RAILS Critique

RAILS: First Page Critique
Enoch grumbled through his mustache. His head jerked left and right, looking for a parking spot around Canaan Height’s town hall. Deputy Hollis Wolford stepped into the street, flashing the flat of his hand, slowing us to a stop.

“Head over to the church’s lot. Ain’t no parking here.”

Tobacco juice stained a corner of Hollis’s mouth, his finger barreling toward the Methodist church. I couldn’t help but focus on his lazy eye, the right one. When he looked toward the church, the eye drifted elsewhere.

“Have to wonder how he got into the sheriff’s department,” I said after we parked. I grabbed a fan, the one with Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. I didn’t expect it to help, being July and with hot-heads gathering at the hall.

Enoch rushed me along the sidewalk. “C’mon, woman. We’re missing the Ol’ Time Bloomers Raiders.”

“Pshaw. They haven’t sung any new songs since John Polk passed two years ago.”

He steered me around a cluster of men milling near the door. “Airplane crashes killed many a great song writer. Buddy Holly, Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas,” he said.

A row of chairs showed two vacant seats. Helen Lipscomb sat in front of them. I took a deep breath before surging ahead. “At least John made a respectable exit. The others could learn from him.”

We clambered through a line of legs, offering “Excuse mes” and “Pardon mes.” Enoch settled in his seat as I leaned over and whispered in Helen’s ear.

“Who’s minding the restaurant?”

Perspiration beaded on her forehead. “Laurel. Thought you’d be here. Deloris’s running things. Hopefully, not into the ground.” Years of smoking gave her a raspy voice. She chuckled at her own joke, causing a coughing spasm.


“Fat chance. With this crowd here, your daughter’s probably sitting alone.”

Her nose sniffed the air. “They paint the hall recently?”

Paint cans and drop cloths gathered at the platform’s base, left by careless caretakers. I tilted my head in their direction. “As they say, ‘A good paint job covers a multitude of tales.’”

“If that’s true, more than the hall needs painting.”

My Critique
Overall, the author’s voice is unique and I can picture a western setting here. However, I need more thoughts and identity on the main character. Establish that the protagonist is a female right up front. I'd like to be in her head and learn her attitude toward this meeting. And what’s she wearing? Have her smooth down her dress or skirt or whatever.

Also, the setting isn’t clear. Is this modern day or the past? Western U.S.? You’ve established that it’s July, so that’s good.

Now for some particulars:
In the first paragraph, you have Enoch’s head jerking around and then looking for something. Change sentence to read: He jerked his head…

Then you change viewpoints with the Deputy. Start a new paragraph there.

Slowing us to a stop? Who’s us? The viewpoint character is unclear.
Better to read like this:

Enoch grumbled through his mustache. He jerked his head left and right, looking for a parking spot around Canaan Height’s town hall.

Deputy Hollis Wolford stepped into the street, flashing the flat of his hand, slowing us to a stop.
“Head over to the church’s lot. Ain’t no parking here.” Tobacco juice stained a corner of Hollis’s mouth, his finger barreling toward the Methodist church.

I couldn’t help but focus on his lazy eye, the right one. When he looked toward the church, the eye drifted elsewhere.

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I like the speaker (Relation to Enoch?) grabbing a fan and the references to July and the hot heads in the town hall. Oh, then we find out she’s a woman. Make this clear up front.

You don’t need the “he said” in the paragraph beginning with "He steered." It’s clear who is speaking: “…Cowboy Copas,” he said.


Careless caretaker: Can you change the adjective?

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In general, it’s an interesting start but I think the action skips ahead a little too much with not enough setup regarding the protagonist or the location. Sometimes we’re a bit too eager to get to the action. In this case, I’d rather you slow down and show me more insights into who these people are and where they are.