Critique: Hidden Canyon

Another excerpt from Absolute Write's Share Your Work forum, used with permission.

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George awoke to the feel of a rough gloved hand across his mouth. In the dim glow from the bedside clock, he could see his neighbor Bill, a finger in front of his lips, signifying silence. Bill whispered, "Get dressed and follow me, quickly. I'll explain outside." Bill had been his neighbor just long enough to earn a measure of trust, so George dressed quickly, then followed Bill down the hall and out the back door.

I like that you started at an interesting point in your story, and with an explosive first line. However, I see a few details jarred me from the story.

1. Starting with the main character waking up can be seen as a cliché, even though your character is waking up in an astonishing fashion. This didn’t bother me, but it may bother some editors.

2. In English speaking cultures, everyone knows that a finger over one’s lips is silencing. When you explicitly describe this motion, I feel like you’re wasting a little space. Bill could shush George, saving you words.

3. If the only light is his digital clock, and Bill just woke up, will he really recognize his next door neighbor? It might be better, both for your story logic and for your style, if you introduce George and let Bill be a dark figure for a few lines.

4. Telling me that Bill has earned a measure of trust isn’t enough to get me to believe that George wouldn’t have freaked out.

5. Why did Bill put his hand over George’s mouth instead of shaking him awake, whispering his name, or tapping him?


"Where's Amy?" asked Bill as he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure George was sticking close.

"Her mom's been ill, so she went to visit her for a few days. What the hell's going on, Bill?"

I have trouble believing that George would have gone into such detail, given the odd circumstances.

"Hold on, just a few minutes more. I want to get away from the house first. Trust me that long, ok?"

I’d really like to be in George’s head right now. What questions is he asking himself? What answers is he coming up with? For instance, wouldn’t he wonder how Bill got inside?

"Alright," said George. His voice was a bit gruff from being awakened in the middle of the night, and a little fearful from the stress of the situation. His concerns and fears rumbled through his mind as he followed quietly behind Bill, who moved swiftly yet silently across the yard, as he expected from the ex-marine. [The clause on the end of this phrase needs revised. Your “he” in this sentence, grammatically, is referring back to Bill, even though logically I know you must mean George.] Although he tried to emulate Bill's cat-like movements, he felt awkward and out of place trying to be quiet and inconspicuous. What was he doing, he wondered, sneaking through his own back yard like a thief in the night?

Thief in the night is a clichéd phrase. I’d consider finding your own way to say this. I would also try to find a way to kill the adverbs. They’re telling me that Bill is quick and sneaky – but you could be showing me the same details.

They crossed the lawn toward the thick woods that edged the back of the property. Bill led the way along a path that wound through the woods, then up the face of the hill at the back of the development. The full moon and crisp autumn sky allowed for a clear view of the landscape. The homes below appeared haphazardly [If you kill the adverb here, I think your sentence would be stronger.] strewn on their five to ten acre plots. Some of the homes were in the recent 'McMansion' style, but most were less easily classified, ranging from sprawling ranches to old-fashioned saltboxes. Swimming pools and outbuildings were common, including garages, workshops, greenhouses, and others with no readily-apparent use. [I’m not sure this laundry list at the end of your paragraph is helping any.]

I really like the McMansion line.

Bill led them behind a granite boulder the size of George's Grand Cherokee high above his home. Behind it, sitting on the pine needles and leaves, were two other men. One was older than George, somewhat familiar, and a bit rumpled looking as befit the time of day, while the other one looked perfectly alert, fit and trim, perhaps in his mid-twenties. They waved a casual greeting to the Bill and George, then cleared a spot for them to sit.

"George, this is Frank Stevens and Larry Winston. You probably remember Frank from the fourth of July cookout." George remembered the jolly, rotund man with the graying hair. The older man nodded at George as he reached out to take his hand in a firm grip.

"Yes, I remember," George said. "Nice to see you again, Frank. I remember that brand new bright red Jag convertible you were driving. That sure is a beautiful car."

The small talk about cars is really jarring me from the scene.

George noticed the grim look on Frank's face as he answered. "Yeah, it is, I hope I get to keep it."

"What do you mean, you hope you get to keep it?" When Frank just shook his head, George turned back to Bill. "Are you ready to tell me why you dragged me all the way up here in the middle of the night?"

Without answering George, Bill glanced over at Frank. "Anything happening yet?"

Frank shook his head in negation, keeping his eyes on the roads below.

Bill leaned back against the boulder and rubbed his hands together to ward off the autumn chill. "Well, I guess we've got time for the short version before the excitement starts. Not only is Frank a doctor, his hobby is firearms. He's a licensed dealer, and he has some guns that are illegal for the average guy to own. Apparently that's reason enough for the local ATF office to occasionally decide he must be doing something illegal and try to prove it. His home's been raided twice before, and it's going to get raided again in a little while." When George started to interrupt, Bill waved him off.

This feels like you’re giving this information for the reader’s benefit instead of the other characters’ benefit. It almost feels like an ex-marine quickly briefing someone, but it falls just short. Cut a few details, or perhaps reword it a bit.

"Luckily the county sheriff is a friend and knows Frank better than that, so he sent his son up to warn him when he heard what was planned." Bill gestured toward the younger of the two men. "Larry's a county deputy. Larry, this is George Adams. He's only been living in the area a few months."

I feel like this information is being presented solely for my benefit.

Larry stuck out his hand for a quick greeting, nodding to George as he did so. Larry's grip was firm. George noticed the well-defined muscles in his forearms and guessed that he was much stronger than his slim frame indicated. He wondered how many times someone on the wrong side of the law had underestimated the deputy, simply because he was a few inches shorter than the average lawman. The two men exchanged pleasantries, then George turned back toward Bill.

"Well, I have to say it's nice meeting your two friends, and I'm sorry to hear about Frank's problems," George said, "but what's that got to do with me?"

Larry took the lead in the conversation. "Mr. Adams, we're not really sure. All we know is there are two addresses on the warrants, and the second address is yours."

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Eight matte-black ATF vans turned off the Interstate and rolled down Jefferson Avenue, their headlights winking off as they entered the subdivision. They turned right into a boulevard flanked by stone walls. A sign between the lanes of the entrance proclaimed that they were entering Hidden Canyon Estates. The trees that lined the boulevard rustled gently in the backwash of the wake left by the speeding vehicles.

In the lead vehicle, Agent Edwards shifted in the driver's seat as he thumbed the mike switch. "Strike Team, this is Strike Leader. We're go for operation. Units two through four, follow us; units five through eight, good luck."

Agent Edwards paid scant attention to the acknowledgments of the other seven units. His thoughts were on the upcoming action. He hoped there was no Kathryn Johnston involved in what should be a simple operation. If many more 92-year-old women were shot and killed during these actions, the Supreme Court might decide to reverse their position on 'no-knock' raids.

I feel like this scene should come at the very beginning. Then, if you still have Bill waking George up by grabbing his mouth, the reader will assume—briefly—that it’s your MIBs.

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"My address?" George's sense of unreality, already triggered by the excursion up the hillside in the middle of the night, reached a new level. "Why my address? What's the ATF, and why would they be interested in me?"

"The ATF is the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. As for why, we really don't know, George," Larry said. "All we know is that no-knock raids are scheduled for two addresses in Hidden Valley. My dad was extended the courtesy of being invited along as an observer because he's the sheriff of the county. They told him to meet them at the entrance to the subdivision at 3:45, and the two addresses that were targeted. That's all the information he was given."

"Now, wait a minute. I don't own a gun or explosives, and I certainly don't have a still. I don't even smoke! I'll just go back home, and tell them they're mistaken when they arrive." His building panic was evident in the tone of his voice, although he tried hard to control it.

And cut.

I think the areas you need to focus on most are story logic and dialogue. Since I don’t know anything about George, almost all of his reactions strike me as unrealistic. I walk away from the first thousand or so words wondering why Bill is helping George, why someone would have tipped Bill off that George’s house was about to get raided, and why a group of men have risked getting in trouble with the government to protect him.

Also, I think you would benefit from reading your dialogue out loud. For the most part, your dialogue is decent – but every so often, something comes out sounding a little stiff and robotic. When you’re panicking about something, do you use words like arrive and mistaken? Those are not the words of a man who’s been woken up in the middle of the night be his neighbor and told that his house is about to be attacked.