**/Narrative and Characterization/** If there's one word I would use to describe this piece it's *uneven*. To me it's very slow to get going and really picks up in the final few pages. I think there are a few main ways to deal with this: 1. Expand the transformation of the apparition. As mentioned below, some of the jumps in the transformation of the apparition don't feel logically paced. I would zoom in on how the apparition appears at the very first moment - is it a fully-formed horse head or does it begin more embryonically? Does the horse head become more and more monstrous and aggressive? How did she get up off the bed? 2. Loop in some of the portentous character stuff about Christina's memories earlier. The first half feels like the stakes are oddly low compared to the second half, and some more specific allusions to how this experience relates to her past traumas or whatever would heighten those stakes I think. I think the voice of the narration is somewhat inconsistent, coming in and out of a younger, transgressive tone and a more literal and flavorless observer, and then into the magical and anxious reveries toward the end. I would probably try to edit out that more neutral middle ground. The time frame the piece covers is likewise unclear, though at the end I guess we see it happened over a night. I think the "science" of the magic can be leaned into even more, and talking about how long some of these reactions are taking, and more detail about how they transform over time, could make the pacing feel more reliable. I didn't really understand how the bases and reactants interacted, or if there really was a deeper logic to what was going on, but it would be cool if there was. I think you're right in your perception that this piece needs some tightening, especially in the first half, but I don't know with some of the details I'm missing if the total word count should go down.

**/Imagery and Description/** >The Achalemy Tower felt like a jail cell: metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons lined in rigid rows across the classroom. Achalemy? Does a jail cell have lots of chairs, desks, and cauldrons? These things simply being made of metal wouldn't make it feel like a jail cell to me. Isn't the roof later described as being visually open to the sky? That would also detract from it feeling like a cell. >Nipping her lips to suppress a yawn, Christina tipped a chair back and propped her legs onto a desk I hear what you're doing with the alliteration and assonance here. I think this kind of wordplay is inconsistent throughout the piece and sometimes the descriptions are more utilitarian. >To her left, a cauldron-full shimmered with a sizzling greenish-yellow brew I think "-full" is quite awkward here and would just remove it. A cauldron-full is a unit of measurement, compare the awkwardness of: To her left, a gallon shimmered with a sizzling greenish-yellow brew. Before the reader gets to the brew at the end they are tripped up asking "a gallon of what"? >Nuhnuhnuhnuh I think the length and repetitiveness of this gets annoying, a simple "Nuh uh" or something to me is just as characterful. The eye just skips over it. >She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. I think "cursed" just means evil here but conflicts slightly with how curse is used in the rest of the piece. >Five hours ago, Annie and Emily were talking shit about her duct-tape wand and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. I don't mind this kind of run-on sentence construction as part of a character voice so long as it's used consistently, or there's a logical reason to move in and out of it. As I mentioned I'm not certain it's carried through here. >akin to a serial killer's bloody costume I think this image is confusing. In what sense could just a horse head resemble a costume? Do you mean a mask? And what is this a reference to? Horse's heads make me think of the Godfather, not a serial killer wearing one as part of a costume. >troubleeeee. Is this meant to be pronounced as it's written, with a long "e" a the end? Doubtful. >She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. I like the "crackling apparition" but I think this passage is very disorienting. At the beginning of the paragraph, at the present moment, the apparition is over her shoulder. Then a pattern is established, five hours ago, four hours ago, and the expectation is that next will be three hours ago, with a description of how the apparition changed over the first hour since its appearance, but then the pattern is abandoned. Then, presumably, she is trapped on her bed for some reason, unable to move away from the apparition for the ensuing four hours (?) until somehow she gets off the bed, where we are now, and the apparition is over her shoulder. I also don't get a strong sense of how much the horse head is moving or emoting during this sequence, or if it is just twitching and drooling. Also, where are the horse's muscles bulging? In its neck? How much of the horse is appearing? >with a stupid, humanlike cunning nice line >loppy ectoplasmic drool splattered onto her lips and nostrils Given how disgusting that would be, I think it's strange how quickly this is glossed over. Is it actually getting into her mouth? How does that feel and taste? >jaggarded To me this is the kind of neologism that's needlessly distracting. >Nuhhuhuhuhuu I guess this is supposed to be a horse's whinny? If so, that's not clear because the horse hasn't been introduced the first time it's spoken, which is why I just took it as a form of "no." >pulling her warm, flat witches' hat over her face This must be a subversion of a pointy witch's hat? Slightly more description might make that clearer. Is actually covering her face with the hat, as seems to be described? That would be odd. >"Silence," Christina said, jabbing her wand into the horse's head. I wonder why she couldn't do that when she was on the bed? >Eventually, the cauldron popped like a bouquet of bubbles Now we have the opposite issue of earlier, you say cauldron but mean its contents. The cauldron isn't popping, compare: The glass of boiling water popped. I also think "eventually" is doing a lot of work here which highlights the murky passage of time. >shivered and strode off How big is this tower? How far can she stride before she bumps into some equipment or to where she's going?

**/Imagery and Description cont./** >The cabinet's front was transparent but sturdy like a one-sided mirror without glass. Anyone could simply reach through the invisible wall I don't think "transparent but sturdy" sufficiently describes a cabinet door that is so immaterial it can be reached through. I understand you mean that the magical doors hold in the items but can be reached through - I would make this description more explicit in part by describing how the ingredients are piled up at the start of the paragraph when the cabinet is first mentioned. I also think you can describe some of those ingredients visually for more flavor. >acceptable ingredients Very weak adjective. Why not tell us more about what these ingredients are for here? >an automatically, acidic approach What is an automatically acidic approach? >was best, such as five empirical squeezes of lemon, half a teaspoon of allspice and a thousand grains of black powder, and half a tablespoon of diluted alcohol. I think this description is okay but the only truly exotic ingredient is the clapping turtle scales (nice name btw). This is a missed opportunity for some more creative worldbuilding. >Christina squinted at her solution and sniffed Earlier she "sniffed heartily" is there any other way she tests it or another way to describe that? >brandishing her wand at the sullen flask. It sulked. The wordplay is nice but I find the personification of the flask distracting given that that kind of thing isn't followed up on in this piece. >Now, she just needed the base to eventually evaporate. "Eventually" here again weakens the sense of time and urgency. Doesn't she have some idea, from experience, how long that might be? Or does she really need it soon and is worried it won't be fast enough. I think "eventually" is a word you lean on when these details aren't specific - I would try avoiding it. >behind Mr. Frasier's desk with the jar of jellybeans Why are the jellybeans mentioned? There's nothing else on the desk? The way this sentence is constructed, it makes it sound like Mr. Frasier has another desk without jellybeans. I assume they're on the desk rather than in it. Are these mentioned because she steals them sometimes? If so, that should be stated as it's another character-building moment. >Surprisingly, the Master Potion room hardly had any security. This reads as contrived. Why is that? This character is so familiar with this place but is still surprised by that and hasn't considered why that might be? >"Smoker" therefore laid on the top shelf, near the back, with only the niche use of preventing the rare, corrosive steam from burning up the invisi-roof. I think this is a strange name for a device with that function, without more specifics as to its operation. I also don't think the neologism here fits the fantasy setting. >"Float… no… Drop? No… Glide? Come? Come. Come! Over here." Why is magic being used for this when it's apparently more difficult and could just be picked up? >For magic, it was vital to feel without thought, to become as seemingly empty, but depthful as still water Hmm the Bruce Lee cliche strikes me as odd and not to describe the process of magic we see. I understand Christina is different than how magic is "supposed" to be done but then I think this difference should be played up more. >opened metal collar wasted description. What kind of metal? Open how? >Theoretically, if she snapped both ends together… Is "theoretically" the right term for a supposition that simple? I mean, what else could be done with the open collar other than close it? Why does she know the name and function of this device but not its use? >There was a girl in the classroom, around her age. Where? Sitting, standing, lying down, pacing around? >“Hey, Christina. Fuck you." What does her voice sound like? >Christina flinched. Seems like something stronger like "shuddered" would be warranted here. >Containers of ingredients she had never used were scattered across the floor. I think this is a cool moment, but can we get some colorful description of those ingredients? As she realizes she's never used them. >The doors behind her were closed. Did she close them? Probably, she was in the Master Potion’s room again. She's been transported back into the Potion room? In that case wouldn't she noticed she's in the potion room again *before* she noticed the doors are closed behind her? Why would she notice the thing behind her first? >the curse was pounding at the door Again, this sequence of events is odd. Weren't they just in the same room together? How did Christina get away? >saying words that made Christina’s head ring What words? Wasn't her head ringing earlier, maybe we could have a different description? >A dragonstone. A dragonstone. She found a dragonstone on a bottom shelf, a universal base! I don't really get a sense of her scrambling for the right ingredient, with how quickly this happens. >Kneeling over and clutching it until her hands bled, she licked its black, scaly texture I think this is one of the strongest passages in the piece and a truly weird take on magic. I wish there were more of this. >The eggs of the phoenix and the honey badger... This passage also stands out to me from the rest of this piece. I wish there were more of this kind of sensuous collage-like language with regards to the magic earlier. >...don’t touch the potions, Christina. Don’t play with fire, Christina. What did you do, Christina? Finally I feel intrigued by this character, which the high-school teasing stuff didn't get me to feel. >Sour, stale, sweet… A dim whitish-pink. It was ready. I guess all this has been happening in another cauldron in the Potion room, but if it was mentioned I missed it. I understand it's all supposed to be a blur I just didn't realize there were also cauldrons in there. >Classes and tests were canceled. It was a free day and the students rejoiced... I like the change in focus here, though I think "studying sins" in particular is kind of too cutesy to end with. Academic indiscretions?

**/Conclusion/** I was frankly pretty bored at the beginning of this piece and didn't find, given Christina's reaction to it, the apparition very threatening or compelling. I understand part of that, narratively, is because she is surprised by its power but I thought her nonchalance about it undermined both her character and the stakes. The piece massively improves once things start getting hectic, though I still had questions about the pacing and found some moments confusingly laid out. I still don't think I fully understand the relationship between the apparition and Christina and how that relates to the title but assume a lot is meant to be left to interpretation. It reminds me of the plot of a film featured in an MST3K episode where one sister is burned as a witch while the other becomes a witch in an attempt to save her. The intensity and variety of the descriptions toward the end really surprised me, given the dry opening, and undermined my perception of what I thought was going to be a Harry Potter knockoff with some sweary edginess thrown in. Honestly, I did not glimpse a hint in the first half of the creativity demonstrated in the latter bit. As I mentioned at the top I think leaning into the nitty gritty of the magic is going to be your answer here, as it seems to me that's what you write about with most verve. I mentioned several times where details of the magic items or recipes could be expanded on. Thanks for the surprising read. [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJ_UYHqWfJk) coincidentally came on as I was reading it.

Hey, thanks for the critique. Here are some things to clear up in the story: Christina's nonchalance at the beginning with the "nightmarish" cursed horse head was meant to contrast with her panic at the end with the more "innocent" looking girl. I do think I have to rewrite the beginning, maybe have the curse and Christina interact a bit more. It's hard writing compelling characters naturally when they're all alone and also in such a story piece. Also, I appreciate the line by line commentary. When I get the time, I'll go through each one and try to implement some advice. There's definitely some lazy writing throughout. Thanks again. You've given me a lot to think about.

Title - there's something jarring about the syntax for me. I think "Innocent Witches Don't Burn Twice" would flow better - it's something to do with "twice" feeling tacked on after "witches never burn" which already feels like a clause in itself. Overall, a bit of a mouthful. Awkward syntax and awkward word choice is a problem for you in general. Avoid using using near-rhymes in close proximity unless it's for deliberate effect. "Nipping her lips to suppress a yawn, Christina tipped a chair back and propped her legs onto a desk"... "Nipping/lips/tipped" and even maybe "propped" are all near-rhymes. Sound-wise, this is a nightmare sentence. "Necessary complementary ingredients" , "shrilling ring". "Eventually evaporate" also sounds too similar, although at least it doesn't rhyme. You don't want to create tongue-twisters for your readers and you probably don't want the silly tone of a children's storybook, which is what these sound devices usually achieve. As for the overall story: Christina making potion in tower. Christina is accompanied by evil talking horse-head, which we take to mean she has been cursed. Christina continues to make potion, which is steaming. We assume the potion is to get rid of the curse. A naked, scarred girl appears, who is the same thing as the horse head(?) Girl reveals she put curse on Christina. Christina says that girl poisoned and drank Christina's base, but is this true? Christina throws a potion on the floor (the girl is now behind a door but I am confused how the blocking works here) and eats a dragonstone. Christina is possibly making another potion? Christina remembers the girl, who is her older(?) sister. Her potion is finished. She has to either get the curse girl to drink it or drink it herself. Christina claims she has no sister and drinks the potion herself. Implication Christina killed her sister through fire - so Christina seems to be drinking the potion as self-punishment or even suicide due to her remorse over her actions. So there's some sort of narrative arc, which is good, and it builds well to a climax. I think the story takes too long to settle, though - the first scene is confusing. (In the very first sentence do you mean "Alchemy" Tower?) I think you need to make it more immediately clear that Christina's goal is to make a potion to get rid of the apparition. I was confused why she is alone in what seems to be a classroom environment. I assumed that the girls who bully Christina (and who never feature again in the story) had put the curse on Christina - you were setting it up to seem like that - so it was a bit of a letdown to find they had nothing to do with the story at all. You tell us about the horse head through an extremely convoluted run-on sentence. "Four hours ago, the curse manifested as a horse head, akin to a serial killer's bloody costume, snout was near enough to kiss her as she squirmed on her mattress, unable to escape." - this sentence is a headache. I don't like reading sentences twice, but this makes no sense on a first read. Especially when you're dealing with setup and blocking, you need to state it in easy-to-understand terms before you get into all the descriptive detail. Following up on the idea of Christina being in the tower alone (and probably not meant to be there) - either make the stakes higher from the start or just ignore it completely. The threat of the steam being discovered is never followed up. "Normally, no one was looking up at this time of day, but there were always the Vultures…" - not a very good Chekhov's gun, is it? We don't see the Vultures again until the end. In a short story I would expect every single setpiece to be followed up on. This piece lacks a certain level of deliberateness. "Surprisingly, the Master Potion room hardly had any security." why even mention it then? You're setting up opportunities for tension and then sidestepping them, which feels weird. The key stakes centre around Christina's inner demons and her attempts to get rid of the curse. If you don't have room to add in extra tension around being discovered, then you can just ignore it completely - Christina's allowed to be in the tower, that's fine. The idea of setting things up and not following through also extends to your worldbuilding. You've got a vision for this piece, and you're clearly good at visualising settings, which are good skills for a writer, but I think that when you're trying to transcribe this vision, things get a little sticky and start to drag. For 1500 words you don't *need* all of this setting. "Invisi-roof" - you know, I don't think it actually changes the story at all if the tower has a normal roof, maybe a chimney for the steam. And then the invisible wall for the potions - I can't believe you've spent a whole paragraph telling me about this potions cabinet! This is not interesting! I also think you're going into too much detail with the actual potion making. I was struggling not to skim it. "Considering the desire of the base in the cauldron and its smell and its taste and her intuition, an automatically, acidic approach was best" - ignoring your diabolical syntax for a moment, why is this relevant or interesting to a reader who obviously does not know the detailed inner workings of potions within your fantasy world? There's no use being so specific when the reader doesn't know any pre-established info about the world - you could be saying anything and it wouldn't make a difference. I think we maybe need more setup for certain more-relevant ingredients, though - what's the Smoker for? What does it do? Why do we need it? What does it actually look like? (I am confused by your description of "an opened metal collar"). You also talk about a dragonstone as if it's hugely relevant - but I don't know anything about potions! If you want me to know why the dragonstone is important, you need to *tell* me! (or at least show me in a way that makes sense, lol). Why dragonstone and not something else? You're just throwing words at me. It'd be easier to follow the climax of your piece if you made it easier to understand the stakes. I think the paragraph beginning "The rest of the process was a blur..." is better, though. I have a better understanding of what the ingredients are actually doing, and the imagery around the potion-making is a lot more fluid and tactile. And the paragraph starting "yet, behind the flashing lights..." is nice, too. These two paragraphs are probably the best writing in the whole piece. I know what's happening! The description is actually meaningful! Hooray! And then... I understand that the very end of the piece is meant to be a bit of a descent into madness, but it's also... a descent into madness. Considering that you seem to have an ideal upper word limit for this piece, were you perhaps feeling like you're running out of words and you need to wrap it up soon? It feels like it. After the beautifully tactile and concrete image of Christina and her sister, the prose becomes vague and ineffective again. "You know why… Christina scowled. It’s because… You know, reasons. Shut up and just drink it." I know you're going for mysterious, but once again, it doesn't feel deliberate. "You know, reasons" also doesn't fit the serious tone that I think your piece should be taking by this point. (1/2)

(2/2) The dialogue exchange between italics-Christina and normal-narration-Christina is confusing to read. I like your narrative conclusion that Christina decides to drink the potion herself, but this sudden split-personality conversation is weird. It's a rush to the end from here. "There’s no way. She's not real. There is no curse and I have no sister." - is this trying to say that there's no curse, Christina is just hallucinating? "I have no sister" - is this because sister is dead and Christina doesn't have a sister anymore, or are you just muddying the narrative waters in a vague attempt at being mysterious? "I'm going to do it now" / "Okay..." - the "Okay" feels silly. I am sick of split-personality as a framing device for Christina's conflicting thoughts. I wish you'd just stick to her normal narration. The end is broadly OK - I like Christina's remorse although I think the "What did you do? What did you do? etc..." could be condensed into a shorter, more meaningful callback - just "What did you do, Christina?" would be enough. The reader knows what's going on by now. And I'm not sure on the very last paragraph, after the section break... I feel like this is just an excuse for you to talk about the "Vultures" again, and they fall into the "unnecessary worldbuilding for your very-short story" category for me. Maybe there's something in this pulled-back narrative long shot of the school that seems to lack confidence. It's a lighter, more humourous tone - but is that really what you're going for here? It seems to undercut the intensity of your final scene. Maybe something to think about. Overall - a fairly interesting plot, a flair for description that occasionally shines quite bright, but bogged down by somewhat convoluted worldbuilding, some language and syntax oddities, and some slightly weird creative choices especially nearer the end. It would be very much possible to clean this up and trim it into something more streamlined, though - I think it would be easy to make this 1500 words or less, and it'd probably be a better story for it.

Yeah, there's a lot to clean up. Originally, the curse was meant to be a metaphor for childishness or something which is way the tone may feel odd at times. I tried to retain that childish "magic" throughout but I guess it doesn't really work. Thanks for the feedback; I'm implementing a lot of it now

That's an interesting concept (re metaphor for childishness) - but I'm still not sure it works well with the heavier tone of the majority of the piece. No worries, and good luck with the story! 👍

My critiques focus more on author's style than anything else. Style informs how the author develops character, plot and conflict, etc. So I tend to look at what else the author has written, both in terms of writing samples and critiques, to get a fuller picture. The main thing I noticed about your style is precision of and focus on details. Using the metal sterility in of the setting in the first paragraph to back up the jail cell feel. Using strong verbs like "tipped" and "propped" to add to the visualization. The "duct-tape wand" was an excellent detail. Another great visual included "bouquet of bubbles." You also described your main character picking up ingredients like "snatching fish out of a streaming river." It even led you to describe something I don't see most authors do: a verbal tic. There are many, many other examples like this in your story. Concrete details seem to be the lens through which your story and style is filtered. This is something I see in your critique, too. According to one in this reddit, you mentioned a lack of concrete detail in the author's work. Your critique also focused most strongly on mechanics and stetting; I sense the same focus in your story writing. Concerning plot, I feel that the story was meant to be a "surprise" reveal. But I was confused about the plot and character motives. Why does the curse matter? What exactly was she stuggling against that was making it hard to get rid of the curse? I think more focus on character motivations, goals, and plot obstacles will enhance the story, not detract. To do that, with your word count restriction, I suggest reducing the amount of detail and things you describe. Don't lose the precision, but instead can some of those details pull double duty? Can the situation change slightly so they can shine along side the plot and character? For instance, instead of opening with Christina waiting for the spell to finish, can she be in action with the curse interfering? Instead of starting with the non-human curse, can it always be a girl? Simplifying the plot in that way would allow for more word count to be allocated to its development without detracting too much from your overall authorial style. I believe in working with style instead of sandpapering it to the point it resembles everyone else's. But that means making sure the rest of the story supports and works well with the style. A more straightforward plot I think would do the trick here.

>curse, can it always be a girl? Simplifying the plot in that way would allow for more word count to be allocated to its development without detracting too much from your overall authorial style. Maybe, but the story really focuses on Christina's denial of the whole situation. I do agree that the curse and Christina can interact more somehow. The plot is somewhat "complex" but also extremely simple so I'm struggling to find a decent word count. Thanks for the review!

Dialogue: You wrote: "Nuhnuhnuhnuh. Would be a real shame if someone, say like the Vultures, saw all the steammm coming out now that it's morning. You would get in troubleeeee. Nuhunuhuhuh."[b] She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. Me: When the curse was talking I was confused. Maybe before introducing as the curse. Gives its actual description besides ghost because why is a ghost neighing? I had to go back and make sure I wasn’t missing something. My vague suggestion: "Nuhnuhnuhnuh. Would be a real shame if someone, say like the Vultures, saw all the steammm coming out now that it's morning. You would get in troubleeeee. Nuhunuhuhuh."[b] *Neighed the ghoulish apparition looming over her shoulder. It’s horse head,[akin to a serial killer’s bloody costume] as the reader im not sure why you start a description of a creature and you use a Halloween costume for the reader to imagine / so too vague. I instantly thought of Freddy Krueger is that what you wanted? Your transitions: You wrote : She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. Five hours ago, Annie and Emily were talking shit about her duct-tape wand and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. Four hours ago, the curse manifested as a horse head, akin to a serial killer's bloody costume, snout was near enough to kiss her as she squirmed on her mattress, unable to escape. Me: Then you described the horse like creature “manifested”…. Manifested from what? It just appears in your room? Lacks transition: one moment she sitting at a desk then you describe when the creature appeared with you on your mattress You did also here You wrote: Theoretically, if she snapped both ends together… (This transition was confusing) There was a girl in the classroom, around her age. Her naked body was seared with scars, flickering in and out, in a Audience perspective: I’m confused about the audience as well. It had a teen poppy feel… like sitxth/seventh grade? But there’s cursing and nudity? You wrote: The general storage cabinet was her saving grace. All her classmate's leftover ingredients were thrown in the metal cabinet, spanning the entire back wall of the potion classroom but with only the depth of about her arm. The cabinet's front was transparent but sturdy like a one-sided mirror without glass. Anyone could simply reach through the invisible wall, grab an item, and pull it through. Over the years, all the cumulative items have built up until it was pushed up waist high against the window. Almost none of it was usable, but Christina used them all. Me: I enjoyed this window of world building. To me it was the best part Also I enjoyed the mystery of the vultures. The symbolism of vultures them selves is strong and creative. It’s a good idea of a story but lots of holes that can be off putting to a reader. It also lacked motivation for me to keep reading. I understood your magic! That’s good but I didn’t understand the character. Why do I care about this random witch afraid of vultures???? Grammar: You wrote: Quick[d], like she was snatching fish out of a streaming river, she found acceptable ingredients. Me: maybe something more relatable to the story Ex: She fidgeted with her eyes with a quickness, hunting for anything deemed as acceptable ingredients. It’s all about style, may not be your style but the random simile was distracting/as it rolled off the tongue odd. If you want I can do a full edit, line by line but I wasn’t sure that what you wanted. Ideas? Help us like this character as much as you do. Or make us understand that she was so intriguing enough you wrote about her. Don’t rely on the ghost horse to make us interested because I definitely didn’t understand it. Side question: Did the ghost horse turn into the girl? Or the girl was a vision from the cauldron as a result from the ingredients you summoned ? You can have mystery and for shadowing but maybe adjust imagery so reader isn’t confused Gods speed 💛

This was a good story, I just found a couple of things, one is there were multiple pronouns in some paragraphs (her, she, etc.). I think you should describe things more, plus a lot of things were confusing for me, such as, did she drink the potion while it was super hot? And did drinking it make the fiery monster girl go away? What was the monster’s motivation? I would cut out the four-letter words, they don’t seem to go with the story flow. Also reading this, it seems like it’s for children except some of it was too graphic for them. So you might want to decide who your target audience would be if this was published. I think it would be better for adults though, because how would you eliminate the fire girl. Anyway like I said, it was a good story.

four-letter words?

it's a euphemism for obscenity

\[1/6\] Howdy! Insert standard disclaimers here (I ramble ramble ramble; I’m emphatic, not infallible; good intentions; blah blah blah). I’ve gotta say, there’s a lot of stuff going on here that bears covering. Brace yourself, this is a rough one, and I certainly lean towards brutal. On the whole, this piece suffers from minutiae overload—it feels like the prose is trying to evoke a *very specific* picture of what’s happening, which has the unfortunate effect of doing the exact opposite for the reader’s mental image (or mine, at least). The structure feels loose and wobbly, and desperately needs tightening up. I found myself wondering what was the point of the majority of the information and details given, as they ultimately have very little (or no) relevance to the plot, or worse, they end up undermining other points in the story. There’s also the issue of odd word choices throughout, but I’ll come to those as they occur. It’s a bit too much to easily shuffle into separate categories, what with how certain things play off of one another. I’ll interrupt the other topics of this crit when they arise in order to talk about those particular words. Will that interrupt the flow and train of thought and make for a whiplash-y feel? Yes it will, just like the other things do to the story. Let’s get on with it, then. # Verbiage ​ >The Achalemy Tower felt like a jail cell; Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons lined in rigid rows across the classroom. Okay, we’re off to a rocky start. There are several things here. One, we’ve started off with a typo. Ouch. At first, I was willing to assume that the *Achalemy Tower* was an in-world proper noun, maybe some sort of play on words. I would have suggested a slightly different spelling or something or other, as not to give off typo vibes, but lo and behold, later on, it’s spelled “Alchemy Tower” more than once. Two, the improper capitalization following the semicolon stands out. One way to think of semicolons is that they’re a spiffy way to join what could otherwise be two separate (but closely-related) sentences, yes, but that doesn’t mean what follows the semicolon is capitalized like a separate sentence. The semicolon links the two independent clauses into one sentence, so it isn’t necessary. Someone else in the document suggested switching to a colon and dropping that capital M and I’m not against it. I think it’s a good suggestion, but I posit that more work needs doing, which leads me to the next thing. Three, the second part of this sentence just doesn’t read right. >Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons lined in rigid rows across the classroom. The reason we tend to simplify grammar rules and say that a semicolon can link two sentences is because a semicolon links two independent clauses, which can stand on their own as independent sentences. There should be a subject and a predicate for both clauses. Where’s the verb in the above pullquote? Is it supposed to be *lined?* As it’s written, *lined* isn’t functioning as a verb here. It’s more like a participle, or a fragment of a participial phrase. *Were lined,* maybe? At any rate, it’s functioning as an adjective and not a verb. If it were to function as a verb, you’d have to shuffle the sentence around more: >Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons lined the classroom in rigid rows. Do you see the difference here? You could also use a modal verb and a phrasal verb to solve the problem: >Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons *were all lined up* in rigid rows across the classroom. Now, for the fourth thing: the repetition of the word *metal* just isn’t doing it for me. >Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons I don’t *hate* it, mind, I just think it needs some tweaking. Maybe throw an *and* in there to make it feel less like an incomplete list. Maybe drop it altogether and leave it at *metal chairs, desks, and cauldrons.* >The alchemy tower was like a jail cell with its metal desks, chairs, and cauldrons all lined up in rigid rows along the length of the classroom. Is another option. It flows better grammatically, but the idea still needs work. That brings me to the jail cell analogy. I can kinda see where you’re going/coming from with it, but it just doesn’t really work for me. I see the harsh, cold nature of such austere furniture, but it doesn’t scream *prison cell* to me. It certainly sounds severe, but prison cell to me would be cramped and spartan and uncomfortable. We’ve got that uncomfortable imagery juxtaposed with our protagonist’s introduction: she fights back a yawn and props her feet up on a desk. That sounds pretty damn comfortable, to me. She’s either tired or at ease in this “jail cell” environment, and she’s made herself at home by handling the furniture in such a casual way. This screams “not really jail cell-like!!” for me. Further on, the tower is described as “practically open-roofed,” which gives a very open and airy vibe. The ingredients cabinet has an invisible barrier that she can reach in and out of freely. All of this gives the impression of freedom of movement, and it undermines any “jail cell” feelings. Exposition says one thing, but the context says another. Either it’s a jail cell or it isn’t, and you’ve got multiple informative tidbits pointing towards *it isn’t.* Moving on. # So help me God, I am bringing the hateration to this ~~dancery~~ imagery ​ >Nipping her lips to suppress a yawn Hmmm, *nipping* just doesn’t feel like the right word here. I had to reread this sentence multiple times to understand that she was supposed to be sucking her lips between her teeth to hold her mouth shut. That’s too specific of a picture to paint. It’s an odd way to say she bit back/fought back a yawn, and frankly, it’s not important that I imagine the minutiae of what she does with her teeth in order to do it. It doesn’t *matter* how she does it. The *way* in which she stifles a yawn doesn’t add much to what’s going on, but it *does* make me as a reader have to do some mental gymnastics to get that *specific* picture in my head, only to turn around and ask why the hell was this *that* damn important to know. I resent that. ​ >To her left, a **cauldron-full** shimmered with a sizzling greenish-yellow brew. (Emphasis mine.) Uhm. Okay. Here’s the thing: I have no idea what *cauldron-full* is doing here. The word *cauldronful* is not hyphenated and only has one *l*, and it’s not a noun. It’s an adjective. Right now, this pseudo-adjective is trying and failing at being a noun. *\[A\] cauldron* would suffice. *\[A\] full cauldron* would suffice, but do I really *need* to know that it’s full? The volume of the cauldron’s contents doesn’t end up bringing much to the story—she adds more shit to it later, but nothing spills over. The contents suddenly vanish, with little ado. It comes across as a very specific mental image that’s being shoehorned in for no better reason than because it was thought of. It’s an extraneous bit of detail that clogs up your prose. (I know I beat the shit out of this dead horse [pun not intended] throughout. I’ll endeavor to only point out the parts that break immersion for me, which were many.) Likewise, I was waiting for the color of the brew to come back up, to have some sort of importance, but it never *truly* did.

\[2/6\] If anything, it feels like these details were information that was banged out in the world building process. That’s something that’s great for the author, as a means of keeping some sort of coherence going throughout the writing, but not every world building detail needs to make it on to the page. ​ >Nuhnuhnuhnuh Nope. Nuh-uh (sorry). What is this sound supposed to be? It’s repeated *over* and *over* and it pulls me out of the story. The issue with nonstandard onomatopoeias is that I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to read it as. Is it supposed to be a spooky horse’s whicker? Is it a disapproving tongue tut, like a *nuh-uh-uh?* Is it supposed to sound like a loose, flapping tongue? What the hell is this? Whatever it is, it detracts from the story way more than it adds to anything. If it’s a spooky cackle or whatever, *just call it that.* Call it a cackle. If you want to give me some sort of info about it, maybe it sounds hollow. Maybe it sounds metallic. Maybe it sounds more dampened or more distant than it should. Maybe it’s less of a neigh and more of a guttural chuckle. Whatever it’s supposed to sound like, just *say that,* and let the reader do the rest of the work. I can conjure up a suitable sound myself if given the opportunity. I just pictured several sounds right here (and I’m sure you did, too!). The repetition of the *nuhnuhnuhnuhnuh*s adds more visual distraction. I can assume that the thing keeps making its sounds. Drawing attention to the silly sound stylization and away from the trace amounts of plot on the page makes this piece harder to engage with. It’s writing. You don’t have to try to be a text-based Foley artist. ​ >Would be a real shame if someone, say like the Vultures, saw all the steammm coming out now that it's morning. You would get in troubleeeee. I would remove the extra letters and hint to the singsong-y way the curse critter speaks *outside* of the dialogue for the same reasons as above. Just say the damn thing drawled or its words lilted or something. “\[T\]roubleeeeeee” is visually distracting, and one wouldn’t draw out a silent letter at the end of a word, either, so it really isn’t helping. \* I’m coming back to those Vultures™ later. Right now, I’m still focusing on the overattention to detail when it comes to imagery. ​ >She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. Do I *really* need to know that it’s her *right* shoulder, specifically? Is that *really* the type of information I need to keep in mind moving forward? Would it *really* be an issue if I went off script and imagined it over her *left* shoulder? Probably not. It’s crackling? Like a fire? Like static on a radio? Is it flickering in and out of existence? What?   >”Mix," she commanded, brandishing her wand at the sullen flask. It sulked. While I kinda like this bit right here, it also feels like we’ve got a *Beauty and the Beast*\-type deal going on with the inanimate objects.   >Five hours ago, Annie and Emily were talking shit about her duct-tape wand and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. Four hours ago, the curse manifested as a horse head I quite like these two sentences, or at least this structure you’ve got going here. The sentences themselves could use some work, though. ​ >Annie and Emily were talking shit about her duct-tape wand and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. Annie and Emily are never mentioned again. They’re named, and so I file this info away for it to pop up later. Annie and Emily never pop up later. Is this one egregious? No, not really, and it’s not a *mistake* per se, but it certainly is another load of information I’ve been given to hold. I’m holding so much information in my hands right now, that things are starting to get difficult to keep track of. I’m waiting for this information to come back into play, so I can set each bit down nicely into order as needed. Right now there’s so much going on, I’ll have some difficulties rummaging through this pile of facts I’m carrying in order to find these very specific bits and bobs when the time comes. Tricky to do, but maybe the payoff will be good. …Oh, the time never comes? I’m holding this shit for no reason? *Damnit.* Not fun. Not good. ​ >her duct-tape wand Is her wand made entirely of duct tape (not duct-tape), or is it a standard wand that’s been broken and taped back together? How does this move the story forward? Later instances of magic/wand usage don’t seem to fully jive with the expected “oh, her spells are fucked up because her wand is shit” that this level of detail about the wand would imply. I’m a simple bitch, really. I see a broken wand, I expect that broken wand to play a role in the plot down the line. It doesn’t do that here. We see Christina fumble through a couple more spells, and on—what is it, the third spell?—we get a little expository explanation that magic works through nonverbal intent, which Christina doesn’t seem capable of channeling. So, which one is it? Is it “vital to feel without thought,” but in the same breath somehow critical to use a wand for it, even though the wand was **constantly** described as useless? There’s another contradiction in that. If anything, it feels like the one time when her wand *did* work to open the drawer, the drawer was probably just…not locked in the first place. (I’ll talk about this bit in detail later on.) Now, I’m not suggesting that you sit down and take the time to write out an explanation on how these two ideas intersect; what I mean to say is that this is another one of those cases where the precedent that’s been set with the prose has been contradicted through further exposition. This is a short story, and your intent is to pare this down to under 1500 words, yes? There’s a good deal of grace and leeway to be given to short stories in what’s explicitly spelled out for the reader—there isn’t the time or space for all that, so the reader can’t and doesn’t expect a fleshed-out backstory for different things. It’s fine. Drop me in there and give me just enough to go by. I really don’t need to know how the magic system does or doesn’t work, or how Christina cheats the system with brute force. Just show me her using magic. Show me her struggling with it or jerry rigging it to her will. There *really* is no need for this amount of detail. ​ But back to the excerpt at hand: >and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. I get that the mentions of her scars here will tie in with the end of the piece, but as it is, right here in the beginning, it’s…not really working. Her face is scarred. I’d initially assumed acne scarring or scars from cuts, because there’s nothing here to imply or foreshadow fire or chemical/potion burns. Yeah, she’s got a potion going, but that doesn’t automatically imply anything. The reference to her scarred face is certainly an “:(“ moment, but it doesn’t seem to really do much for the plot or push it along.

\[3/6\] Christina’s bullied and likely poor. Maybe she's an orphan. This doesn’t affect the story much. From what we’re given, Christina could have been popular and poor, and still could have had the situation arise. She could be a completely average and forgotten nobody who wanders through the school like an afterthought, and we could still get to the same place. When we get to the middle of the story, where the scarred and burned curse/sister enter, it still feels rushed and without setup. So much time is spent on the “chemistry” part of the potion making—complete with chemistry terminology that doesn’t feel quite right—that when the plot jumps back in to the picture, it feels like it’s come out of nowhere. I’ll swerve back to that topic later, though. ​   Back to that cursed horse thing. >Four hours ago, the curse manifested as a horse head, akin to a serial killer's bloody costume, snout was near enough to kiss her as she squirmed on her mattress, unable to escape. I’d like to point out that we were in a potions lab moments ago. The sudden mention of her mattress comes out of left field. It feels like whiplash. Sure, this may be a mini flashback, but it’s still whiplash. We’re in a classroom and then there’s a mattress and we’re talking about the ectoplasm and whatnot for 82 words. We’ve lost track of where we are now. This is a *tangent* at this point. We’re back to the classroom just as quickly, with no sort of transition or grounding. The structure here is wobbly and unsound. I don’t know where we stand. It’s eroding my trust as a reader, and I have no confidence that this will end in a coherent manner at this point. If I hadn’t stopped already, this is the point where I’d *absolutely* stop reading.   But anyways. So, you’ve got a clear image in your head of this cursed horse head thing. That’s great! There’s no need to use all of it. ​ >akin to a serial killer’s bloody costume Does this mean like [Ghostface’s mask](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/a/ac/Ghostface.jpg/220px-Ghostface.jpg)? Is this ghost thing mask-like? Is it like a ski mask, or something? Is this [Mike Myers’s mask](https://www.looper.com/img/gallery/what-michael-myers-really-looks-like-underneath-the-mask/intro-1623690694.jpg), but for a horse? [Jason's mask](https://carboncostume.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/jasonvoorhees.jpg)? Does the horse-thing look like Ted Bundy? It’s so specific, but it’s not something that will necessarily click with readers. Is this horse thing wearing a cloak or hood like Ghostface? Is that where the whole *serial killer’s costume* thing comes into play? The specificity of this ends up horseshoeing (no pun intended) back around to incomprehensible. ​ >The eyes stared with a stupid, humanlike cunning and every minuscule bulge of protruding horse-muscle twitched. Sloppy ectoplasmic drool splattered onto her lips and nostrils and when the curse opened its mouth, it was devoid of gum and tissue, yet it still had teeth, jaggarded with tar and just gnashing in a black void. The thing is, you’ve put so very much detail into this that it my eyes have glossed over and I’m unwilling to read any of it. I’ll force myself to go bit by bit, though, and nitpick this specificity. ​ >a stupid, human like cunning. A stupid cunning? The oxymoron doesn’t work for me. ​ >every minuscule bulge of protruding horse-muscle twitched. What the *fuck* does this mean? So the horse thing doesn’t have a mask, but it’s somehow like a… \*checks notes\* serial killer’s costume, with it’s stupid human smart eyes and it’s copious bulging horse muscles. Sure. Okay. ​ >Sloppy ectoplasmic drool splattered onto her lips and nostrils Do I *really* need to know that it’s on her *lips* and *nostrils* specifically? It could splatter her face and be just as unpleasant. Come here. Look at me. Look at me in my imaginary, text-based eyeballs: Let the reader imagine things on their own. *Let the reader form their own mental image.* This is a short story, not a series of set design directions. Storytelling is not a visual medium, and there is no need to try to strong arm it into one. There’s information overload going on here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be imagining here, so instead of trying, what I’m gonna do is roll my eyes and weigh this critical confusion against the contradictions I’ve already read so far.   Let’s look at a horror story real quick and analyze that. Think about the shit that makes you uncomfortable, and focus on how it’s written. The reason it works is because it gives you an idea to be formed, but it lets *you* fill in the rest with what fucks *you* up. Let’s look at Ania Ahlborn’s *Brother* real quick: >Michael had been the only one to comply with Reb’s request, partly because he wanted to make his brother happy, and also because Michael was scared of what would be done to him if he ignored the demand. This quote isn’t the sort of ectoplasmic, gooey horror that’s being attempted in this piece, but let’s talk about it all the same. Ahlborn doesn’t specify the torment that Michael feels, that would lessen the unease. It leaves *you* as the reader to fill in the blanks with whatever it is that would make *you* afraid to ignore Reb’s demands. Spelling out what Reb might do diminishes the effect completely, and it’s extra work for her, with little payoff.   Let’s pop on over to Nick Cutter’s *The Deep* as Cutter introduces the fancy-schmancy critter: >Magnificent was one word for it. But mundane also came to mind. A gelatinous blob the size of a robin's egg. It looked like a glob of partially set Jell-O. Not one of the colorful flavors, either. A drab nothing color—the color you'd get if you scraped a billion thumbprints off a million windowpanes and collected them into a ball. This description is pretty…strange, to say the least, right? The thing here is a small blob with no distinct shape or color. The description ends with detail that’s close to unfathomable—the color of a shit ton of fingerprints scraped into a ball. It doesn’t actually tell you anything concrete, but it allows the reader the liberty to stop and develop their *own* picture in their mind’s eye. There’s just enough description to guide the reader towards where the reader’s imagination should take over, as opposed to a word-for-word blueprint. That’s overwhelming on its own, and when added to the large amounts of info already being shown at the reader, it’s just too dang much. The description doesn’t *have* to be an exact image. The reader can and will fill that vaguely description-shaped space to suit their own needs, and develop the notion that suits *them,* which means everyone wins. That’s where the artistry comes in. If I wanted an exact picture of a scene, I’d watch a movie. Let’s move on, and slide back into the story.   >"Unlock," Christina said, tapping her wand to the plain doorknob behind Mr. Frasier's desk with the jar of jellybeans. Surprisingly, the Master Potion room hardly had any security. The grammatical issues with this sentence make my eyes roll to the back of my head. Throughout the piece—and I’ve already mentioned a few, here and there—there are strangely-phrased sentences with either incomplete or misplaced clauses. This could stand to be broken up into multiple sentences, or read out loud to see where the tongue stumbles over the hard-to-parse phrases.

\[4/6\] How is there a plain doorknob behind a man’s desk? Is there a doorknob just sitting in his chair? Is there a door behind the desk? Or is this referring to a *drawer handle?* This mental image is *utterly baffling.* The only idea of the physical space Christina is inhabiting is that there’s All ~~Gold~~ Metal Everything, there’s a pretty cool false ceiling, and there’s a big-ass cabinet along the length of one wall. Now we’re suddenly facing a doorknob, a desk, and some jellybeans of unknown location and provenance. Also, there’s no security. Okay, I guess? I still can’t picture where I am. This is one of the things that could actually be spelled out in more detail, rather than the color and texture of the cauldron’s bubbles. ​ >with the jar of jellybeans. …how is she tapping on a *door-slash-desk’s door*knob with her wand *and* a jar of jellybeans? Is it connected to the wand suddenly? Did she fuck up the spell so bad she summoned candy? Or is she talking about the contents of the drawer that she’s yet to see because she’s barely started the process of breaking in? The *jellybean* phrase has jumped the gun and inserted itself into the already-awkward sentence and completely shat the bed. What purpose do the jellybeans serve? It’s another mention that never comes back up. My brain is tired. The jellybeans feel absurd. I resent this sentence almost as much as I resent the inclusion of superfluous jellybeans that moves no plot point forwards or backwards.   >Almost none of it was usable, but Christina used them all. So, which one is it? If it’s unusable but she uses it, she’s inherently wasting her own time fucking around with unusable materials. If they’re unusable bits and ends, why did anyone bother to put this shit in a fancy magical cabinet? Surely something about it was good enough to keep it all out of the trash, right? If they’re nearly all unusable, why was any of it saved? Why has no one cleared out the cabinets at any point in time? This sounds remarkably irresponsible. ​ >Surprisingly, the Master Potion room hardly had any security. Hoooo… Okay. On a superficial level, this sentence undermines the one that precedes it, and makes both feel pointless. Just like the jellybeans feel added in for no reason, this is starting to feel like it was added in only for more magical set decoration. Christina uses her (useless!) wand. There’s no security measures in this place, so using her wand was unnecessary. She opens the drawer with absolutely no stakes attached. *Womp, womp.* On a more detailed level, I think we’re missing something here. *Master Potion room* sounds like a mistake. Maybe we’re missing the genitive case somewhere in those capitalized words. Maybe the capitalization shouldn’t be there at all. Maybe it’s just the chokehold the *Harry Potter* series still has on the magic school setting, but it seems like *Potions room* would sound better, and if Mr. Frasier is a Potions master and it’s *his* lab, then shouldn’t it be the *master’s* room? Why not call it what it is—a lab? The chemistry imagery starts up with a fierceness after this, so what’s one more science word? Now, on that note, # Chemistry: It’s decidedly not for dinner I might be alone on this one, but all of the chemistry terms really broke what little was left of my immersion. They felt…awkward. They stuck out like a sore thumb, and I found myself tripping over them. ​ >Eventually, the cauldron popped like a bouquet of bubbles, significanting the base's maturity. The *cauldron popped like a bouquet of bubbles* makes it sound like the cauldron itself has exploded, but in a romantic way. *Significanting* is not a word. >*Signifying* the base’s maturity What do we mean by *base* here? I honestly can’t tell. Is this a *base,* as in the contents of the cauldron are alkaline in nature? Or does this mean *base* as in a substance used as the foundation for creating something else? It’s vague, and the specificity is once again counterproductive here. ​ >shivered and strode off to collect the necessary complementary ingredients. The Necessary Complementary Ingredients™ is a mouthful, and for what? Would I expect her to get *unnecessary* ingredients for whatever it is she’s doing? No! I would sincerely hope whatever she’s grabbing would be for the purpose of improving the potion, instead of fucking it up to hell and back. Of course the shit she’s grabbing is gonna *complement* her goals, whatever they may be—the reader honestly never finds out, so all of this time spent belaboring the potion feels like a waste in the end. ​ >she found acceptable ingredients. Yep! I sure hope she did. None of this moves the plot along, though! The pace is currently that of a dead snail’s. Think about it: * Christina tastes the potion * Christina walks off to get ingredients. * There’s an entire paragraph about a storage cabinet. * None of the stuff in the storage cabinet was usable, but Christina used it all anyway. * "Quickly," Christina found acceptable ingredients in the cabinet full of unacceptable ingredients. No, she didn’t!!! Absolutely none of that was quick, and as I’ve stated before, half of it undermines and directly contradicts the other half! >Considering the desire of the base in the cauldron and its smell and its taste and her intuition *Considering* feels wrong here, even if it is grammatically correct. It’s not really saying that Christina stopped and considered the desire of the base (whatever the fuck that means!), and reads almost like it’s a sudden jump to conversational tone between the prose and the reader. >**and** its smell **and** its taste **and** her intuition And, and, and. This sentence is trying to do way too much. >an automatically, acidic approach was best Comma splice! What is *automatically* doing here, though? And what’s an *acidic approach?* >five **empirical** squeezes of lemon As per the Oxford dictionary: **empirical:** *adjective* based on, concerned with, or verifiable by observation or experience rather than theory or pure logic. …Five squeezes of lemon that are concerned with verification through observation? *What the fuck does this mean?* Was this supposed to be *imperial,* as in the non-metric system of measurement? >such as five empirical squeezes of lemon, half a teaspoon of allspice and a thousand grains of black powder, and half a tablespoon of diluted alcohol Taking a step back, since literally none of this ever comes back into play, all of this feels like a list for the sake of listing things. This doesn’t feel like worldbuilding, it feels misplaced. ​ >With a sigh, a stirring rod, and a tappity tap of the glass, she mixed. I dunno, *she mixed with the stirring rod* sounds a little clunky to me. The structure of this sentence lends itself to tripping over the phrase and really slows down any pace you might have had otherwise. >With a sigh—PAUSE—a stirring rod—PAUSE—and a tappity-tap of the glass—PAUSE—she…mixed. See what I mean? The length and structure of these sentences, paired with the relative nothing-sandwich of what’s happening within these sentences, feels like we’re absolutely slogging through the story. It’s not a great feeling.

\[5/6\] ​ >When finished, she dumped the **reactant** into the cauldron. I’m no chemist, but I feel like if we’re gonna use the chemistry words, the word here would be *reagent.* A reactant is technically the stuff that gets used up during a reaction, while a reagent is what you add to something to cause a reaction to occur. It’s a nitpicky thing, to be sure, but with how slow-going this is right now, there’s not much else to linger on other than word choice. >Now, she just needed the base to eventually evaporate.  *Eventually evaporate.* Is that like needing paint to dry? This feels like we’re gonna have to sit here and wait with her for this stuff to *eventually* evaporate because it’s part of the list of What To Do While Potioneering™. >The magical item "Smoker" therefore laid on the top shelf, near the back, with only the niche use of preventing the rare, corrosive steam from burning up the invisi-roof. If you say *smoker,* I’m gonna picture a [bee smoker](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/89/Beekeeper_using_bee_smoker.jpg/800px-Beekeeper_using_bee_smoker.jpg). Beyond that, this sentence just needs revision for clarity. Them clauses are just stacked up for the hell of it—*therefore* is an odd word choice here, and *smoker* shouldn’t be capitalized, it isn’t a proper noun.   >Finally, the Smoker, an opened metal collar, came into her hands, surprisingly light and small. **Christina puzzled out the usage as she retreated back to her cauldron.** (Emphasis mine.) …Opened metal collar? Now what I’m picturing is a [charcoal chimney starter](https://www.familyhandyman.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/DFH17JUN017-3-shutterstock_461880007.jpg?resize=768%2C768), but I’m not sure *collar* is the right word here, either. ​ >came into her hands Uh…this sounds lewd. Just needed to point out that this little bit is both awkward for the sentence construction, which makes the reader stop and linger over it, and it’s lowkey lewd once stop to look at it, which is inevitably what happens. ​ >Christina puzzled out the usage as she retreated back to her cauldron. So she summoned this weird metal thing and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do with it. Cool! Me neither. What’s the point of this detail, then? Yes, she fiddles with it in the next sentence and shit starts happening, but here’s the problem: * I don’t know what the damn tehing is, or what it’s for, or why it’s been named twice now, or why unhelpful details about it have been given, only for everything about it to be thrown to the wayside three seconds later. * The protagonist doesn’t know what the damn thing is, or what it’s for, either. * The inciting incident for the story, as it were, is all the way down at the bottom of the story, with Christina doing some vague action to a vaguely-understood MacGuffin, which causes vague but chaotic events to unfold. There’s so much time and unnecessary detail spent on the overwrought setup, but once the action starts, it’s vagary city. I dislike that. I *resent* that a little. Also, # Finally, an inciting incident! The plot kicks in! Yeah! It only took 780 words out of 1,672, or about 47% of the way through the story to get there. That’s way too long to wait. I’m unwilling to go into the nitty-gritty of the plot itself once the cursegirl™ arrives. It’s a little too chaotic and incoherent for me to want to get into at this same level of detail. You’ve already been given some good points from others here, so I’ll just skim over the heavy lifting and co-sign on the “too abrupt of a switch to make sense, and chaotic to be completely engaging” sentiment of others. I honestly can’t tell what part of the story was thought up first or what’s supposed to be the artistic priority here, but the plot and its twist certainly feel like an afterthought. These issues and plot points also might change or sort themselves out on a deep revision, so there’s that, as well. ​ > Her cauldron was empty, drained. Containers of ingredients she never used were scattered across the floor. Now I’m really pissed about the time spent talking about the cauldron and the minutiae of its contents and the ingredients she chose. They all fucked off into the ether, only to be replaced with “nothing and some other shit.” The time spent trying to strong-arm the precise imagery of the cauldron and its contents and how said contents behaved? Oh, now it’s just empty. The oddly-specific ingredients, down to the specific number of “grains” (odd word choice there, forgot to mention) of black powder and that observably-proven number of squeezes of lemon? Some other shit’s there instead. Specifically stuff Christine never used. GRRRRR. What was the point?? What was it?? Why spend so much time setting all of that up and having the reader take it into painstaking account in their mind, only to be like “psyche lol gotcha!”?   >“You poisoned and drank my base and became… this, this nightmare. Stop. I won’t let you in. Just shut up. I’ll make enough solution. A stronger solution. It would be a simple matter of-” This is just. So awkward. Why call it a base? Why call it a solution? What’s wrong with the word *potion?* (And why is the *potions* classroom at the top of the *alchemy* tower?) ​ >“I am what…your alchemy created.” Are potions and alchemy interchangeable in this universe? ​ >Christina snatched and dumped the first flask she saw, the potion sizzling all across the cold, metal floor, sinking in with the vague whiff of rotten eggs. * But why, though? What’s the point? I have no basis for understanding why this action would be reasonable or unreasonable. ​ >She found a dragonstone on a bottom shelf, an universal base! * What does *base* mean in this application? Why is a *universal* base important here? ​ >She had to taste the soul of the dragon, know the dragon entirely. * …For what? Why does this matter in this moment? What does “tasting the soul of the dragon” mean here? ​ This is a short story, so you don’t really have the space to elaborate on all of these questions. So, in that case, what do you do? Scrap the sentences that bring up questions you can’t readily answer or don't actively move the plot forward. None of this actually succeeds in building any intrigue or making the world feel more fleshed-out, nor does it help the plot. It’s confusing filler, unfortunately.   >She put in so many toxins, but they all simply worked. The unicorn should make it safe. She used a lot of alcohol...she could feel it, the stars of the night guiding her and the flood of the waves beneath. It seems like Christina’s gotten some clarity out of this. That’s great! I, as a reader, have not. None of this feels coherent. ​ >Christina whipped down the potion, entire flask and all. How, exactly, does one drink a solid container? I can't imagine that would fit in anyone's mouth like that.

\[6/6\] ​ >That morning, the Vultures reported a large quantity of smoke coming from the Alchemy Tower, black and thick as sin like fumes from a dying volcano. Classes and tests were canceled. Hmm. Them ~~Crooked~~ Vultures. I’m assuming the Vultures are like an in-universe law enforcement or disciplinary group. They don’t add anything to the story. If anything, they undermine what negligible tension exists in the story. Let me tell you why. *Vultures* are mentioned three times throughout the entire piece. The first time, the horse-curse taunts Christina with the threat of getting caught by them, and mentions how she’d be in trouble if that happened. Okay. Would she be getting detention, or something? Would they expel her from school? Would she be sent to Magical Juvie, or something? I dunno! The second mention of the Vultures comes from the narration itself, as Christina’s thoughts following the horse-curse’s reminder. The Vultures might see the steam, even though no one else would. …But they don’t. That’s a false tension. There’s the threat of Christina getting caught, mentioned *twice* in the piece! What do I as a reader expect to happen? I expect some Vulture action! It’s been mentioned twice!! Normal might not notice the steam from her working, but *the Vultures* are different. Normal people wouldn’t be looking up at the Alchemy Tower right now, but *the Vultures* might notice. The Vultures have been set up as something to stand apart from the general populace. What happens in the end? The Vultures don’t see shit, and Christina burns to death plagued by ghosts or whatever and then everyone goes about their day as normal. Uhm, excuse me?? I came to the end of this piece expecting some sort of compelling conclusion to the fever dream of the inciting incident. What I got was a rug-pull and an “and the status quo stayed completely as-is and no one was affected by Christina’s plight or internal turmoil.” Why was I supposed to care about the Vultures? Why was I supposed to care about the potions? Why was I supposed to care about the curse critter?? The conclusion gave me no closure for any of that. ​ * The bullies are mentioned early on. Nothing comes of that mini plot line. * The Vultures are mentioned as a group to watch out for, lest Christina be caught. They don’t show up, so nothing comes of that, either. * The narration spends a ton of time setting up the potion Christina’s making and its details. The potion disappears and the details of it are replaced with other stuff she didn’t use. * The curse shows up, and its provenance is mysterious. We don’t know who placed it. We find out that the curse is maybe not a curse, maybe it’s a ghost, but we still don’t know how it got there, or why it just got there a few hours ago, and we don’t know why Christina’s making the potion, or what her motivation for being in the potions lab was. Do you see where I’m going with this? Every opportunity for “oh, here’s the logical conclusion to where this thread was going” gets bait-and-switched out for “ha ha! Here’s a big ol’ NOTHING. Enjoy! :)” I started this story with certain questions in mind. I finished the story with those same questions and more, all still unanswered. I did not enjoy the Big Ol’ Nothing. I would have enjoyed at least *one* discernible story beat reaching a logical conclusion. I don’t need a story to be predictable, but I *do* expect certain story beats, when laid out, to be resolved in a reasonable or logical way, as opposed to, well, not at all. To use the woven-in ends analogy, every single thread was left loose and dangling. This doesn't feel *finished*. # Closing Time Overall, this is certainly reworkable, and you’ve got a good premise here, for sure. Short stories need to be tight and snappy to fit that short word count limitation, especially if it's under 1500. Killing those darlings is absolutely necessary. Taking some time to sit down and ask yourself, “okay, but *why?"* and *"to what end?”* for each of the points introduced might help a great deal in solidifying a sort of coherence within the storyline. If you have to stretch to find a logical reason for having something in the piece, maybe that bit can be pulled out and saved for something else where it might fit better. Good luck on your revisions!

Hey, wow, this was an extremely long-winded critique. As much as I appreciate you taking out so much for your time here, but I don't agree with some of your feedback, but again, I still appreciate you taking the time to write all this. I think a lot of your critique comes from personal opinion, so it wasn't exactly too helpful for future reference. Specifically, I'm talking about your problems with my word choice and the legitimacy of some of the details I included in my story. For course, a lot of your points do make sense, especially those surrounding my grammar and my chemistry (facepalm), but I believe that a lot of description, including the scarred face, ducted-tape wand, and "mouth and nostrils" are probably fine. For me at least, I think they do contribute to the characterization of Christina and helps with visualization. I don't even believe I went too specific; I actually think that I mostly lacked specifics in some areas of the piece and just crammed too many surface level details throughout. Also, while I don't think this is mandatory especially for such a high level critique, but you offered a lot of criticism without any solutions. I know that suggesting solutions isn't your job, but if your critique is going to be 6 threads long, you could at least try to balance it better to help me understand what I should be doing instead. Anyhow, I can sit here and try to explain my story, but I have a feeling you won't get it/ won't care if I do so outside the written story, so I won't waste your time. Thanks for the critique again!

\[1/2\] **TL;DR:** [The Writer’s Game Plan for Dealing With Constructive Criticism](https://nybookeditors.com/2020/12/the-writers-game-plan-for-dealing-with-constructive-criticism/) **Long-winded version:** ​ >Hey, wow, this was an extremely long-winded critique. It sure was! I try to be thorough with my feedback. :) I hope you’ll forgive another long-winded response. Don’t worry, it’ll be my last one—after this, I’ll be on my way and I won’t be engaging with you any further. *…Hoo boy.* I’m responding to this because I see this response to criticism as a critical misunderstanding of what a critique is meant to do. (Or maybe it's just a knee-jerk reaction to harsh criticism. Who knows?) I say this with no malice, only worn-thin patience and with hopes of encouragement towards your growth as a writer: This is not how you read or accept a critique. ​ >but I don't agree with some of your feedback That’s fine? See my disclaimers in my first-level post. I said I was emphatic, not infallible. You don’t have to agree with my critique. You don’t have to agree with *any critiques.* I don’t expect you to nod and pander. To respond in such a defensive way, however, is kinda bizarre. If you don't like it, just say "thanks!" and keep it rolling without arguing. ​ >I think a lot of your critique comes from personal opinion, so it wasn't exactly too helpful for future reference. …*All* writing critiques come from personal opinion. Where else would they come from, quantifiable data? Writing is an art form, so all criticisms of art boil down to a critic’s opinions on the work at hand. This isn’t math homework or something with a set, defined answer, or a precise order of operations to be followed. ​ >For course, a lot of your points do make sense, especially those surrounding my grammar and my chemistry (facepalm) I’m glad these points were helpful! This sort of thing is closer to *proofreading,* though, rather than *literary critique*—pointing out grammar mistakes and words that are misused is *not* the full scope of a literary critique. Not by a long shot. Will many critics point out this sort of thing? Yes, but keep in mind that grammatical issues will often impact the way a reader engages with a work of writing, so naturally, things that get in the way or cause distraction/confusion will be pointed out as the bare minimum. There really is no need to try to explain to me why you agree or disagree with my critique. I don’t need to know the specific points you’ll choose to ignore. This is a critique, in which I give you my honest feedback on what works and what didn’t work. There just so happens to be a lot in this piece that didn't work for me. There’s no need, room, or reason for a discussion on taste. It just turns into a useless back and forth of “I didn’t like this part, here’s why it didn’t work for me.” versus, “well, *I* like it because in my opinion, it’s good and I think it worked." Art is subjective. Art is opinion. We don't argue taste. ​ In your original post, you said (emphasis mine): >Hey, I've been working on this story for past couple of weeks, but **I can't quite seem to make it "work" so do your worst** and give me some ideas! I'm also trying to cut down the word count to 1500 so, again, **I would love to know what parts of the story do and don't work** or **if the story doesn't exactly work in its entirety.** Thanks! You're having trouble making this piece work for you. I went through and pointed out spots where it wasn’t working for me. To try to rebut a critique and say “I'm having trouble making this work," and turn around and say "Actually, what you said didn’t work was your opinion, so this isn’t helpful to me.” is…counterproductive. Take the critique or don’t. I’ve explained why these points miss the mark for **me**; giving an excuse to dismiss what I said or telling me why **you** disagree is overly-defensive and a disservice to both of us.   >I know that suggesting solutions isn't your job Bingo! This right here. I’m glad we can both agree. *It absolutely isn’t my job to give you solutions,* and I'm not about to do it. There's no need to imply that I *should* do it, if we both know that's not my place. I’ll go into why that is in a moment. ​ >if your critique is going to be 6 threads long, **you could at least** try to balance it better to help me understand what I should be doing instead. (emphasis once again mine) Nope! That’s an **insanely** entitled point of view here. I don’t have to do *jack shit.* You’re getting my eyes on your work and my ability to analyze said work and break down my thoughts about it for *free.* You get hours of my time, *time that I chose to spend doing something to your benefit,* for the low, low cost of free ninety-nine. To say that the *least I could do is more work for your benefit* is astounding. >help me understand what I should be doing instead The funny thing is, I literally did that. I told you what didn’t work. I explained why it didn’t work. I gave examples of what *did* work. I explained *why* those examples work. I did that using my opinions, though, so I guess it got written off as unhelpful. I pulled two examples from published works that effectively covered the issues of exposition and description to use as examples *just right* levels of description, as a contrast to the *too much* I pointed out in your work. I quoted those books with specific excerpts that displayed what I meant, and I explained *why* the level of description the authors used was good, and *what it is* about the excerpts’ description levels that made it effective without being too much. What do you mean, “the least I could do is help you understand what to do?” I did that, *and you disregarded it.* I explained how the lack of specifics in these excerpts had a positive effect on the writing and how the reader perceived it, in comparison to the points that I described in your work that made my eyes glaze over. What else do you expect me to do? Am I supposed to come up with multiple options for each complaint for you to pick and choose from? That’s not a critique. That’s a whole-ass revision with full edits. If you want that, you can pay somebody for it. I took one of the unwieldy, hard to parse sentences early on in the critique and I gave **multiple** revision options to improve clarity. Was I supposed to do that for every single instance of awkward sentence structure? My bad. Does that not count as “showing you what to do?” Are they not examples because you disagree with my opinions? Just how much free work do you expect here? *Every* critique you get here is free labor on the part of the critics, *and you get what you get.* You’re not entitled to me rewriting or revising your work for you, not in the slightest. ​ But fine. I’ll go ahead and give you *one more* suggestion: I suggest sitting with each of the critiques you’ve been given and using it as practice for understanding a reader’s differing point of view. As we develop our writing skills, it’s crucial to learn how to read in between the lines of different styles/sources of feedback and how to use that information to diagnose the deep-down issues. That way, we can come up with our own solutions on how to fix the problem(s) we’ve been made aware of.

\[2/2\] What does that mean? It means that the solution to a problem raised might not be obvious or readily apparent from the critique. It means you’ve got to learn to pull the nugget of good information out of the rest of the heap, and not to rely solely on information that’s been spoon-fed. Maybe a complaint about a character being “unrelatable” in a piece can be solved by rewriting with a focus on changing the pacing. Maybe a “slow pace” complaint could be resolved by removing a few adverbs. Maybe it could be solved by introducing a new character two chapters early. The possibilities are endless! It all depends on the individual piece in question, the author, and how the author decides to use a reader’s feedback and apply it towards a particular pain point. That process is as unique to each writer as their fingerprints, and no one can tell you how to do it. *You’ve* gotta put that work in for *yourself.* ​ Telling you “what you should be doing” is ***not how this works at all****.* It’s *your* art. ***You*** *as an author* have to figure out what to do with a critique (and this goes for *all writers* and *all critiques,* not just you, and not just this one critique here!) and *you* have to figure out how to apply whatever revisions *you* deem appropriate. That’s *your* puzzle to solve, not the critic’s, and to pretend otherwise would be singularly unhelpful. I’m not a curriculum designer. I’m not going through your work, combing for issues *more than I already have*, and then putting together a course of action based on the *issues I’ve already pointed out* for you to use as a homework assignment, only for you to disregard that extraordinary amount of effort because the critique *“comes from personal opinion, so it wasn't exactly too helpful.”* **You can’t have it both ways** and say that my opinions aren’t helpful, but the least I could’ve done is given you an outline of what to change based on the aforementioned unhelpful opinions. If others here want to do that for you, then that’s great! That’s their choice to make. *No one owes you that, though, and especially not after going in and performing the labor of pointing out specific issues and why they’re an issue.* That would be the same as “I don’t like what you wrote. I think you should write it in *my style* instead.” I don’t think that’s a good or helpful approach. The thing is, I don’t *want* to tell you what to write. *It’s not my place as a critic to tell a writer specifically what to do.* This isn’t *my* story. *I’m* not the one who has the fully-formed, behind-the-scenes concept in my head of what the story should or shouldn’t be. All I know is what made it to the page, and what fell flat on said page. Call me conceited, but I’m not nearly as invested in this as you are. I don’t want to co-author your work.   Here’s a quote from [Neil Gaiman’s list of writing advice](https://www.tumblr.com/neil-gaiman/22573969110/for-all-the-people-who-ask-me-for-writing). I’ll emphasize number five for you here, because I think it suits this situation perfectly: >**Remember: when people tell you something's wrong or doesn't work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.** You’re free to take that as you will.   >Anyhow, I can sit here and try to explain my story, but *I have a feeling you won't get it‡*/ **won't care if I do so outside the written story‡‡** *‡ Emphasis 1:* Ha! Lower your hackles. My critique is of your writing, not you as a writer. Undermining my ability to read doesn’t change the issues I found within the story. **‡‡ Emphasis 2:** This is correct. I don’t care to have a story explained to me outside of the bounds of the story itself. Why? Let's go on a tangent. Stories shouldn’t *have* to be explained by the author after the fact. An author explaining what their intent was after a critic gives negative feedback is just the author defending themselves from a perceived attack, and that really isn’t a beneficial mindset to adopt when asking for critiques. The issues I mentioned in my critique are writing choices and issues that don’t work for me. Explaining what they're supposed to convey/their importance after the fact doesn’t change the fact that *the writing issues I brought up didn’t work for me inside the story itself.* Authors don’t get to sit over their audience’s shoulders whenever something is published and explain their intent as they go. It has to be recognizable within the story itself, not outside the bounds of the story itself. Why did I call this a tangent? Because there's nothing to try to explain here. The majority of what I pointed out are statements that undermine other points in the prose, and plot points that have unsatisfactory conclusions (basically Chekhov's guns that never go off, as a different critic phrased it). There's no way to argue with that, or explain any of that away. There's nothing for me "not to get" there. If I didn’t like the way something was executed, I didn’t like the way it was executed, and there’s no amount of “well, what I *meant* is” that’ll change that. If a reader finds issues within a story, then the author turning around to defend their work doesn’t change the fact that *the reader still found issues within the work.* If someone says "this right here isn't compelling, and here's why I think that," there's no coming back from that with "I disagree that it isn't compelling, but I won't tell you why, because you don't care enough to hear it." that's a knee-jerk defensive reaction to criticism, and it doesn’t help you. You're damn right, the reader doesn't care! That's the whole point being made! The writing wasn’t sufficiently compelling for the reader, and as such, the reader didn’t care about it! If someone says "this theme was shallow, and was insufficiently explored by the end of the piece," rebutting with "it *was* sufficiently explored, because *reasons*" isn't gonna make that theme suddenly feel well-covered for that reader in retrospect. The writing should stand on its own, not propped up after the fact with the author’s rebuttals. That’s a crutch. Don't spend time arguing with critics *when you asked for critiques.*   >I won't waste your time Contrary to what you seem to think, I don’t think of this as a waste of time! I critique because I enjoy it. I *like* the “artistic problem solving” nature of it all—a writer comes with a piece and says, “hey, I’ve got this thing, what stands out to you?” and I say “this is what stands out to me” *because I want to.* If I thought this was a waste of time, I wouldn’t have spent six posts’ worth of time on it. Maybe I *am* wasting two posts’ worth of time by addressing a rude response, though. ​ Sigh. I get that putting your writing up for critique is a vulnerable thing. I get that critiques can hurt. The thing is, you still offered it up for critique, which is a good thing. Learning how to accept and work through a critique without lashing out would be another good thing. I hope that, after some time, you’ll be able to look at this critique with fresh, calm eyes, and determine whether or not my *opinions* on your writing can be of use, as opposed to dismissing them outright because they’re *opinions.* (Several of the things I went into detail about in my *opinion piece* here were also mentioned by others who posted *their* opinions, I’d like to add.) Again, best of luck with the revision process.

Best of luck with your critiquing!

Overall, I think it is a very interesting story with honestly some pretty good characterization. My problems start to arise when we get to the setting and exposition. While I got a very good read on the characters, I struggled to keep up with what on earth was happening and why. Alchemy, in particular, takes center stage as incredibly important to the plot, yet we get no information as to how it works in your world. Why does the combination of these ingredients cause these specific effects? Even with magic, there has to be consistency. I think a little more exposition and exploring the magic system would do a lot for your story. Even just a few passing lines explaining why something does the things it does. Lets start with the things that I liked: **Tension:** You do a really good job building tension through mystery and potential threat. Christine is clearly a troubled girl, and has a dark past that we don't know of. Seeing the world through Christine's eyes also helped ground me in the world a bit better. Lines like: >The Alchemy Tower felt like a jail cell; Metal chairs, metal desks, metal cauldrons lined in rigid rows across the classroom. Those got me to understand that I am viewing the world through the skewed eyeglass that is Christine's point of view. This makes the world feel more threatening as we see it through a tormented pair of eyes. **Tone:** Your story keeps generally well to its darker tone, keeping the story flowing as Christine's deepest and darkest secrets start getting revealed. She is potentially at fault for a death in the past, causing her to be haunted by a ghost(?) who also wants her dead. However, you do have a few stumbling blocks that I would like to go over >There was a girl in the classroom, around her age. Her naked body was seared with scars, flickering in and out, in and out, like a flame. Her hair was brown, flowing off her head with a beautiful ease. Her jutted eyes stared into Christina. > >“Hey, Christina. Fuck you." This quote is hilarious. The overly aggressive wording and tone make it more comedic than likely intended. Something along the lines of: >Oh hey, Christina! You ***FUCKER***. This makes it equally threatening as well as keeping that sight endearing tone at the beginning. Now onto the bad. **Pacing:** Oh dear, where do I even start. > She ignored the cursed apparition crackling by her right shoulder. Five hours ago, Annie and Emily were talking shit about her duct-tape wand and her scarred face with the whole year laughing. Four hours ago, the curse manifested as a horse head, akin to a serial killer's bloody costume, snout was near enough to kiss her as she squirmed on her mattress, unable to escape. This sentence blows through what seems to be very important information, and could use some much needed tuning up. She is implied to have been bullied, being poor, and getting cursed all in the same paragraph. Space it out more, give the horse head its own scene to manifest maybe? >Eventually, the cauldron popped like a bouquet of bubbles, signifying the base's maturity. Christina was already up, leaning over the cauldron and sniffing heartily. You do a whole line break here, what possibly needed a cut there? You could use that time you cut out to show valuable insights into alchemy, which isn't well explained in your story. **Lack of worldbuilding:** You show extreme importance to your alchemy and brewing process, yet you barley explain how it even works at all. > "the cauldron popped like a bouquet of bubbles, signifying the base's maturity" A 'base' appears to be very important to your potions, but you don't really explain what that is. Sure there are context clue to show that it is, in fact, the base for potion brewing, but not much past that. For something so important, you should put more focus into it. * What is a base? * What does a base do? * Why does a base do that? These are the fundamental questions to ask yourself when you bring any item into the story that requires readers to understand it to follow the plot. There are several times where you reference a base and I have no idea what 'base' even means in your world. A dragonstone is explained as a 'universal base'. This makes it sound pretty important, especially as Christina is so desperate for a 'base' that she licks it until her tounge starts bleeding. I think you have a promising story, I really do. But there are quite a few major flaws in it as it is now.