McCarthy - Week2

[shar8]

Week2-McCarthy.pdf (35.27 KB)

[adadio]

So good! This piece flows so well. I love how you take the reader into the kitchen and describe the scene and then move into the conversation. Each sentence flows into the next one and it is easy to read. I didn't have to stop and try and figure out what you were saying at any point. Really well done. And I loved all the little details from your apron, to her hair to her kitchen.


A couple of minor things: haul buckets of mushroom manure from mine to garden and gently brush knots from my stubborn hair.
In this sentence I don't understand the part of "mine to garden". What is mine?

“Actually, honey. It was my grandmother, my Bubka. “Each Christmas, my sisters and I would help her make dozens of cookies. We made them for us and for families at our church.”

I think you have an extra set of quotation marks before the word "Each".

And those were the only two things I could think of that were areas to improve on.

Loved this! Thank you for sharing!

[lynneheins]

Sherry,

What a lovely comforting piece! The details, both sensory and just darn “spot -on” are a treasure. Your lines “ I was welcome and cherished here ” were stirring to me. Truly, a grandmother-granddaughter bond. In the first part you had a wonderful way to grasp the physical description of both Nana and the kitchen, creating images of opposites. To be honest, I do not feel as much an emotional tug in part 2. Could this be because you had been to her home many times in between? Therefore, the dramatic change in her physical health did not shock you as declining and after all, you had seen this kitchen many times since your childhood. Fascinating, as a new bride, you are now the adult, offering her support and sympathetic “I know it’s hard.” messages. I love the dialogue in both parts which , in every way, “pops” your characters . Both parts end so sweetly.

[saburcat]

I like the two viewpoints--that of child and adult in the same room with the same person. You bring the senses in so well, "smoky bacon mingled with smells of bitter coffee," ""Dark pin-curls above rouge-reddened cheeks," "It felt soft and slimy," and the way you describe the placement of things in the kitchen with how your grandmother moves around it is done very well. As a reader, I feel like I'm standing in the kitchen watching this scene unfold.

In the second section, where you say, "My Nana had stuff. She was a collector, a saver. Today, she would likely be described as a hoarder. There was much to organize and toss." - I relate to this, as I am hoarder myself and while I wouldn't say my parents' are hoarders, my dad is definitely a "stuff" person. I am a "stuff" person, and I don't know why or how I became one. For your grandmother, in her 70s, she had many, many years to collect her "stuff." If you wanted to explore what it was like to help her go through this stuff, I think that would make a great separate piece. How hard was it for her to part with some things, or was she willing to get rid of a lot?

In the first section, we can see how you look up to your grandmother, and in the second we can see how roles are somewhat reversed; that your grandmother now has to rely on you to help her. And the ending, sitting down with a cup of coffee to watch the sun set, I think that brings your relationship with her full circle in this piece.

Louise

[linz]

Sharon, This is a glimpse into the way things used to be, the chatting and having a bite to eat before doing anything productive. The childhood version is so descriptive: your busy gramma looming large, wide hips, capable hands, gentle eyes, husky voice, etc. And your regard for her and her talents: cooking, sewing, backing, canning. I'm sure she had a flour sifter! Great old words: apron, icebox, crisco, hand grinder, cut outs, I can see the pink formica table. And the way she made the halupki in the adult version touched me-"as long as I can do it you know I will." The adult version is geared more toward her "simplifying" as she ages. It's all charming and warm.