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Well, consider my trubes removed...
One teeny tiny nitpick (nits are, in fact, louse eggs—did you ever wonder?)—the ending. Having rolled forth at a suitably leisurely pace for 19 pages, we suddenly end in a flurry of second-hand infodump and a rather unconvincing return to the (admittedly fucked-up) status quo.
Of course this isn't a classically structured story—the characters are grotesques, no one is going to change over the course of these events, in fact it's not an Event Story at all, nor even a Character Story, but a Milieu Story (although seen entirely from within, not from the mediating standpoint of an Outsider character)—but the storyteller part of me still balks at the flouting of one of our deepest-held tenets: Do not take the climax of your story away from your protagonist(s).
Different means to different ends, I know. But the pacing was so perfect in those first 19 pages thagt I was left with the impression that the coda came about either with a cry of (a) "Fuck! I've written myself into a corner! How am I gonna resolve this one!" or (b) "Fuck! I meant to wrap this up in 20 pages, and here I am at page eighteen already! Truncate, man, truncate!"
Neither of which is really the impression that you want to give, y'know?
Please note that any misgivings about the denouement are solely prompted by how fucking good the rest of it is.
Yours trubeless,
J. Fear |
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