Short not Sweet: Cherry Soda by Haley Stone

A reading, writing, and editing journey in three parts.

Today, I want to introduce you to Haley Stone and her Substack, Short not Sweet. Haley is a writer from South Africa, and after reading her charming genre story, Cherry Soda, I reached out and asked if she’d be interested in running through some editing passes. Every version of the story is available, as are all the notes I passed along to her, but you can also skip all of that and read the final version here.

For the full journey, you’ll read the original version of Cherry Soda, come back and read my editor notes, read the first rewrite of the story, come back and read my final notes, and finally read read the final version. You can also do whatever combination makes sense to you.

One: The original version of Cherry Soda

Two: My first editorial notes:

Dear Haley,

It’s rare that I’ve offered to do this, but something struck me about your story, and in it, I see a path for you to make some quick advancements as a writer. The critique process can be painful, but that’s not my intent. I chose your story because I see potential.

The Quick Fixes:

First, there’s the issue of “the diner table” which is an awkward construction. For far too long, I wasn’t sure if you meant dinner table. That’s some confusion we can avoid by removing “at the diner table” entirely.

When talking about Jenny’s boyfriend, you write: “She’d had a crush on him…” You mean Becky had a crush, but the structure of the sentence suggests that the “she” in question is Jenny. We can solve that by replacing the pronoun with the correct name.

Describing the stranger as looking like a beatnik is jarring. It’s an uncommon reference and suggests the story takes places sixty years ago. It’s also unnecessary, as you then show us what that means. We can solve that by removing the beatnik reference.

You need to make it clear from the beginning that it’s night, but there’s more that needs to be established early on.

Some More Difficult Issues:

The tone of the story isn’t horror, and that’s okay if that’s your intent. However, the reveal should be foreshadowed. It needs to feel right for the story, and to do that we need to establish certain themes earlier. Five paragraphs in, you tell us she’s hungry, but that hunger is the key theme. Consider tying a rumbling tummy to the slurping of her cherry soda in the first paragraph, thereby tying the hunger to your metaphor for drinking blood. Don’t just tell us she’s hungry. It’s a key point. Make us feel it.

Then you can remove the hunger reference later, as the reader will be keenly aware. It’s a paragraph of contradictory statements, anyway. She didn’t eat all day in anticipation of eating lots of junk food but then ordered the smallest burger and fries. It’s more likely that she didn’t eat because she’s self-conscious around her “friends”, but you don’t have to tell us that. As we feel her hunger and then see her discomfort around her thin, childhood friends, we’ll understand.

More Work-Intensive Issues:

Becky is too unguarded and trusting. You felt this and tried to adjust for it by having her question herself after the fact, and that’s a tactic we’ve all tried at some point. I’d like to see you go back and rework the dialog to justify them walking together. If it’s a case of hypnotic suggestion, give hints without saying outright. Perhaps she thinks she’s dizzy from hunger.

Watch for phrases which add no meaning. I’ll illustrate using the first paragraph. (I’ll also remove the “diner table” reference as that’s a different problem.)

Becky froze as everyone turned around and stared at her. She’d just made a loud slurping noise finishing the last of her cherry soda. She hadn’t meant to; it was a force of habit with her.

That they stare at her is implied. She’s sitting next to them, so they don’t turn around. They just turn and look, and we can assume her slurping her drink wasn’t someone else’s habit.

In the silence of that moment, before she’s able to apologize and when everyone’s attention is on her, that would be the most impactful moment to add the tummy rumble, adding to her embarrassment.

Three: The first rewrite of the story

Four: My notes after the rewrite:

I’ve just begun, but I’m really liking what you’ve done with it. I’ll point out some trifles as they come to mind, and we’ll see what’s to be addressed after.

I would recommend removing this line:

Sally, Jenny and Mary-sue. They were all thin and pretty and looked great in the latest fashions. She was too fat to look good in anything. Each of them had a boy seated next to them. She was sitting alone in the corner of the booth.

You set up her weight issue well enough without it, and it doesn’t quite land the way you want.

Capitalize both names in Mary Sue.

Some minor points and suggestions:

She broke into a run, not wanting to hear anymore [any more]. Cool, night air brushed her wet face as she burst through the doors. Tears ran freely now. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed [period needed]

She heard [H]her stomach growl[ed] again, there was [like] a hole sucking on her insides. She didn’t even get to eat anything and she wanted food so bad.

I’m making these recommendations because, if we’re making the same point twice, we want to keep the stronger one. We want to remove the filter of her hearing her stomach. Now we hear it instead, and the intimacy between us and the character grows. We change the comma splice into a simile, easing the flow of the sentence, and finally we remove what we know and what can be inferred and get right to the the point.

The elements the story needed are falling into place. This is very promising.

She startled at the voice coming from behind. It sounded like an 80 year old man who’d smoked twenty packs a day from birth.

I want to suggest simplifying this into one long sentence or two fragments. Remove the direction. Make the thought flow.

To her surprise, the speaker was a young man.

This line doesn’t work. It destroys so much of what you’re building up by removing the intimacy and distancing the reader from the characters and the story. The culprits are “to her surprise” and “the speaker”.

He was dressed in a leather jacket and had a goatee [I corrected the spelling]. His thick curls sprang wildly from underneath a poor boy cap, reminding her of a lion. He smelled of tobacco [spelling again—maybe these are regional differences?] and motor oil.

If you want, you can cut the line that doesn’t work and have this one begin: He was a young man dressed in…

Only I don’t recommend keeping the word dressed. I want something that will work with both the leather jacket and the goatee. Styled is a choice. He was a young man, styled in a leather jacket and goatee. If he were a different type of character he could be hiding behind them, but that doesn’t feel right. Sporting instead of styled in would work, as would boasting.

I want to suggest Thick curls instead of His thick curls, and mostly that doesn’t matter, except that you’re running a series of sentences that begin with He and this one begins with His. Remove the word and you improve the variation.

Not the kind of man she should be talking to. She glanced around; [T]the street was empty except for the two of them. Her heart beat a little faster.

Nice. I know it’s strange to say I like it when I’m suggesting cuts, but the removals are meant to reveal what’s already there.

“Sure, I’m fine,” she muttered and wiped her tears.

“Oh sorry, I should have known you were crying tears of joy.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his jean pocket.

“I saw what happened. Great friends you’ve got there.”

“Well, I guess they aren’t really my friends. What’s it to you?”

“Oh nothing. I just don’t think anyone deserves to be treated that way.”

The dialog was something I wanted to address more after the initial rewrite, but this is so much better. It feels much more natural. I’m going to make suggestions anyway, but with everything I suggest, remember that it’s just my opinion.

My suggestion is the last line. This is the climax of this micro-segment of dialog, Cut the fluff.

“Oh nothing. I just don’t think anyone [No one] deserves to be treated that way.”

His words caused [Her] tears to well up again. She blinked and looked away. Her head was swimming [swam] and the ground felt unsteady beneath her.

Again, I’m cutting to reveal what’s there (and to keep verb tenses consistent). The last line of the paragraph is different, though.

She really needed something to eat.

There’s a missed opportunity here to tie this into the segue you’re attempting with the dialog. You need to give her a reason to walk with this stranger and also reveal the impact her hunger is having. Right now, you’ve shown us and then told us with that closing line.

I suggest you cut that line and replace it with new dialog. He says she doesn’t look well. She says she’s just hungry. Low blood sugar. He says they’ve got to get something in her, and until they do, she’s in no shape to walk alone.

She wants to decline but can’t. Instead, she accepts his protection.

That’s how I think you can best use the details you’ve built up to move her into the situation the story needs.

Now these lines go:

“Thanks. I should be getting home.”

“Okay. How you getting there?”

“Oh, I’ll walk, my neighborhood is just a few blocks away.”

But work this in as part of his offer to help get her home:

“I could give you a lift.” He inclined his head towards a Harley Davidson parked a few feet away.

She struggled to come up with the right thing to say to get him to leave her alone without making him mad. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and she couldn’t think properly.

Her response changes, though. Focus on the details of her dizziness from hunger. She tells him she’s afraid she’d fall off.

“No thank you, I can’t get on a bike. My father would kill me.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She took two steps and stumbled.

“Woah, you okay there.[?]”

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little woozy.”

Keep it focused and tight.

“I don’t like letting you go off into the street like this. Let me walk with you a bit.”

Maybe he was dangerous, maybe she would collapse in the road on the way home, she didn’t know anymore. She was too hungry and tired and faint to argue.

“All right,” she agreed.

The long sentence is a comma splice. Twice. Keep it if you want. Change it into abrupt, short sentences if you prefer.

They walked in silence for a bit. The dizziness had faded, but her thoughts were covered in a thick blanket. She couldn’t concentrate on anything with her stomach gnawing at her.

You repeat the phrase “a bit” in close proximity. Cut this one. Keep the tense intimate. Don’t explain your metaphor. You’ve set it up. We’re with you.

“I never got your name,” she said, trying to regain focus. “I’m Becky, by the way.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“All right, Steve. So, are you a part of a biker gang or something?”

“A gang? No way. I ride solo. I’m a lone wolf.”

“So what do you do for a living?”

“I don’t do anything for a living, I just live. Each morning, I get on my bike and go wherever the road takes me. I sleep under the stars. I do whatever I want.”

“So you’re a bum.”

“That’s what most people would call me, I suppose.”

“I think I might envy you. It sounds so free. Still, it must be a hard life, on the streets.”

“Not for me.”

When she calls him a bum, it’s too direct. She’s not that impolite. The reference to her father didn’t work for me before, and I think I’m going to suggest removing the idea that she still lives with her parents. We’ll see when we get that far, but this is where a reference would work: “My dad would say you’re a bum.”

I almost wrote “father” because that’s the word you used. Is Becky the kind of person who call him father or would she call him dad?

The moon ducked in and out behind the oak trees as they reached the suburbs. Closer to food. There was leftover chicken, and ice cream in the freezer, and Cheez Whiz…

“Don’t you ever get lonely though?” she asked.

He took a drag from his cigarette.

“Sure, course I do. But it’s better this way. Safer for people to stay away from me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’ve never been cut out for civilized society. My appetites are just too strong. I’ve tried to fight them, truly I have. But I always lose.”

I love that section.

She supposed he was talking about alcohol or drugs. Or women? Who was she to judge, when all she could think about was getting home so she could stuff her face.[?]

“I see,” she said. “You know, I think I might become a lone wolf too. People are just too mean and fake. Who needs ‘em’.”

“Good for you. With enemies like those, who needs friends, right.[?]”

She glanced away, smiling. Then stopped walking.

“Well, here we are.”

“Your parents. They home?” he asked.

“No, they went to a party.”

I’m going to suggest something more subtle from him and less reckless from her. He’ll ask something like: anyone home to make sure you’re okay?

“Yeah,” she lied. “I’ll be fine.”

The second part of that suggestion is whatever, but I really want her response to be instinctual. She doesn’t know why she’s lying. We don’t know. But we know she is lying and there’s no one waiting for her. She’s in danger.

“I just want to say, those boys are fools. I think you’re just swell. I like a girl with some meat on her bones.”

I think swell is interesting. It’s anachronistic. That character shouldn’t say it. No one in 2025 should say it, but least of all him. It reveals something about his character. He’s not who he appears to be, and part of that, is he’s much older and carrying slang from another time.

The just is overdoing it, however.

She forced a smile. She [and] felt exposed, like she was standing there naked, even with all her clothes on.

I’m addressing these sentences separately because their needs are different. The part above just needs tightening up.

The second part:

What had she been thinking, walking around at night with a strange man.

I want you to give this sentence style. You can ask the first part of your question (and remember your question mark) and then follow it by fragments. One or two words each. That’s one option. You choose, but it needs some stylistic punch. It’s an important thought and needs to drive home its point with panache.

“Well… Good night then. Thanks for walking me home.”

He flicked his half[-]finished cigarette to the pavement and stomped on it.

“Good night Becky. It was real nice talking to you.”

“Nice talking to you too. Good night.”

She took several steps backward, turned around towards the house. Picked up her pace. Then b[B]roke into a run.

Turned around is unnecessary and too much, other than that, the other cuts are a matter of taste. Entirely optional.

Arms like steel bars locked around her waist, pulled her to the ground. Fangs glinted in the moonlight. Then the sting, just above her collarbone.

She tried to fight him, but it was like trying to lift a truck. Tried to scream, but had no breath.

Hot blood trickled down her chest and pooled on the lawn. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was the safety of her house a few feet away.

The important cut here is “pooled on the lawn.” When in her POV, and I don’t think she sees that.

“You’re a vampire.”

“And now, so are you.”

I think it works better if you don’t state the obvious. Also, no comma needed here:

I didn’t realize how lonely I was, until I saw you sitting there in that diner, fighting a hunger you could never satisfy.

When he says, It does feel great, don’t it? That turn of phrase turns the statement into a question. I think it needs a question mark, but if you intentionally want it the other way, that’s cool.

Her hunger was worse than ever. Her body [shook] was shaking with [an] overwhelming urge to bite into flesh.

If you keep the ending a little less direct, I think it really works.

Five: My Notes Upon Reading the Third Draft

(I’ll share the link to the final / third (or is it fourth?) draft at the end.)

You’ve come so far, and you’re almost ready.

She’d been so desperate to not [to] stay home on a Saturday night, she’d accepted an invitation to eat out that was offered out of pity. She’d drifted away from her childhood friends over the years, yet kept hanging on, begging for their scraps, hoping something would change, somehow.

Here, we have a repeated use of she’d which we need to tone down. Using it to start two sentences and an additional phrase within that first sentence is too much.

The second note is a split infinitive, but split infinitives are acceptable now. It’s not the crime our English teacher’s made us believe, and while I’ve taught myself to be comfortable with the phrasing “not to stay home,” you might not be. If you want to keep the split infinitive, keep it.

Sally, Jenny and Mary-Sue. They were all thin and pretty and looked great in the latest fashions. Each of them had a boy seated next to them. Becky She was sitting alone in the corner of the booth.

Becky is not the subject of the rest of the paragraph, so you can’t reference her with a pronoun without causing confusion over who you mean.

“You need to get some food in you. You need a lift?.” He inclined his head towards a Harley Davidson parked a few feet away.

We can avoid the repetition of starting both sentences in the dialog with you because the you can be left understood, without being written.

Only it’s not just the you. The need is also a problem. Change one.

Some possibilities:

You’ve got to get some food in you. / You gotta get some food in you.

-or-

Want a lift? / Wanna lift? (Depending on how he should speak)

(Also remember to remove the extra period.)

She struggled to come up with the right thing to say to get him to leave her alone without making him mad. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and she couldn’t think properly.

Here the repetition is the string of prepositional phrases all beginning with to.

Instead of “the right thing to say” she can struggle to come up with the right words, so he’d leave her alone…

But now we’ve changed the sentence so the ending “without making him mad” don’t have the logical link you’d created. You can choose to change the phrasing, but the phrase can also be assumed. I’d cut the phrase and end with leave her alone.

“Woah, you okay there.”

That’s a question. Give it a question mark.

“All right,” she agreed.

Style choice: you do what seems right for you. I’d leave off the speech tag. It feels redundant.

She felt something else. Hunger hit her senseless. Her whole body ached with it. It was no longer burgers and chips she was craving.

Did you mean hunger hit her senses or that hunger hit her and left her senseless? Either way, I’d cut the word. It’s confusing.

You have two uses of the word it back to back. You can cut the first usage with losing any meaning. That’s also why I recommended cutting “her senseless” instead of just “senseless,” because otherwise, you have the same word, back to back.

Those are my final recommendations. When you’re ready to publish, send me the links to the various versions! Well done.

Six: The Final Story

I’ve offered notes on a few stories before but never in stages. This approach allowed me to address the necessary points without overwhelming the author, and I hope that, in the end, both she and you are pleased with the results.

I love what she did with the story, and I’m honored to have played a role.

Read the final version here.

— Thaddeus Thomas