When the inevitable happens, we throw up a random OPEN CRITIQUE DAY for you aspiring and established authors... all are welcome! You post a short excerpt OR idea that you want input on and we tear it apart, make you cry, and sadly watch you stomp away....
OR....
We give you loving advice, you still cry, but you still love us. All in a day's work, darlings! :)
Some of you know the drill.
Some don't, so here's a fun, quick explanation:
Today is a random day where you can post a short few paragraphs of your work and we are going to be BRUTALLY HONEST about what we think....
And you then can retreat to your room with a blankie and and a cup of hot chocolate...
Seekers allow a 24 hour WHINING rule. :)
You get to be mad for one day...
And then we pull up our big girl panties and move on. (Not kidding, Cupcakes.... you get a day.)
Okay, we're not really mean. Well, Ruthy is KINDA mean, but she really wants your success so she'll tell you it's for your own good. This may or may not be true.
But when you look at the wealth of experience and published books here on this blog, you know you've got a bunch of gals who not only know what they're talking about... they love helping others.
So be big and brave and bold!
Get your short piece ready and post it in a comment....
LET'S PLAY!!!!
We've got coffee and tea and hot chocolate and a cooler of Cokes (which means any soda imaginable for you Southern gals!) and there's a full breakfast bar of great healthy stuff....
And then there's a breakfast bar of Twinkies and Oreos and great cherry desserts.
And if you've never had Ruthy's cherry pie, well.... you'll love it. And she's picking up a 40 lb. box of IQF tart cherries on Saturday morning, so let the cherry desserts begin!
And we have a couple of book surprises we're giving away today, so free critiques...
And books.
It's been a long winter, but we are on a roll for 2019!
So get your stuff ready, it's that random moment of fun with the red pen you've all been waiting for! Use the comment section below to give us a paragraph or two of your work.
Let's see what ya' got.
So take that as a warning or a dare, your choice because she's a born in the north Yankee and kind of proud of it...
Don't say you haven't been warned! :)
Book giveaways are ANYONE'S GUESS, darlings....
We'll see what's in the prize vault! And any Seekers who are around today may/will jump in and offer advice. Let's do this!
It's the last day of July, so I'll do a Christmas in July giveaway of a copy of my debut, Christmas in Hiding, if anyone has a Christmas scene to submit.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun idea, Cate!!
DeleteOh I wish I had time.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you can come back later, Kathy!
DeleteThank you so much for doing this! This is the opening for a Middle Grade book:
ReplyDeleteI should accept news better. Learn to stand there and take it. But if the news comes with all the force of a locomotive, what then? Sure as the mosquito bites, if a locomotive bears down, a gal doesn't stand on the tracks doing nothing.
She runs.
Running, I’ve discovered, has drawbacks. For one, you never want to stop, even when your legs turn to jelly. Worse, running gives a false sense of control. You can change your scenery and that’s all. What you want to change—hurt, rejection, loss—it’s out of your hands.
Samantha, I love YA! And I love this opening! It made me smile. I love this character already just in that short bit. Nice work!
DeleteSamantha, your opening hooked me! I'd love to see the next few paragraphs if you have time to post them. Actually, your opening could fit in the adult word as well. I'm eager to find you why she's running. What happened?
DeleteThank you both for the kind feedback! Made my day that much brighter. :0)
DeleteMiss Debby, her uncle told her he's moving away. Things escalated quick with her hot temper. Thanks so much for the interest. Here are the next paragraphs:
I didn’t stop. Sometimes I had to do something, even if it didn’t make sense. And crashing headlong into woods made not a lick of sense. Tree branches and brambles reached out and snagged my ponytail, my clothes, my boots. They tore into my exposed skin as I plowed on. My sides cramped. My lungs breathed fire. Maybe this physical pain would numb the ache inside and silence the voice in my head.
*He’s leaving. He doesn’t care about you anymore.*
Doggone it. The voice was still kicking, but I’d about spent my fuel. I slowed to a shaky trot. Six steps later, I collapsed in a bed of pine needles. A ball of pricks bit into the seat of my jeans. After yanking out the offending pinecone, I hurled it into next week.
Uncle Bill had always said I had a good arm. He’d taught me how to pitch. Taught me how to do most things. What would I do without him?
Hey Samantha, Thanks for submitting this. I teach MG, so I was intrigued. I definitely want to know what she's running from, so your hook worked!
DeleteHi, Samantha! First, I LOVE THIS. I love the tone and the wording, the whole thing.... I will say it sounds too adult for middle grade (which here is 5th and 6th grade) but on the other hand, I like writing "up" for kids. And I seriously, seriously love this. Great opening, I HAVE NOTHING TO PICK APART, YOU BRAT!!!!!
DeleteSamantha, I love the additional paragraphs as well! I wish you all the best with your fantastic story!
DeleteThank you so much, ladies!
DeleteAnd brat or no, I'm still piling my plate with cherry desserts. ;)
I haven't posted on critique day for a while. I think I'm ready, so here goes. And thanks in advance for any comments! Have a great day, ladies :)
ReplyDeleteGrabbing his hand with her damp one, she moved it up and down once, exaggerated. “Hi. I’m Bridget Reeves—uh, Summerfield—and I’ve just paid a large sum of money that I couldn’t afford for the most embarrassing moment I’ve had since seventh grade gym class. Don’t even ask. But if you stick around a little longer, maybe some toilet paper will miraculously show up on my shoe and the new skirt I bought will get caught in my underwear.”
Did she just say the word ‘underwear’ to a perfect stranger? Seriously, who was the woman who had commandeered her mouth?
Not surprisingly, Stuart lowered his arm and took a step back. She’d finally scared him. “Ok. I just thought maybe we could talk about it but you ran off.”
“Shouldn’t I? This has all the makings of either a cheesy rom-com or a slasher flick. Although it’s usually teenagers that are stupid enough to end up getting slashed.”
“That’s true. You’re not a teenager.”
She sucked in air through her teeth. “You’re not helping your case.” Her eyes narrowed and she deliberately looked him up and down. “Not that you’re a spring chicken yourself.” His hair was short enough that if it was thinning at all, it hid well. But the scruff of two-day-old beard held a few silver strands in the otherwise medium brown color. She might have caught a few silvers right above the temple too. Not unattractive, if that mattered. Which it didn’t. “Is this why you’re here as a single? Because you insult women as soon as you meet them?”
He didn’t seem embarrassed by the gaffe and for some reason that just made her a little angrier. “No. I’m here because my boss sent me. He has known Liliya and Roger for decades, so they took me on as their little project.” He narrowed his eyes mockingly at her, looking her up and down. “Are you single because you’re abrasive and loud?”
She folded in on herself. Was he flirting with her? She was completely out of practice, so she might be wrong. Or was that truth coming out? Did he see really ‘abrasive’ and was that better than the frumpy, mousy woman she usually felt like?
She might as well see this conversation through. Pretending confidence she didn’t feel, she answered him. “Although it is none of your business, I am single because I am divorced. I am traveling alone by my own choice.” The crack in her voice on the last word may have betrayed her, but she jutted her chin up, defying him to ask any other stupid questions.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.” He paused and put his back out. “Can we start over? I’m Stuart. I’d like to be your traveling companion this week, if you’ll let me. Nothing more than someone to sit with on the bus and to make up the numbers at dinner. I promise to keep my hands to myself and no more prying. Deal?”
Bridget eyed his hand suspiciously, pausing to consider it. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I have to stay because it’s my job. And being the seventh wheel doesn’t sound like fun. And I don’t think they’ll give you your money back after you yelled at them like that, so you might as well stick it out.” The tiny smile she saw at the corners of his mouth indicated that was a joke. “What do you have to lose?”
She’d never had the chance to be impulsive before. Hadn’t she dreamed of a little adventure? She took his hand again, pumping and smiling. He did have a nice smile. “You’ve got a deal.”
Glynis, this made me laugh. Cute opening! I was a little confused in the beginning, though, so you might want to consider throwing in just a sentence/thought here and there so the reader knows what the situation is. I'm still not exactly certain what type trip this is. And I wonder if maybe showing the yelling she did, that he teases her about, might help explain it?? (Or maybe you didn't show that because it might make your main character look bad to open with that. Then again, if you motivate it well, the reader might sympathize with her and love it.)
DeleteI hope that makes sense! I just felt a little confused, as if I'd missed something (like maybe this wasn't the beginning of the story).
Thanks for sharing! This sounds like a fun story! (I'm still laughing about her thinking, "Did I just say underwear to a stranger?" hahaha
Glynis, I'll add something to what Missy said that I learned recently.
DeleteNow, I don't know where this scene comes, so ignore me if the information is in the previous scene.
I attended Lisa Cron's workshop on creating scenes last week at RWA. One of the things she talked about was how too often authors dive into a scene because we're told to start with dialogue or action, but the result is we leave the reader confused. Her advice - and these words are sticking with me - make sure it's on the page.
Don't assume the reader will figure it out because you don't want to make them work for it and lose the story thread.
But you have me intrigued. I want to know what happens next, and that's key!
Glynis, you've got great chemistry going with your hero and heroine, but I agree with Missy and Cate. The reader needs to know what they've both signed up for...I'm thinking a seven-day tour for singles.
DeleteDovetailing with Cate's comment, I use the word anchor, in that we need to anchor our readers at the beginning of the story and, indeed, at the onset of each scene as well. Let the reader know where the scene takes place and what's happening.
You could include an intro line before the hand pumping...Bridget Reeves never expected to sign up for a seven-day tour with a busload of singles she's never met before. Nor did she expect the first guy she ran into to be...whatever. Just anchor us a bit.
And do come back and tell us what's happening. I'm intrigued!
Let me add, that you're a good writer. :)
I posted this as I was running out there door this morning, so you're right, I should have set up the scene. This is not the beginning of the story and it's not really even the first meeting of these two. But you got it from the context that they end up being a "couple" on a couples tour.
DeleteThanks for all the encouragement, ladies!
I had a feeling it wasn't the beginning. Thanks for sharing it, Glynis. I would definitely want to read more.
DeleteI love that these lovely ladies covered it perfectly, but let me add my smiles, Glynis! This was fun!
DeleteOne piece of Ruthy advice. I think the back-and-forth reparte goes on too long to be effective. I'd shorten it slightly and mix it in wherever you'd like in the book, because it's funny! But too much of a good thing seems like we're trying too hard.
The other thing is that I want to see her face when she says things like "...seventh grade gym class. Don't even ask." She deadpanned a look straight at him. "However, if you manage to stick around a little longer...." etc.
Giving the reader a visual reaction of one or the other or both helps th reader envision the scene effortlessly.
GREAT FUN IN THIS SCENE!!!!
Thanks so much, Cate, Debby, Misty, and Ruthy. I am so appreciative of your feedback and the time you take to help us improve. I've learned so much from all of you!
DeleteI wasn't sure I was going to do this...then I thought, "Sure, why not?" But I didn't know what scene to use! I have some favorites from the novel I just finished (and which is in the hands of two of my sisters, one for editing, one just for reading). I didn't want to pick a scene that gives away too much, so settled on this one between the hero (Coop) and his youngest brother (Sean). Hope it isn't too long!
ReplyDeleteBackground: They are at a cookout at their parents' house--for employees (and their families) of the treehouse and woodworking business Coop and his dad own.
Coop carried food inside and his mom tucked it into the big fridge. He caught sight of Sean in the den off the kitchen and walked in to join him, wondering why he was hiding out. Scraggly beard and all. He really wondered about his youngest brother sometimes, but the kid held a 4.0 GPA.
"I like her," Sean said without preface. He'd arrived late to the cookout, had eaten by himself when everyone else was done and had sat and people-watched. His favorite pastime.
Coop sank into a deep leather chair out of sight of anyone in the kitchen. "I do, too."
"But?"
He shrugged. "You know. Gina."
From an identical chair, Sean scoffed and leaned over his knees, his arms braced on his thighs, his fingers tangled as he fidgeted. "Oh, man, when are you doing to let that go? Don't throw away a chance for something good because of her. She was so wrong for you from the get-go."
Coop stared at him. "You thought that from early on?"
"Day One, bro. But you wouldn't have listened to me. I was what--15? I thought I knew it all and you didn't think I knew anything." Sean winked and rubbed his beard.
"Yeah, well, it didn't last long anyway."
"The Lord will judge her when it's her turn and she will have to answer for what she did to you in that restaurant."
"Thanks, man." Coop straightened in the chair and tugged at his sleeve.
"When are you going to give up those shirts? You make everyone around you hotter when you wear those things."
"When are you going to give up that ratty beard?"
Sean guffawed. "Graduation. No one will recognize me. And when my name is called, everyone in my department will just gasp and faint away." He shrugged, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Or else they won't give me my diploma because they'll think I'm an impostor."
Coop laughed. "In your dreams."
"But I'm serious, Coop. Those shirts?"
"Delaney doesn't--"
"She doesn't know?" Sean whispered in disbelief and Coop shook his head. "Wake up, Coop. She is nothing like snooty Gina was. If you want to date her, you're gonna have to tell her."
Coop just sat there, knowing his little brother was right, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject with Delaney. Whip off the long-sleeved shirt and say, "Here you were curious. This is what I've been hiding." He shook his head.
"You know you have to do it," Sean said as he stood. "Let's go play bocce and see just how well your girlfriend plays."
Melanie, I'm sorry you were left hanging so long. This is terrific. I love these two brothers and I definitely want to know more about what is going on with Delaney. ;)
DeleteYou did something that I still struggle with each book - you made their actions fit flawlessly with the dialogue. And it was appropriate action - not the constant She shrugged, he smiled, she turned away that I struggle to avoid!
Well done.
I am in total agreement with Cate, Melanie. This is such a good scene. My only concern is the time gone by.... If Sean was 15 when he started dating Gina, and "it didn't last long, anyway", then why is he still obsessing now, as a grown man? If Sean's graduating, then about six or seven years have passed, right? That weakens the hero slightly.... He can avoid women altogether, but to put things on hold once he's actually attracted seems slightly off.... I'd suggest having his reluctance more obvious earlier in the story and then having him acknowledge that he needs to tell her his secret... because then he's taking responsibility for the risk involved. Know what I mean? It's not a major change, but sometimes the minor adjustments are what make the story jump to life.
DeleteVery well done!
Ruthy, Coop was the one dating Gina, and Sean was only 15 at the time and didn't think Gina was good for him (but he was so young Coop wouldn't have listened to him).
DeleteMelanie, I'm really intrigued about this story! A great scene that really sucked me in. Nice work!
Wow, thank you, ladies! And, Missy, thank you for clarifying that it was Coop who had dated Gina. FYI, Coop is 9 years older than Sean (they have another brother in between them), so he was 24 when he dated Gina.
DeleteI like this scene, too, between the brothers. I have so many other favorites from this book (I don't think I've felt this way about any of the other novels I've written), but this one was fun--the little brother giving advice to the big brother. :)
I honestly thought someone would come back with "You need more description in this spot" or something. I have always, always struggled with description, whereas dialogue has always been my forte.
Coop has external and internal scars he is dealing with. Delaney has internal ones. And when she reveals hers to him, I cried--when writing the scene, when rereading it... This is a story that HAD to be written!
Thank you again! :)
Melanie, I love stories that make me cry while writing them! :)
DeleteGreat job, Melanie! Love the dialogue and the chemistry between the brothers. As Cate mentioned, your action is spot on! Good for you.
DeleteSo it's an actual scar he's hiding? I thought maybe a tatoo with his first girlfriend's name. A scar is more intriguing!
Thanks, Debby! (I am just now seeing this...)
DeleteYes, Coop is hiding scars from people, especially from people who don't know him well. To be honest, I don't believe he's the type to ever get a tattoo. :)
I just heard from my sister (the one who's editing). She hasn't finished reading the book yet (I asked her to read through one time before starting to edit), but woke up early this morning and read 4 more chapters. She wrote: "You have such talent. Your book thus far is even better than many romance novels I've read, and your writing is superb. I don't even come close. That's all I'm going to say for now so don't be concerned about what I think. It's perfect!!!"
While I don't agree about it being "perfect", and I know she has much talent on her own, AND she doesn't read as much as I do. her comments make me want to cry.
Once she's done editing, I will probably have a couple more people read it, then I will start looking for a publisher. It's too long for LI though (I'd have to cut 30,000 words! :o ), so I might have to get an agent...
Thank you, ladies, again for your feedback! I really appreciate it! Blessings...
Melanie, that's wonderful that your sister is loving the book! I wish you the best with publication!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteAn intense scene, Lee-Ann! Nice description (even including sounds!). I could really feel the longing. Could feel that she was still recovering from the diabetic event. Well done! Thanks for sharing.
DeleteLee-Ann, you've done a great job with this excerpt. Lots of tension. You pulled me in at the onset. Good for you!
Delete
ReplyDeleteWhat a difference a day makes. The sun is peeking through the edges of the windows, still boarded up from the storm. Quiet is all that can be heard, no birds, no dogs, no cars, just stillness. Kristy’s eyes flew open with a panic, “did I really fall asleep in a hurricane?” Stretching to wake up more fully from her slouched position in the hallway, she sends up a quick prayer, thanking God for seeing her through safely. “Come on Pete”, she calls to her shepherd, “let’s make sure we’re still standing then we need to go check on Miss Mabel.”
Carefully walking through the house, room by room, everything is still standing. Back downstairs Kristy pulls on her boots and rain slicker, grabs her pack with her medical supplies and heads out the door. The water was still knee deep, so walking was going to be challenging. Three houses down, she hears someone yelling.
“Kristy Cumberland where do you think you’re going? It’s not safe to be out in this.” Turning around she finds her neighbor, Blake Michaels, coming down the middle of the street in his fishing boat. Looking at his face, she knows she’s in for it. Blake motors up slowly, because with storms like this, slowly is all you can do to prevent water from rushing further into the houses. “Where are you going and why are you still here?”
Kristy doesn’t even try to look embarrassed, “Look here, Mr. Army, I’m doing the same thing you are, I’m making sure our neighbors are all ok. You know as well as I do that Miss Mabel won’t leave her house, no matter what, so that’s where I’m going. Are you just going to sit there or are you going to come with me?”
Great scene, Lisa! I feel as if you've been through this yourself to know what details to include--the light coming in around the wood, the silence. Nice description. I really like your character for wanting to check on neighbors. Thanks for sharing your excerpt!
DeleteI had so much fun reading through here today.
ReplyDeleteMary, I really enjoyed it, too!
DeleteI didn't get the email until early this morning (it said it was sent on August 1st at 2:07 am). :( Can I still participate in the critique day?
ReplyDeleteLila, add your excerpt and someone will stop by with a comment!
DeleteThank you! Here's my excerpt from a Biblical fiction about Judas Iscariot (I'm revising my rough draft right now, and my writing coach specifically mentioned adding more setting):
DeleteVery early in our ministry, Jesus sent us twelve disciples out for some street ministry. We were supposed to go to a town we'd never been to and begin preaching “the kingdom message.”
I had no problem proclaiming that the new Messiah's kingdom was coming soon. My passion for a place in this new kingdom gave me plenty of motivation to get dusty and tired with no preparation whatsoever.
The first thing I would do in this new kingdom would be to set up organization for our group.
For now, I chose to go to Ptolemais a town closer to Cilicia than I normally would like. And it wasn't mainly Jewish, like Jesus wanted us to stick to. But it was on the coast. I had always wanted to see the coast with my parents when I was young.
But I had also heard that this port city was very generous and liked to help the poor. I was sure I could persuade them to line my money bag.
I mean, it was technically Jesus' money bag. But I was in charge of knowing how much we had to spend and getting the best deals. The more money we could add, the better our lives.
Though Ptolemais was more than 40 miles from Capernaum, our base, I took the opportunity to catch a ride with a caravan of traders. All I had to do was promise to entertain them every night with stories, once they heard I was part of Jesus of Nazareth's entourage. They had heard many rumors about him and wanted me to set them straight.
As I was preaching through the town that first day, I noticed a lot of Roman soldiers. I didn't know if I would have any trouble with them. As long as I wasn't stirring up any actual rebellion or keeping people from their work for too long at once, I should be okay.
When I stopped talking to go to the well and ask for a drink, I noticed a graying woman wearing high-end clothing. Maybe I could ask her for a donation as well as a drink.
I approached her with my hands out, palms up, in the usual non-threatening stance. “Excuse me, ma'am, would you mind getting me a drink of water? I'm a stranger in your town.”
She sized me up with her dark eyes, the crows' feet around her eyes smoothing out a bit as she determined I was a man of integrity where women are concerned.
My mind flashed back to when my mother had told me that women, though under the authority of men, were special gifts from God.
I remembered her smile as she patted my shoulder. “Remember that though women are the weaker vessel in physical strength, we are the moral strength of Israel. Treat us with respect, and you will be a good man, Judas.”
The aging woman in front of me smiled and answered, “Of course, sir. Strangers are taken care of here.”
That smile looked so familiar. As she bent down to scoop the water into her jug, I saw the scars on the back of her arms, like that of a whip's impression. The memory of mother's fight to return to me and the whips grabbing her by the arms invaded my mind and quickened my heartbeat.
It couldn't be. “Mother?”
Very intriguing, Lila. So in your story Judas was separated from his mother? Does that provide the reason for his flaw and weakness for money?
DeleteBiblical fiction must be so difficult to write. Good for you! Keep working!
Yes, that's the backstory. His mother was taken and sold as a slave because his father couldn't pay his debts.
DeleteLila, I'm sorry your blogs are arriving late. I've tried everything to make them arrive on time, and thought I had it fixed. But they're still going out late as far as I can tell!
DeleteI'm with Debby that biblical fiction must be so difficult to write! But I love your idea here of Judas's backstory. Very intriguing. The only thing I might add is to maybe work some action into the passage of reflection once you get to the present (I realize some is summary). Could you disperse some of the thoughts into action as he's traveling to the well? But since I haven't read much biblical fiction, just ignore me if this doesn't fit the genre!
Thank you so much!
ReplyDeleteLydia Gibson paused at the top of the hill, working out the stitch in her side from the exertion of walking too fast. Rumors had whirred as noisily as the wooden shuttles, clacking back and forth on hastily repaired machinery. Rumors of soldiers preying on helpless women.
She should have stayed at home, she scolded herself. Her sense of duty had prevailed over fear. She had a job to keep as long as it was available. It was their only source of income.
Although the mill was running again, it hobbled along like an injured bird after the soldiers had paid their visit on Saturday. Like boys bent on mischief, they'd scattered cloth and thread across the floor, then ripped the belts from the machines to halt production. Shock had paralyzed the workers until the intruders left.
Relief was cautious; the enemy had arrived.
Now she'd possibly put herself and Millie in danger. She turned the corner and then quickly ducked back. Two soldiers loitered near her front door. Her open front door. Each of them held a burlap sack, evidently containing some foodstuff they'd foraged from the residents on one of their frequent raids.
Before she could think what to do, one of the men yelled toward the open door. "C'mon, Harris, we don't have time to dally with the girls."
A third soldier staggered out of her house, holding a kerchief to his nose, dangling a near-empty sack in the other hand. Lydia gasped audibly, but the sound went unheeded as his companions snorted with laughter.
"Serves you right, Private. You'll learn not all women are swayed by your superior handsomeness."
The younger man muttered something in reply as they turned away and tramped down the road. Lydia released the breath she'd been holding, waiting until they reached the next street before she left the shadows that shielded her from their sight.
Running on shaky legs, she made her way up the steps and halted at the entrance. "Millie? Millie, are you all right?"
Her blond step-daughter ran to her, weeping. "Oh, Lydia, that awful soldier! Did you see him? Am I in trouble for hitting him? What will they do to me?"
"Ssh, I don't think you're in trouble." She stroked the girl's blond hair that rippled nearly to her waist.
Millie pulled back from Lydia's shoulder. "How can you be sure? Did you talk to him?"
"No, I--his buddies yelled for him to come on before I could tell what was happening. When he came out with a bloody nose--I guess that's why he had a cloth to his face?"
Millie nodded guiltily. "I hit him when he tried to grab me. He said..." She sniffled as the tears started again.
"Never mind that now. What I saw was his buddies laughing at him and saying that was as good as he deserved. So I don't think you're in trouble. He's probably too embarrassed to tell anyone a girl hit him, especially one he was trying to sweeten up."
Millie laughed in disgust. "Don't know why he'd even try since my condition is obvious now. I can't get into any of my dresses but this one. Guess we're gonna have to let out the seams in the others." She patted the thickening at her waist.
Lydia sighed inwardly and pushed away the thought of walloping the young man who had weaseled his way into Millie's bed. Evidently life was as hard for a pretty girl as it was for a plain one. One had to ward off the men while the other could barely get them to notice her. Millie's bright hair and perfect complexion drew all eyes her way. Lydia often felt like a little brown wren next to a beautiful tropical bird when she was with Millie, especially since the girl had blossomed in the last couple of years.
"Now go wash your face and let's see what we can find for supper."
She watched Millie pad into the kitchen, absently placing a hand at her lower back. Was she spreading in the rear? Didn't that mean a girl? Oh, dear God, what are going to do with a baby?
Silver Curls, this was such a great scene! It really drew me into the time period. And I was also drawn in with the suspense and worry over the woman in the house. This was a great setup to make me want to read the rest of the story! Nice work.
DeleteSilver, this is so, so good! You've pulled me in from the onset and I'm enthralled. Is this a WWII historical? Or some other occupied country perhaps? Please say you're moving forward and will be submitting it soon. This needs to be published.
DeleteCongrats! Great job! Lovely writing!
Thanks so much, Missy and Debby, for your kind words and encouragement . I am thrilled that you found it worthy of publication. I've written 35000 words and hope to have it ready to submit soon. The time period is late Civil War, based on a true story. You all are my real heroines. =)
DeleteI was a bit off with the time period but was certainly hooked by your delightful prose! If the excerpt begins your story, you might want to clue readers into the time period. Just a phrase will do that takes them to the Civil War period. I actually thought the soldier, who I thought was WWII, was acting much more humane than would have been the case with the Nazis. But your Civil War soldier is spot on!
DeleteKeep writing. This story will find a publishing home!