[stylist] stylist Digest, Vol 72, Issue 22

[Kerry Thompson]

Joe, RE: Chapter 0

I've done some editing. See what you think. I agree with those who have commented that you need more dialogue tags.

***

	Christian always knew the fraternity would come calling one day.  He wasn't sure how they would make contact.  Perhaps a mysterious letter would appear in the mailbox.  Maybe he would open his e-mail inbox to discover a message from an unidentified sender. But given their obsession with secrecy, it was more likely that someone would simply appear at the front door. However it came, the contact would mean trouble.
	They chose the telephone.  Christian never would have guessed the fraternity would gamble with a non-secure line, but he had been right to assume that when they did reconnect with him, it would come as a total surprise no matter how much he thought he'd prepared for the inevitable encounter.  On the morning the call came through he was deeply immersed in the first chapter of his latest novel.  The idea had come to him, as so many of them did, without forethought, and by the time he'd seen his family out the door, the kernel of an idea had swelled into the makings of a promising plot.
	He snapped a glance at the caller ID, saw that it was an unidentified caller and dismissed it as a telemarketer.  In his feverish state of mind he only wanted to be left alone to concentrate on the story unfurling under his fingers.
	"Mr. Adams,” the voice said from the answering machine’s speaker, “this is Don speaking.
	Christian froze, fingers hovering over the laptop keyboard, eyes slowly moving to the machine. He knew that clipped British accent.
	"I trust you are well.  It has been some time since we've spoken, and I am sure there is much catching up for us to do."
	The energy left Christian in a stomach-turning lurch.  He slumped in his seat, eyes riveted to the machine.
	"Mr. Adams, it is important that we speak at your earliest convenience.  If you are listening to me now, it would be preferable that you pick up the phone so that we may discuss the matter.  This is most urgent."
	Christian pondered for a moment.  He could ignore the call, pretend he was not home.  Then a memory of the man's ice blue glare surfaced.  That penetrating stare had always troubled Christian.  Now it was almost as though the man were in the room, daring him to be foolish.  He slowly reached out for the receiver, willing his voice to sound calm and collected.  This was a fine morning after all, and there was no need to be afraid of a mere voice at the other end of the line.
	"Hello," he croaked.
	"Ah, good.  I see you are home after all."
	"Wha, what do you want?"
	"Come now, Mr. Adams that is no way to greet an old friend."
	"We are not friends."
	"So you are still a bit sore about that old business.  I dare say it has been far too long for you to hold a grudge."
	"You're unbelievable."
	"Alas, it would appear time may not heel all wounds after all.  So, let me get to the purpose of my call."
	Christian's hand tightened around the receiver.  He had never cared for the man's false joviality, but he was sure it would be far preferable to the blow that was no doubt coming.
	"One of your brothers has met with an unfortunate...accident."
	"I have no brothers."
	"I'm sorry.  I thought we were through being coy.  Biologically, yes, you are correct, but of course you know full well I was referring to the brotherhood in the fraternity."
	"I left the fraternity."
	"You never left the fraternity," the man sighed as though exercising immense patience with a stubborn child.  "You may never leave the fraternity.  You were well aware of this at your induction."
	"I was told I could--"
	"You were told you could what," the man interrupted, no longer bothering with pleasantries, "just leave and pretend your membership and allegiance never existed?"
	Christian's eyes strayed to the family photo hanging over the fireplace.  In the picture his son Kevin was a newborn cradled in the arms of a smiling Carolyn.  Posing for the photo, he had felt that his life had truly taken a turn for the better, that his past would fade into distant memory.  Now, despite the fear still raking his stomach, he almost grinned at his own stupidity.  Had he truly believed he could just get away?
	"One of the brothers and his wife have met with an untimely death. They had a son, Theodore, who has been left behind with no suitable guardians.  The High Council has met and decided your family would be best suited to assume responsibility for the young man."
	"I beg your pardon?"
	Christian was torn.  On the one hand he could not have felt more relieved.  He had been certain the request would be far more despicable. Exactly what he thought they might ask of him he could not imagine, but on the other hand, what was this business about taking care of a boy?
	"What part of it did you not comprehend, Mr. Adams?"
	Christian sat forward.  "You want me just to take in a boy I've never met?  From a group of people I haven't even spoken to in more than eighteen years?"
	"In a word, yes.  Do you foresee a problem with that?"
	"Do I foresee a problem with that?"  Christian was appalled. "You're damn right I foresee a problem with that.  I think you're crazy to call me up this way."
	"I'm sorry."  The man's sarcasm told Christian he was anything but. "Should we have rolled out the announcement in a red carpet for you?  You have an obligation to the fraternity.  For years now you have been allowed to go about your business despite the concerns of several of the brothers. Your respite is over.  Taking care of the son of one of your brethren should be an honor to you, especially since worthier members would have been all too glad for the privilege."
	"I am sorry for the boy's loss," Christian hissed.  "But you can't just call me and expect me to be overjoyed at the thought of being coerced into taking in a child from a family I never even met."
	"Coercion," the man mused, savoring the word.  "That is not quite how I view it, but you are right to assume that you do not really have a choice in the matter.  The boy will be coming to your home in approximately three months.  This should give you ample time to prepare for his arrival."
	"And if I refuse?"
	"Let us hope you will never need to find out."

***

Joe, you should be aware - everyone should be aware - that putting your work on a public web site constitutes publication. Since it has been "published," no editor will touch it except those few who accept reprints.

This is not nitpicking or splitting hairs; it is what professional writers have told me.

There are ways of putting work on the Internet and yet not having that work on publicly accessible sites. For instance, you can create a private blog which only selected, invited people can read. Perhaps you should look into something of the kind.

As to labels and warnings, I myself find them helpful. Some people might not want to read a piece containing violence or might appreciate being forewarned about the content. Similarly, some people might not be interested in reading a Mystery, a Romance or a Western. Accurate and considerate labeling in such a case would help save everyone time and frustration. It seems to me that this is not a matter of censorship or totalitarian tactics, but rather consideration of others.

Naturally, there is a sense in which this  whole discussion is moot. As several people have pointed out, we as a group must conform to the overall NFBNET rules if we want to continue using an NFBNET listserv. But, regardless of what the rules may be, common courtesy ought to guide us all. It is only courteous when posting a piece of work to give a general discription. Is it fiction, nonfiction or poetry? What genre, Science Fiction, Adventure, True Crime etc., does it belong to? Does it contain violence or graphic sex or large amounts of gratuitous obscenity? Does it draw on specialized knowledge, such as understanding of sailing and nautical matters or computer programming? The reader has a right to know what she/he is in for.

And on the subject of consideration: When replying to messages on the listserv, please occasionally edit. I get the daily digest, and I need to scroll through screen after screen of e-mail chains and screen after screen of end of Stylist notices. The digest that I'm replying to right now was so long that it crashed both my browsers...several times. So please occasionally shorten the e-mail chains. Thanks.

Solidarity and Peace,
Kerry