What's relevant is that he's pulled something gripping, marvelous, and wonderous out of the bag, that is colourful and strange and endearing and horrific all at once. What's mine? A sustained emotion that swaps its charge in the final paragraphs.
So, where do I go from here?
I need to invest some time in the poetics of writing. I need to look at the following:
- Others: Irony, Euphemisms, Repetition, Symbolism
What am I conscious of in my own writing? Metaphor and Simile I have licked, I think. I just need to be stronger in my delivery. The repetition and the symbolism also! In my short I have:
- The daughter tracing her finger across the vase as she waits for her father, and the lady on the bed tracing her finger in a circle upon the quilt
- The daughter 'teasing' the teatlike strawberries and the engorged nipples of the lady on the bed.
- The strawberries and the colour of the hotel room. The strawberries and flesh. Finally the flavouring becoming sour.
- The lavender scent as possession - wreathing, then masking, then invading; sickly.
- The swans, of course.