The Women Who Fly Kites

Enchanting story. Amy has a way with words and I hope she persues her forte and applies her talents in prose and storytelling. I know it's fantasy but I wish I could express myself as well as she does. I wish this book to hit the best seller list!!! Go AMY!

TampaBayGal

I love the way you use a lot of description in your work. It's needed in the way you tell your story. Right from the start you make a simple thing such as a photograph much more complex and intricate than first glance.

this is an interesting story. There seems to be a sense of magic to it and that adds touch to it. Glad to have read it and rated it high! Cheers!

Penny
The Glass Serpent

The Women Who Fly Kites is something I’ve not seen in a while. The book offers a fantasy-like mystery centered around the main character. If the main character were a teenage girl full of angst, then The Women Who Fly Kites could probably fit into the young adult category. However, the main character is June, a middle-aged teacher, and her thoughts and reactions are those of an adult.

I think author Amy Craig Beasley is onto something here. Look at how many adults read the YA genre, how many probably secretly consider it their favorite type of book. What we have in The Women Who Fly Kites is that same type of heavily-descriptive fantasy formula, in a novel designed for adults to enjoy. The themes of immortality and dark family histories are all well done. The closest book that I can compare it to would be Stephen King’s The Colorado Kid.

The Women Who Fly Kites is told well and the pacing will keep readers guessing and interested in how the story unfolds. Dialog is particularly strong. My only recommendation would be to perhaps add more dialog into the story to help advance the plot and perhaps shift some of the storytelling away from the narrator voice. That would help keep readers more within the beautiful illusion created by the tale.

This book hits a sweet spot somewhere between YA fantasy and hardcore sci-fi. I think it could be enjoyed by a mainstream audience who considers themselves too old for YA and too sophisticated for the fantasy isles in most book stores. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable read in any case, and should find an audience.

John Breeden II
Old Number Seven

That 'Mistaken for Persephone' line in the pitch caught my attention and this is an intriguing, ambitious tale written in an endearing, poetic style. The revelation around chapter 10 is a great piece of plotting and there are a number of colourful characters throughout. I have enjoyed reading this tale (I'm halfway through) as much as any other I have read on the site recently. The author is able to instill emotional nuance into her characters and her portrayal of the natural world around the main characters with that original linkage to the mythology of our ancestors is the unique selling point of this. Early on I thought the plot/characters were almost swallowed up by the descriptive prose and there could be a rebalancing required here but by around ch5 this is no longer a problem. I wondered if Aunties back story could somehow be reworked into this tale, at least in part, in real time. That revelation is perhaps a bit hard to swallow as it stands. An alternative would be for June, by her experiences/adventures in the tale and by her intuition work this out for herself. Having Auntie simply tell June (and the reader) this wonderful hidden secret, it feels as if we and even June don't quite deserve to know it just yet. Anyway, lots of stars from me and I'll be reading on.

Amy, A cool book. I was really hooked to this as you can certainly tell a story. Great narrative with a nice flow. You know how to describe really well in such a way that the reader engages with you right from an early stage. I think this is a little gem and once you get the support this deserves then this is going to do you proud. So so well done and good luck.
Sean Connolly. British Army on the Rampage. (B.A.O.R) Please consider me for a read or watch list wont you?? Many thanks Sean

Amy,

I really like this. You write in a very sophisticated and mature way. The opening with the photograph successfully draws the reader in and then the landslide sets the action off in earnest.

I suppose my only concern would be what market this would be pitched at? It's a nice story and I don't doubt that people would read it but I wonder how a publisher might pitch it? The title is fab (that's what drew me in) but it might be worth researching books that you perceive as similar and see how they have approached this.

Cheers
Bruce :)

I have read two chapters so far I have thoroughly enjoyed it. Beauitifully written its smooth and engaging.
at the end of chapter three you write" a cloud white and billowing is rising in the east and is growing dark" this smoothly leads on to chapter 4.
On my watchlist highly starred.

Hi Amy,

I quite like your story. There certainly is constant adventure in it.

I have a couple of thoughts I'd like to share.

The language is a bit modern in its disregard for Chicago-style writing rules. You might want to give it a one-over thinking of that publisher you probably hope to find one day.

Somebody without your keen knowledge of Greek mythology could get a bit lost here and there. Myself, I often managed to forget between chapters who was the father of whom as well as who was divine and who wasn't. I'd like to suggest that you slip in reminders of such things where you make references to kinships that were mentioned several pages back.

The rising threat of war and destruction in the latter chapters remains a bit diffuse. It sounds bad, but how bad is bad? I'm left with a dreamlike impression--perhaps the same one as June is in--that bothers me a little. Why is she so confused at a time when she needs a clear head more than anything? But maybe that's precisely what you're after.

Great for readers who can be bothered with the framework of ancient mythology. But probably too much for those who are looking for straightforward action.

Best,

GG

Hi
I love your narration part. And the plot is nice. New one.
All the best.
S.Vinay Kumar,
The ark and the curse of the Oracle.

Amy, wonderful prose. absolutely enticing story. starred and shelved. very best wishes, andy

PS:
you've likely heard this before but my only thought re an edit is voice. there are a few places in the text where the narrator slips into a 1st person, more distant voice, such as "we of course know...." to me, that POV breaks the wonderful spell you've created, but that's just one reader. ;) you know your style.

Hi Amy, This is an unusual story and has some beautifully colourful and poetic writing in it. I am not generally a fan of fantasy which may explain a feeling of dissatisfaction I felt here and there, so please bear this in mind. Fantasy, to work, has to be plausible within its own sphere, and I felt you were dropping in new twists and facets without actually thinking through how they would influence the plot. That may come later, of course, but it is not too good to leave your reader feeling confused about why things occur the way they do. Events should grow naturally out of the way characters react either with each other or with the ambient environment. If something appears illogical - it probably is and the reader will react badly to that.

The reader has to believe in what you offer if he is to continue reading, and he has to trust the major characters as real, consistant personalities, for they will carry the plot and control its progression. Above all he must be drawn into the hero(ine), even become the hero(ine) who must throb with life and veracity. I feel June is not quite there yet. Although she experiences all sorts of strange things, there is a feeling that here is an otherwise sensible woman - with a shadowy husband who is mentioned but about whom we know precisely nothing - behaving out of character for no justifiable reason; that her behaviour is almost wilfully unwise or irrational, which irritates.

June narrates the story in the third person, which gives a strong structure and can provide tight emotional tension. It also means you have to ensure that everything must come through her to the reader, which hgas its limits; everything she knows will be known also to the reader - and no more. Here and there, especially in chapter 8, I noticed that you pop out of her and describe her from another point of view, which jars. I also wondered why chapter 3 was told in the present tense. Was that the very first piece from which the story grew, perhaps? Undoubtedly, it contains lovely poetic descriptive writing, but does that sit well with moving the story along? You could make a case for lulling the reader before hitting him with the first conflict in the story but... Sometimes as writers we have to break our own hearts and sacrifice what is surplus, however special to us.

Who is your target reader? Apart from the 1980 scene, the characters are adult, but there is a sense of children's fairy tale here, (up to ch 8) and Mrs Fox and Mr Crane nod towards quite young children at that. Would adults buy it? Have you thought of writing for children? I think you could do so very well. Obviously there are adult elements way beyond them in this book, but I wonder if it might attract a publisher more easily if redrafted for a younger audience? Remember that the department which will decide on whether a ms is accepted, like it or not, is the finance department, and they are looking for sure fire sales in high numbers.

I do not intend these remarks to be deflating but hope they may be constructive. You can and do write very well indeed and I would love to see you succeed, but I am not sure if this is the book to get you there. - But then, I am not a fantasy fan! I could be quite wrong. Best wishes, anyway. And well deserved stars.

Margaret Woodward : Kilbaddy

Hello Amy,

I was looking forward to reading this because, as I believe I've told you before, I like both women and kites. I'm not sure which I like best...I suppose women, because they don't get stuck in trees as often as kites. But they don't like going out on windy days much, either.

I read seven chapters and found only a fleeting reference to kites and merely two women. But it wasn't a dealbreaker for me, I didn't feel duped.

The word that comes to mind when I think of this book is "nice", and I don't mean that at all in a damned by faint praise way. It's nice to be nice!

I liked your writing style very much, knowing that you were a poet I expected to be bogged down in florid prose - but instead I was pleased to find the text reasuringly simple. I was reminded of another book I read by a poet, "Fugitive Pieces". I can't remember the author's name, and there are no thematic similarities (hers was about the Holocaust) but on the strength of the two pieces, I would say that poets make good writers. Maybe its something to do with the fact that poetry's very form encourages economy....

Lots of colours in this book, eh? I also liked that, and again I liked the fact that you didn't over embellish. Things were just "red" or "green" or whatever, not "duck-egg teal" like you'd just swallowed a paint colour chart. At times I found the vivid, naturalistic tableux you created captivating, feeling like a drunk mesmerized by the Christmas tree lights.

Some of the dialogue seemed a bit starchy and I wasn't so wrapped up in the plot, but it didn't seem to matter. I was happy to let it unfurl leisurely, no hurry. Your book put me in a transcendental state of mind. As I was reading it the voice in my head was that of Jason Robards. I've no idea why, because I haven't thought of Jason Robard for years but, somehow, it seemed to fit.

Nice!

Highly starred, good luck with it.

Dave

Very, very nicely written. Never mind the first few lines of a book reeling you in, the first lines of each paragraph seems to have the same effect!

The Nomad

THE ISLAND EXPERIMENT

Hello Amy:

As I was reading through the first four chapters of The Women Who Fly Kites, it immediately became obvious to me that the signature of your writing is your amazing ability to communicate vivid pictures through your words, which demand the attention of all the senses.

It is difficult to read passively without experiencing a range of physical sensations. I suspect that you do not struggle to find the right words, but that the imagery quite easily flows out of your natural gifting.

Blessings to your lift and to a brilliant, blooming writing career.

James

There's a real charm to this novel that is unique and almost otherworldly. The voice, though substantially omniscient comes across as someone not quite grounded in the real world but someone that has a vivid imagination and a wonderful eye for the beauty around. It has strong overtones of Victorian sensibility in some of the formally structured language and the manner in which it's expressed. It is a story that unwinds, sometimes twirling fast and other times a slower circling. The lyrical style and unique voice fit perfectly with the unique premise that contains overtones of magical realism. June really doesn't seem to belong in this world if her internal thoughts are anything to go by. Despite the fact that she's a science teacher the reader can only picture a science that allows her to stare in fascination at the workings of a bee on a flower while trying to picture the bee's homelife. She is a totally charming woman.

In the three chapters I read I could only see a few things that you might consider that would only add a bit more polish. The overall aspect is the idea of the lack of contractions that only occur in sections, to be followed by a course of many contractions. You might consider just putting contractions in the dialogue of the present day to offset the other world and the omniscient narrative sections. The only other thought is that in the first chapter you might look at the section when young June and her brother talk. In subsequent sections the rhythm of the dialogue and the tagging is fine, but here it doesn't seem to be up to the standard of the rest. In all of that section you have dialogue, tag (said, exclaimed, cried) attached to action. This approach diminishes the impact of the dialogue and the action. Mostly you want to just use the "said" tag rather than "exclaimed," "gasped," etc. because it just detracts from the important dialogue and the reader usually has other clues, like an exclamation point for the gasped. So you could consider switching the action to the first part and making it a sentence on its own and then follow it with the dialogue. For example" She remained unmoving. "Nothing," she said. Or : He drew closer, "Come on, tell meee! But the dialogue rings out well and suits your narrative in the subsequent chapters. Lovely stuff. I'll look again and read more. Kristin

A tremendous effort, Amy. I'll try to find a Miltonic epic simile beginning: "as when . . ."
e.g. "as when the swift Orlando saith . . ."
Top rated, WL and early Shelving.
David Grant
"Pompey Chimes"

Enjoyed Chapter 2. I will return to read the rest.

I had no problem picturing any of the scene you portray in the first chapter. Your descriptions are clear and lush. I was drawn into the story immediately.

I think you mean "consciousness" - not "conciseness" (right before the poem that the girl recites in the first chapter)


You mention her name, June, only after the poem and it seems strange to me why you would not want to mention it earlier...
I'm not really sure why she needs to be anonymous in the first sentence or in any part of the beginning of the story here.

Also, when she cuts herself, I am unsure about the word "sever" - perhaps you mean "sliver"? "sever" to me connotes the cutting off of an entire limb or piece of flesh...

Also with Bennie, you say "whinned" - do you mean "whined"?

I also think that while your powers of description and storytelling are quite good, your writing is a bit wordy and could be tightened up quite a bit to make your words more concise and impactful.

As a matter of personal preference I don't love reading books here on Authonomy that start with at Table of Contents. Generally my time to read is limited and I want to get right into the story...but that's just my two cents.

You have a really keen eye for description as is evident in your observations of the pecan tree in the beginning of chapter 2. I really enjoyed that.

I think it's "get-away" not "get-a-way", also "loses herself" not "looses herself" - which connotes being "loose"

I actually felt that chapter 2 was written much tighter and better. I really enjoyed it and it made me want to read more.

I was just a bit confused here at the beginning of chapter 3 - you say 50 miles, but then you say that there are 145 miles left to go. Perhaps you don't need both...or maybe use minutes for one and miles for the other.

But these are all just nit-picky things. The fact is that after this chapter I had to read on yet again!

It seems a bit odd to me that Bennie is not more concerned about how June looks at the end of this chapter. I picture her bloody and muddy with torn clothes etc.

Anyhow. This was quite a read. I certainly always kept wanting to know what happens next!
Very impressed. Highly starred and I will back when I can.

- Rena (Bunderful)

I will have a look at your re-written last ch. when I get a moment.

Ron

Ch 19 (orig print out)
This seems to warm down to the personal, the individual. Unable to do much about the big picture, the individual is left to crave a little personal consolation in the form of love. A beautiful man shows up ... but then turns to a crow and there is that horrible smoke of apocalypse. And the image that follows is perhaps of old age.
The line about 'losing touch with reality' is a key one. But which reality? The reality of Demeter, the golden dream. Or the reality of our intelligence which says life is grim. I think it is the former reality, the atavistic reality of our ancient pre-intelligence from which the dreams and stories came to console us.

I don't know if I am in any way near to what you had in mind when writing, but that is how I read it. Maybe I was imposing meanings that are not there, or totally wrong meanings. But what is certain is that I enjoyed being led along by your charming words and allowing my mind to play with all kinds of notions as I followed your word thread, perchance connected to the underlying dreams. *bows*

Ch 18
Back to the fantasy, with bells. Love '...were amazed and horrified at the same time...' What follows has a Blakian feel to it. The notion of shape shifting into a mountain is stirring. It is like becomeing part of what we came from, regressing to nature, the universe. (It also made me think of Hendrix's Purple Haze where he chops a mountain down into an island and says, 'might even raise a little sand!')
There is a strong appocalyse feeling to the earthquakes and fires passage. And it is true that there have been a lot of storms, floods, quakes, and eruptions recently. But then Nature is cruel. At 9 billion we are sorly trying her patience.
Love '...the dust of destruction...death brewing in the air'.
This is how things are for us in many ways '...there was a biting toxicity in the wind...'
The description of Demeter is lovely, a pastoral ideal. And she is touched with fire because it is the sun that givess life to the wheat we need to live...and may kill it and us, too.
'I am only here as a guest' ... this captures how all of us are. But we forget it. We abust Nature. We mess things up in our material greed. And we make ourselves more and more and ruin things more and more as we do. Poor Demeter! We forget her. We modify her. Our intelligence is not poetic.
Indeed 'Rock and fire revolt now.'
Your line 'I have sensed this.' Has an air of prophecy about it.

Ch 17
How fitting that in coming down from the ecstasy of the dream we meet none other than Miss F, the spirit of now, the way of materialism perhaps. There is no pollen or green about Miss.F, who is all heels-n-pearls.
Like Mrs.B staring fiercely.
Also like '...her syrupy southern accent was getting thicker by the minute...'
How fitting that it is MRs.B who gets to turn into a white swan while Miss.F................

Ch 16
Like the idea of '...the boundary was protected by magic...' also '...a powerful spell...' Isn't poetry a little like that? It bars some because it is difficult. Yet others are transported by it, if... they, too, have poetic souls.
Though not tall, I definitely carry myself 'with an elegant ease that contrasts with' my playful spirit. Or at least to think I do!
Love the idea of Embar, 'Nosing his way through hyacinths'. Marvellous stong scented flowers.
The dream at the end is great and cld be a stand alone poem. 'She felt connected' feels like the key aspect. And the fish seem to be an atavistic memory of what we once were, how we once were, miilons of years ago. Is that it? And now here we are, walking around, thinking, and having names! In some way our intelligence is a form of madness as we KNOW we are part of the salty seas, but we are increasingly disconnected from it now by our materiality.

Ch 15
Like the whole graph about '...spring and summer dance hand in hand...' It reminds me of Tennyson's Lotus Eaters.
And I can see Ember and hear June say 'You will be just fine in this lovely meadon Mr.Enbarr.'
'She wanted simply to konw who she was.' Perhaps none of us ever do, not really. We don't know where we have come from or where we are going, other than that our atoms are... Is this why the ancient poets devised the old stories? and created religions? to fill in the gaps.
The last graph of this ch is delighful, full of lotus eating bliss and content. She seems at one with the bench, with life and herself here.

Ch 14
The kite memory seems to symbolise memories of lost youth. Maybe the string was like our parents who kept us from being lost.

The fabled place of eternal youth is a natural subject for literature. It is soooo opposite to science, too.

Love the dab of Ember, the dolphins, the sea and the moon. A great flight of fancy. But then the water becomes blood red, there is salt and a tall forest. All of which cld symbolise fertility,

This is one of the best dabs in the whole story for me, vereeeee Blakian, 'She had come into a map less region of the universe that is out of the reach of science.' It is true, such exists. It is our imagination and will never be defied and measured.

Ch 13
Love Enbarr (he becomes Ember later on). Can smell '...hay and oats...' and such a smell wld trigger memories for those who loved horses when children. Like the idea of Mr.B being able to speak horse. This brings to mind the latter books of Gulliver's Travels where he meets the horses. Mythincal horses are dear to literature and we love them still. The idea of not touching the ground marks the real point where the real flight of fancy begins. It is how we are when we dream and how we want to be when we write and read, if we are lucky. And for those who are not so lucky, well they turn to drugs. No bridle and no saddle shows it is a wild and trusting ride.
Again love the 'swifts aoaring'.

Ch 12
Like the sparkly pollen and the green scarf, which seems like a badge of nature, THE GREEN BADGE OF NATURE even.
Love '...when swifts...soared by them almost touching them...'
Love '...furiously beautiful...'
Laughed at the comic potential of this in realtion to the recent hi-jacking of the word 'cougar': 'These cougars are not natural beings.' Soooooooooo true! And it gets better, 'They are puppets of the dark lord...'
Like '...She dipped the reed in the flask and spoek again, this time in verse...' Magik!
The cougar scene made me think vaguely of civil war, but I think I'm straining it.
Like '...disappeared beneath a calm level of water...' I love swimming. Yet water can be dangerous, too.
This is just sensually delightful, '...the scent of flowers was everywhere...'
Like the notion of '...the salt ridden sea...' which symbolises life and our origins.
Also like the way everything is hand carved in wood, which all seems very natural.
And we wall want to teel '...refreshed and ready for anything.'

Ch 11

Like the idea of '...tiny golden granules of pollen clung to her fingers like glitter...' And this though I get bad hay-fever, but only from grass pollen it seems. Pollen is key to life.
Also like '...a fairy of the meadows...' She seems to be just that anyway. All is shifting in your story from reality to fantasy and sort of ends somewhere in the middle.
Really like '...pelted June like a heavy rain. Her grey eyes looked like sorm clouds on the horizon.'
The notion of Mr.Crane getting it wrong made me smile as journos are always getting it wrong. (You have 'you probably new that' ... but I wld not change it. I like bending words. Poets should always have a licence to bend words when they can.)
'...worried about her mental health...' A few ups and downs go with the magic of the intangible.
Nailing down the cloak really fascinated me. It was a bit like nailing down creative talent for fear of it being lost, not there one day.

Ch 10
Really liked '...moved as a luminous sphere...'
Love the notion on the seat '...stuffed with the mane of a unicorn...'
'She may be in danger...' and '...was on unstable ground now...' made me think of rationality struggling to contend with the seemingly irrational notions that occasionally swim up from our subconscious creativity.

Hello, there, I've got an Alliance of Worldbuilders crit for you! As usual, take with as much salt as desired.

I read the first four chapters and really enjoyed what I read. However, I feel that maybe you spend a little bit too much time and effort describing the setting - so much time is spent describing June's yard in South Carolina that the story drags a bit for me. It's very well-written and your powers of description are impressive, but I don't think that it really moves the story along. When Ben calls to tell June about their aunt, you say that he takes his time getting to thepoint and that's how I felt about the first few chapters. I think you could trim some of the description without losing much of the story, particularly if the story is set more in Kentucky than South Carolina.

Another thing I thought as I was reading was that the dialogue seemed a bit stilted. It just didn't feel very natural to me, particularly in places where people would normally use contractions instead of saying both words ("cannot," for instance). I noticed a few grammar nits as well that made a couple of sentences a little difficult to read, but nothing major. Overall, I really enjoyed what I read and I wish you good luck!

wrote this at 0530 ayem after reading your wonderfully surreal and delightful ch 10 ... the words of the headline just sprang out of your chapter ... I hope you approve *bows*

OF COBWEBS, LAVENDER, AND LIGHT

I am your silver thread of truth
Keep hold of me, your joy to see
I'll guide you well all through your life
For I am love made real for you
To know my strength is your great strength
I will not break and nor will you
In Nature's primacy we're made
Of cobwebs, lavender, and light
Fantasticalities made real
We are in lines divine our selves
In memories of birth and death
Keep hold of me, your truth to be

You are to me Persephone
And I to you, truth's poetry

Orlando fecit

Amy,

I've just read a few of your opening chapters. I'm a lover of lyrical, poetic prose, and the way you evoke scene, sounds, smells, your use of language throughout, is a delight, sometimes (in chapter two) veering into Joycean territory, which is no bad thing in my book. Crucially, though, I didn't find your style over-indulgent or top heavy with imagery and adjective or adverbs, and I think that's important, to keep the story moving along, too.

In chapter one, I noticed something you might want to look at. When the lightning starts, you then go on 'clap..' (I think you might want to add 'of thunder' here, as it reads as clap (of lightning). ) A minor point, in what was a beautifully written opening.

Happy to have you on my shelf (even if I meant to watchlist you at first), and have given you a high star rating

Best of luck with your writing

Neil 'The Butterfly and the Wheel'

Dappled with prose, makes pleasurable reading.

Some minor edit points ...

Aut ch 7 ... June got right to the point immediately ... tautology?
... and in the next graph ... feet off as she entered. As she entered ... just a little road bump clash

Aut ch 9 ... graph 2 ... dappled >> dabbled ??

Making Inferances

This is a cracking chapter, full of creeping intrigues and outrageous flight of fancy. I love it. It has supurb otherness that takes us from the material nonsense of the now, which seems dull comapared to all the mystery you evoke.

This dab is the best bit for me, 'Shadows danced around the room ... and the room grew a shade darker. Her aunt's eyes sparkled.'

Will read on anon.

The Journalist or Miss.Fox and Mr.Crane

Like 'her thoughts were percolating' also the buzzard, the bee and the spider, all of which must be representative. All get their livings in different ways, is that their purpose?

BUT!

The absolutely fascinating aspect here is S.Crane ... of Red Badge Of Courge Fame i guess. He, too, was a journalist was he not? Also I believe that part of the world must have been muchly fought over in your civil war. All those red flowers cld represent wounds even.

S.Crane really intrigues me. And makes me wonder if the name of the creek earlier is significant ,too.

This I am enjoying!

The Vale of the Bramblewell

Just as the mountain landside showed the violence of nature, this chapter shows her charm, bounty and beauty. Mr. B is an archytyple Green Man, the living embodiment of those faces carved from medieval times, from Roman times, from earlier times in all types of places, leaves streaming from their eyes and mouths. We need such spirits now. Mega cities are devoid of Green Men ... this means they are in the deepest of trouble. the further they stray from the spirit of Bramblewell. But of course they will not listen.

Mr B evokes all kinds of positve thoughts, Walden Pond, Beatrix Potter even. Also his deerskin pants link him with the spirit of the creature in some way. And the fact they are 'worn' distances him from the latte sipping Sex in the City batallions of cougars. What an insult to sleek mountain lions it is that the term cougar has been stolen to mis-describe a far less appealing sub-species.

The Devil's walking stick I can't work out...though, hmm, the beavers don't seem to be able to get to it, it seems. Hmm!

By the way, I cld imagine Riders on the Storm and perhaps Dark Side Of the Moon being on the radio during the drive earlier.

This line is one that the entire human race may sigh one day, 'Ahh, I have missed this place.'

There is great happiness in this chapter, though there is also foreboding. Balance at every turn!

Dark Dreams and A New Day

This is calmer and more settled than the previous two chapters, But unease and menace is building over the amber fox lady ... as the deer is representative then so, too, the fox must represent craft perhaps.

Looking at the first reflective graph, the old boy seems like some capitalist boss. Perhaps the capitalist bosses of the 19th century and early 20th were like the monsters in the legends, esp in the way they raped the earth.

The mouse and the crack in the wall made me think of Alice in W.

The flowers and the quilt seem strongly linked also. As for all that amber! There has to be a colour code here. Even the merc is in the amber range.

Bramblewell I love. He is my kind of kind guy. He is on the side fo the deer. Perhaps he was in the deer in some way. Perhaps they are one and the same.

The last graph of this chapter is cracking. All manner of references seem to come together there. I love it.

Publishers will be freake by all this though as they will not be able to work out which box to put it into! But that is the charm of your creation, the fact is out of the box. There is great creative freedom in play. There is instability of all kinds, yet it holds together. There is madness, yet balance. Agents and publishers wld prob be too stupid to see all this, but say a 17 year old intelligent kid whose mind has not been bludgened into conformity wld love the oddness of it all.

(more)

After the tear moment, the chapter escalates throught he emotional gears into a state of wild emotional and physical movement, excitement and danger. The deer seems a saviour amid the wildness, perhaps the softer side of nature. it is also an intesnsely physical presence: 'She cld feel the heat radiating off of his body.' It feels full of positive vigour. It's sheer physicality seems to puncture her metaphysical mood. But equally the moutain's movements seem to reinforce her emotional distress. It is as if all her strongest apprehensions have become real. Which of these two realities will predominate? She follows her saviour, the deer.

The wildness mounts and mounts the further she goes down and down. The emotional barometer is plummeting. The violence of it all seems to be at its height in the colours. 'Green and black and red, the Earth was mad with rage.'

We all have to live with nature and I think there is an allegory in this for all of us in our city-arrogance. Will our collective mountain behave like that to us all one day? There is a nighmare quality about the hundreds of boulders cascading around her.

(Edit note -- you have near the end ... crashed on June and June fell so hard ...)

(more)

'June began to think more deeply.' We can sense the journey absorbing her and allowing her to journey into her own Appalachians. Her mood and the weather seems matched.

This is a great line, 'She walked within herself without a tour guide...' The fact her trail is a bit overgrown perhaps signifies how we all become a little overgrown without realising it as we pass 30-40-50 ... and then at some special moments we see ourselves in a clearer light.

'...the more personal regions of her being.' A great journey indeed! Yes, we all find those things, pain etc, loss especially, even if it is only loss of our selves, of our youth, of what we were.

This is a cracking dab also, 'lumps of coal that had know fire in days previous.' And so apt to the underworld theme and perhaps, to the local coal mining business of that region.

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CHAPTER TWO DOWN

This was the chapter I missed reading. I am glad I came back to it as there is some great stuff in it and I enjoyed the read immensely.

As with the earlier chapter, it builds to what seems a pivotal point, in this case the supurb coincidence of the tear and the rain drop. I love that dab.

The notion of the journey appeals strongly. It just seems exciting. I have read about the Appalachians in WALK IN THE WOODS, a fantastic book. So I the notion of the drive and the mountains all around holds great appeal.
But there are two journeys going on. The physical and the metaphysical, both of which seem to meet in the tear-rain-drop moment.

She drove and drove. There is great restlessness in the motion. And the music -- which we can all hear and identify with -- helps sets the mood.

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Lot of description to which I am not a fan of but it is well done. Sentence breaks disrupt the flow a bit making it read slower than expected. Good idea for a story. Hope it is successful. You have put a lot of work into it and it shows.

Chapter 2.

Well what a beautiful start; much more literary than fantasy at the beginning. My writing pales before yours. You have a beautiful and smooth voice that evokes interest. Your dialogue is crisp and natural. Of course, I'll have to read more before I can really comment, but it seems you're a real writer! Well done.

Old Bob
A PLACE IN LIFE

Drawn by the originality of your title--"The Women Who Fly Kites"--I read your prologue (as mentioned earlier) and have paused to comment. The importance of your opening paragraph cannot be underestimated, so you'll have to put up with this old editor's nit-picking before I discuss your work overall.

"Mantlepiece" is one word, and they're always over a fireplace. Your second sentence could be confusing and should be omitted, as the photo is nicely described in the second paragraph. As for gray eyes, one could hardly tell if they were gray or blue in a faded black-and-white photograph. And where you used the word "conciseness," didn't you mean "consciousness"? All right--enough! Now I can say how much I admire the way you build atmosphere, using colorful adjectives, and how effectively you bring your reader into the story with realistic dialogue, subtle character drawing, and a hint of the supernatural in the timely storm.

On to backing your book and reading the next chapter, Bill ("The Doctor of Summitville")

Some time ago, Amy, you asked me to read "The Women Who Fly Kites." Finally I have time to give it a look. Great title, by the way. And your first chapter is impressive as the young girl explores an old photograph amid an aura of unusual weather, the goddess Persephone, and a mysterious golden thread. I love it, and will definitely read on.

Meanwhile, would you kindly take a look at "The Doctor of Summitville," a love story involving medical practice that will place you back in the 1920s and '30s. I should mention that it's not a fantasy, but sternly realistic. Still, I believe, judging from your own writing, that you'll like it. Best wishes, Bill

Dear Amy,

I like your outlook more than your pitch, which is excellent anyway.

I have quickly put the book on my watchlist and shall read it tonight.

Cheers
Jay Adiyarath
EXPIRY DATE

I've done something really stupid, even for me.
I printed out 5 and missed 4. Consequently I was totally freaked when as I read out of sequence. Idiot! I will print out 4 and try and collect my scattered thoughts.

p.s. you have a literal in 5 >>> she cld manure her way through the rubble ... ahem! Moving swiftly onwards.

Aut ch 3.

'And she delights in the observation.' This seems to capture your writing style. The senses of pastoral bliss in the early graphs of this chapter is exquisite. I love the sense of easy you evoke and the June's sensual intimacy with nature. The cat, squirrel and lizard are all part of the same resftul scene. This is a great and rare moment, relaxing to read. It is soooo removed from how most of us are most of the time. And the it shows how we can see and feel more when we are in such a state. There are no car chases, no guns going off, no gang rapes, no nastiness of any kind i.e. no story. But that does not matter as through inaction we can travel far. And achieving such inaction is very, very difficult for us. We go to all kinds of odd and expensive lengths to achieve it, drugs for many. But you show how focusing on nature can give us great joy.

And of course -- having written 40,000 words entitled Watching Swifts -- I naturally approve entirely of 'Swifts dart and sail.' The ecstasy mounts until what seems to ba a pitch with the sentence beginning, 'She gazes up towards the sky ... lets go and loses herself ... a sword of thanksgiving ...'

Maybe the graphs are like verses and it is a disguised poem. Anyway, I think that THAT is the pivotal line in the whole chapter '...a sword of thanksgiving...' because the notion and wording is charismatic and ecstatic and, above all for me, it is a homage to Nature. There is nothing of city, slickness about that dab. It removes us from all that and takes us to a better state.

But this will not be popular with publishers as it is too beautiful and they don't get that. Where's the story, the action, the hit, they will moan. What genre is all this? Idiots. And of course most of them are cool fellows lost in cities who have no idea about nature.

As far as I am concerned -- reading for poetry -- that dab alone is worth the read. You cld strip those seven graphs back to the poetry and have something even more lovely.

And then the phone rings and jerks us back to reality and the aggravations of our walking around lives.

My suspicion is that you are happier writing the poetry but feel you have to dress it up with some prose to come up with something that a publisher might see as a book as -- as we all know -- poetry does not sell. Or so they wld have us believe.

The squirrel barking as the phone goes cld be barking at the intrusion in his peace, as it is his peace, too!

Ach, concerns and lists! O for a life sans lists. Such a life wld be the opposite of listless as it is the craze to make lists and our inability to ever really cross everything off that makes us unhappy and, yes, listless.

Orlando
WATCHING SWIFTS

have now read aut ch 3. even better than the opener. comment to follow later. BACKED n 6 starred as I love it.

Aut Ch 2.

There is a cadence in 'a relic with which to be reckoned.' The rs are practicallly ws so the aliteration is strong. And the words are meaningful, conveying the notion that this is no ordinary relic, but a welic of consequence.

The first graph makes the pic feel alive. Reality is captured by the camera and the image is in turn captured in the words, in a second sequence of eyes which our eyes then receive. It is like a smooth baton-passing relay of life observed, captured and readanimated.

'...fall in a downpour.' in graph three might be a couple of syllables faster.Is it in fact needed? Cld it be cut out and the point removed to give. 'Rain began to clatter-batter ... etc' So, too, 'large droplets of rain' might become large drops slammed..' The 'smell of moss' dab is great, very active and evocative. The embers blinking is very strong, but cld be a couple of syllables quicker. I also like the notion of the house moaning. If that third graph were two lines shorter... bingo!

Graph 4 works well. Persephone is a cracking name. We are not the same species as we were in 1910. We are in fact unrecognisable, culturally and in many other ways. Perhaps in 1910 they were in some ways closer to classical times than to our times. Are things better now? The power of old photos to make us reflect and reassess ourselves is strong.

Many stories start with the device of a storm, often to symbolise emotional turmoil. But your young girl seems to be handling the photo in quite a calm way.I suppose the storm evokes the notion of Zeus the great hurler of thunder being in the background of out minds. Maybe the thunder is an invite for us to think clasically. And of course flying kites is a weather dependant pastime.

The poem, with its ten syllable metre, immediately sets yout story apart from post-moderism as post-modernists have no time for that sort of thing. Idiots. And yes, Milton is soooooooooo uncool for our present age that it is a super-uber turn on. Yes, romantic elitism is a massive buzz. Milton enjambing away like a love sick pup! Marvellous!

Can you avoid having dogwood/dogwood so close? There is a link somewhere in confetti and embers perhaps. But are embers really golden? I will look next time I am sitting by a fire.

I like the blinking dab. It is great, but does it need to be mentioned twice? It felt like a bit of a road bump to read it the second time. Can you devlop it maybe? Blink, wink, staring embers even?

The thread is great. I like that. I thought it might be a hair at first. It is uber-romantic. And the damn thing cuts her! Hmm, for the delicate thread to turn savage did make me wonder. But why not? The blood pooling is great. History and its works still have a bearing on our lives now, physically in this case. History is made of blood and we have history in us. Her licking of the blood seems instinctual. And I can see her wrinkled, thoughtful brow.

'...were visualising...' I thought a bit slow. Cld it be more active, esp as her imagination is strongly engaged now. Perhaps combining a descriptive dab about her physicality -- black eyes -- with her intense inner vision strains things a bit. Ach, forget I spoke! Everything escalates with the introduction of the kite in the next breath. Cleary the thread is a piece of old kite thread. Such a sanded thread must have been wicked on the hands of the flyers! Did they really have such sanded threads? You must have checked it out.

The breaking of her reverie and her petulant secrativeness is quite a moment. It makes us wonder why she is like that. Good stuff. Do we like her? Do we approve of her disaproval of her brother's annoying intrusion.

Perhaps we can be annoyed at him also, because WE want to know, too. But all this piques our curiosity.

'...completing the task his aunt had assigned to him.' is a bit long.

Cld she be determined to go back to the pic in the last graph? Cld she need to go back to it even. Cld her need be stronger with every step she takes away from it. And cld she feel certain that she will return to it? She might feel some superiority over her brother because her certainty. OK he has distracted her by his intrustion, but ber certainty of her intent to know more cld trump him. The thread in her pocket is great, as it seems to signify a taking away of the past, that she has formed a link with the past, that she has the past ... and that the past has her in its thrall in some way. Great stuff!

Do the blood and the spider have Poe like notes to them perhaps? P is not exactly the sweetest natured girl. '...melancholy blue...' is a little finger-post which tells us. 'Trouble ahead!' I wonder if June is a Crucible type vixen. I don't think she is, but it did cross my mind.

How am I doing? It was enjoyable reading poet-to-poet. I feel it's OK to get into the atoms of wording with a poet type as we love all that stuff! A prose writer wld be lost in the face of such crash testing.

For me, the strongest part of this chapter is the string becase it literally links the past with June's present. Hmmm, so who will turn out to be Pluto in your story. I note Dis has already had a mention via Milton. Hmm, cld the eyes blinking in the fire be someone from the underworld watching? Cld playing with the underworld be like playing with fire? And cld the bloodied finger have a reference to loss of innocence. I am clearly speculating. But then there may be a clue in your title. The notion of women flying kites must be significant. I wld read on to try solve the mystery you have set.

Orlando
WATCHING SWIFTS

Orlando
WATCHING SWIFTS

Amy, you write really well. This is an intriguing and mysterious first chapter. I really enjoyed it, especially the beginning when it's as if the reader is looking down on the scene of June with the photograph.
Backed.

Very descriptive, vivid. I have rated and plan on returning .Well done
Red

Enchanting story. Amy has a way with words and I hope she persues her forte and applies her talents in prose and storytelling. I know it's fantasy but I wish I could express myself as well as she does. I wish this book to hit the best seller list!!! Go AMY!

TampaBayGal

Women who fly Kites. I cant quite see the point of the cover, which appears to be looking through the twigs of a tree to a blue sky. But your pitches prepare me for an interesting read. Para two of the long pitch is a little confusing.

I make notes as I write, but dont pretend to be an expert.

Prologue. I cant remember who told me, but I was warned at school hundreds of years ago never to start sentences with na '-ing' word. Take away resting, and you dont detract. But it might be even better if you tried to make as many sentences as possible start simply with the subject, then go on to the verb, and the object. i.e. 'An old photograph of a young girl rested on the mantelpiece above a fireplace...'
Just a thought - if you did that exercise on your first paragraph, to my mind it would be easier for the reader to understand.
You dont need most of the 'forbidden' words, either; like began, so, seemed, down (after looked), easily, gently, just.
I like the picture of the embers blinking with tiny golden cats' eyes. You have a way with words, which turn your prose into poetry.
Is unabated the right word to use for Bennie, I wonder?
Try not to repeat the same words in a paragraph - it becomes boring for the the reader: easily, back, are examples.
You havent mentioned a spider until the final paragraph. Is this significant?

Ch.1. Present tense now. A good technique. But you dont need a comma after and. And if you use inverted commas for thoughts, be sure to close them.
Enough of nit-picking. (Although you will have to do some serious editing eventually). I will now concentrate on your story.
I wonder it it is a pecan tree on your cover?
You paint a gentle, poetic picture of the lady in the garden, with the pecan tree, the swifts, the squirrels, and the cat, communing with nature. It reminds me of the final chapter of my book, Breath of Africa - with different animals!

Ch.2. Would it not be better to say '... was her only thought...'?
I am there with June in the car on her long drive home through the rain, then following the deer and running with the landslide. You describe it well.

Ch.3. I enjoy the humourous touch of socks not matching.
Dont you mean she could manoevre her way through the rubble?

You have a great imagination, and yours is an enchanting story. I presume you are aiming at the young adult market. The chapters are short, and there are some breathtaking descriptive passages.
You just need to refine your work with judicious editing - dont we all.

Best of luck with this.
Jane. (Breath of Africa)