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Here's a scene toward the beginning of my WIP. Corinne is the new owner of a rundown ski lodge in town and that's just been revealed at the diner where Marsha is the owner. I'm hoping this small town of Sunflower Ridge has a feel of a Star's Hollow or a Mitford--if that's not too lofty a goal. Thanks for any critiques!
ReplyDeleteMarsha’s announcement stopped the diner’s conversation again. Corinne looked around slowly, not moving her shoulders, just tilting her head left, then right. Who was watching? Was everyone waiting for her to say something?
The bite of strawberry rhubarb she was just putting in her mouth sat at the end of her spoon, mid-air. So she closed her mouth and swallowed. “Um, thanks. Marsha, is it? Yes, I did buy the Lodge so I guess that makes me the newest resident of this little town.” Shoot. Did that sound patronizing? Do small-town residents not like being reminded that they are small-town residents? She looked around again. Lots of faces, of all ages, still staring at her. She wasn’t sure what she should expect now. Cheers? Applause? Indifference?
Corinne lifted the fork holding the pie up to her lips again. The flaky crust was starting to lose its shape, ready to escape back onto the plate, so she hurriedly scooped it into her mouth, making sure to get every last crumb.
Marsha looked expectantly at her.
The strawberries exploded in a burst of berry sweetness and the tart aftertaste of rhubarb was a perfect compliment. This was by far the most amazing pie she’d ever eaten. A buttery crust that melted on her tongue topped of the perfect first bite. Now her own eyes widened and she stared at Marsha.
“He was right! That is the most unbelievable pie I’ve ever had!”
Marsha clapped her hands together once. “Well, then your first piece is on the house!” She quickly wiped her hand on the half apron covering her jeans and stuck her hand out. “Marsha Mayfield. Nice to meet you—” Her voice trailed off and her eyebrows arched.
“Corinne. Corinne Darrow.” Corinne put down her fork and shook Marsha’s hand. “I can guarantee this won’t be my last piece of pie here, I’m sure.” She let go and put her hand on her hair to smooth it down. “I just rolled into town, so please let me make a better first impression later.”
“Oh, honey. No need.” She waved her hand and made a noise with her mouth. “We’re just so happy someone finally bought that place. It’s been an eye sore for too many years to count. Isn’t that right, Gus?”
A man in his 60s wearing red plaid flannel and a purple Vikings hat turned around in his seat. He squinted and sort of looked her up and down. Not in a creepy-old-man kind of way, but more intellectually. Like he needed to test what she was made of.
“Yes, Marsha, I heard. I’m sitting right here.” He said it with no emotion and didn’t even look at Marsha when he said it. He kept his eyes on Corinne the whole time.
She squared her shoulders again and hopped off the stool. Obviously, his opinion carried weight. She didn’t know how she knew. She just did. This was the man she needed to impress. She wouldn’t pat her hair down. She wouldn’t try to unwrinkle her clothes. She was confident she knew what she was doing.
Wasn’t she?
Gus’ chair was only two steps from the counter where she’d been sitting. She leaned over, sticking out her hand. “Gus. I’m Corinne. Nice to meet you.”
He looked at her, still squinting slightly, she could tell, through his bifocals. After what was a long pause, he picked up his napkin and wiped his hands. Then his big grip encased hers and he smiled.
“Gus Mayfield. Glad to have you here.”
Again, something triggered the conversation in the place to begin again. Was there someone in the corner with a cue card that she hadn’t noticed? Chairs scraped on the tiles and silverware was set on the tables, as people from all over the diner got up to meet her.
Hands and names came at her from all directions. She would never remember them all, but maybe it didn’t matter at this point.
What did matter was that everyone seemed happy to have her here.
I remember this story, Glynis. Of course, you know what I'm thinking right now. I want strawberry rhubarb pie!
DeleteBut about this snippet from your story. I like the way you built up the tension. It's always challenging when you're the new kid in town (no matter how old you are) and even worse when it's a small town. So Corinne's thoughts are spot on. Perhaps show a little more of her relief when Gus welcomes her. Because after all that tension, she's bound to be breathing a huge sigh of relief.
I love this, Glynis... and yes, you've nailed the feel! I'd make eyesore one word.... and I'd get rid of the "who was watching" and make it more inclusive like "everyone was watching" because she can see them and it feels more immediate to me... but I'd call the rest golden!
DeleteReading your excerpt brought tears to my eyes. Really! I could see it all play out. No! Actually I was there, holding my breath!
DeleteVery, very nice, Glynis!
Two thumbs up, Glynis! :-)
DeleteOh, ladies, thank you so much for taking the time and your words of encouragement are exactly what I needed to hear today. Thank you!
DeleteThis is the beginning of my first draft. I think its a little weak and would love to know how to strengthen it:
ReplyDeleteTwo days. Two more days is all that’s left between me and my dream job. I can hardly believe it.
“I told Julie we had it under control.” Cheyenne said pulling your hair back in a ponytail getting ready to work.
“We don’t have it figured out. “ I turned told her.
“Remi, I have it figured out. You worry too much." Cheyenne put her hand on her hip and scanned the big, open room.
She has it figured out? I thought we were doing this together. I wanted to say that I wanted have input too and I didn’t have everything on my end figured out, but the words just don't come out. Every time I try to speak up it’s like a hand is placed my mouth to stop me from saying anything.
“So, what are you doing then?" I asked Cheyenne feeling ashamed that all I did was ask what her ideas were.
“Showcasing art, silly.”
“Right, But we have to figure out where to put everything." I said as I looked across the empty white walls.
Since I was a girl I dreamed of seeing my art in galleries as well as owning my own gallery but my dream never included having to put up canvases myself. I never spent time thinking about where I would place paintings. Four empty walls suddenly seem scary.
Maybe it’s not because they’re empty. It’s because I know my future rides on how everything is set up. It’s me or Cheyenne. One of us gets a job as junior curator and the other gets sent out the door to find another job. Very few of which would include art.
I can't keep thinking about it. I tell myself and snap back to the present moment.
"I think we should put the biggest painting down here, by itself. It'll draw attention through the entire room." I told Cheyenne hoping it was valuable input.
Cheyenne stared at me blankly before I heard the door clink open and Cheyenne glanced to the back.
"That's such a great idea." Cheyenne's tone changed two octaves.
"I don't see much progress." Julie walked up to us.
"We were-" I started.
"I was pointing out to Remi that we should start with the biggest paintings first. Put them in places that will draw people's attention through the room. She agrees. don't you, Remi."
“Yeah.” The hand across my mouth grasped tighter.
“I hope you pick up your speed.” Julia crossed her arms.
“I was thinking we would gather some props first.” I spoke up. I have input in this too.
Tonya, I feel Remi's pain. It's hard to make your mark. The opening is a little slow, though. What if you moved her GMC and what's at stake closer to the beginning? Yes, it's her dream job, but why is it important to her? Why this particular job? Obviously Cheyenne is part of the conflict, but try moving up the part about Remi's future riding on it and that only one of them will get the job. That immediately ups the stakes and makes the reader want to see Remi fight for her dream. Remember, you want to grab the reader's attention and bond them to the character as quickly as possible. Think about what will make them want to keep reading. And keep writing this story because I want to know what happens.
DeleteThank you, Mindy! I could tell it was a bit dull but I haven't known how to fix it! Thank you for the ideas.
DeleteTonya, this reminds me of the beginning of a Hallmark movie! And I love Hallmark movies! Two gals vying for one job. Great conflict. Keep moving forward. Once words are in place, you can rework the dialogue and fine-tune the story.
DeleteGood job!
Mindy, I agree... the pace is kind of slow so it doesn't grab the reader right off. And Tonya, there are a few mechanical problems. The opening sentence is a great example. "I told Julie we had it under control." Cheyenne said, pulling......
DeleteYou can do this two ways:
"I told Julie we had this under control." Cheyenne drew her hair up into a quick ponytail.
OR:
"I told Julie we had this under control," Cheyenne said as she drew her hair up into a quick ponytail.
Mechanics are a simple fix, but I think we can fix the pacing by having Julie walk in first.
She walks in, Remi is embarrassed that they haven't gotten things done.
Start with the stress of the moment, and have Cheyenne steal her idea... and her heart is crushed right off.
And then build from there. That way the reader sympathizes with her from the beginning, right?
Debby, I love Hallmark movies, too! Maybe I'm absorbing them ��
DeleteRuthy, thank you for all the advice. I see what you are saying and am taking notes!
DeleteThis is a covid hair care flash fiction
ReplyDeleteHolly set the box of hair dye down and picked up her phone and set the timer. "It says to leave it on for twenty minutes."
"Twenty minutes to warm, honey blonde highlights and making the best of quarantine." Cassie smiled while sitting with her head wrapped in Saran Wrap.
"It’s faster than going to a salon. A lot cheaper, too." Holly jumped up on the edge of the counter as they waited.
"It's not the same experience, though," Cassie told her. "Where's the hum of blow dryers in the background, the smells, and the fun of talking to the hairdresser."
"It'll happen when things open up again. The results are the same, though.”
"It's not the same. They make the colors perfect at the salon. They layer lights and darks. It's a skill, you know."
"It’s lightening it a lot.“ Holly stood and looked around Cassie's head before glancing at her phone. "You still have twelve minutes."
"Oh good. It's doing its job. It’ll help the doldrums of being home in this virus lockdown every day."
"If you say so. I've never dyed my hair so I don't know what it should look like while processing. It’s a lot of upkeep." Holly jumped back up on the counter.
"But so worth it when you see the golden tones."
"It's looking lighter than gold. Does the color become white before rinsing?"
"It’s supposed to be lighter than what it'll actually turn out. The chemicals they use and all."
The timer beeped and they both pop up to rinse the highlighting formula from Cassie's hair.
Holly held the water hose over Cassie's head as the water washed away the highlighting solution. The colors slid into the bottom of the tub and revealed a bleached white color.
Holly shrieked after she shut the water off. "It's super blonde."
"It’s going to look so good.” Cassie squealed squeezing the excess water out.
"You can decide when you look in the mirror."
Cassie flipped her head up, grabbed a comb, and walked to the mirror.
Cassie squeaked. "It's white!"
"I know,” Holly said pacing the bathroom floor.
"And look at my skin. It's brought out all this pink." Cassie combed her hair faster and faster as if trying to look for spots with better color.
"I don't know what happened. I did exactly what the box said."
"What am I going to do?" Cassie wailed.
"Can you try to rinse it out more?" Holy threw up her hands.
"I doubt that'll do anything. I need to re-dye it."
"So put a mask on and go get a box of hair dye," Holly responded. "Put a hat on, too."
Cassie and Holly rushed in and out of the store to get a box with a darker shade of hair dye. They got home and we're back to where they were a few hours earlier, hoping for better results.
"Here goes nothing," Holly said when the timer went off.
"I'm nervous," Cassie said leaning over the sink.
A few minutes later Cassie took the towel off of her head and started combing out more light brown locks.
"It looks a little flat and monotone," Cassie said.
"It's way better than before," Holly added. "Maybe salons are better at this stuff."
"Note to self: even in quarantine, I should never highlight my hair myself."
Oh, the lengths we will go to in the name of vanity, right, Savannah? I can so picture this scene between two friends. I think one thing that's missing, though, is Cassie's internal dialog. Everything is spoken, but what is it she's not saying? Even in flash fiction we need to see some emotion so we can bond with the character and understand how she's feeling. I think a little bit of that will go a long way.
DeleteI was chuckling all the way through this! Your humor is nicely dry and it comes through in your dialogue! But I agree with Mindy - you could use a little more narrative and internal dialogue to really drive home the humor in the situation.
DeleteI bet this happened to a number of ladies during the COVID shutdown! :)
DeleteThe lead character has to change and grow, even in a short story, so perhaps add something about where she's at in life and her struggles, which goes along with Mindy's comment about adding emotion so we can understand what she's feeling.
Keep writing!
“I saw Ryan at the book store the other day,” Lucy said before sipping her soda. “He said he's back for a couple of months.”
ReplyDelete“Really.” Paige dipped one of her french fries in ketchup. “I’m surprised he moved away in the first place. He was always content here.”
“That changed after you,”Lucy said.
“I did what I thought was best.” Paige looked down. “It hurt me to break up with him, too.”
“The job in Chicago was a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“I asked him to come, you know,” Paige said. “He wasn't ready to leave and said he didn't think he ever would.”
Lucy's face jumped in surprise. “You should've said something.”
“It was easier to act like I made the decision to break it off.” Paige glanced out the window in thought.
“It still hurts, doesn't it?”
“Not every day but when I see others getting engaged or enjoying time together, I remember I once had that.”
“It doesn't mean you'll never have that.”
“But I haven't found it.”
“There is no blueprint for getting married, Paige. I haven't found anyone either.”
“True. I spend so much time working, I rarely meet new people.” Paige looked down at her hands.
“It’s time to put an effort into getting out and meeting people.”
Paige set her fork down. “It's easier said than done. I always end up comparing guys to Ryan.”
“There are other good guys out there. If you don't look past Ryan you'll never find someone else. You could even find someone better.”
Paige fiddled around while looking as though she was ready to bolt.
“Maybe I'll stop by and catch up with Ryan. So many things have changed since I left.”
“Paige,”Lucy said.
“What are the chances that we're both back in town at the same time.”
“But he-“
“Maybe it's a sign.” Paige's voice held a hint of hope.
“I don't know how to say this but,”Lucy paused. “Ryan's engaged.”
Paige's body stiffened as she sat in silence.
“know that's not what you wanted to hear.” Lucy looked on.
“I would've found out one way or another.” Paige’s voice became monotone.
“It may be hard to reconcile now but it's all the more reason to get out there and get to know someone else.”
“Someday.”Paige answered.
“You need to take some time to grieve this. Fully. I don't know if you ever did, but you need to. Eat some ice cream and pamper yourself. I'll be right next to you the entire time.”
“I guess I gave him permission to do that when I left. I never moved on.”
Lucy reached across the table touched Paige's arm.
“Now, I know it's over.” Paige stood up. “Might as well get moving. There's a new day out that door.”
You've got some good dialog here, Felicity. There's nothing like a friend who isn't afraid to call us out. Since the scene is pretty much comprised of dialog and matter-of-fact actions, though, it doesn't really give the reader an opportunity to bond with Paige. For starters, we're not seeing what's going on in her heart and mind. We all have conversations with ourselves in our minds and we need to see Paige's conversation with herself to get a better feel for her. This will also help us understand her GMC. What is her goal when this scene opens? What does she want in the big scope of the story? Why does she want it? And then what's stopping her from achieving that goal? Adding those elements will really strengthen this scene. Which I can totally see taking place in a Hallmark movie, btw. ;)
DeleteIm so flattered you think its Hallmark-like! Thank you, Mindy! Is there a way to add inner dialogue in 3rd person?
DeleteDefinitely, Felicity. It's very common. It's those thoughts that go through the POV character's head or how they process something. You know, those thoughts we think to ourselves, but might not verbalize. Does that make sense?
DeleteSo, I make it clear Paige is the POV character. Then, add thoughts in throughout? Do I need italics or say "Paige thought"?
DeleteFelicity, since I'm a visual person, here's an example from one of my books.
DeleteAs they continued on, Wes turned his attention to Laurel. “Does having me around bother you? I mean, things were so easy between us in Vegas. Now you seem…tense.”
Last week at this time she’d been just fine, but now… “I’m the same person I’ve always been, but I’m a mother now, and I have to protect Sarah-Jane.”
“You think I pose a threat to her?”
Laurel’s steps slowed as they came to the open area atop the bluff that overlooked the river and the rolling hills that surrounded Bliss. She might not like conflict, but all of this tiptoeing around, torn between wanting Sarah-Jane to know her father and fearing he’d eventually reject her the way Laurel’s father had done with her, was eating her up. She needed to just get everything out in the open.
Me again. Most of that last paragraph is internal. It's what's going on in her head. What she's battling, yet isn't necessarily going to vocalize to the hero. Does that help?
The only times you would use italics is if it's a direct thought, such as, I CAN'T LET YOU DO THAT. Only the person is telling themselves that, not verbalizing it. And there's generally no need to say "they thought." If so, do it sparingly.
Felicity, you have a good opening here. It makes me want to see the scene where she and Ryan meet up! I agree with Mindy, though, about adding in some thoughts from your main point of view character. I was a little unsure whose point of view we were in on occasion. As long as you add in some internal thoughts, that will be obvious. Pull at our heart strings and make us bond with your character. :)
DeleteNice work!
At my alma mater, they used to have shared mailboxes. In my story, the hero is in college and has accidentally picked up someone else's package. He discovers that the intended recipient (the heroine) is in his class. This is his attempt to give the mail back without burning any bridges.
ReplyDeleteAfter the last bell rang, Henry quick-stepped over to Catherine’s seat, the package under his arm.
“Hey, Catherine—Cate!”
Her curly hair bounced over her shoulder as she turned to face him. He hadn’t noticed before, but she had beautiful brown eyes and a smile that made his heart stutter. “Hi, um…”
“Henry. Henry Mullins. I know we haven’t officially met yet, but you’re my— I mean, we share a mailbox.” He gave what he hoped was a disarmingly handsome smile.
She raised one eyebrow. “Oh? I had forgotten about that.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Henry.”
“Thanks, I hope so. I mean, you too.” Real smooth, Henry. He grimaced. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” He held out the box. “I accidentally picked up your mail.”
“What?”
He laughed. The whole thing was pretty ridiculous. “It was actually my friend Jason. We saw the slip and didn’t even think about checking to see—”
She took the package from him. “But it’s been opened.”
Henry leaned against the back of her chair. “Right, like I said, we—”
“And it looks like someone went through all the stuff inside.” She looked up at him, confusion and anger written all over her face.
“It’s so crazy. I didn’t realize at first that it wasn’t mine.”
“But my name is written all over the outside. And on the card. And I’m sure it was on the slip of paper from the post office.”
“Yes, you are totally right, and I’m so sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair and gave another of his patented Henry smiles. “I guess I didn’t read any of those things. I mean, I read the card—”
“You read my card?”
“Sure, that’s how—” Henry stopped suddenly when he saw the look on Cate’s face. She was no longer confused. She was flat out angry. Did this girl have absolutely no sense of humor? How could he possibly get himself out of this mess? “Don’t get upset.”
“Okay. So, you neglected to read the notice from the post office.” She ticked off each point on her fingers. “You somehow conned the mail room into giving you my package. You opened the box and rifled through my things. And you read the card which was written to me.”
“Wow. When you put it that way—” Henry shrugged. “I’m really sorry. It was an honest mistake”
“There’s nothing honest about this whole thing.” She shook her head. “I hope mail fraud won’t be a regular occurrence with you.”
“No, I will be much more careful in the future. Promise.” He held up his hand.
“I certainly hope so.” She tucked her syllabus inside a folder and stacked her folder and notebook on the box.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” Henry moved her chair out of the way so she could exit the aisle.
“I guess so.” She marched off.
“Bye, Cate.” Henry couldn’t tell if she heard him. Probably not, since she didn’t turn or say anything back to him.
This is good, Sarah. Yet while I can tell he's nervous, I'm not getting a good feel for why it's so important to Henry that Cate not get upset. Does he like this girl or is he simply afraid he might get into trouble for opening her mail? I also thought Cate let him off too easily. One second she's ticking off the things he could get in trouble for and telling him there's nothing honest about what he did, yet she readily accepted his apology. Perhaps she could string it out a bit longer. You know, make him squirm. I'm not sure where you're going with this, if he's wanting to date her or not, but he could even offer to do something for her to atone for his mistake. If she is the love interest, that could be catalyst to bring them together.
DeleteThank you! It's really helpful to know how this comes across to someone else. In my head, Cate's tone of voice is very angry and she does not at all accept his apology. And my reason for having him want to be friends is because he will be sharing a mailbox with her for four years. I will add some more explanation to make those things clear.
DeleteI really like your idea of him trying to do something to make up for his mistake!
Sarah, good dialogue! And I'm feeling his pain. Actually, the heroine seemed a bit full of herself, but then, I don't know what the box contained. Or who had sent the card and box. And I would definitely keep reading to find out how their relationship develops. A cute way to bring them together at the beginning of your story.
DeleteVery nice!
Sarah, I like how you've changed this from the last time you shared it! This is great to just throw together the hero and heroine. This definitely feels more like it's going to be a romance. Nice changes!
DeleteI wonder if Henry might get a little aggravated by the end of the conversation where she's getting snippy with him?? I don't know his character enough to know. If's he's normally laid back or a peacemaker, then this is probably totally in character. Just a thought. :)
Thank you, Debby and Missy!
DeleteArden Gray picked her path along the North Carolina shore. Morning claimed the sky and an eerie mist hugging the water’s edge. Sleep had won the game of hide and seek, refusing even the briefest escape from the image of her freshly minted divorce decree. Surrendering, she headed for the beach, each nerve on high alert, uncertain of her future.
ReplyDeleteIt didn't matter that it had been over a year since she'd laid eyes on her now ex-husband and even longer since she had felt like a wife. The hollow sense of failure still sat low in her belly.
She dodged the driftwood and debris that had washed ashore during last night’s storm. Lightening had flashed through her window and pelting rain had kept her tossing and turning. But in all honesty, she would have been tossing and turning even without nature’s outburst. The angry display outside had made her feel small and alone.
Arden had the beach to herself except for a single runner coming towards her, but she could only make out a neon orange hat. Not even the early bird treasure seekers with their squawking metal detectors were out and about.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, Arden stumbled. She paused because something wasn’t right. Then she detected a weak, choking cough. Cough? Lack of sleep had finally pushed her over the edge. But wait. There it was again.
She glanced back and frowned. Spying the lifeless outline of an animal, she rushed back and dropped to her knees. “Oh, baby! What has happened to you?”
Her eyes scanned the beach, hunting for this poor dog’s owner without success. She found no evidence of any injury. The helpless pup was lying there, too weak to move, but its half-lidded gaze was able to move toward her. How was it possible for two small brown eyes to reach out and grab her in such a vise-like grip?
“I’m right here. I’ll get you help.” She gathered up the gasping dog, cradling it as she stood. What should she do? Her mind raced but nothing came to mind. “Please, Lord, help me!”
Trying to run through the sand, she stumbled, but arms appeared from nowhere to steady her. Startled, she cried out and clutched the dog tightly to her chest.
“Let me see. I’m a vet.”
Arden identified the runner from the mist and instinctively protected the weak animal against her body. But this was no time to insist on credentials, so she had to believe God in His kindness had sent her a veterinarian angel wearing an orange hat.
Denise, nice job. You've pulled me into the story! A hurt pup always tugs at my heart. Plus I loved the opening that reveals the heroine's pain, and the hero vet's arrival has me wanting to read more! Keep writing!
DeleteWow! I love this! You've got a really nice writing voice, very atmospheric and descriptive!
DeleteI would only have some minor tweaks. Lightening means 'getting lighter' while lightning means thunderbolts. :)
Read this aloud to check for the same words used close together, (example: The helpless pup was lying there, too weak to move, but its half-lidded gaze was able to move toward her.) Change one of the uses of the word 'move' to keep from repeating yourself.
I'd remove the word 'tightly' from "Startled, she cried out and clutched the dog tightly to her chest." because clutched already describe what she's doing without the need for the adverb.
Lovely writing, Denise! Well done!
I'm hooked, Denise. I can't wait to see what transpires between Arden and the vet. Way to have them meet right away. Dogs and kids are always good at bringing people together. I can see it now... He can fix a wounded animal but is Arden's heart beyond repair. :D Well done.
DeleteDenise, what a solid start! Your word use in the opening paragraphs is stellar. It totally grabbed me. I think you could strengthen the dog scene by letting the reader know that it's not a human or a baby or even a dog a little sooner.
DeleteIf it's a puppy, I'd use pup or puppy. You want the reader to follow the events but more so to follow the emotion of the events. That's crucial...
And you made my eyebrows pucker when she had to think about what to do. She sounds like a smart gal... sick dog needs a vet, right? So if there's a reason she hesitates, like lack of cash, totally understandable, but I would have her thinking that ASAP because it makes sense...
And I wouldn't have her stumble... and him protect or save her. That's a personal opinion but it's kind of cliche and your writing is strong enough for you to branch out and take a chance. Be strong. Make her strong.
The other thing was I'd make it clear that she knew/felt her marriage was over, and it's okay to have regrets, of course! But I'd show that her sadness was the finality of signing the papers, or maybe not realizing how that would strike her.
But through it all, keep her strong, Denise!
Thank you ladies, so very much! I appreciate the encouraging words but I'm especially thankful for your suggestions. This was so helpful!
DeleteI hope I'm not too late for the party! This scene is where the heroine is trying to escape the villain after he has kidnapped her. They are riding on horseback in the dark. I like the scene but feel like it's missing something.
ReplyDeleteShe needed to fight. She couldn’t make this easy for Jeb. But how could she slow him down? It wouldn’t have to be for long. Just enough time for Josiah to catch up. And he would catch up to them. He was already searching for her. She felt it. Please hurry, Josiah.
She looked around. Moon beams shown through the trees. She could escape into those woods. Stay in the shadows. It would be just like hiding in the meadow. She could hold off Jeb until Josiah came.
How could she get off the horse? Jeb wasn’t exactly a small man. She couldn’t just push him off. But the horse could.
Taking a deep breath, she turned and brought her right elbow back as hard as she could. It collided with Jeb’s nose.
Surprised, Jeb pulled back on the reins and the horse halted. Its front legs came up. Jeb lost his grip on the reins and started to fall. He reached in front of him and grabbed Laura.
Unable to hold on to the horn of the saddle while the horse reared, Laura went down with Jeb.
She landed with a thud. She needed to get up. This was her only chance to get away. Against her body’s wishes, she rolled to her side and scrambled to her feet.
She dashed into the woods. Jeb’s yelling and cursing faded behind her.
Don’t stop. Keep going.
Sticking to the shadows of the trees, she made her way deeper into the woods. Taking a chance, she glanced behind her. That was a mistake. Her foot hit a branch and she went falling.
Oomph.
As she sat up, she brushed the dirt away from her face. Then she heard it.
Footsteps. And they were coming fast.
She crawled next to a big oak tree and waited.
The footsteps were getting louder.
“I know you’re here. You’re only making this harder for yourself. Give it up.” The footsteps stopped next to the tree Laura hid behind.
She covered her mouth with her hands to quiet her breathing. An owl hooted in the darkness. An oak log groaned as if someone was stepping on it.
He was coming around the tree and would soon be on top of her. Goosebumps ran up her arm.
She closed her eyes and pushed her body farther into the side of trunk of the tree. She could only hope her jade green dress would help blend her into the rough terrain.
Lord, please don’t let him see me.
She held her breath, waited, and listened.
Gosh, Kimberly, this is good, but I agree... I think we need a touch more at a couple of places to put it over the top. But I repeat, it is good as written!
DeleteI'd suggest starting in the Deep POV folks talk about, first person, so we feel her terror....
Don't make this easy for him.
The mental warning came sharp like the night chill bathing her face.
This is your chance. Maybe your only chance. No time to think. Time to act. If you want to live, that is. Don't make this easy for him.
The words pierced her fear. If she fear guide her, she'd never make it back alive. Better to make fear her puppet. Not her master.
Then I'd have her make her move and do the "hurry up, Josiah" in her head when she's fleeing for her life. This puts her in charge of the actions and makes her a stronger heroine.
She knows the odds... but if she doesn't buy time, she knows the ending.
Well, well done!
Kimberly, this is really good. You said you feel like something is missing, but it may not be that it's missing, just how it's presented. Show us the action instead of telling us. Instead of "She looked around," try something like, "Her gaze skimmed the moon beams hanging above the trees." And then when she's in the woods is when you can really put us in her shoes. Instead of "Sticking to the shadows of the trees, she made her way deeper into the woods. Taking a chance, she glanced behind her. That was a mistake. Her foot hit a branch and she went falling," simplify it and let the reader go with her. "Her racing heart propelled her deeper into the woods. She dared a glance behind her until her foot hit something. Air rushed out of her as she hit the ground." Okay, not great, but you get my drift. "She could hear his footsteps" as opposed to "The footsteps were getting louder." There's a lot in there that you could easily tweak that would really put us into her head and have our hearts racing, too. ;)
DeleteKimberly this is pretty good. I was definitely caught by it. I'm trying to think of how to make it better but right now I'm stumped.
ReplyDeleteMaybe add a few more senses and they are in there, but just more. It collided with Jeb's nose with a loud whack.
Have Jeb roar. Have her scream when she'd falling. ... the thud is there. The yelling and cursing faded behind her. The owl
Can you add her fighting for silence as soon as she gets into the woods. The horse whinnying, hooves pounding as it ran away....
Like that.
It's a good scene!
Thank you ladies! You have given me some great ideas and I can't wait to dissect this scene.
ReplyDeleteI love that all three of us jumped in within five minutes. Laughing!
DeleteKimberly, you've got the bones of a good scene here, lots of tension, lots of action, lots at stake.
DeleteI would suggest slowing it down. Build that tension more slowly, adding visceral reactions, physical sensations and senses. The scene as it is written is very 'telling' where you want to be 'showing.' Writing that tells rather than shows reads more like a newspaper article, if that makes sense? Writing that shows rather than tells has the goal of creating an emotional experience for the reader, of drawing them into the story so they are living it with the character rather than hearing about the character.
In this short excerpt, count how many times you use the word 'she.' She did this, she did that, she thought this, she felt that. This is a good indicator that you're telling the reader what's happening rather than letting the reader experience what's happening through the senses and actions of the heroine.
Example: Footsteps. And they were coming fast.
She crawled next to a big oak tree and waited.
The footsteps were getting louder.
Try slowing it down, adding in details, physical reactions, emotions, senses.
Leaves stirred, and a branch snapped under a heavy boot. Jeb stomped through the underbrush, not even trying to disguise his approach. Each footfall proclaimed his fury.
What would he do if he caught her again?
Her fingers dug into the rough bark of a tree as she knelt in the dirt. The solid bulk of the massive trunk did little to comfort her, but it was better than standing in the open. The cold smell of loamy earth and decaying leaves saturated her clothes.
Run or continue to hide? It was too late to choose.
The crashing footsteps thundered nearer. Her muscles ached with the tension of staying still, and she feared he would hear the roaring of her heart in her ears. Sweat prickled across her shoulders in spite of the chill air as her eyes strained in the darkness to pick up any movement.
Put the reader right into the scene, make them feel what the heroine is feeling, make their heart beat faster right along with hers. Make the reader agonize of what comes next, and make them wait a bit to find out. It will keep them turning pages and living each scene.
Thank you, Erica! I will have to try that trick with my other scenes too. I know I tend to tell more than show.
DeleteKimberly, you've done a good job. Chase scenes are hard, and sometimes less is more. Shorter sentences. White space. Add that visceral info mentioned above. Keep reworking this passage. You'll be pleased with the result! High intensity scenes need to fine-tuned time and again. I doubt anyone writes them perfectly the first time. Good prose comes in the rewriting phase...at least, that's what I find to be true.
DeleteSo sorry I missed this opportunity.
ReplyDelete