[stylist] The heart of it: chapter 1.

Tue Oct 6 03:40:58 UTC 2009

Actually, Jim, the descriptive stuff is something I knew, instinctively, I 
needed to work on.  I knew as I was writing it that mentioning her hair 
color alone wasn't enough.

Thanks for the input.

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "James H. "Jim" Canaday M.A. N6YR" <n6yr at sunflower.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, October 05, 2009 10:14 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] The heart of it: chapter 1.

> Alan,
> I haven't read the update or other comments so this might be a set of 
> superfluous comments.
> first, sometimes I felt that some sentences would be strengthened with 
> more direct expression, fewer words.  however, I also noted a very nice 
> cadence to the writing in three or four places that relied on the 
> particular wording.
> since the topic is emotions and emotional, I did want a bit more physical 
> texture and a bit more active emotional description.
> the chapter does a very good job of realistically  representing how a 
> couple can love each other and not communicate.  I did wonder about how 
> the road led to this situation but perhaps that's in following chapters.
> maybe I'm just expressing personal preferances but I'd have liked a little 
> more description of both of their appearances.  what did he find first 
> attractive about her, way back at the beginning of their relationship?  is 
> their atire formal, suit and tie and women's suit?  or is he in a t-shirt 
> and she's in jeans cutoffs?
> I like the details about what they're reading.
> good writing Alan.
> jc
> Jim Canaday M.A.
> Lawrence, KS
>
> At 09:20 AM 10/5/2009, you wrote:
>>Hi everyone,
>>This is the first chapter in the story  I was seeking so much advice 
>>about.  Let me know what you think of it as a start.
>>
>>Alan
>>
>>The heart of it
>>
>>By: Alan Wheeler
>>
>>
>>
>>chapter one
>>
>>Heart Break
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>BUMP!!
>>
>>Michael looked up from his section of the Sunday paper as he and Anna sat 
>>in the front of the first class section of the airplane. The jolt of 
>>turbulence brought Michael back to his distracted thoughts. He and Anna 
>>weren't moving, no real "turbulence" for them,  they were stagnating, 
>>standing still, and it was driving him mad.
>>
>>
>>
>>Oh, they loved each other, that wasn't the problem.  It was communicating; 
>>communicating their love for each other to each other, communicating 
>>without putting the other on the defensive all the time.  Those were the 
>>problem areas for them and they both knew it.  Yet, neither Michael or 
>>Anna took steps to remedy the problem.  It had become like that proverbial 
>>elephant in the living room that no one speaks of, but rather walks a wide 
>>circle around, simply to avoid it.
>>
>>
>>
>>Michael had hoped their trip to South America would nudge them out of this 
>>routine, cause them to break down barriers, but it didn't happen that way. 
>>No change occurred at all, in fact.
>>
>>
>>
>>He looked over at her as she read her Stephen King novel, and his heart 
>>seemed to stutter in his chest, as beating every other beat.  He loved her 
>>so much, and yet felt so far away.  It hurt him; hurt him deep.  He caught 
>>her looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and the look on her face 
>>told him in no uncertain terms she was thinking about the very same 
>>things.  He saw the love in her eyes, but he also saw a seemingly 
>>bottomless sadness and loneliness there, too.
>>
>>
>>
>>He wanted to throw down his newspaper, tell her just how deeply he loved 
>>her and demand she say what she was thinking.  It was futile, though.  It 
>>was futile because Michael knew that he would balk if she made the same 
>>demand of him.  He had tried to open up, tried to get past the barriers he 
>>felt between them, but it was like body-slamming a brick wall.  All he 
>>could bring himself to do was brush a lock of her long, black hair out of 
>>her face.  It was a gesture of affection, to him, anyway, but she just 
>>vaguely glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and continued to 
>>read.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>***
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>Anna felt Michael's hand brush the loose lock of hair.  She really did 
>>love him.  He was like no man she had ever known, let alone loved.  Yet, 
>>for her it seemed like her head was extroverted and her heart introverted. 
>>She could talk with him about their work in South America, the impact that 
>>work would have back in the states, and do so for hours.
>>
>>
>>
>>On the other hand, though, ask her to express her love for him, and it as 
>>if she were pathologically shy, or mute or something like that.
>>
>>
>>
>>Ask her to talk about some way, big or small in which Michael may have 
>>hurt her, even just with a unintended sleight, and her emotional throat 
>>closed up and her voice was, in a manner of speaking, gone.
>>
>>
>>
>>She hated herself for it but she kept waiting on Michael to be the one to 
>>open up. She knew she should take the first step since it seemed Michael 
>>never would.  Unfortunately, she seemed too mired in it all to take that 
>>step.  She recalled how she once thought being a better housewife would 
>>tilt  the balance, and cause them to open up to each other.  But, it was 
>>like the lyric she had heard in a song by the band Wilco says, "keeping 
>>things clean doesn't change anything."
>>
>>
>>
>>They both sat, mutely gazing at each other, suddenly and for no apparent 
>>reason, and silently knew something had to break, and both wondered if it 
>>ever would.
>>
>>
>>
>>***
>>
>>
>>
>>Suddenly, for Michael, something did.  It had nothing whatsoever to do 
>>with their relationship.  It was pain, starting from the left side of his 
>>chest and slowly radiating down his arm.  For the love of everything holy, 
>>was he having a heart attack?  Here?  On this airplane?  He squeezed 
>>Anna's hand, almost violently.  His eyes registered her shock and horror 
>>as she realized something was wrong, then everything faded to black, just 
>>like a TV show or movie.
>>
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