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Black Author Showcase

Agents of Literary Change

The Critique Castle

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The Critique Castle

A place to enter, if you dare, and leave all your writing behind. We don't want the whole book. Just a chapter, synopsis or a writing example. Let's help each other become better writers.

Members: 19
Created By: Brent Mason
Latest Activity: May 19

Discussion Forum

As Sure As the Wind Blows
3 Replies

This is the beginning of a novel. I'd like to know if you find the main character sympathetic like doyou care about her problems and what happens to her. Or whatever else yawl might want to say. **... Continue

Started by Rhonda Johnson. Last reply by Brent Mason Apr 23.

New Writing Sample - Lost or Found? - A Lesson In Hip Hop (please give feedback!)
3 Replies

Many argue that the genre we’ve all come to know as Hip-hop has lost its way. What do they mean? They mean that hip-hop has moved away from the heartfelt fire that fueled the desire to lay a founda... Continue

Tagged: writing, sample, critique

Started by Tracie E. Christian. Last reply by Orean D. Chatman Apr 18.

Untitled, Unfinished Speculative Fiction Piece - not sure if short story or novella - 1st look - NEED CRITIQUE!
5 Replies

The young woman shuddered as she pushed against the large, splintery door. She had mustered all the strength possible to get here and now it was quickly dissipating. The room she entered was bright... Continue

Tagged: short, novella, story, speculative

Started by Diane. Last reply by Orean D. Chatman Apr 16.

Comment Wall (3 comments)

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3 Comments

Orean D. Chatman Comment by Orean D. Chatman on April 10, 2008 at 7:52pm
Hello all, I'm working on my next book so I'll be posting soon and can't wait to get feedback.

Orean D.
Juanita Betts Comment by Juanita Betts on April 6, 2008 at 1:41pm
Hello to all, I have not been so active in this group, which is about to change. I have been so busy getting things into perspective and still doing the same, but felt the need to share and leave you with blessings and success.

-Juanita Betts
PC Marks Comment by PC Marks on March 26, 2008 at 6:00pm
Feel free to critique Broken Family Ties by PC Marks:
Alicia was awakened in the wee hours of the morning to the phone ringing. Initially, she thought she had dreamed of the ringing. When she reached for the phone all she heard was a dial tone.
Unable to fall asleep, she turned on the television. Henry’s snoring agitating her, she got out of bed. Downstairs next to her daughter’s favorite chair resting on the solid oak table beside it in the living room was her salvation.
She picked up the bible, closed her eyes and opened it. The passage revealed was the 23rd Psalms. Verse four slapped her hard. Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For You are with me: Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood. There were goose bumps forming down her arms. She began to scratch. Alicia closed her eyes. A startling vision dropped her to her knees. Tears rolled down her face. The phone rang. Hesitantly on the third ring she grabbed the receiver.
“I know. What happened?” Grandma Alicia listened carefully to the details being given on the other end. “What!” She interrupted. “I’m sorry, continue,” she said.
Grandma Alicia returned the phone receiver to its cradle. She went into the kitchen. Looking around, she started rearranging. Talking to herself she said, “The spices belong over the stove, not in some rotating shelf beside the sink. I think the lids should be in this area and the pots and pans over there.”
Henry was awakened by the racket. He descends the stairs taking in the view of his daughter’s beautiful home. He marvels at the plush light beige carpet his feet
sinks into as he winds down the stairs. The living room is elegant with its dark tan and mahogany wood Queen Anne furnishings. The formal dining room is decorated with a solid oak eight seat table. There’s a matching China cabinet and hutch. He enters the kitchen to find Alicia rearranging what used to be an immaculate kitchen.
Before speaking he takes in the sight. An island sits in the middle of the floor. The cabinets are oak with stenciled glass displaying expensive dinnerware. The design on the glass is identical to the China cabinet doors. The breakfast nook overlooks the professionally manicured backyard.
“Ya momma didn’t teach you to say good morning?” Alicia says, interrupting Henry’s admiration of his daughter’s home.

“Good morning,” Why are you rearranging this child’s things? I think you enjoy antagonizing Ann. Alicia you can’t do this.” Henry tried reasoning with his wife.
“Put her things back where she had them,” he said.
“She won’t need them,” Alicia continued setting up her daughter’s kitchen. She offered Henry a cup of coffee, finished setting up the kitchen and began preparing a hardy breakfast.
The sun was shining brightly through the beautiful bay windows. Breakfast had the entire house smelling beautifully. A quiet peaceful day was dawning. Grandpa was determined to not let Alicia ruin his.
Carl was awakened to Charles screaming. He rushed to his crib. He changed his diaper, gave him his bottle and held him in his arms. He wouldn’t stop wailing.
Caroline heard the noise. She entered into her old nursery to see what was going on. Upon entering she said
“The walls were pink not blue, the crib white, not this ugly brown. Strawberry Shortcake decorated the wall boarder not the stupid baseball, basket ball, football and hockey stick boarder with the stupid mobile hanging from the crib to match.” She turned to leave the room.
“Help,” Carl said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Go get Grandpa or something,” he demanded.
Caroline grinned. She leisurely strolled down steps she normally took two at a time. Casually entering the kitchen, she told the Grandparents, “That baby is acting up again, think you can do something.”
Alicia continued preparing breakfast ignoring her grandchild. Henry shakes his head side to side as he makes his way up the stairs.
“Okay, Okay. It’s alright. I’m here now.” Charles continued wailing. Grandpa Henry asked, “Has he been changed? Maybe he’s hungry?”

The three, Charles being carried by Grandpa, Carl holding his free hand head back down stairs.
Carl sensed something was wrong. The gnawing feeling in his gut made him uneasy. He held on tight to his Grandpa.
Grandma Alicia stared at the howling baby. She approached Grandpa Henry. “Give him to me.” He bent over to place Charles in her arms. Grandma Alicia and her grandson’s eyes locked. He quieted.
She asked Carl to wipe down Charles’ high chair as she set the dining room table. Carl told her, “We eat breakfast in here,” he said pointing to the built in breakfast nook. She ignored him continuing to place breakfast in the center of the dining room table.
As she finished setting the table, she called for the grandchildren and Henry. Grandma Alicia explained the rules. “When you are called for breakfast, lunch or dinner,

it will be in here. You are to thank God for receiving the blessing of food. You are not to eat or drink before grace is completed. You are not to leave the table without asking to be excused.”
Caroline and Carl’s eyes met. Carl couldn’t shake the eerie feeling. Caroline was unusually quiet. Her lips thinned, an evil glare watched her Grandmother.
Grandma Alicia continued on with the rules. She lowered her head, raised her joined hands inches from her face and closed her eyes. Lord we come to thank you for this nourishment. We ask that it does what you intend. That it keeps us healthy provides us with strength. Thank you for blessing us with these children. Help us guide them in the path of righteousness. As we embark on this journey of raising them, we ask for strength and courage to go forward.


She became quiet. Carl, Caroline and Grandpa Henry all opened there eyes. Grandma Alicia continued.
Help these babies deal with the loss of there parents, Jesus’ name, amen.
The days that followed seemed to take place in slow motion. Swarms of church goers were in attendance. The food seemed to never stop coming. Neighbors stopped by to pay there respect. Everyone hugged, kissed and assured the children they would be okay.
It was surreal for the children to see the coffins with the bodies of the deceased parents lying in repose.
Charles wailed through the whole service. Carl was inconsolable, his wailing at times drowning the sound of his brother. Caroline stared. A far away glazed expression, she never shed a tear.



Grandpa prayed for the peaceful rest of the living children’s soul, the deliverance of the souls of Ann and Kevin, the softening of his cold heartless wife.
Kevin and Ann Grover were buried side by side in the Grover family plot next to Kevin’s parents. The going home celebration took place on the very day they were due to return home.
 
 

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