Wednesday, December 17, 2008

At last, a hardcore critique!

If you pat a puppy on its head every time it does something "cute" like chew on your shoes, you will wind up with a grown dog that takes pleasure in destroying your closet.

My colleague gave my query letter and first chapter for RTT the once over and it was pretty eye-opening for me. I appreciate his candor because I will never improve my work with simple pats on the head.

More rewrites tonight and I will get my next query package ready even though I have not heard back from the most recent agent.

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Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away