[stylist] chapter one

Jewel S. herekittykat2 at gmail.com
Mon May 24 15:52:16 UTC 2010


I found this revision much easier to follow, and very enjoyable. The
opening line was quite appealing, and really caught my attention this
time.

Also, I saw you added phrases like "Jennifer stammered." These
interjectories (right word?) are great, and it helped with the flow.
Toward the end, you seemed to have less of these, but you used the
name of the person being talked to (Randy) to show us who was
speaking, since those were the only two in the room. Be careful in
future chapters to keep who's saying what followable. Keep up the good
work, and it should be just fine!

I loved this chapter, and it really has me wanting to read more. A
great revision!

~Jewel

On 5/23/10, Judith Bron <jbron at optonline.net> wrote:
> Hi guys, I redid chapter one using a lot of the suggestions you suggested.
> I would appreciate your feedback.  Judith
>
> CHAPTER ONE
>
>
>
> The last thing Jennifer Rabinowitz remembered was a stranger's voice
> yelling, "Watch out!"  The oncoming car struck her causing the young girl to
> fly into the air like a spinning top and land flat on her back on the busy
> Curtis Cove Street.  She remembered standing outside her body as the
> emergency medical technicians worked frantically to save her life. Randy,
> her best friend and captain of their high school football team, ran to get
> Sheila, Jennifer's foster mother.
>
> Jennifer gazed around this strange place.  Where was she?  Behind her was a
> busy street, and in front of her a dark corridor faintly lit with rows of
> what appeared to be flickering candles.
>
> Jennifer felt enshrouded by the protection of pure love.  This was a totally
> strange sensation.  Never in her life had she felt so secure.  She heard a
> voice say, "I'm here, Jennifer.  I love you."
>
> "M..Mommy?" Jennifer stammered.  "But you're dead!"
>
> "No one is dead," her mother reassured her.  "Go back.  It's not your time."
>
> "Go back to what?" Jennifer challenged.  "To a foster family?  To a town
> that mocks me, mocks my name, and all that I want to be?  Why?"
>
> "You have lessons to learn," her mother returned.
>
> "What lessons?  What can life teach me?"
>
> "To live.  To love.  To hope.  To know who you are--and what you are!"
>
> "I love you mommy.  You're the only one who can love me!  No one here ..."
>
> At the word "here," Jennifer slammed back into her body, aware of intense
> pain and completely disoriented.
>
> This place smelled of disinfectant.  What was she doing in this sterile
> environment lying on a hospital bed with needles poking her and Sheila
> leaning over her?  Her hand instinctively reached to pull the needles from
> her arm.
>
> Sheila's hand covered hers.  "Jennifer.  Are you there?  Jennifer!  Come
> back."
>
> Jennifer tried focusing on this strange place.  "Where's Randy?" Somehow she
> knew he should be there.
>
> "I sent him to the football field.  He has that important game today.  He
> didn't want to go until the doctor said you'd be all right."
>
> "I was dead," Jennifer stated.  "I was dead, but Mommy sent me back."
>
> "You had a dream," Sheila responded quickly.  "We thought we'd lost you."
>
> A handsome man in Doctor's whites nudged Sheila away.  "Are you back with
> us, Jennifer?  What do you remember?"
>
> Jennifer thought about the question.  He couldn't mean her meeting with
> Mommy.  No.  He'd think she had a dream, the way Sheila did.
>
> "Jennifer!  Stay with me!"
>
> "A car," Jennifer said.  "Was I hit?  Am I badly hurt?"
>
> " Mostly bruised,  I think.  You tell me."
>
> Jennifer repositioned herself on the bed.  " I don't think anything's
> broken."
>
> "Quite right.  What day is it?"
>
> The day?  Jennifer tried to focus.  "Oh!  Saturday!  I have to get back to
> my sewing machine!  I'm making outfits for Mrs. Nelson's twins," she added
> to chase away the doctor's raised eyebrow.  "I'm quite good.  I plan to
> design clothing when I finish high school."
>
> "Ah, I see."
>
> He turned to Sheila.  "Your daughter will be fine, Mrs. Rabinowitz."
>
> "I'm Mrs. Hamilton.  Jennifer is my foster daughter."
>
> Jennifer allowed her thoughts to return to that dark corridor and all
> inclusive feeling of love.  A feeling she never had before.  Sheila did her
> best, but she could never give her the same love as her real mother.
> Whatever love was.  Jennifer had only a hazy idea of what that concept
> meant.  At this point in her life she didn't feel capable of giving or
> receiving that special emotion.
>
> When Randy returned from the game Jennifer smiled weakly at him.  "Hi,
> Randy.  How did it go?"
>
> "I'll tell you after you tell me how you feel."
>
> In a frail voice Jennifer answered.  "I feel weak and sore.  I remember you
> running up to me."
>
> "Sure I did.  We lost the game.  I missed a touchdown pass."
>
> "I'm sorry, Randy.  I know how much that trophy means to you."
>
> "Right now I'm more worried about you than the trophy."
>
> Sheila said, "I have to get going.  Cindy has plans for the evening and Ted
> has to work.  I'll send Ted up with your things."  She kissed Jennifer and
> headed for the parking lot.
>
> On her way to the car Sheila thought about the little book with an inserted
> paper delivered a few months earlier by a strange man.  He had said, "Mrs.
> Hamilton, I'm a lawyer representing a family that perished in the holocaust.
>  This little packet containing a small book and paper were given to me to
> deliver to you for Jennifer Rabinowitz.  They are left by her parents.  It
> should be presented to her on her seventeenth birthday.  Please don't tell
> Jennifer or your husband about this meeting.  A good day to you."  The man
> left the house and she ran to the front window to watch him drive away.  But
> no car appeared on the driveway or street.  There was no man walking away
> from the house.  Totally spooked, she ran to her bedroom without looking at
> the little packet and placed it with other papers in her dresser.
>
> A few days later her curiosity got the better of her and she opened it.  The
> material was written in a foreign language with non-English characters.
> Sheila couldn't read it and doubted Jennifer could read it either.  Now
> Jennifer had survived what should have been a catastrophic accident.  Did
> that book and paper have anything to do with Jennifer's survival?  She sure
> wished she could hand the packet to Jennifer rather than waiting two months.
>  She couldn't wait until it was out of her possession.  But she was so
> freaked about everything that she dared not disregard the wishes of the
> messenger.  She opened her car door and slid in.
>
> A white haired doctor, different than the one Jennifer had seen earlier,
> entered the room.  "Hello, Jennifer.  I'm Doctor Green and I'll be handling
> your case.  Is there anything I can do for you?"
>
> "Can you take these needles out of my arm?"
>
> "I want to keep the fluids going until tomorrow morning.  I'll evaluate you
> then.  What else can I do for you?"
>
> "Can I take a shower and have something to drink?"
>
> "The nurse will help you with a shower in the morning and I'll send someone
> in with some juice.  See you tomorrow."
>
> After he left Randy asked, "How do you feel now?"
>
> "I nearly died, but other than that fine."
>
> Randy laughed. "Can I ask you a serious question?"
>
> "Sure.  But please forgive me if I'm not in the mood to answer it."  She
> sounded so fragile.
>
> "What will it take for you to go out with me?"
>
> Extreme weakness punctuated her speech.  "Randy, there's a lot going on in
> my head.  I need time to straighten it all out.  Right now you're the best
> friend I have in the world.  Just keep on being my friend.  That's the best
> thing you can do for me."
>
> In a sympathetic voice Randy continued. "I know others give you a hard time
> about your last name.  Is that part of the problem?"
>
> Jennifer opened the juice container a nurse laid on her table.  "That's a
> big part.  I don't know who I am.  You guys know your parents, what they
> expect from you and people to turn to when you need answers to important
> questions.  I haven't had that since I was two.
>
> "I also have my career in clothing design to think about.  I guess that's my
> identity for now.  But how can you create an identity out of a spool of
> thread, a piece of cloth and sewing notions?  I need more than that.  I need
> to explore this Jewish thing.  I guess my parents were Jewish.  How else
> would I end up with a name like Rabinowitz?  At the moment I don't know
> where to begin my search."
>
> "If there's anything I can do to help you just ask."
>
> "Randy, do I have all kinds of bruises on my face?"
>
> Randy smiled.  "You look like the most beautiful girl in the world who got
> into a fight and almost lost."
>
> "I guess I didn't lose.  When I get up my courage I'll look in the mirror."
>
> "You're looking tired.  I'll be back tomorrow morning."
>
> "Good night, Randy.  You're the best friend anyone could have.  Thanks for
> being here."
>
> Jennifer closed her eyes hoping to make contact with her mother again.  But
> there was no loving voice, no hope, no purpose.  Only predictable blackness.
>  Her mother told her that she had to live, love, hope and know who she was.
> But where could she learn about all these things that other kids knew from
> the minute they were born?  She felt aware of her physical pain and an
> emptiness inside.  "Come back to me, Mommy.  I need you."
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