Today Let’s Take a Longer Look at My Beloved by Anthony
To get the full effect of the story, please read it here, first. Have your own experience of the piece before you read my feedback. Your interpretation might be miles away from mine, or we might both have the same questions or praise for the author. For now…
My Beloved
I straightened my utensils. Made sure the distance between them was the same. A fingers width was enough space between each. Any piece of silverware could be used as a weapon. But the knife was too dull. The spoon too blunt. The forks, there were two, would penetrate but not enough to do sufficient damage. Patience. A more practical weapon would come out after the orders were placed.
“Robert, Robert, have you been here before? Robert?”
Murder is a crime in any legal system. A sin in all religions. But do it in the name of God or country and you will be lauded a hero.
“Robert, Robert, have you been here before? Robert?”
My Response: Good, fine serviceable opening, but how can we make it sexier? Please consider that with such an obsession, the “I” is already implied. Therefore, we can hide or delay revealing it. For example, Straighten the utensils. Make sure the distance between them is the same. A fingers width… And would you consider replacing the vague “utensils” with “knife” and focussing on just it? The more you obsess over the single knife, the more dread builds.
More important, please consider an extra beat before dialog, especially unattributed dialog. To see what I mean, watch this clip. At the 1:15 mark, note how the faceless speaker says something. Kathleen Turner replies, “What?” Only then does the faceless man say the important part, “It is hot.” This trick of the three-beat-intro will always serve you.
The trick is to mimic the way sensory input occurs for us in life. First we’re aware of a voice. Then we grasp who’s speaking. Lastly do we comprehend what’s being said. In the clip the man’s shoulder enters the shot. Then he speaks. Only with a third beat do we understand. This demonstrates Turner’s disassociation — which is the same disassociation your narrator would have as he frets over his cutlery.