Novel Review Group Message Forum

Title: Island of My Heart
Chapter:
Review by: barbie22

Overall: I love the imagery of her and her daughter on the beach with waves rolling in and the warm glow of the setting sun. But you can add a lot more description and narrative to bring the beach alive—smells, tastes, hears. Neat ending. I wasn’t expecting that reaction. It brought some intrigue into why she would do that. Good job! Keep writing!
Characters: I didn’t feel a strong connection between mom and child. Mom needs to talk more about how she loves child. How smells—the baby smell, precious feet and hands, what it feels like to hold her, etc.
Plot: The conflict we learn is between her and her past which includes the father of her child who is currently next door. I’m interested in seeing how the father reacts to seeing his child for the first time.
Grammar: There are a few fragments that don’t flow well. Also, there are a lot of sentences with ‘and’. Try rearranging sentence structure to delete as many ‘and’ ‘had’ ‘was’ ‘were’ ‘did’ etc. I’ve added some suggestions in the line by line on how to do that. A good tightening would help the flow.
Setting:Description is pretty good. But I think you want this to be very warm and fuzzy, yes??—to really bring in the reader. You can throw in more description about everything around them. Pretty much what the Overall has listed.





Three years ago, I stood in this exact same spot, at this exact same time. Watching as the sun sank over sank over is sort of weird, how about ‘crossed under’ or ‘crossed over to the horizon to wake the rest of the world’ or something the horizon. My toes squished into the wet sand, as cold salt water rushed over my bare feet, spritzing my face with the stinging mist. you could put one of those clauses at the beginning of sentence to flow better. Wind swept down the shore, wrapping my blond tresses across my face. and tangled my long blonde hair. Blowing it across my face; I pushed it back with my free hand.

The only thing different from than the last time I had been on this seashore was that the little girl standing beside me was no longer in my belly.

I looked down at my dark haired angel; the cherub maybe so ‘angel isn’t repeated angel I had almost given up. Every day I thanked God I didn’t; she was my saving Grace. Thanking God that I hadn't. My amazing saving Grace. She was everything to me, and leaving my family and this island was all worth it. The day I felt her move for the first time convinced me of that. Keeping Having her was the only smart decision I made that year. And she was the only one that gave me the strength to come back here to face my past.

I can’t believe I’m Standing in front of the house I grew up in, and holding the hand of the reason I left; I can't believe I'm here. That I came back. It was finally time to bury my past-- along with my mother.

The sun had almost disappeared beneath the deep blue (with the sun setting, the water should be alive with reds and golds, maybe you can use those colors instead of the cliché deep blue) sea, and the crisp March air was cutting straight to into my bones. I had forgotten how cold Dauphin Island could be got in the winter. Gracie's hand felt frozen in mine; I lifted her into up in my arms and hugged her close. Her wet sandy feet soaked the hips of my old Levi's.

"Mommy, I wanna swim!" Her chattering teeth emphasized her sweet baby lisp. she said through chattering teeth. Her baby lisp was clearly evident.

Giggling and hiding her face in my shoulder every time a wave roared too close, Her large big brown eyes watched followed?? the crashing waves with excitement.,

"Not tonight, baby, sunset is when the sharks come out to eat. ," I said. I told her the same warning that had been whispered in my ear so many times as a child.

Her eyes grew got huge scanning and she watched the ocean as if waiting to catch a glimpse of one of these monsters.

"Come on." I hefted her up higher on my hip and turned to the familiar beach house that was set on high stilts. "Aunt Clara's waiting for us inside. She got you powder donuts.," I was hoping a bribe of her favorite treat would distract her from the water. I said distracting her with her favorite treat.

Letting Gracie let out a shout squeal?? of glee, Gracie and leaned toward the house with arms outstretched as if this would somehow get us there faster. I laughed and started back up the beach. Swiping up the two pairs of sandals that we had left farther up the shore,; I reminded Gracie that she was required to eat her dinner before she was allowed dessert. Not that either one was any better than the other. Domino's pizza was not exactly Mom's homemade seafood gumbo.

I climbed the dune hills, ignoring the staircase that was set there for just such a purpose. Clara and I had always played on the hills, even though Mom had constantly warned against it. She’d always caution us-- The dunes were meant to protection against high tides, we were told that playing on them would eventually flatten the hill. I had yet to figure out how two children could ruin something that was strong enough supposed to protect against crashing waves.

At the top of the dune, I turned around. Swaying Gracie on my hip, I watched the last slice of orange sun sink into the water. Absently, I rubbed the gritty wet sand off my angel’s her feet absently. I felt the weight of her head as it leaned against my shoulder. Slowly I turned awayfrom the beach., and anotherA gust of wind rushed down the beach and bringing with it the low hum of a sweet voice. Ee ntwined with the thrum of an old you may want to use a different adjective because by hearing only the thrum, the age of the guitar cannot be determined guitar.

I stopped in my tracks.make own sentence for dramatic effect , and wWithout breathing, i looked across the hundred feet of land that separated my old our housesfrom the closest neighbor. He was sitting on his mama's front porch steps just like we used to do for hours every summer when we were young. He would sing and play while I hummed along. Him singing and playing, me humming along. Seeing him there again today, I felt like I'd stepped back in time. His deep golden tan never faded, even when the cold came. He was so warm, with chocolate brown eyes, and dark hair }that was streaked with blonde from endless hours in the hot sun. He wore the same tired He had on the same worn and stained pair of jeans I'd threatened to burn so many times. And he had yet to trash the cheap guitar I had bought him for his fifteenth birthday. It was scratched and scribbled on but Hhe'dalways sworenit was the best sounding instrument he'd ever played.

Catching the tune, the wind swept The wind caught the tune he was strumming and brought it to my ears., and it saddened me to realize it was an unfamiliar song. I used to know all his music by heart. Yet, it was still lovely, though swept up by the wind. I took a step wanting to move closer, as if to move closer, but thought better of it. I'd gotten too close to Johnny Sander's three years ago; I vowed not to do it again.

I shifted Gracie on my hip and couldn't help studying her sleeping face. The soft brown curls, strong jaw line, and straight nose never let me forget that . Mmy little girl looked just like her father.

I allowed my gaze to rest on him one more time, ; feeling the past heartache of years ago cut me fresh. Mama hadn't wanted me to waste my life with a boy like him. And his mama hadn't wanted the responsibility of two more mouths to feed added to her plate. Their only solution: abortion. Abortion was the only option; that was their opinion. Even Johnny, the only person I cared for, had in the world, abandoned the fight and settled for adoption. After all, how were two teenagers going to survive on their own?alone? Let alone with a baby?

So, I gave up on them. The day Mama planned on dragging me down to the clinic, I hopped caught a bus for New Orleans and never looked back. At least not until one week ago when my younger sister Clara called. I'd gotten the call from my younger sister, Clara She was (the only person I'd kept in contact with). She gave me the news of Mama's lost battle with cancer, and the date of the funeral.

Yes, I cried. Cried for lost years, cried for a mother that betrayed me, and for a grandmama my baby would never know. Now, I was here with the past knocking on the door , and the past was knocking on the door. Bbegging for entry into a place my heart had forgotten existed.

It was at that moment that Johnny looked up. The music stopped, and I ran inside.