paragraphs in first person actually add anything? To me they make it more relevant to my life, but perhaps they are unnecessary.
I don't really know if you ever really worry for the horses. 1000 words is such a challenge to convey a story in. Is the suspense/tension ever really built?
© 2010 - 2024 Kitri-du-Lac
Comments61
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Overall Vision Originality
Technique ImpactGreetings! I'm stopping by to give you a critique per your #Critique-It submission.
A few notes before we begin:
All suggestions, corrections, and modifications are examples intended for instructional purposes. There is no single correct way to write a story.
While this may seem like a long list of negative feedback, it's not intended that way. The goal is to help you improve your craft. It's not as long as it looks, I swear. There are a lot of quotes and examples. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Big Grin)"/>You are not obligated to use any of my feedback, suggestions, or advice. If you disagree anything, or everything, no worries. I will not be offended and you do not need to defend you decisions to me. It's your work and these are only my opinions.
On with the critique!
Overall Quickie
I liked the plot. I liked the human characters. I loved that you experimented, even if everything didn't quite work for me. Kudos to you for putting yourself out there like that. Keep experimenting. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="15" height="13" alt="
" title="Heart"/>Technical
The technical aspects of writing (grammar, etc) are important in the same way it's important to get dressed up for an interview or first date. You want to put your best foot forward and show that you're serious.
Paragraphs / Actions
Like starting a new paragraph for a new speaker, new character actions need a new paragraph too.
Quote: 'We're not giving you a choice Leigh-Ann.' Her father moves to grab her arm. She scrambles back from him, but stumbles on the front steps. Daniel takes his chance, catching her arms firmly and dragging her back to her feet, pushing her towards the car.
Suggestion: 'We're not giving you a choice Leigh-Ann.' Her father moves to grab her arm.
She scrambles back from him, but stumbles on the front steps.
Daniel takes his chance, catching her arms firmly and dragging her back to her feet, pushing her towards the car.
Explanation: First her father is acting, then she acts so we start a new paragraph for her. Then Daniel hops in and we give him his own paragraph too.
Sentences
I spotted a few incomplete sentences. Incomplete sentences can add dramatic effect, but like an exclamation point or ellipsis, the more you use the device the less it work. I suggest using incomplete sentences in moderation.
A few I spotted:<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Black"/> Barney, the love of my life, or so I tell myself.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
These Paragraphs too:She sits in her place, watching others run her life. Feeding arrangements. Bedding deliveries. Opportunities to go shower. Then sitting in their area, penned in by masking tape on the floor. Nothing for entertainment but conversation, which ran out several days ago.
Suddenly there was a shout from the door. Then others. Everyone in the hall looked over, most standing up, getting as far forward as their tape walls allowed. Shifting around, standing on tiptoes. Wanting to see the commotion.
SuggestionsAdding a couple words to complete the sentences I think will strengthen the story.Quote #1: Shifting around, standing on tiptoes.
Suggestion: Shifting around, they stand on tiptoes.
Quote #2: Wanting to see the commotion.
Suggestion: They want to see the commotion.
Or you could condense the two sentences.Example: Wanting to see the commotion, they shift around and stand on tiptoes.There are tons of ways to rewrite the sentences. Don't feel obligated to use any of my suggestions or examples.
Dialog Formatting
I'm not great at explaining this one. I found this nice tutorial that better explains how to format dialog properly: [link]
A quick tip: Speech always has punctuation of some kind. Usually it's a comma or period. (The tutorial will tell you the rules for each.)
Some example corrections:Quote: 'We're doing this for you, honey'. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his daughter fighting to open the door of a moving car.
Correction: 'We're doing this for you, honey.' He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his daughter fighting to open the door of a moving car.
Explanation: I moved the period inside the quotation, but I really can't remember why that's correct (only that it is in this instance).
Quote: 'I already told you I'm not leaving them behind' she responds.
Correction: 'I already told you I'm not leaving them behind,' she responds.
Explanation: I added a comma because there is a speech tag following. Therefor it's not a complete sentence until after 'responds.'
Tense
I'm sure you know to stay in one tense. I have trouble staying in present tense when I work on scripts so I understand how they slip through. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>
Tense slips: Everyone in the hall looked over, most standing up, getting as far forward as their tape walls allowed.
*There may be more. Present tense is not my my strength.
Miscellaneous
These are usually typing errors or minor issues that slipped through. Not really critiquing but worth pointing out, in my humble opinion.
Extra Spaces
In paragraph two, there are two extra spaces in the middle of sentences. I don't think I can duplicate them in copy and paste, so I'll underline where the extra spaces are.My coat is already soaked through as I start to trudge up through the field, the mud threatening to suck my welly boots off. I can hardly look where I'm going; the rain is trying to poke me in the eye.
Spelling
My word processor considers several words misspellings. Most look like non-American English so I've ignored those. Others I'm not sure about. I think it's worth taking a second look to make certain the words are correct:<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="
These typing errors:Quote: She smiles as Chocolate come wandering over to stick her nose into Leigh-Ann's chest for one last cuddle.
Correction: She smiles as Chocolate comes wandering over to stick her nose into Leigh-Ann's chest for one last cuddle.
Quote: It is like an artists palate; a mix of blacks and greys with the odd streak of pink.
Correction: It is like an artist's palate; a mix of blacks and greys with the odd streak of pink.
Quote: A glow of burnt orange, with occasion streaks of yellow and hints of darker red.
Correction: A glow of burnt orange, with occasional streaks of yellow and hints of darker red.
Quote: Her father climbs out and strides towards her, quickly joined by her brother
Correction: Her father climbs out and strides towards her, quickly joined by her brother.
Style
This part is a bit squishy. There are infinite ways to write a story and it's difficult to say something is "wrong." These are elements I find can use improvement to strengthen your writing. They are my opinion and other people may have differing opinions for improvement.
Action Timing / Order
Sentence structure can occasionally conflict with the event sequence or timing. As writers we try to fit all our actions together and accidentally write ourselves into something that's physically impossible, or at least looks silly in reality.
Quote: Slowly Leigh-Ann turns, walking towards the window and pushing up the sash, peering into the sunlight.
Issue: In the quote, Leigh-Ann is turning and at the same time she's walking toward the window and pushing up the sash while still turning.
Example Suggestion: Slowly Leigh-Ann turns to the window. She approaches and pushes up the sash, peer into the sunlight.
Explanation:
I broke up the sentence because three out of the four action are separate spans of time. (Peering while pushing up the sash is arguable, but I can see it happening simultaneously).
In the example, first she turns to the window, then she approaches the window. After that she pushes up the sash while looking outside.
The use of 'and' or a period is generally an indicator of the end of the first event and start of the next event.
*These can also create chronological order issues if not watched carefully.
Unnecessary Words
Unnecessary words clutter up prose and bog it down. To smooth out the writing, and make the story more readable, delete excess words.
Suggestion: There he is, shelteringinbehind the trees.
Explanation: Without 'in' the sentence retains meaning in fewer words, and sounds more concise.
Suggestion: I remember the sunshine hitting off the rocks as westopped to admire[admired] the view offone ofthe trails.
Explanation: Since the sentence is vague, there are a few other ways to omit words from that sentence. I chose the simplest I could think of.
Notice that many unnecessary sections are attached to prepositions. When working on this writing aspect prepositions can be a red flag to help you spot problem areas (especially when plentiful or clustered together). I use this article for the preposition list: [link]
Not all unnecessary words contain prepositions however.
Keep an eye out for these as well:
started (to), starting (to), walking (to), walked (to), began (to), beginning (to), (etc)
You can usually skip the 'start' or 'beginning' of an action and tell us the action happened.Quote: He starts wandering towards me sedately, as if we're in the warm sunny fields I saw last summer in Colorado.
Suggestion: He wanders towards me sedately, as if we're in the warm sunny fields I saw last summer in Colorado.
Further note: If someone actually started an action they did not complete, there is usually a better way to describe what happened. For example, if the character started to grab an item but stopped, you might say the character reached for the item, but item B distracted her.
Vague / Specific words
Vague words are round about and meander with indecision. Specific words are to the point and certain. Using specific words can often avoid unnecessary words too.
Red flag words to avoid: somewhere, someone, something, it, get, got, getting, so, whatever, wherever, went, kept, (etc)
Tell us what 'it' is or who 'someone' is, etc. Be specific. Use descriptions instead.Quote: The colours appearing behind it are beautiful. A glow of burnt orange, with occasion streaks of yellow and hints of darker red.
Suggestion: The burnt orange, streaked with yellow and hints of crimson, was beautiful glowing behind the mountain.
Explanation: In the quote your sentences looked like one that was cut into two: the bare bones on one side, then the descriptions on the other. I replaced all the vague words with your wonderful descriptions in the next sentence.
*Red flag words aren't always bad, but should be examined closely because they're weak more often than not. Use the find and replace tool to search out and destroy those vague references.
Descriptions
Using specific words, you'll probably wander into more descriptions, but I'll cover another point on the topic.
Sensory Descriptions
The weather is a large role, but it covers more senses than the visual. If the fire is raging, is Leigh-Ann smelling or tasting the smoke? Does she feel the grime?
When Canada was on fire a few month back, a smoke haze covered my area. We could see, taste, and feel the smoke and we were hundreds of miles away.
Is it dry and hot? I don't think I noticed a mention of the dry weather while in Leigh-Ann's story.
Overall I think the story could use more sensory details in the descriptions to really immerse us in the setting and danger.
Story
Opening
I like the beginning overall. The story caught my interest with her search for the horse in the unpleasant weather. I do have a few nitpicks though.
There is little actions in the first few sentences. I'd tweak the beginning a little. Having the character calling for the horse, instead of telling us she had been calling the horse might help. You could establish some urgency by telling us the horse is missing too.
It is missing, right? You never really say but I got a semi-sence that it was possible. At first I thought she was just calling a horse, kind of like you'd call your dog to come play with you. Then I wasn't sure.
The setup to the other character is a bit forced. I felt like you put it in because you had to. I think to smooth out this one you might rearrange your order just a bit.
I think you could start with the character's desire to see sunshine to lead into her friend. In the current form, it looks like you're using the friend to lead into sunshine, but the friend sticks out like a sore thumb, especially when you say how they met. (You could probably skip how they met too because it doesn't really move your story along.)
Your flow would look more like this:
Horse / Miserable weather > Yearning for sunshine > Memories of sunshine > Jealous of friend
Middle
Swapping to third person was difficult to adjust to. It was rough at first, then I preferred the third person over the first.
I liked the story of the character wanting to remain with her horses, but you might have included the first person character in her thoughts. Is Leigh-Ann wishing for rain her friend is so miserable about? I think the weather is a strong thread in your story (very nice, btw) and it's a good opportunity to tie the situations together tighter.
Who's Emily and does it matter that Leigh-Ann was on the phone with her?
I think you're trying to tie that into the earlier statement that she hadn't had rain for weeks. There are two problems with that though. First it's difficult to draw the connection because it looks randomly mentioned. Second, Emily isn't named anywhere else. I'm guessing she's the first person character, but I'm not sure. She could be a telemarketer. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/p/p…" width="23" height="15" alt="
" title="They're all out to get me..."/>I just thought of a third too. If that's the phone call mentioned earlier, then we've gone back in time. I'm sketchy on present tense, but I think it's a no-no to bend time and space that way (more suited to past tense). At least I find it jarring.
There is no tension in the first couple paragraphs of the scene. You have an opportunity to foreshadow and mention the impending disaster when she checks on her horses. You could establish some concern or worry if you're saving the fire for your nice descriptions down the page.
The scene in what I think is a shelter is confusing. First there's physical education, then people running her life. I thought she was in a mental hospital, or maybe prison, for a couple sentences. It could use some elaboration on the setting at the start.
We also forget about the horses while in the shelter. When she returns the tension picks back up quick (nicely done), but I think the story would be stronger if you included her worry about the horses while she waits. It's a good opportunity there.
Think about times when you've waited for something important, test results, admission to something, news of a loved one, etc. Tons of crazy concern goes through your head and I think some inclusion could spruce up both the story and characterization.
End
I thought it was a nice touch she saw her horses from the window. Her relief was palpable. Even if I wasn't 100% invested in the horses, I was invested in her. (Though I'd ax the 'gently' when she's crying. Tears can be wet, itchy, warm or cold, but gentle is an awkward description.)
I'm actually really confused about what's going on when we return to first person. Is that Barney coming toward her? I thought she already found him in the beginning.
I can't really say if the last scene works (structurally) because it's too vague. Elaborating might help, and feel free to use names to provide clarity.
Requested Feedback
I've been reading Alias Grace, so have been playing with jumping around in person. Does this work well, or is it just jarring?
I'm a little confused about this question. Do you mean swapping between characters, or swapping from first person to third person?
Swapping between characters I was all for (since they were different scenes). Swapping pov I think felt jarring.
Do the introductory and closing paragraphs in first person actually add anything? To me they make it more relevant to my life, but perhaps they are unnecessary.
I think jumping from one person to the other with different problems, though connected with horses, is interesting. I think you could play with that more.
The switching from first person to third person, not so much. I found it jarring and a little confusing at first. Then I became solidly invested in third person and you pulled the rug out from under me again swapping back to first person.
Please note that's just my personal opinion. Other people may love it.
I don't really know if you ever really worry for the horses. 1000 words is such a challenge to convey a story in. Is the suspense/tension ever really built?
I think she cared about the horses, but they were of minor interest to me as a reader. I cared that the characters cared about the horses.
The tension built slowly. I can't say I was with the character 100% but it was a good effort. I never understood why the horses were important. There wasn't a solid bond felt. A few hints at horse back story could go a long way. More interaction with the horses might help too.
I have a similar problem with short stories. My husband tells me sometimes my characters (in your case, the horses) are random props and not characters. Everyone suggests interaction to me for a fix, so I'm passing that along to you! <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Big Grin)"/>You made it to the end, yay! I hope you're still in one piece. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="38" height="15" alt="
" title="Hug"/>I wish you the best of luck with your future endeavors. Keep writing and keep improving. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to note me. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>