Wendy Chapter 1: Larchmont Hotel

Meet Wendy!

CHAPTER ONE: Larchmont Hotel

“Well, well, look who's late. That's three minutes, Wendy. Consider this your verbal warning.”

Dave was waiting to pounce as I walked by his office.

I had just entered the wide double doors to the housekeeping area, open to catch the fresh morning air. The cavernous room was rumbling with the sound of industrial dryers. The hot, damp smell of freshly washed linens enfolded me. Sean, a houseman, was only a few steps behind me.

Dave ignored Sean as he sauntered past us.

“But--” I protested, looking at Sean. He was late too. Why always me?

Dave turned away and reentered his lair, a smug look on his toad-like face. Frustration knotted my stomach. His unfair reprimands were piling up. If I got too many I’d go on probation and I had no recourse. He was the Executive Housekeeper, head of the entire housekeeping department.

The assistant manager, a tall slender woman named Brenda, leafed through her clipboard papers. With a smile she said, “Full house last night. You have 18 rooms, mostly stay overs.” She handed me my rooms sheet. “Over time,” she said brightly.

I hurried out of housekeeping and emerged into a lushly carpeted corridor. I turned right, toward the elevators that served the eastern wing. Larchmont Hotel had 256 rooms, plus a floor of suites and a floor of meeting rooms, 10 floors in all. I bypassed the elevators and mounted the emergency fire stairwell. The elevators were for guests.

My personal domain, the eastern wing of the third floor, was hushed and neat. I retrieved my housekeeping cart from the supply closet, pushing the unwieldy thing out into the hallway. Consulting my check out sheet, I started my labor. One room after another, I went through my routine.

Sean was my houseman that day, periodically removing pillowcases stuffed with dirty linen and replenishing supplies of towels, amongst his other duties. Midmorning, as I folded a sheet corner into a triangle and tucked it in, there was Dave’s voice, calling me to my cart at the room doorway.

“307 needs to be dusted again.” His eyes caught mine in an unfriendly stare. “You missed a lightbulb. And there’s lint on the floor in 302.”

As I vacuumed 302 again, I burned inside. These were supposed to be spot inspections, but he scrutinized my every room like this. The lint had been barely visible. The dust on the lightbulb would probably prove to be the lightest film of dust no one would ever notice. Except Dave.

I searched in vain for tips. Another bad day.

***

Hands deep in hot dishwater, I sang along with Pentatonix's version of 'Hallelujah.'

“Wendy, do you have to sing like that?” Pam said as she stomped in.

My heart jumped. The rush of the running water and the music had masked the sound of my sister's entrance. All pleasure drained away. I sighed, dried my hands and switched off my music. 

Pam tossed her Taco Hut apron onto a chair at the kitchen table, on her way to the living room. The sound of the TV drifted back into the kitchen, making music impossible. I might as well do the shopping.

Collecting grocery bags, shopping list and purse, I asked, “You coming to the store, Pam?”

“Just a sec, let me change out of my uniform.”

I’d already shucked my own Larchmont Hotel uniform in favor of soft, comfy leggings and a long sleeved tee. My long hair was up in a loose bun.

“Okay, but don't take forever with your hair. It's just the grocery store.”

Pam and I shared the same straight dark hair and pale skin, but unlike I, she constantly fought it with bleach, perms, bronzers, foundations. I supposed to Pam I seemed dull, but I saw no reason to argue with nature.

Wearing a miniskirt and ankle boots, with her hair fluffed and fixed, Pam finally marched out the door. She climbed into my Subaru station wagon, immediately changing the radio to the pop station and turning the volume up. As I pulled away from the curb, I turned the volume down.

We plowed through the Wrigley Road traffic. Aiken, Illinois was just large enough to have a rush hour and this was it. In mid-May, the sun was far from setting and it shone down on four lanes of frustrated commuters. At the Piglet Grocery Store sign, I entered the parking lot and pulled into a free spot.

Once inside the store, Pam started poring over peanut butter labels, comparing fat and calorie content. I eased the cart down the aisle towards the preserves, leaving Pam behind. I was idly cruising the strawberry jams when someone called my name. It was one of the hotel housemen, Eric, who ate lunch with me occasionally. I had never seen him outside of work before. It was strange seeing him in jeans. He was good looking, tall and dark haired with black eyes. His green t-shirt set off his warm complexion and I was fascinated by the defined muscles I had never seen before, normally hidden away under his uniform.

Realizing I was staring, I started to say "Hi," just as he said, "Hey Wendy."

I laughed, a flush starting creep up my neck.

Not seeming to notice my discomposure, Eric said, "So this is where all your gourmet lunches begin. What's on the menu this week, anything special?”

“No, too busy to cook this week. But next week I'll make peach cobbler.” The flush was mounting. If this went on much longer, he'd be able to see my furious blush.

“Oh la la, fancy. I feel accomplished if I can even find the kitchen. Your sister is lucky to have such a good cook for a roommate.”

Pam arrived, peanut butter in hand, huffing impatiently. “It was good to see you," I said as the heat crept further up my neck.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he responded. With a smile, I turned to Pam, snatched what she had in her hand, put it in the cart and pressed on to the jellies, face burning.

***

Sunday morning I woke before my alarm. I stretched and yawned, feeling cheerful. Sundays were good tip days and I was looking forward to a lunch date with my Uncle Philip on Monday.

The first four rooms I did were check-outs. No tips. Well, but there would be more in the other rooms. But no, room after room, no tips. Finally one guest approached to give me a twenty. It was my first tip out of six rooms. I did a good job as a matter of pride. I was not cynical. I enjoyed making our guests comfortable and happy. Tips were a bonus. But to work so hard and earn none at all rankled. To top it off, Dave was riding my a*s that day, even more so than usual. Every time I looked down the corridor, there was Dave's squat form emerging from one of my rooms.

I crossed out my eighth room just before lunch. That day I had a staggering nineteen rooms rather than the usual sixteen, so I'd need to pick up the pace a bit after lunch to get through by five thirty.

I snagged my lunch, exiting through the housekeeping back door. I passed the housekeepers gathered around the hotel's only staff picnic table and walked down the sidewalk until I came to my favorite bench, out of reach of the cigarette smoke that hung around the staff break area. There was Eric in the distance, coming back from the sub shop attached to the far side of the hotel. He usually sat with me when he worked first shift. Today I was in luck and he settled next to me.

“Yours looks better than mine,” Eric said as we unpacked our lunches. Mine was an avocado, tomato and tempeh sandwich on Italian bread with the broccoli, carrots and cauliflower I'd packed the night before. His was a limp cold cut combo, potato chips and a soda. “I’m experiencing a serious case of sandwich envy.”

Laughing, I took pity on him and offered to share my veggies.

As we ate, dipping our vegetables in ranch dressing, Eric asked, “How are tips?”

I told him of my disappointment.

“Has this happened before? No tips on a big check out day?” His sudden intense attention surprised me.

“Well, yes, come to think of it...” I searched back in my mind. There was last Sunday. I’d noticed the odd lack of tips because I needed gas and had anticipated paying for it out of tip money.

Eric listened with interest. “Was Sean working your floor that day?”

“No, he was off. Why?”

“Sometimes employees will steal tips. But it doesn't sound as if Sean could be doing it. Pay attention. I know it can't be one of the old-timers. But maybe one of the new girls. Look out for people on your floor that don't belong there.”

No one ever intruded on my domain. Except Dave and the housemen. We had just ruled out Sean. My anger had nowhere to go so I pressed it down. I packed up the remnants of my lunch and headed back to the hotel.

***

I called my mother when I got home. I hadn't talked to her in a few weeks.

“Wendy, is that you?” Her raspy voice held her habitual anger. This was why I didn’t call often.

“Yes, Mom. Just calling to see how you’re doing.” Tucking the phone against my shoulder I picked up my shoes and bag and headed to the bedroom.

“That lay-about, Jim, lost his job.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” This was no surprise, her taste in men did not run to the employable. I chucked my work shoes into the bottom of the closet.

“I’m going crazy with the bills. I ain’t no sugar mamma. I can barely put food on the table.”

I was glad to be away from the emotional and financial chaos that ruled my mother’s life. I couldn’t even remember who Jim was. Her bed was like a revolving door. Except when she was with Bruce. That went on for three years. I wished I could erase those three years.

“You’re still working at Patsy’s?” I asked. This was a rundown second hand store where she was cashier.

“Yeah. They still haven’t given me my raise.” Her anger was all too familiar. It was small wonder she never got the raise. She was always late and often called in, too hung over to work.

Skipping over that subject, I mentioned my lunch date with my Uncle Philip, who had retired here to Aiken to be near us.

“Don't drink from anything he touches," she said. "He's probably got AIDS. Running around in San Francisco all that time, he's sure to have it.”

I suppressed a groan. “Mom, you know he was with Tom for years. He wasn't running around.” I was now sorting my laundry, lights and darks.

“They all have it.” Where she got these ideas, I didn't know. You'd think having a gay man for a brother would have cured her of these misconceptions. I grew tired of her ignorance and ended the conversation. I gathered my load of laundry and headed to the washer. 

Author's Note

I am no longer working on Wendy and will NOT return any reviews of this work.

Reviews

[JayG]

You're working hard on this, and it shows. But...as presented, it's a chronicle of events, a great many of them not significant to moving the plot, meaningfully setting the scene, or developing character. And unless they do one of those, they take up the reader's time with the mundane—informing when they should be entertaining.

Look at the opening. Wouldn't we know she was a housekeeper in a hotel if she knocked, waited, and then unlocked the door and called "Hello, Housekeeping," to be certain she wasn't walking in on anyone?

And given that we would, why spent time explaining what she does to the reader? In short, show them, don't tell them.

Do we care that it's misting rain outside if the action takes place indoors? What you're doing is taking the reader through the opening of the film version of the story, as-if-they-can-see-it. But they can't. In the opening of the film we'd see how she's dressed, her age and nationality, know the quality of the hotel, and by her car and possessions, her. But none of that reaches the reader when you mention the windshield wipers and saying hello to co-workers. And of more importance. By the time you reach the place where something meaningful happens, it's taken ten times as long to read as to watch, so the story is moving at a crawl.

Look at her opening day from a reader's viewpoint. We read 664 words. Were this a standard manuscript submission, that would place us near the top of the forth manuscript page.What have we learned:

1. She's a hotel housekeeper.
2. When she's five minutes late she's reprimanded, but another worker isn't. She believes it's unfair. My reaction is that she's apparently not smart enough plan to show up a few minutes early, just in case, and maybe drink a morning coffee before starting work.
3. She had two extra rooms to clean and was paid an unknown amount of overtime. Hardly counts as drama.
4. There's a FOP convention in the hotel. But we never see or meet one, and never learn if their rooms are more or less interesting than someone attending a podiatrist's convention. She says she doesn't like the members but we never learn why.

Four pages and what's happened? Nothing significant.

Here's the problem: Story doesn't lie in the mundane details of what happens. As a reader, do I care that a hotel maid cleaned rooms for people attending a convention if all she does is clean and go home? Do I want to know that her boss makes her re-clean things that she actually missed? Not unless she's going to murder him for it. Is he demanding? Is he a jerk? Sure. But she already knows this and she's just griping, rather then trying to quit or change the situation.

Put yourself in the place of a reader. Mild curiosity has driven you to read the opening to this story, to decide if you want to commit to reading it all. And the average reader will decide, in three pages or less, if they want to stop reading, As you read, that curiosity will fade unless you replace it with a desire—a need— to know more. So, given that: What in that first day makes this story more interesting than a story about a bus driver as he drives his route? What makes it more interesting then that of any other employee in that hotel. What makes it more intersting than a list of what that reader did on that day?

As the great Alfred Hitchcock observed: "Drama is life without the dull bits."

See my point? You're informing the reader about things they might do themselves instead of reading. I could, for example, clean my apartment. Is that less or more interesting than leaning that someone I don't know has cleaned hotel rooms?

Now...had she found a body in the bathtub...had someone jumped out of the bathtub, naked, and chased her around the hotel...had a ghost appeared and told her that she had six hours to live...had something happened that required her to solve an interesting problem... Then, the reader would WANT to read on. And if we don't make them want (or better yet, need) to turn the page they won't.

The short version: It's not you. It's not about your talent as a writer. It's not the story. It's that they do NOT teach us how to write fiction in school. They teach us to write reports and essays: nonfiction, in other words, to prepare us for employment.

They never tell us that because our teachers aren't any more aware than we are that writing fiction is, like any other field, filled with tricks of the trade, specialized knowledge, and things that are obvious once pointed out—like the three points to address when starting a scene. And that's what's holding you back. You may be awash with talent. But as mark Twain observed, “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”

So the solution is simple: pick up the tricks of a pro and maybe you'll write like one. I say, "maybe," because we can't know if we can write like one till we learn the tricks they know, and and practice them, any more than we can know if we're professional ballplaying material till we learn the tricks of how to play ball like a pro.

But here's the good news: If you are to be a writer you'll find the learning fun, and filled with things that make you say, "Why didn't I see that?"

I won't sugar coat it. Anyone can write for fun. If you hope to be a writer, though, it will take study, and lots and lots of practice till you can convince the writing skills that are so practiced that they feel intuitive to stop grabbing at the controls when you try to write fiction. But when you do, you'll be amazed at the difference in how exciting your writing can be.

The local library's fiction writing section can help, a lot. And my personal recommendation, as it usually is, is it to seek the names Dwight Swain, Jack Bickham, and Debra Dixon on the cover.

In fact, I'd suggest you begin with Deb's, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict. You can pick it up at any online bookseller, or in hard copy from her site. It's a warm easy read, and will give you a good feel for the nuts and bolts issues. Well worth the time to read, slowly, with lots of time to think about each point as it's raised, and practice it till it's part of your skill set, as against noted and forgotten three days later. The articles in my writing blog might also help, by giving you an idea of the issues involved that you need to address.

But whatever you do, hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

Appended: I just noted that you say you're not working on this. So I looked at your other writing, and the points I note here apply to your other stories, as well.

[SweetNutmeg]

WOW! Thank you so much for devoting so much time to this review. You have so many helpful things to say. I haven't had the time to read your entire review, but what i have read so far was enlightening but also encouraging. And you know, I've been struggling with this chapter for so long. Off and on, but still, put a good number of hours into it. I remember Stephen King saying he always throws away his first chapter. I might do that here. As you pointed out there is so much unnecessary stuff in this chapter. I don't know how to throw a reader in head first though, while giving them the important back ground information also. I read somewhere that all the information you need to convey can be said through dialogue, and I have read some really great examples of that approach. One example I remember vividly was two detectives discussing a crime scene, which expressed everything I needed to know about the crime with zero telling, plus delineated their personalities at the same time. Anyway, you have given me a lot to think about. I am flattered you felt my writing deserved so much of your time and attention. I really appreciate it.

[JayG]

Glad to help.

The problem you face is that you're missing information, and writing exactly as you've been taught, And because you are, it's easy to misinterpret things like "show, don't tell."

Because of the word "show" we assume it means there should be more visuals. But our medium does poorly with visuals because as the saying goes, "a picture is worth a thousand words."

Problem is, a picture is seen and absorbed in an eyeblink, but a thousand words is four manuscript pages of prose, and takes minutes per page to read. And who wants to read four pages about a scene that the protagonist is mostly ignoring?

And while it's true that it's far better to learn through dialog than exposition, that only applies when the conversation seems real, necessary to the situation, and is something the reader has been made to WANT to know. The best way to learn backstory and detail is to not realize that you are, because it seems like enrichment of necessary lines.

For example, if we need the reader to know that it's chilly, we might have the protagonist pull his jacket more tightly around his neck in response to a shiver, as he studies the house he's planning to sneak into. That way, the focus is on what he's trying to accomplish, not the weather. But the reader, having known that act in response to a shiver, will empathize and feel as if they are with him, which helps the scene feel real.

The thing is, like any other profession, there are lots of tricks and techniques that have been developed over the years that aren't obvious, and which help immensely. For example, the term scene, on stage and in film, derives from scenery. So when it's time to change the scenery, the scene is over.

But on the page, the term refers to a unit of tension, something very different—something our schooldays teaching never mentions. But if we don't know that, and the elements that make up a scene on the page, how can we create one that works? That's why I said it's not a failure of talent, or a matter of good/bad writing.

Think of how many reports and essays we had to wrote in school, and how few stories. Add to that, the one who graded our stories had probably sold not a word of their own writing. After all, if English teachers knew how best to write fiction, wouldn't most new writers be teachers?

For an example of what we're not taught, take a look at this article on how to provide a strong viewpoint:
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php

Chew on it for a time, till it starts to make sense, and you'll see a major reason why this story has been giving you trouble. The article is a condensation of only one of the techniques you'll find in Dwight Swain's, Techniques of the Selling Writer, and well worth the time it takes to master it.

To see why having a strong viewpoint matters so much to a reader's enjoyment, you might want to read my article: What in the Hell is POV?
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/2011/09/22/the-grumpy-writing-coach-8/

I suggested Debra Dixon's book because it's a gentle introduction, but Swain, though harder to read and process, is the best I've found to date. Either one of those books, is to be read slowly, practiced for about six months, then read again, to get as much new the second time.

Hope this helps

[SweetNutmeg]

I'm rather busy right now, hence the long interval.Thank you again for your time and attention. I wanted to see in practice what good openings look like, since that's what you're critiquing. So I took a half dozen of my favorite books and wrote out the first two or three paragraphs. That gave me a broad sample and I saw in action the things you mention. I re-wrote the first six paragraphs or so to see if I could do more to throw my reader in there with immediacy, hooking their interest. I will mention, in the story, her boss being unfair and unpleasant is pretty important, which is why it is the first thing that happens. And, hey, we've all been a few minutes late. It's not unusual or particularly reprehensible. The boss's reaction is unusual, not her tardiness. Anyway, I re-did the opening as practice. I am still contemplating just throwing it out and starting at a different point in the story. But practicing openings can't hurt. You've been very helpful and encouraging. I'll check out your blog when I get some free time (a very rare commodity right now). I appreciate your gentle approach, encouraging rather than cutting down. You're very kind. Thank you.

[JayG]

Much better. But, you know what they do when you clear the bar. They raise the bar. 😉 So…
read moreMuch better. But, you know what they do when you clear the bar. They raise the bar. 😉 So…

• “Well, well, look who's late. That's three minutes, Wendy. Consider this your verbal warning.”

Much better. But, you know what they do when you clear the bar. They raise the bar. 😉 So…

Let’s address the question of what’s going on, early, to provide context. Remember, the reader doesn’t know who’s talking, their tone, or who they’re talking to. So why not something like:
- - - -
“Well, well, look who's late,” The Executive Housekeeper said, as I passed his door.

Sorry, Dave…freeway traffic was terrible this morning, and—”

That's three minutes, Wendy,” he snapped. “Consider this your verbal warning.”
- - - - -
The why:

I made the opening dialog shorter, so we could learn who’s speaking quickly, plus, establish pecking order between them. I dropped in “Executive Housekeeper” to place the reader so far as the field she works in.

I added her attempt to explain her lateness so he could interrupt, which shows his character and attitude, without having to spell it out as an authorial interruption. I had her mention the freeway to hint that this takes place in LA (might not be where your story does, it’s only an example of unobtrusive scene-setting)

I broke his second line of dialog in half to add the word “snapped,” which allows the reader to learn how the previous line was spoken, and “hear” the line that follows in-his-tone. The trick is to sneak such detail in as enrichment to necessary lines, so it’s unnoticed, and so the author doesn’t have to appear on stage and kill realism.

• I had just entered the wide double doors to the housekeeping area, open to catch the fresh morning air.

This is irrelevant visual detail. Remember, we don’t yet know where we are, or why opening the doors would be necessary. And, if it was a narrow door would it change anything? No, because the setting is still unknown. And, if we’ve changed the text to something like I presented above, this line becomes unnecessary. Why it matters is that with this style of presentation you bring the action to a halt and step on stage with an authorial intrusion. Do that and the story isn’t happening, it’s being explained. Place that same information as part of what the character in the scene notices and reacts to, and that doesn't happen.

• Sean, a houseman, was only a few steps behind me.

A reader probably doesn’t know what a houseman does/is. And in any case you mention him only to show that he gets away with lateness. But it doesn’t work. Sean could have, for example, been returning from an errand. He might be the best employee, or the man's brother. Because we know nothing about him but his name and position , as presented it makes no case for discrimination. In any case this line is unnecessary. For why, read on.

• “But--” I protested, looking at Sean. He was late too. Why always me?

First. An Em-Dash (— the character you’re looking for) is a sharp cutoff or interruption. Here, you’re showing frustration, so a hesitation via an ellipsis, perhaps with a rephrase, can show that more realistically.

And why TELL the reader that she’s looking at Sean? They can’t see it happen, looking or not looking doesn't change the line's message

Think about it as a reader: which is better, having the narrator explain that she’s looking at him, or mentioning him as part of the protagonist's conversation with the boss? Which one is in the moment the protagonist calls “now?”

And finally: Telling the reader that it’s a protest, when the wording already shows that it is, is wasted verbiage that slows the narrative pace. Think of what matters here and cut what doesn’t. For example, combining all the comments above, and expanding it a bit to place it in your protagonist's moment of now, you might say:
- - - - -
“But Dave, I—”

“Excuse me,” one of the housemen said, as he slipped past.

I couldn’t help the frustration that filled my voice as I turned back to Dave and said, “But…well, what about Sean? He just walked by, later than I am, and you said nothing. Is that fair?”
- - - - -
The why:

Rather than explain, as the narrator, I had the houseman interrupt her. That, in and of itself, is what motivates her to mention him. And if the protagonist is to be our avatar, don't we have to know what drives her to speak and act, to make that seem natural, real, and what we would do were we her? Without that will we care?

I mentioned her frustration because that was a direct result of noticing the passing man and realizing how he related to HER situation. And by taking advantage of that she becomes more real, demonstrates the ability to think on her feet, and in general, make it more real.

I used the generic “houseman first, to show that he’s not important as an individual, only as an example of what she means. I had her name him in the next line to show that she knows the others on staff, and, so he has a name and title if we need him as a character later.

I had her hesitate and rephrase to demonstrate Her frustration, and her inability to express herself because she is frustrated. Doing that is a bit of characterization (maybe not your character, but it shows a way to do it unobtrusively)

And finally, I expanded her comment on him walking by to relate it to fairness to show that she’s trying to apply reason as a way of getting more fair treatment.

Great writing. No. It’s just a quick example, to show how you can in such detail from within the protagonist’s viewpoint instead of explaining as the narrator. Telling the story from the inside out, as against from the outside in.

In short, as Sol Stein said, “In sum, if you want to improve your chances of publication, keep your story visible on stage and yourself mum.”

Hope this helps

[SweetNutmeg]

I am not sure if this is all of your comment... it says "read more" but clicking that doesn't show a longer comment. So if there is more, it is lost. :(

[JayG]

Damn, I hate when this site eats posts. Judging by the number of trash spams these days I suspect that the site-owner isn't paying a lot of attention to maintenance.

I worked for an hour on that. But...I’ll try again…

• “Well, well, look who's late. That's three minutes, Wendy. Consider this your verbal warning.”

Look at this from the viewpoint of a reader. Someone we don't know, whose mood, location, and intent are unknown is talking to someone we know nothing about.

Question: are we in the speaker's viewpoint, or the one being spoken to? It matters, but there’s no way to tell as we read. See the problem? You know. Wendy knows. But the reader can't. So, let's change the opening to provide context as it’s read, with something like:
- - - - -
"Well, well, look who's late," the Executive Housekeeper said, sarcasm making his voice even less pleasant.

"I'm sorry, Dave.” I said, pasting on a smile. “The freeway was —"

“Your problem, Wendy. That's three minutes. So consider this your verbal warning.”

“But I—”

“Excuse me, one of the housemen said, as he brushed by.

I couldn’t keep the frustration from my voice as I turned to Dave and said, "But I… Wait. What about Sean? He just walked by, later than I was, and you said nothing. Is that fair?"
- - - - -
The why:

I ended the first dialogue quickly, so could introduce the speaker, and how he spoke the line. By saying that it was unpleasant I give HER view and both influence the reader not to like him and show her character, a bit, before we meet her. That way it serves to establish mood and situation. I mention his position, to provide context, and give the reader an idea of where they were, the relationship, and what's going on.

I didn’t use his name because that would be explanation—authorial interruption, and at that point meaningless. Instead I had her use his name in reply, which is more natural because it comes in context—and has meaning to her.

I inserted her attempt to explain, and interrupted it with the rest of what Dave says, to show their relationship, and her status as he sees it (her view of that). That way, both the protagonist and the reader are being interrupted. So Dave is seen as discourteous. See how small things about how the protagonist is perceiving and reacting in their moment of now can influence the reader?

Instead of mentioning that Sean was behind her, which is 100% telling about someone we know nothing about, I introduced him in a way that causes her to notice him and react. His unexpected appearance gives her ammunition says she's been discriminated against, rather than having the author mentioning it. And because she does it in reaction we show that she’s intelligent. It's a small thing, but notice how the feeling of time passing is given by sequential actions that trigger each action in response. In short, showing instead of telling. The trick is that the term "showing" doesn't refer to mentioning visual things. It refers to presenting the protagonist viewpoint — showing the world as THEY see it.

Notice too, that this eliminates the need to tell the reader that she was passing Dave's office. Do we really care if this conversation takes place in the hallway, his office, or anywhere specific? No the goal is to make the reader know her relationship with Dave, who promptly disappears. And mentioning that she passed his office tells us nothing useful about how the place is laid out, and so can bring no real visual picture to anyone but you. • I had just entered the wide double doors to the housekeeping area, open to catch the fresh morning air.

The words, “I had” can only come from a narrator presenting a memory. We want this story to take place in real-time. And each time you stop the action to dole out backstory and information the scene clock is stilled, momentum evaporates, and the reader is told, “this is only a story.” So, if the line is necessary, we percent what matters to her in her moment of now, which would be more like: “the doors to the housekeeping area were…” But, do we even need this? Are wide doors six feet or four? So they open in or out? Who cares? Remember, we don’t know what kind of the building this is, or what she does, at this point. You might say that this is scene setting, but, is it? The answer is no, for two reasons: first is that this is backstory. And if the information is necessary, why start the story and then go back and explain what happened before it started? Just start it atr that point. But…nothing happens in that room. Does it matter if the doors were open or closed, if we don’t know the weather or location? No. Do we care what the room smells like? Not if nothing happens in there. In short: it’s pretty but irrelevant.

The quick version: You’re doing much better. But as you know, when you clear the bar we raise the bar 😉 And there is a LOT to learn.

Some time spent with Swain's, Techniques of the Selling Writer would give you far more than what I can mention here. And, it won’t disappear the way yesterday’s post did.

Hope this helps

[SweetNutmeg]

I will definitely put Swain's on my reading list. I've been given a good number of recommendations for instructional books, but I'll put Swain's at the top, because you have been by far the most helpful person to critique my work.

I see exactly what you are saying. Your version is much more engaging. The size of the room actually does matter in the next chapter, so i will contemplate that. And some of what you posited would be out of character for Wendy, but I'd want to go back and change it around some anyway so that it is mine and not yours. Thank you for explaining the why for all you did to change it. You are a good teacher.

At this point all the work I do on this story is practice and learning. The entire structure of the work has insuperable problems. But I've learnt so much from posting this story as an exercise! I am much happier with my next story, Oak Island, but the beginning is atrocious, so I will work on that beginning also, practice beginnings in general. When I have time!

I can't thank you enough for your personal, detailed attention. I really appreciate it and I'm getting a lot out of it. You are very kind.

[JayG]

• The size of the room actually does matter in the next chapter, so i will contemplate that.

The thing we forget is that unlike us, our reader may not be with us long. If they read us on the train, or at lunch hour, we may have them for only fifteen minutes in a day. And given that weekends factor in, by the time a reader gets to the point where something we mention is necessary, they may have forgotten, which means we introduce things where they matter.

But in general, think of it this way: It's her story to live, not have talked about. So when it matters to her in the moment she calls now; when SHE takes it into account when deciding what to do next, it's in her mind and so belongs in the reader's.

Here's an article that shows the best way I know to place the reader into the protagonist's viewpoint so deeply that they will react in parallel with the protagonist. Basically, it mimics life. You and I, from the moment we awake to the instant sleep claims us live an unbroken chain of cause and effect. Something claims our attention and we focus in it, and react to it. And in doing so, usually determine what will next hold our attention.

Think of conversation. It's all cause and effect, chained from one response to the other. And life is like that, though we don't notice it. Can our protagonist live any differently and seem real?
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php

Chew on it till it makes sense. It's a condensation of one of the techniques in Dwight Swain's, Techniques of the Selling Writer. Play with it a bit to see how it works for you. At first it will seem stiff, like counting steps when learning the waltz. And your existing writing reflexes will scream in outrage because it feels wrong, and try to take control and fix it. But persevere, making sure that every action has a known motivation and every motivation has only one reaction. Then, have the computer read it aloud and I think you'll like the result.

And if it seems like something to pursue further, pick up the book. He says it a lot better than I do.

I particularly like this method because one of the unexpected benefits is that when using it we're forced to look at the situation, and evaluate it, as-the-protagonist, taking into account their resources, needs, and imperatives. Try to force the protagonist to do something not within the range of things THEY would choose to do and they'll tell you, "Hell no."

Another benefit is that there have been more than a few times where by doing that I escaped the corner I thought I'd painted my character into. It makes the act of writing feel as if the protagonist is driving the car—a partner, not a lackey.

As for my putting your lady out of character with the example, I wasn't trying to write your story, only creating a quick parallel as an example of another way to present the action.

Hope this helps

[SweetNutmeg]

Again, thank you, and my apologies for taking so long to get back to this. Inconvenient and annoying as it is, life happens. I carefully read the suggested article and went back to the beginning (again!) and tried out the technique. It is an excellent way to structure things and I noticed that it really makes you think Does this belong here? Is it relevant to the current scene? Is it relevant at all? The answer to many many sentences in my story is No. I knew there was a lot of chaff in the first chapter, but had no idea how to sift through it and find the stuff that belongs. This is a big help. I wish I had more time right now, but everything is sort of on hold except for the basics. Maslow's hierarchy of needs and all that boring adult stuff.

Thank you again. I can't say how much I appreciate your time and attention. You're very helpful and kind.

[Samuel Dickens]

This is a good first chapter. Not that you should change anything, but something I'm always conscious of is the number of characters introduced early on. My belief is that they should be kept down as much as possible in the beginning, so as to not drain away the reader's interest. Very lean on details and characters until the reader is taken in. That's just me, of course. "unlike I,"--I think "unlike me" sounds better.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! This story is an old one I mainly keep up to remind myself what not to do. There are so many unfixable inherent flaws, it's just a museum piece at this point. I agree about introducing too many characters at once. If I were to re-do this story, I'd throw away the first chapter entirely and start with the second chapter. It's far more interesting and forwards the plot. Unlike this chapter, which doesn't do much, just introduces the characters, and too many of them at that. The worst flaw in this story is the love interest. A friend on here called him a Ken Doll, a perfect guy there to make the heroine happy, no other real function or life of his own. Which is an apt description and one that always makes me laugh. :)

[Shep]

Still worth the read when I have nothing better to do. gives me the in insights of what kind of writer you are so let me be the judge. I found it quite interesting yet maintain or fair monotone dialogue wondering where it was going and where it was going to lead me but interesting enough to get me to move to the next chapter.

[SweetNutmeg]

Oh goodness, you really are tearing through my stuff. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of your comments.