[stylist] {Spam?} Re: Novel excerpt

Alyssa Frierson alyssafrierson at gmail.com
Thu Aug 18 03:17:53 UTC 2016


Hello,
Many thanks to all who've read/responded so far. This chapter is long.
See attached and pasted below.
Alyssa

Chapter Three
Olivia set the check down at Table Three and smiled at the man and
woman. "I'll just leave this here. You can take care of it whenever
you're ready. No rush, okay?"
"Thank you," the couple said in unison.
"Have a good rest of your day."
They thanked her again before she made her way to Table Four. This
afternoon, Table Four was occupied by a little girl in a tutu and an
older woman, maybe the girl's grandmother. Were ballerinas going to be
everywhere?
She walked up to the table and smiled. "Hi, my name's Olivia. I'll be
your server today. Can I start you out with something to drink?"
"Chocolate milk." The little girl said quickly.
"How do you ask?" Her grandmother admonished gently.
"Please?" The little girl looked up at her sweetly. She swung her legs
under the table. Olivia thought of herself at that age, maybe seven,
and how sometimes after a dance or voice lesson, she and her mom, and
sometimes Paige, would go out for lunch or an ice cream.
"Okay." She made a note on her pad and turned to the older woman. "For you?"
"Just water, please."
"all right. Do you need a minute, or are you ready to order?"
"I think we're ready. Maddie, you want to go first?"
Olivia took their orders and left to get their drinks.
"Grandma," the little girl said as Olivia put the tall glass of
chocolate milk in front of her a few minutes later. "she's the girl on
the paper in the window." She looked at Olivia. "Right?"
Olivia smiled and nodded. "Yep, that's me."
"You sing?" The older woman asked as Olivia set her water glass in front of her.
"Yeah, my sister and I have a show at Douglas's theatre down the
street. The owner of the diner let me put up our flyer. He was really
generous about it, and it's free publicity for us." Olivia smiled.
"Well, we'll have to try to see it while we're in the city."
"How long are you here for?"
"Until tomorrow afternoon. We just came from a childrens' showing at
the Ballet Theatre. Maddie's a dancer. But we don't have anything
really planned for tonight. Maybe we'll try to see you."
Olivia couldn't help grinning. "That would be wonderful. We're an
all-ages show." Someone from the table to her right spilled a glass,
and Olivia glanced over when she heard someone gasp and mumble
something as ice cubes skid across the smooth red and white tile
floor. "I'll bring your food out as soon as it's ready. Information's
on the flyer." She turned to help the people at the table with the
spilled drink.

"All right," Paige said into her microphone that night. "We're going
to try something. It's been a long time since we've done this, but
when we were like ten or eleven, we listened to Broadway cast albums
all the time, and, of course,  we sang along to them. So, one day I
was singing something, and Olivia interrupted with another song from a
totally different musical."
"And Paige interrupted me with another song, and it just kept going."
"And we're going to do that for you tonight. We can interrupt each
other at any time, but the catch is, all the songs have to be from
musicals. Ready, Liv?"
"Ready," Olivia said from where she sat at the piano.
They started singing "Consider Yourself" from "Oliver!" Olivia
repeated the last line of the refrain, stopped at "consider yourself,"
 and launched into the refrain of "Popular" from "Wicked." The
audience laughed. Paige broke in after Olivia had gotten a few lines
in with "You're the Top" from "Anything Goes." They kept trading off:
"Home" from "Beauty and the Beast," "My Funny Valentine" from "Babes
in Arms," "Nothing" from "A Chorus Line," "I Dreamed a Dream" from
"Les Miserables," "Tomorrow" from "Annie," the title song from "The
Sound of Music," and Olivia finished by belting "Maybe This Time" from
"Cabaret."
"More," someone shouted from the back of the room. The rest of the
audience cheered.
Olivia stood and bowed with Paige. She looked at her sister, and
nodded. Paige started singing "Gimme Gimme," the eleven o'clock number
from "Thoroughly Modern Millie," and Olivia interrupted with "Tonight"
from "West Side Story."
The audience cheered again as Olivia picked up her guitar and started
strumming the opening chords to the final song. The last song was
easy, and she and Paige were harmonizing perfectly. As the final chord
rang out, the audience cheered again. Olivia took Paige's hand and
bowed. She mouthed a song title to Paige, whose face lit up as she
nodded. It was hard to tell under the bright spotlights, but Olivia
thought she could see Mr. Douglas smiling and applauding at the back
of the room as Paige slid onto the piano bench for an encore. They'd
been playing at Mr. Douglas's almost every night for the last two and
a half weeks, and he made a deal with them: one show a night, six
nights a week for the next month, with the potential for full-time
employment.

Olivia smiled when she saw Maddie and her grandmother standing in line
at the table.
"You were really good," Maddie said, beaming. Her blond curls framed her face.
"Thank you. I'm glad you liked it."
"I should have given you a bigger tip earlier," Maddie's grandmother said.
Olivia laughed.
"You two really are good, and I hope you can stop working at that
diner and pursue music full time soon."
"Thank you. That means a lot."
"You're welcome. Maybe we'll try to catch your show again the next
time we're in the city." She adjusted the big purse on her shoulder.
"Where are you from?"
"Connecticut."
"How often do you get to make the trip?"
"Not often enough."
Olivia nodded.
"Well, we won't keep you. We just wanted to thank you for a wonderful show."
"And the chocolate milk earlier was really good," Maddie piped up.
Olivia laughed. "Well, thank you. I'll be sure to tell the cook. I'm
glad you enjoyed the show so much."
They waved, and Olivia straightened a stack of photos in front of her.
"Hi, Olivia." Nicki came up to her.
"Hi."
"Great show." Nicki smiled shyly.
"Thanks." The table moved and wobbled a little as she put her hand on it.
"Um, so, you like Opera?"
"Yeah, I like all kinds of music. It probably didn't fit into the rest
of the show, but we weren't planning on an encore, and Paige knew the
piano accompaniment. We'll have to come up with something
else--something that fits in a little more with the rest of the show."
"What is it from?"
"'Porgy and Bess.' There were a lot of jazz interpretations of
'Summertime,' but I've always loved the original operatic version."
"I've heard the Ella Fitzgerald version, but never the opera version.
I think you should keep it. Isn't the show about music that's
influenced you? Besides, it was beautiful." Nicki smiled again. Her
eyes lit up when she smiled, and she had a tiny gap between her bottom
front teeth.
"I'm glad you liked it. I'll think about keeping it. Ella's version is
great, too."
Nicki opened her mouth to say something else but stopped and fiddled
with the zipper pull on her bag.
"Sorry, but I should help Paige pack up everything. Mr. Douglas needs
the stage and table to be cleared by nine so the next act can set up."
"That's okay. I should go, anyway." She looked like she didn't want to leave.
"I'm glad you liked the show."
"See you."
"See you." Olivia waved as Nicki walked away slowly. What would it be
like to touch Nicki’s silky red curls? Or to put her arms around her
thin frame? Olivia pushed the thoughts away quickly and busied herself
with another audience member.

"Have a nice day," Olivia said as she left change at Table Two.
"You, too," one of the men said to her. His companion was busy with his wallet.
"Olivia, can you get Table Six if I put this customer there and take
my break," the hostess, whose name Olivia could never remember because
they worked together so rarely-Jana or Lana or Anna-asked.
"Sure." Olivia glanced at who JanaLanaAnna was taking to Table Six and smiled.
Olivia clicked her pen in time to the music playing over the speaker
system as she walked to the table. "Hey." She smiled at Nicki.
"Hi." Nicki smiled back. She wasn't looking at her menu; it sat folded
in front of her.
Someone loudly scraped back their chair as Olivia said, "Do you know
what you want, or..." She gestured to the menu.
“Sorry, what?"
She repeated her question and gestured to the menu again.
"Oh, sorry. I haven't had a chance to look. Can you give me a minute?"
She was wearing some kind of lip gloss, which made her lips look soft
and pink, and her arms and shoulders looked thin.
"Of course."
Olivia took more ketsup to Table Three and cleaned Table Two before
she went back to Nicki.
"Are you ready, or do you need more time?"
"I'm ready. I'd like the buffalo chicken sandwich, please."
 "Would you like blue cheese or ranch with that?"
“Ranch."
As she made a note on her pad, her hair fell over her right eye. She
tucked it behind her ear and looked up at Nicki again. "It comes with
lettuce, tomato, and pickles. Is all that okay?"
"Yes."
"What would you like for a side?"
"Um..." She looked at her menu again.
Olivia leaned closer to whisper,  "Get the fries." She winked at her.
She could smell Nicki’s shampoo or lotion or something—something
sweet.
"Okay. I'll have the fries."
Olivia smiled. "To drink?"
"Water, please."
"All right. Sorry. I should have asked you what you wanted to drink first."
"It's okay."
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Not right now. Thanks, Olivia."
"Of course."
Nicki held out her menu, and Olivia felt a current pass between them
again, just for a second. It was there, though, she knew it. It scared
her. She clutched the menu tightly. "I'll get that order in for you
and bring it out as soon as it's ready."
"Thanks." Nicki smiled again and moved the clasp on her necklace to
the back of her neck. Her hair was in a ponytail today, and she wore
the same big hoop earrings as she had the other night. She looked
beautiful. Don't look too long, Olivia told herself before she walked
away.

Later, Olivia sat with her legs curled under her on her green and
white flowered comforter. She picked up her guitar and thought about
Nicki, who had not only shown up at the diner a few hours earlier, but
had come to almost every show in the last week. Most nights, she
stopped by the table afterward and talked to Olivia--and only Olivia.
She had to admit, she was a little creeped out by it. Was this what it
was like to be famous, having the same person show up at your shows
and being the last one to leave? If it was, it confirmed what Olivia
knew-- she didn't really want to be famous. She was doing it for the
music, because it was all she knew to do, all she wanted. The music
was constantly inside her, even if she didn't always hear it in
everything like she used to. In spite of how often Nicki showed up,
and how weird it might be, Olivia still found herself thinking about
and attracted to Nicki. She pictured Nicki’s loose curls, the way they
fell effortlessly over her shoulders, Nicki’s sparkling eyes, the
splash of freckles on her nose, the cute tie-dyed bag she carried. She
wanted to get to know her. She couldn't figure out, though, if Nicki's
attraction to her was genuine. Or was it some kind of hero worship or
envy that kept Nicki coming back? Did Nicki want to be where Olivia
was-- with an act and a stage to sing on? But then, there was that
feeling that passed through her when Nicki handed her the photos the
other night and the menu this afternoon. She'd felt that kind of
electricity only one other time in her life.
Olivia absently picked the strings on her guitar, trying to come up
with something new.
"Are you ready," Paige called from the bathroom.
"Yeah."
Paige came out of the bathroom and walked the few feet to where Olivia
sat. "You're not even dressed!"
"Huh?" Olivia blinked and realized the sun was going down. She sprang
off the bed, hit her head on the top bunk, quickly changed into her
dress, and tried to fix her hair. She grabbed her guitar without its
case and ran out the door after Paige.

One of the light bulbs above the table was burnt out, making the back
of the theatre even darker than normal, but Olivia still saw Nicki
waiting in line after the show that night. "Hi, Nicki," she greeted
her as Nicki stepped up to the table.
"Hi, Olivia. Long time no see."
They smiled at each other.
"Great show. I loved 'Stars and the Moon.' Did you write that one?"
Olivia laughed. "No, Audra McDonald sings it. She didn't write it,
either, though. It was written for a musical."
"Oh, I'll have to check her out."
"I could make you a cd with some of her stuff if you want. I think
she's amazing."
"That would be great." Nicki pushed some hair away from her eyes and smiled.
"I'll bring it to tomorrow night's show. Are you coming?"
"I think so."
Olivia wanted to ask her more questions, like would she like to see
her outside of a show. Maybe they could go out for a late dinner one
night. But Paige asked her to help pack things up, and Nicki
shouldered her tie-dyed bag and said, "Well, I guess I'll see you
tomorrow night."
"See you then. Have a good night."
"Thanks. You, too."


On 8/3/16, Alyssa Frierson <alyssafrierson at gmail.com> wrote:
> Hello,
> Thanks to all who read and/or responded to the first chapter. For
> anyone interested, the second chapter is attached and pasted below. I
> added the last few paragraphs of chapter one before the chapter break
> so you'd know what the reference to the shadows in her head is about.
> Thank you.
>
> Alyssa
>
> Paige came out in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt, carrying a large
> red plastic bucket. They started singing the song, and Paige
> immediately got into character. Olivia grinned and tried to act into
> it, too, by giving Paige pencils and rolling up pieces of paper to fix
> the hole in the bucket. The audience chuckled and applauded.
> Olivia looked out and forced a smile. The familiar face from the
> imaginary crowd was there again. She sat in the front row, her hair in
> its perfect bun, eyes shining.
> "Go away," Olivia wanted to yell. "Why are you here?" Instead she
> opened her mouth and sang through her fear. She looked at the audience
> again as Paige introduced the next song. The woman was gone, but
> shadows of the memories of the last night they'd spent together
> stirred in the back of Olivia's mind.
> Chapter Two
> Sometimes, she heard music in everyday noises. Horns honking on the
> street, the sounds of people laughing and talking, the clanking of
> glasses and silverware in the diner where she'd worked for the last
> six months, they could all sound like a symphony. Today, she was
> serving a woman who looked about her age at Table Four. "Hi." She
> walked over to the table. "My name's Olivia. I'll be your server
> today. Can I start you off with something to drink?"
> The woman pushed some of her red hair away from her face, making the
> bracelets on her wrist jingle. "Hi. I'll have a diet Pepsi, please."
> "We have Coke products. Is that okay?"
> "Sure."
> "Do you know what you'd like to order, or would you like some more time?"
> "Um, can you give me a minute, please?" She smiled sweetly.
> "Sure. Our soup of the day is chicken and dumpling. I'll give you a
> few minutes." As she walked away, she wondered why they still served
> soup and had a soup of the day in the middle of June. A gust of hot
> air blew in as a couple left. Today, the bell on the door was just an
> annoying  bell, and the sound of silverware against plates didn't
> sound like a tiny percussion section.
>
> Olivia jumped when she heard brakes screech outside the only window in
> the shoe box-sized apartment she shared with Paige. She fingered the
> ballerina charm on her bracelet, took a deep breath, and forced
> herself to think of something besides the imaginary face in the
> audience at Douglas's and the memories screeching brakes still
> occasionally triggered. She glanced at the chipped red polish on her
> toes and wondered if she should apply a fresh coat before tonight. Her
> head turned  when she heard the doorknob rattle.
> "Guess what?" Paige came in wide-eyed and carrying two brown paper
> bags full of groceries.
> "What?" Olivia stood from the couch, straightened the skirt of her
> sundress, and took one of the bags from Paige. She started unloading
> groceries.
> "There was a ton of fruit on sale. I thought we could make that fruit
> salad Mom used to make during the summer." Paige smiled and held up a
> carton of blueberries as she opened the refrigerator.
> Olivia reached into the bag and pulled out a carton of strawberries, a
> bunch of bananas, an orange, a few kiwis, a pair of large red apples,
> and a whole pineapple. "This all looks so good. We haven't even
> started making it, and I'm already excited." She smiled and handed the
> carton of strawberries to Paige. At the age of twenty-four, she loved
> strawberries as much as she had when she was small. She smiled again,
> thinking of how she'd pick out the strawberries and refuse to eat the
> other fruit the summer after kindergarten. "Thank you for not getting
> watermelon." They'd both always picked out the watermelon. She set the
> bananas on the counter beside the sink.
> Paige plopped the kiwi beside the bananas, taking up the rest of the
> counter space, and smiled at her. "You're welcome. It just gets mushy
> too fast anyway. Do you think we have time to make it now?"
> Olivia glanced at the time on the microwave above the tiny stove.
> "Probably." She washed her hands at the sink and started  washing
> fruit while Paige finished putting away the groceries.
> After dinner, Olivia concentrated on the wonderful sweet taste of the
> fruit salad as she sat on the stool across from Paige at the counter
> that doubled as a table.
> "Liv?"
> Olivia blinked and realized her sister was waving a hand in front of
> her face, trying to get her attention.
> "Sorry. What?"
> Paige sighed and narrowed her brown eyes. "Are you sure you want to do
> this?"
> "Do what?"
> "The show."
> "Of course. I'm positive. Why? Are you having second thoughts?"
> "No. You know this is what I've wanted my whole life."
> It was true. Olivia thought back to a night that felt light-years
> away. It was the summer before Paige entered seventh grade and the
> summer before Olivia's sixth-grade year. Paige's best friend, Nancy
> Shermer, Paige, and Olivia lay in the grass in the Lawrence's
> backyard, looking up at the stars. "What do you want to be when you
> grow up, Liv?" Nancy asked.
> "I don't know. Maybe an astronaut, or a writer." She could hear her
> mother inside, doing dishes and singing along to Judy Collins on the
> stereo. Crickets sang their own song on the other side of the yard.
> "What about you, Paige?" Nancy asked.
> Paige answered without hesitation. "A singer."
> "That sounds like fun," Olivia chimed in. "I want to be a singer, too."
> "Okay," Paige replied. "We can do it together. We'll be an act."
> After they graduated from separate universities, a semester and a
> thousand miles apart, it was Paige who had remembered that summer
> night and honored her word when she'd said, "Let's go to New York and
> start our act."
> Olivia finished her bowl of fruit, rinsed it in the sink, and stacked
> it with the dirty dishes on the counter. "Then why are you asking me
> this?"
> "It's just that, almost every night we've played at Douglas's the
> audience was, well, there weren't even twenty-five people in that
> theatre."
> "So what? You really want to give up this easily? That's not the Paige
> I know. You know we're good enough to make it. We just have to give it
> more time. And Mr. Douglas asked us to perform for the rest of the
> next two weeks. That's something." Olivia didn't tell her sister she
> agreed with her at that moment, knowing she needed to be the
> encourager.
> "Maybe," Paige said.
> Olivia looked at her sister. Paige's face was serious as she brushed
> her bangs away from her eyes.
> "Why are you being so doubtful all of a sudden? You're the one who
> said we should do this. You're the one who won first prize at that
> talent competition when you were twelve, and you were the lead in the
> musical your last two years of high school." Olivia tucked some of her
> darker brown locks behind her ears.
> "I just want to make sure that I didn't force you into this-- that
> it's what you really want."
> "I already told you, it is what I want." Olivia looked at her
> calloused fingers and displayed them to Paige. "Would I have paid for
> guitar lessons with my own money in high school or written songs
> during my last semester at BoCo if I didn't want this?"
> "I guess last night just freaked me out a little," Paige admitted.
> "There'll be good nights and bad nights," Olivia said. "I'm going to
> go change. We have to be at the theatre in an hour. Am I doing it
> alone tonight?"
> "No." Paige replied, smiling.
> Olivia looked at Paige that night as she sang the Judy Collins song.
> Whatever fears or concerns she'd had earlier melted away. This was one
> of the things Olivia admired about her sister: she never let the
> audience see anything they weren't supposed to. She put her heart and
> all her energy into every song, no matter the size of the audience or
> what was going on in her personal life.
> The audience was a little bigger tonight. Olivia looked at the people
> sitting in the first row and stopped. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.
> She was back. The woman with the perfect bun, ballerina posture, and
> smiling green-gray eyes sat in the third seat from the right. She was
> wearing a skirt over her leotard, and she smiled and clapped after the
> song was over. Shadows stirred in the back of Olivia's mind again.
> Olivia glanced towards the opposite end of the row, where the woman
> with the long red curls was sitting. When she looked back, a thin,
> blond man sat in the third seat from the right. She tried not to look
> confused or frightened as she strummed the chords to the last song.
> She looked towards the end of the row again. The woman with the long,
> loose, red curls was still eyeing Olivia the way she had for almost
> the entire second act. Why did she look familiar?
>  "Thank you very much, everyone. Have a good night." Olivia set the
> microphone back in its stand and took a final bow with Paige.
> "I wish we had more to sell than just photos," Paige murmured as they
> walked to the back of the room to a table where they greeted audience
> members after every show. Most of the time people ignored the glossy
> photos of Paige and Olivia for sale and just stopped by to say hello
> or that they liked the						 show. Sometimes they said they
> particularly enjoyed the Hole in the Bucket number, which Paige and
> Olivia had decided to keep in the act after its success that first
> night. "Look at how many people are leaving." Paige said.
> "There are some people staying, though." Olivia noticed that, in
> particular, the red-headed woman was standing by the table looking at
> the pictures. Thank goodness, the ballerina was gone.
> She took her place beside Paige behind the table.
> "You girls were wonderful," a pudgy, balding man standing in front of
> Paige said. He pointed to Paige. "I especially loved it when you sang
> 'Who Knows Where the Time Goes.' My sister and I loved that song
> growing up."
> Paige smiled. "Thank you. We did, too."
> Olivia looked up and saw the red-headed woman standing right in front
> of her. She was wearing dark jeans and a white baby-doll tee, and she
> had big silver hoops stuck in her ears. She was holding pictures, but
> Olivia couldn't see which ones they were.
> "Hi," Olivia greeted her.
> "Hi," she said, smiling shyly. "I-- I really enjoyed the show."
> That smile. Olivia recognized her now: the woman from the diner a few
> days ago. She'd left a very generous tip. Olivia smiled. "Thank you.
> I'm glad. Means we're doing our job." She motioned to the pictures the
> woman was holding. "Would you like me to sign any of those?"
> The red head's green-gray eyes widened a little. Olivia blinked and
> looked again. No, her eyes were a soft forest green, not gray at all.
> "Oh, um, please." She handed Olivia an 8x10 photo. In the photo,
> Olivia was wearing dark jeans and a burgundy blouse, and she sat posed
> on the ground with her back against a tree. She had a dreamy look on
> her face and in her crystal-blue eyes.
> Olivia picked up her Sharpie. "Who do you want me to make this out to?"
> "Nicki, N-i-c-k-i."
> Olivia nodded and wrote, TO: Nicki, LOVE: Olivia.
> "How many of those do you have," Olivia asked, gesturing to the other
> photos Nicki was holding.
> "Oh, um, that one that you just signed, and then these two." Olivia
> thought she felt a small electric current pass between them as Nicki
> handed her another 8x10, this one of she and Paige, and a smaller
> photo. Olivia glanced at the smaller photo; it was her headshot. The
> background was black, and she wore a yellow shirt similar to the one
> Nicki was wearing.
> She admired the big butterfly sitting on Nicki's right ring finger. "I
> like your ring."
> "Thanks." Nicki smiled and touched the ring briefly.
> "That'll be fourteen dollars, please. See, we charge you five for the
> bigger ones, but since this one's smaller,”--she held up her
> headshot--"we charge you a little less."
> "Keep the change." Nicki handed Olivia a twenty.
> "Thank you," Olivia said, beaming.
> "You're welcome." Nicki returned the smile.
>
> Later, Olivia and Paige stood outside waiting for a cab. Down the
> street, someone laid on their horn, and Olivia jumped. She closed her
> eyes for a second and swallowed hard.
> Paige put her hand on her shoulder. "That girl with the red hair was,
> like, really into you."
> "Nicki? No, she wasn't." A siren wailed a few blocks away.
> "I know it's been a few years, but you can't possibly not know when
> someone's into you."
> "Fine, so what if she was?" Olivia asked casually, adjusting the
> guitar case on her shoulder.
> Paige continued speaking. "She bought some pictures. I stole a peek.
> You were in all three of them, and in two of them you were alone."
> "So what?"
> "You were into her, too, weren't you?"
> "Stop."
> "I kind of thought that thing with Lena in college was a phase, or
> some experimental thing. But, hey, if you'd rather hang out with Nicki
> than Nick, I don't care."
> "How could you possibly think that? Lena wasn't a thing," Olivia said
> sharply, putting emphasis on the word 'thing.' "We were in a
> relationship. It's not something you get out of your system, and it's
> not a phase." She crossed her arms over her chest. Heat still radiated
> from the sidewalk, and she felt her back break out in a sweat. Her
> shoes pinched her feet, and she could feel a blister forming on the
> ball of her left foot.
> "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. You know I just want you to be
> happy."
> Olivia was grateful when a cab pulled up.
>
>
>
>
> On 7/29/16, Alyssa Frierson <alyssafrierson at gmail.com> wrote:
>> Chris,
>> Thank you so much for your reply and for reading. I think I see what
>> you mean about tention. I'll have to see what I can do.
>> Thanks again.
>>
>> Alyssa
>>
>> On 7/26/16, Chris Kuell  via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>>> Hi Alyssa,
>>>
>>> It's great to see someone posting actual writing to this group.
>>>
>>> This first chapter reads well to me. Your pacing is good, your
>>> characters
>>> are just introduced, but are interesting so far. You do a good job of
>>> balancing detail with action and dialogue, and no grammar/punctuation
>>> errors
>>> jumped out at me. I really appreciate that you didn't do a
>>> background-info-dump in this chapter (a rookie mistake) so as I said,
>>> this
>>> reads well.
>>>
>>> If I put on my editors hat, my primary critique would be that there's no
>>> tension. There's no reason for a reader to go on to chapter two. It
>>> doesn't
>>> matter what genre book it is--you need tension to keep the reader
>>> reading.
>>> You need them to wonder what happens next. You are obviously a skilled
>>> writer, so I won't make suggestions here. But think about it, and try a
>>> little revising.
>>>
>>> Thanks for sharing.
>>>
>>> Chris
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> _______________________________________________
>>> Writers Division web site
>>> http://writers.nfb.org/
>>> stylist mailing list
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