(Okay. I’d like to preface this critique by saying a few things.

1: I quite enjoyed this story. It’s a one shot, and despite my having no knowledge of this fanbase, it is quite understandable for what it is.

2. It’s hard to critique your work, LLK. More often then not, your lack of mistakes leaves me wondering if I’m nitpicking or my personal style is influencing my comments.

Either way, the first person view you’ve decided to use is really well done, and detailed in a way that leaves little to the imagination. This is always nice for people who may be picking up a story like this for the very first time. The story is in italics, and the my comments are in bold. Also, I apologize if this format is too cluttered to read. I tried to keep it as orderly as possible, I think I did a decent job of that.)


The sky was an array of warm colors. Oranges, pinks, even flecks of bright golden spread thickly through the sky, pouring into all of the cracks of the horizon. The trees and surrounding rooftops were all bathed in the summer morning glow as suburban creatures all started to slowly come to life in a chorus of chirps, tweets, and the occasional bark from a dog. It seemed as though the entire tiny neighborhood was eager to welcome the new day.

Thoughts: This is absolutely gorgeous. You managed to make a common place incident, (Sunrise) attention grabbing. Cliché it may be, it definitely works here.
Critique: I’m nitpicking here, I know. “...surrounding rooftops were all bathed in the summer morning glow…” I think using the word “all” there is unnecessary. It seems like it breaks the flow of that description.

I, however, was not as eager to watch the morning come to life. I rolled over, stark naked, on my front lawn and tried to regain my senses as I hesitantly cracked one eye open and cringed at the offensive brightness coming from all around me. Slowly, my wits came back to me, though, and I scrambled to my feet and into my home.

Thoughts: Once again, very well written. I’m beginning to think that rather then get a critique, you just want praise. You’ll have both.
Critique: This paragraph seems a bit bloated with commas, and initially I wanted to point at first two sentences. Reading them out loud, however, made me realize that they aren’t necessarily wrong. As for the final sentence, the word “...though...” breaks the flow and seems unnecessary. Consider Omitting?

My mother stood from the couch, where she'd obviously been waiting up for a couple of hours, and came forward. She wrapped a blanket around my naked form, and pulled me into a gentle hug. There was no chide, no clicking of her tongue, no disappointed remarks at her daughter's state; instead she simply showered me in the warm and welcoming touch of a Mother's love. I felt myself being pulled towards the couch and succumbed when my mother pulled me down, cradling my torso in her arms. I settled my head on my mother's shoulder, peering through mere slits in my droopy eyes as I watched a strand of my mother's bright copper hair dance in the current of her breath.

Thoughts: Very sweet. If my heart weren’t so riddled with action sequences and awesome bullet holes, I might have cried. *Ahem* Seriously, I’m always a fan of parent/child sequences, specifically when they’re able to communicate without saying a thing. That last sentence is also really pretty. I think it solidifies the...melancholy of the situation, and I like it a lot.
Critique: “...welcoming touch of a Mother's love…” The word mother should not be capitalized in this case. Not unless this is describing something I’m unaware of...in which case, I’ll close my mouth.
“...been waiting up for a couple of hours, and came forward.” The word "up" doesn’t seem necessary here. Saying the sentence out loud, it is my opinion that it flows better without the word.
“...and pulled me into a gentle hug…” Does the word gentle really add to the scene here? Is it truly necessary?
“...There was no chide, no clicking of her tongue, no disappointed remarks at her daughter's state…” Consider revising. Suggestion? “...There was no chiding or clicking of her tongue, no disappointed remarks at her daughter’s state…”

Finally, with her voice quaking just above a whisper, my mother asked the inevitable question; "When were you?"

Thoughts: Ooooh. The first bit of dialogue from the story, and a very powerful line, at that. Suddenly everything that you showed me before this moment makes so much more sense. Well done.
Critique: Well done. That is all.

"May 18, 1994," I whispered back, pulling the blanket tighter around me as I snuggled closer to my mother, selfishly consuming her warmth. The house was chilly and dark with no light on save the flood of sunlight that crept between the cracks of the blinds, and the silent flashing movie across the room on the television--Iron Man from 2008, if I judged it correctly. (I didn't watch much television.)

Thoughts: Well done is par for the course for you, LLK. Nothing here strikes me like it the previous sentence did, but thats not a bad thing. This is appropriately calm. Kind of like an aftershock.
Critique: “...The house was chilly and dark with no light on save the flood of sunlight that crept between the cracks of the blinds, and the silent flashing movie across the room on the television…” This part seems like it wants to run on, but the comma in the middle stops it dead in it’s tracks. Consider omitting comma?

"We were house shopping that day," her mother answered her, her voice still low. She had a habit of remembering what she'd been doing on specific dates; it came with the lifestyle. "Did you see us? Tell me about it."

Thoughts: Same as above. Well written, and appropriately mellow.
Critique: *Cheers* Nothing to correct here. Nice one.

"I was in a drugstore parking lot," I began slowly, telling my mother the story. "It was the backyard of this huge Victorian mansion, with enough space for a family of twelve and their servants at least. It had incredible high ceilings, fireplaces with marble mantles, ornate woodwork - all of which you could see through the bare windows. It wasn't us at all, but there you and dad were, standing in this huge picture window on the second floor. You looked as though you had just fallen in love, but dad looked appalled... like it just wasn't right. You know how he is... was..."

Thoughts: I’d like to say something about the dialogue here, but because I’m not familiar with the book or it’s characterization, I can’t really say anything without sounding like an ignorant swine.
Critique: “...telling my mother the story…” seems a bit redundant, and maybe a little meta. Consider omission?

My mother nodded, dropped a kiss on my forehead, and said, "I remember that house. Your father loved it, deep down, I know he did; but he had his heart set on this place," my mother patted the couch next to her. "It was just a matter of time before we found it.”

Thoughts: I like this paragraph. It gives a little insight on the type of person the mother is. She’s very empathetic, at least, to those she knows and loves I think. It also works very well as a necessary segue into the the main character’s next monologue.
Critique: I could nitpick here, but I’m won't. Good job.

Time.

Something about the thought of time always made both my mother and I shudder. For me, it was the way it played with me, pushing me forwards or backwards at will. Time made me a marionette, forced me to dance in and out of places at its own will. I knew for my mother it was the way it had always confined her, teasing her, forcing her to wait impatiently for her life to unfold. For my father, however, it had been his foil... and in the end it had also been his Kryptonite.

Thoughts: A very powerful paragraph, especially with the visual you’ve provided of time toying with her like a marionette. It is also in this paragraph, that you’ve managed to personify time into a villain that is intent or slowly tearing this family apart. I like this a lot.
Critique: For me, it was the way it played with me, pushing me forwards or backwards at will. Using the phrase "for me", seems a bit repetitive.
Consider,”Personally, it was the way it played with me, pushing me forwards or backwards at will.”

He had pushed and pulled his way through time for so many years before, in the end, it was that same ability - or quirk - that had brought him his demise. It was a responsible both for the horror story of his final moments and the lifelong romance he had with my mother. Theirs was the ultimate love story, the way my mother told it; full of romance, adventure, waiting, and even a little heartbreak. Moreover, though, it was the tale of two lovers who time itself could not even separate.

Thoughts: And so we are introduced to the sour-faced father we met a few paragraphs earlier. From the way he is described, he interfered with time in much the way time is interfering with his daughter. Perhaps Time’s enmity with this family is more deserved then I thought?
Bah. I think I’m having more fun inventing my own evil then I should.
Either way, this chapter adds much mystique to the story as a whole, offering a few more questions, but none of the confusion. Excellent job.
Critique: “It was a responsible both for the horror story of his final moments and the lifelong romance he had with my mother.” The ‘a’ at the beginning of this sentence doesn’t make sense. Omit?
"Theirs was the ultimate love story, the way my mother told it; full of romance, adventure, waiting, and even a little heartbreak." I’d get rid of the comma breaking the “ultimate love story” and “the way my mother told it.” Reading it out loud, I think it breaks the flow.
“Moreover, though, it was the tale…” The same goes for the comma after “moreover.”

"I'm really starting to adjust to the idea that he's gone," my mother whispered. Pain, tears, even a sob were hidden in a shallow depth within her words. "And I don't like it."

Thoughts: It really sucks to see this woman who seems so nice so hurt. Her very last sentence here conveys that very well and very simply. Nicely done.
Critique: Nothing to critique here. Nice job.

"Momma you have to wait," I wrapped a hand around my mother's body, sliding it up and down her arm gently. Finally, I scooted it upwards and played it in her hair. "He'll come back to you."

Thoughts: I want to say there should be a comma after the word ‘momma’, but I can also imagine her saying it to her very hastily, trying to cut off her mother’s descent into sadness. Well done.
Critique: Only nit picks. Moving on.

"Did he tell you?" my mother asked, desperation piqued in her voice. I secretly feared that after so many years of being so deeply involved with Chrono-Impairment my mother was losing touch with the now.

Thoughts: Okay...admittedly, I don’t know what the chrono-impairment part means, but I have the inkling that it may be something similar to Alzheimer's. Anyway, allow me to reiterate how much it sucks to see the mother go through this.
Critique: “...being so deeply involved…” The word “so” seems unnecessary in this case. The situation is well emphasized by the word “deeply” I think.

It often frightened me how fiercely and tightly she clung to the past. I gave her the only answer I knew how, "he promised."
We were silent while we both thought about him and everything that it had meant to be him, to be involved with him, to be his daughter. I bit down on my lower lip and tried to force myself not to worry so much. I, unlike my mother, unlike my father even, could chose when and where I went, though I would never be able to choose when I went, and would always have another chance to see my father - if I wanted it. My mother would never be so fortunate. She had made her lifetime out of waiting and it seemed she would spend every one of her remaining days waiting for him.

Thoughts: Oh, I get it now. So she can choose when she goes, but not where, and...vice verse for her parents? I am unsure, but either way, I’m glad I got a description of her abilities. It also makes a lot of sense now, why her mother runs the risk of losing her mind to time.
I like the emotion, as well as her concern for her mother.
Critique: Only nit-picks here.

I slowly pulled away from my mother, still chewing on my lip as I rose. I cursed time as I wandered up the stairs towards my bedroom. Time had teased me with sporadic visits with my father, who sometimes didn't even know who I was. It had made me its plaything; had made my mother a shell of the woman she once was, always looking towards the past. My father, on the occasions I did get to talk with him, had always told tales of me mother being bright, young, and always looking forward to the future. I wanted that back for her.

Thoughts: Okay, so the personification of time as a villain panned out. Heh. Anyway, once again we’re back to a melancholic tone. This paragraph makes me feel sympathy for the family as a whole, and thats kind of hard to do. Well done, here.
Critique: “...had always told tales of me mother…” Because she didn’t seem to have this accent at first, I think the word “my” needs to replace “me” in that statement.

I fell onto my bed gracelessly, and had a flickering thankfulness to time for summer vacation. I liked not having to worry about school after an excursion like that. As I slowly started to fall into slumber, I mused to myself about time and my wealth of feeling towards it. I worshiped it, in a way very similar to the Catholic way my mother worshiped God. I blamed it for all of the good in my life and equally, perhaps even more-so, for all of the bad. Time had essentially become the deity that ruled my every breath of existence.

Thoughts: I like this ending. I like that you compared time to a god, and then managed to tie it together with the general methodology in believing in a god. (Can’t blame God for bad without blaming for good, right?) All in all, this seems to be a very appropriate ending. It isn’t overly sad or dramatic, just...resigned. Aren’t we all?
A lot of care went into this paragraph, and it shows. Well done.
Critique: Got nothing here.

Overall thoughts: Very well done, however, I thought your story would have benefited from a bit of an injection from Michael Bay. Picture this.

The protagonist is pushed forward in time, only to meet Iron Man and have an epic TIME FIGHT in the summer of 2999. This would involve lasers, and due to the involvement of Michael Bay editing, at least eight TIME EXPLOSIONS.

And now I’m done.

Oh yeah, the TQ.

TQ: No. No I haven't. Or rather, I honestly can't think of a story or premise that I was displeased with. Eh...I'll shut up now.

Wow! Thanks for the incredible critique. I'm honored that you went to so much trouble.

This story was originally written in 3rd person. I only just edited it--that's why I featured it. To see how poorly it translated. Quite obviously I have some more editing to do.

As for Chrono-Impairment and Time and the DeTamble family... well it's not a simple matter to explain.

Henry DeTamble (the father) is Chrono-Impaired. IE in the book it's something akin to Epilepsy. His "seizures" send him either forward or backward (usually back) in time. Though, he can not choose when he goes nor his destination. He's simply subject to travelling whenever it happens. Very dangerous.

Claire (Abshire) DeTamble (the mother) is normal like you or I. She does not time travel.

Alba DeTamble (our narrator) is Chrono-Impaired like her father. The only difference is that she can choose her destination, for the most part. Though Alba can't prevent herself from travelling she *can* influence it.

Time Travel (Our villian/diety/?) is dangerous! You can't change what's happening, no matter how many times you see it. For instance Henry watches his mother's death a hundred times because he's constantly time travelling back to that day. Also, you can't take anything with you when you travel. SO that means you travel naked. For someone whose existence is primarily in Chicago--no good. Very cold and public. Also, time travel usually happens at times of extreme stress etc.

Clare and Henry are the romantic figures of the book. A grown up Henry (who is already married to Clare in his life) time travels back to different points in Clare's childhood frequently. The two meet for the first time in Clare's life when she is six and he is forty-two. They meet for the first time in Henry's life when he is twenty-eight and she is twenty. Make sense? Clare is chronolically normal. Henry is chronologically impaired. His life is punctuated with visits to the past and future--visits he can't control.

I've probably just confused you more than helped. But, it's an incredible book. I may not be able to explain it as well as I should be able to but it's incredible! Very very much worth writing FanFiction about.

Boy this is an easy TQ question for me. The answer: No.

Story: Man this was a tough one. I had never even heard of this story, so I had to look it up (thank god for wikipedia). Fortunantly you did provide enough cursory information so that I would have been able to figure out enough without it.

One thing I really liked about this was how grand and epic you made a lot of things sound. It's like I was reading an advertisement for the book (or upcoming movie). Take this for example:

He had pushed and pulled his way through time for so many years before, in the end, it was that same ability - or quirk - that had brought him his demise. It was a responsible both for the horror story of his final moments and the lifelong romance he had with my mother. Theirs was the ultimate love story, the way my mother told it; full of romance, adventure, waiting, and even a little heartbreak. Moreover, though, it was the tale of two lovers who time itself could not even separate.

Wow talk about epic! Is it just me or does that sound like something you would read on the back of the book cover, or hear from narrator in a film trailer?

But I wouldn't say that's a bad thing. On the contrary it made me somewhat interested in checking out the actual book. I'm not sure if that was your intention, but that was the result.

Other statements were not quite as grand or advertising, but they still got the point across. This one stood out:

Something about the thought of time always made both my mother and I shudder. For me, it was the way it played with me, pushing me forwards or backwards at will. Time made me a marionette, forced me to dance in and out of places at its own will. I knew for my mother it was the way it had always confined her, teasing her, forcing her to wait impatiently for her life to unfold. For my father, however, it had been his foil... and in the end it had also been his Kryptonite.

Does this character normally express her thoughts in form that sounds like poetry? I don't know, but I found it very entertaining to read.

The one thing I found a bit odd was this one:



I, unlike my mother, unlike my father even, could chose when and where I went, though I would never be able to choose when I went.......



Um what? You can choose when you go, but not when you go? That one had me stumped for a bit. I had to read it a few times before I figured it out. That's one statement I probably never would have understood if I hadn't looked the book up. I think you could have written it in a way that was a bit less confusing.

Still I gotta say it was a good story overall. One thing I look for in stories, especially ones involving other time periods, is descriptions that make me feel like I'm really there (that's why I love cold case so much), and you certainly had that nailed down perfect. It kept me hooked all the way through.

Hehe, I think these two guys (^) have done a pretty thorough job on this piece (makes them sound like Mafia assassins, or something, doesn't it?), but I'll do my best.

TQ: Have you done a major edit and worried about the story's transition from its old form to its new? How confident were you in the final result?

Nope. Hehe, that was easy. I usually rant forever with TQ's. You are all saved.


Critique:

First of all, I haven't read the book, and I wasn't around for this challenge. Just for the record. I highly doubt that my presence for the challenge will change anything, but hey. Covering all bases and all that jazz.

I absolutely adore the first few lines of this. So descriptive.



The end of this line, "pouring into all of the cracks of the horizon", is fantastic. I get such a good image from that (despite the fact that it's an almost literal "pouring"). But the latter has more to do with my silly mind than your writing. Hehe.

Wait a minute, I lied. I said that I adored the first few lines, but then I read the rest and I adored it just as much. This piece is fantastically written. Every line is like, boom. The descriptions and the emotions all work together really, really well.

I could literally see the scenes you described, specifically the one on the couch. The litte details you put in are what makes it work. Like the detail about the mother's hair.



The lighting as well, the colours of the morning creepnig through cracks in the blinds.

You also managed to work in 'Iron Man' pretty well, I have to say. I think that a lot of authors would have failed trying to put that into a story like this one. But you've done it.

I love that it's all sort of calm, too. It's hard to be anything but calm at this time of morning (sunrise-ish time), I think, and while it's very emotive, it's not rushed. It's reflective, I suppose, would be the word you'd use.

I usually listen to music while I'm at the computer. Almost without fail, I've got music going, but I actually had to turn it off for thise piece. I just loved it. The emotion (and I know I'm repeating myself, but humour me, here) and the description and the feeling of the scene wanted absolute silence. Which is hard to find at my house, I tell you. But I half way through with music, turned it off, then read it two more times. Hehe.

Fantastic story, LLK, and it's making me even more determined to get around to reading the book.

Critique:

I still really love this story. And I totally agree with Chainclaw- epic!

I confess that I still have yet to read this book, but having read this story for the... third time (I think), I notice that I pick up on more of the details, and the pictures painted with your words become all the more clearer.

I love the subtle ways you include the challenge pieces. It's a lot better when they don't smack you in the face, and if I hadn't known that it was a challenge piece, I wouldn't be able to tell. It's so well done.

I think you've got an amazing way with words, and I love reading your stories so much. I love this one immensely.

TQ:

I have, actually. Not because I thought the premise was bad- I actually liked the premise. But because the writing was just that bad. I rewrote it about 2 years after I initially penned it- 2 years and countless stories later. I was insanely more confident in the rewrite, but I bet that if I still had it now, I'd dislike it.

TQ- I’ve never edited any of my stories :O maybe I should start with some of older ones though. They are shocking.

Critique- Firstly, I’ve never read the book (fortunately my sister has and was able to help me understand the story a bit better). That being said, not knowing the fandom did not detract anything at all from this piece. It was beautifully written.

The first part is so descriptive and even from the very first line I was addicted and just had to read to the end –“Oranges, pinks, even flecks of bright golden spread thickly through the sky, pouring into all of the cracks of the horizon.” <3

“I settled my head on my mother's shoulder, peering through mere slits in my droopy eyes as I watched a strand of my mother's bright copper hair dance in the current of her breath”- I love this line. You always manage to be so descriptive and have an amazing attention to detail but you don’t overdo it. Just the right balance.

I think this- “Time made me a marionette, forced me to dance in and out of places at its own will” is my favourite line in the whole fic. It’s so powerful and thought provoking. *sighs* I wish I could write this way.

The way Alba falters in this line-“ You know how he is... was..." is very realistic in the sense that sometimes we do forget when we’re talking about a loved one we’ve lost. Very true to life- love it.

The description of her father really brought to life his character and I could actually picture him in my head and the angst is was causing her mother that he was gone. There’s another thing, it was angsty without being too emo-y. I’ve been reading a lot of fics recently which have made me more than depressed, this fic just made me empathise with the characters and this is a really good thing.

The only thing that I found was wrong with it, is that I wanted to read on and read more but there wasn't any more I’ve decided to borrow the book from my sister and read it, you’ve really piqued my interest with this fic.

Sorry this was short. I thought I’d sneak my way back in with a critique

TQ: Have you done a major edit and worried about the story's transition from its old form to its new? How confident were you in the final result?

Oh God, yes. D: I didn't like it, so now it's rotting on FF.net. Oh well...

===


That kinda sounds awkward. In this sentence, I think it'd be better if the 'though' was taken out.


I love this paragraph. Love love love love LOVE. (maybe even lust, I don't know)


No offense, but what the heck? This sentence made me go WAITWHUT? and even after I reread it, I couldn't understand what it was. So you're saying she wrapped her hand around her mom's body, then slid it up and down her arm gently? You might want to rewrite that in a way that helps idiots like me understand what you're trying to say.

WOOP WOOP. I like this fic. (: Good job.

*Squishes Sarai* Yay! Welcome back, even if it is only for a moment.

Meanwhile, you should read it! I want another person to at least know what I'm talking about. It's super good. And the movie is coming out in like 2 months!


To everyone else: Thank you!

LLK: I'm back for good,, for now hehe and also I've just started reading it. Man it's awesome, it's a 'don't wnat to put it down' book

Yes, it is.

Well to be perfectly honest I sturggled through the first couple of chapters my first time. But then I kinda understood why it was such a great book and I've been able to read it in single sittings every time since.

Let me know what you think when you're finished. My other posse of internet dwellers all loved it before I'd even read it so I'd like to know what a new person thinks of it.