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Title: Wayfaring Stranger

Chapter Reviewed: Chapter 1

User Name: upstartcrow

Remember I am not a professional reviewer. These are just my personal impressions and thoughts. My goal is to be encouraging and give you something that will actually help your writing.

Plot:

Two soldiers returning home from the war waiting to get off of the boat.

Characters:

Two brother Addison and Asa. Clear distinct personalities. As who is a great deal more laid back about things and his brother very single minded about going to see the girl he left at home.

Grammar:

Didn't note any real grammar issues. I will put anything in the line by line that I note as I comb through this again.

style/voice:

Third person POV.

Setting:

Good description here. Could have added some smells. Might have added something.

Overall:

This is a well written first chapter but I don't know that it does enough to make the reader buy into Addison as the protagonist. I don't get a strong sense of where this is going. I think you need to do something to strengthen the hook. At least put a little foreshadowing in it. I think you need to start with a more active voice as well. Otherwise I sense this as the beginning of something worth reading.

Line by line

Chapter 1



The shrill sound of a whistle sliced (through) the moist August morning air in two. The sound of a steamboat coming to dock was nothing unusual, perhaps even expected by the inhabitants of the Mississippi river town of Keokuk, Iowa. Still, when sounded in the early morning, the impact of the whistle could jolt even the soundest of sleeper from his or her respite.

This morning's whistle—a distinct one short, two long and two shorts—informed the waking town at the bottom of the Des Moines rapids, of the Abigail Foster's arrival. Some in the village knew of her cargo and made for the docks. Most just went about their business. The Abigail was not the first boat carrying soldiers home from the war, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The stuff I marked in blue here to me is just too passive to start a story. I would rewrite these first two paragraphs. Don't let your reader have a chance to dismiss the book as no big deal in the first couple of sentences or paragraphs.

When the war first ended, citizens massed at the landing to cheer on the brave boys. Sometimes a brass brand played as the men marched into town. As the months passed, the novelty wore off until only friends or relatives greeted the boats, if they knew a loved one was coming. Most times, though, they didn't. I would take the time here to say something about how long it took for news to spread at this time. I would also throw in a bit foreshadowing Addison's coming disappointment in the second chapter. Nothing heavy handed but something to buy into his character.

The Abigail's crew took their time docking her in the French style with the stern pointed up stream. On the landside of the boat, men in blue uniforms lined the rails, anxious to disembark, and the boat took a noticeable lean. Some would stay in Keokuk, some would disperse throughout Lee County, and for others, Keokuk served as a way station. Despite their various destinations, the Abigail carried the men closer to home.

On the deck directly below the pilothouse, a solidersoldier leaned against a stanchion. His blue eyes took in the scene around; men rushed for the lower deck, the roustabouts on the wharf below scurried to secure the boat. To the man's right, a colored deckhand cursed under his breath something about the soldiers.

When a private rushed passed, the soldier reached out and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him to a halt. Nodding toward the gangplank, he explained, "Addison, look. There'll be a rush for that gangway. Just wait."

"Did ya have to snap my neck off, Asa?" The private scowled.

Asa shrugged. "Trying to help is all. Crowding in down there isn't gonna get you off this boat any faster."

Addison shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I'm not waiting. I'm gonna get myself up to Davis' farm, see Jeannie. Those other men can just get out of my way."

"What are you gonna do, push them out of your way? I can just see it... Addison Thatcher trampled his brothers in arms. They survived the war, but they stood between him and his girl." Asa scoffed.

"Are you saying you don't want off this boat, get to Rachel and your farm?"

"Well, yes, but there's no sense in go down there to scramble and claw my way down the plank and up the bluff. I'll get home just the same, maybe before some of them boys, and I'm gonna stop at Bailey’s tavern on the way." Asa leaned on the rail and peered down below.

"Tavern, huh?" Addison joined him. "I suppose you're gettin' in one last good drink before Rachel gets her claws on ya."

"Something like."

Addison stood and stretched his arms above his head. He was a half a head shorter than his brother, but their eyes were the same—blue with flecks of green. All the Thatcher children inherited their eye color from their father. "Suit yourself. I'm leaving."

Asa chuckled. "Alright Addi, but try not to marry that girl tonight. Amos would want to be there to witness you shackled to a woman."

"Amos isn't home?"

"Naw, his band of coloreds didn't get mustered out just yet. Should be soon."

"It's just as well." Addison grinned. "Amos would just try to pull rank on me anyway." He turned and headed away from his brother. "I'll see you on Sunday. I hear tell Peter's turned into quite a fine preacher."

"Count on it." Asa gave him a halfhearted wave.

Asa watched Addison mingle in among the other men, rush down the gangway, and start up the bluff. Now it was time for Asa to leave the steamer. While Addison headed to the farm on Mount Clara, Asa intended to make his way to Bailey’s.

What is here is good. I just think we need a little more in this chapter to feel a reason to want to go along with Addison. Not sure what all to add but I feel like the reader is given a choice whether to dig deeper or not. At the end of this chapter the reader needs to want to turn the page and no maybes about it. Trying to preach to myself too. Nice work though. Your writing impresses me every time I get into something you wrote.







Keep on writing!

Pico

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