The Reunion

Ezra and his wife travel from Georgia to DC to meet the family of the man their daughter is marrying. Unbeknownst to all, the fathers in both families are enemies from each other's distant past.

“Dad, wake up, we’re here,” said an exhausted Darrin leaning back in the seat of his rented Honda Civic.  After making the trip from Augusta, Georgia to Washington, DC with his mother, father, and niece, 23-year-old Darrin smiled with a sense of satisfaction.  As tired as he was, he felt accomplished.  He was determined to be here for this day, and that’s exactly what he had done.  After a 7 hour trip, they were finally here.

Well rested, 56-year-old Ezra opened his eyes to take in all of the sights around him.  There was the buzzing traffic, the sidewalks filled with tourists, and the sight of lunch trucks encircling the various parks right outside of the fancy Drayton Plaza Hotel.  A far cry from what he was used to on his small farm in Georgia, nonetheless, well worth every minute of the trip.  He began thinking of all of the trips he had taken with his children throughout the years.  They were a traveling family.  Together, they had seen many places, landforms, ways of life, and  surroundings that were different from the ones where they lived on their small farm in Georgia.  Yet this trip was exciting in a different way.  This one had a totally different purpose.  Thankful for his son, who was willing to drive the entire way, Ezra sat all the way up, stared out the window and thought about how things were changing.  How in two days, life as he had come to know it wouldn’t be the same.  Wearing an enormous smile, he began to daydream.  

“Ezra, let’s get our luggage up to the rooms so we can get freshened up for tonight’s meet and greet,” said Landa, breaking his train of thought.  Truly the one he considered his better half, and 1 year his senior, she always got things moving and got the job done. Ezra being more nostalgic, she was more practical and goal oriented.  

As Darrin and Ezra began carrying the luggage toward the luxurious Drayton Plaza Hotel, they couldn’t help but notice what appeared to be an entourage of guests checking in presumably for the same purpose.  

“Mom, Dad, Darrin, Dawn!” hollered Ezra and Landa’s daughter, Liza spotting them even through the bustle and crowd.  With a large smile on her face, and tears of joy in her eyes, she ran over to them, hugging each one of them tightly.  This was it, the day she had dreamed of for so long was almost here, and she was determined to savor  as much of it as she could.  “Let me take you to the desk and get you checked in,” said Landa, directing her family through the parking lot to the inside of the hotel.

The lobby was an extravagant spectacle, composed of golden chandeliers, a plush red carpet, a marble receptionist desk, and spotless silver elevator doors.  Helping Landa to the love seat located beside the receptionist desk, and retrieving a luggage cart, TJ came back over to the family, placed the family’s luggage on the cart preparing to take it to their room as Darrin completed the check in process. Then, noticing two people in the distance getting off the elevator, TJ excitedly summoned them.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Wiggins, these are my parents, Thomas Sr. and Shyra Boyd,” said TJ smiling.  Adorning a gray suit, with a neatly ironed white shirt, and a tie to match, he resembled TJ, with a few gray hairs peppered in his head and beard. 

“Pleased to meet you.  Thomas Boyd,” he said in a prim, proper manner, extending a friendly hand to shake hands with Ezra.  After reaching in return, and shaking Thomas’ hand, Ezra’s expression went from relaxed to perplexed to astonished.

“I know exactly who you are,” Ezra said, his tone now matter of fact and less friendly.

“You know each other,” inquired TJ excitedly.

“Oh yes, remember Ezra Wiggins I told you about from my middle school and high school years,” said Thomas smiling but shocked.

“Woah! Wait! You’re EZ Bake Ezzy, who had a pink Easy Bake oven when you were 13. I heard Dad and Uncle Tony once stuffed you in a locker,” said TJ laughing hysterically. Thomas and his wife Shyra joined the laughter, as did several of the hotel receptionists overhearing.  When Ezra looked around, even Landa and Dawn snickered somewhat.   

Feeling as small as he did during his high school days, he mustered up as much dignity as he could.  “I’ll be in my room if you need me; long trip,” he said walking swiftly toward the front desk.  

“I got the keys Dad,” called Darrin across the lobby sensing his father’s discomfort.

As if in a robotic sort of way, Ezra switched paths, and making a beeline for the elevators he and Darrin quickly hopped on and disappeared.

“You shouldn’t have done that Thomas,” said Liza, clearly annoyed.

“I didn’t mean any harm baby, it was supposed to be a joke we could all have a good laugh at,” said a perplexed TJ.  Liza’s look let TJ know she was not amused in the least.  He guessed he should have known that, for Liza never called him Thomas unless she was thoroughly upset.
“A laugh at whose expense?” replied Liza growing angrier by the second.

That didn’t stop Thomas, Sr. who was now on his cell phone calling his older brother, Tony, laughing hysterically.  It was unclear what Tony was saying on the phone, but Thomas made no attempt to hide his amusement regarding “Easy Bake Ezzy.”  Each word he spoke causing Liza’s fury to rise like an angry tidal basin after a storm.  TJ tried with facial expressions and hand gestures to communicate to his father that he was going too far, but there was no stopping him.

“Uncle Jim, Aunt Hattie!” shouted TJ excitedly as his great aunt and great uncle entered the lobby.  Seeing them brought him so much joy that he forgot about the chaos his father was creating.  Pulling Liza across the room, he ran to the front door to hug and greet them.  It was especially important to TJ that they be here to share his day.  They, being older members of the family, no longer traveled as they had in their younger days.  “How was your trip?” inquired TJ excitedly as he and Liza led them to the front desk to check in.  

“Well, all right considering.  I guess the world is changing since we used to travel,” said Aunt Hattie, attempting to be positive.

“We were seated in front of this hoodrat who ate tuna fish and dog food, stinking up the plane.  To make it worse, she was listening to this loud music, and refused our numerous requests to turn it down,” said Uncle Jim withholding nothing. “And her shoes, just say I thought the plane would blow up when she took them off,” he added disdainfully.

“Liza!” a joyful voice called from the entrance.  It was Stephanie, Liza and Darrin’s youngest sister.  Forgetting her discomfort, she ran over and threw her arms around Stephanie.  After their joyful encounter, she led Stephanie to the front desk to check in.

“You!” Uncle Jim practically hollered upon seeing Stephanie standing there with Liza.

“Liza, please don’t tell me you know this rude, bougie, old couple! They’re the uppity ones I was telling you about on the plane,” said Stephanie who was never one to hold her tongue.  “They was gettin’ all stupid just because me and Coco was eating on the plane,” she continued holding up her white and brown Chihuahua.  

“That hoodrat was the worst part of our flight,” said Uncle Jim, turning to TJ.

“It all makes sense now,” said Thomas Sr, looking at Liza and Stephanie. “Don’t forget this is EZ Bake’s family we’re talking about,” he added coldly.  

“That does it! I’ve listened to all the foolishness I’m gonna listen to.  Stephanie, check in and come on here.  You people got a lot of nerve.  Evah since we got here, yuh done nuthin’ but judge this family.  My husband and I done traveled for 7 hours and I ain’t fixin’ to listen to it nuh mo’,” said Landa, her southern accent coming out, which only happened when she was super angry.  “There’s a lot more I wanna tell yuh peepa, but I promised the Lawd I’d behave muhself. Liza, you’d be better off not marryin’ in tuh dis!”

And with that, Landa took her granddaughter, Dawn by the hand, and the two of them disappeared onto the elevator.

“I’m sorry Stephanie,” said Liza now blushing.

“Let me help you with your bags,” offered an embarrassed TJ.

“I’m good, I’ll see you in the morning sis.  Love you,” said Stephanie hugging Liza and leaving to go to her room.

Unsettled and unable to think, Liza fled the lobby and went to her car.  TJ started to follow her, but was held up by Thomas Sr. stepping in front of him.

“Son, trust me, you don’t know half of what you think you know about that family.  Don’t marry her,” he tried to persuade TJ, who pushed past him, and jumped in the car with Liza. After what seemed like an eternity of watching TJ and Liza through the window, and it became clear that they would not return any time soon, the families slowly left the lobby and went to their rooms.

Hard as Ezra tried, he couldn’t sleep a wink.  Tossing and turning all night, he had a lot on his mind. Would his daughter be subjected to the same problems he was at the hands of Thomas Boyd?  Was TJ really who he seemed to be?  After all, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.  As night time turned into dawn, Ezra got out of bed, careful not to wake Landa, he was determined to go talk to Liza and make sure she didn’t make such a huge mistake.

Wearing the same t-shirt and basketball shorts from the night before, he made a beeline for the elevator once he was in the hallway.  When he got to the door of Liza’s hotel room, he was surprised to see Thomas and Shyra there too.  

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Thomas in a not so friendly way.  Completely focused on getting to Liza, he nodded agreement.

“Well, we’ve been knocking for 20 minutes, and no answer,” said Shyra matter of factly.

With that, Ezra ran back to the elevator, jumped in and rushed to the front desk, surely they could get into the room if something was wrong.  A million things raced through Ezra’s mind, yet surprisingly, the clerk was smiling when she saw Ezra.

“Where your suit?  De couple already at wedding chapel?” smiled the clerk feeling excited.

“Wedding chapel! What wedding chapel?” demanded Ezra

“Hogan Wedding Chapel on 6 Street,” replied the clerk.  Without another word, Ezra ran for his car, determined to stop the wedding.  Thomas and Shyra followed behind him, yelling after him to wait up, but Ezra was in a zone.  He jumped in his car and as it roared to life, he raced up the street, looking down only to get his cell phone and call Landa.  

Sixth Street NW was a madhouse on this warm, spring day.  There were restaurants on every corner, a post office, a Fedex Kinkos, and even vendors on every corner.  Wasting no time, Ezra ran over to the hot dog vendor across the street.  “Where is Hogan Wedding Chapel?” he demanded.  

“Over there,” said the woman puzzled and pointing further up the road to the left.  Ezra got to the wedding chapel, pulled open the red washed doors, and ran inside.  A few minutes later, Thomas and Shyra too were in the chapel with him.  Inside the chapel was a large maze.  There were 12 different rooms, each one painted a different color.  Not caring that Thomas and Shyra were there, Ezra ran around the chapel looking for the wedding.  Unsuccessful in his attempt, he came back outside to the entrance and flopped down on the steps.

“Dad! Where is she?” yelled Stephanie coming up the sidewalk.

“I don’t know,” said Ezra, resigned and forlorn.

No sooner than he had finished his thought, Uncle Jim, Aunt Hattie, other relatives of the Boyd family, Landa, Darrin, and Dawn came running up the sidewalk.  Seeing Ezra sitting on the steps, there was a prolonged silence.  Coming out of the building, Thomas pointed at Ezra with an accusing finger.

“This is just great Ezra, you’ve always been an overly sensitive punk, who can never take a joke, man up,” hollered Thomas frantically.  Ezra glared at Thomas, feeling both fear and resentment, he couldn’t find the words to say.

“Ezra, stop being such a pansy, look what you caused,” continued Tony, Thomas’s older brother.

“Look you two, that’s my husband, and you two seem stuck in your high school mindset,” said Landa appalled as Ezra looked at the ground.

“See that, had to have wifey defend you.  Be a man for once in your life,” sneered Tony.

“Shut up and let’s find my sister!” shouted Stephanie with angry bulging eyes resting on Tony.

“Now we agree on something.  We need to find my nephew before he marries this,” retorted Tony.

“Exactly, I agree.  Trash could never marry class, Liza’s better off without these retards,” said Darrin, still fully waking up.

“Class?  You wear black nail polish, have a punk of a father, a little ghetto sister, and you’re classy?  On what planet?” retorted Shyra, annoyed that she was awake at this hour.

“Grandma, why did Aunt Stephanie say they’re so beauty when they’re so rude?” asked Dawn.

“Not ‘beauty' child, ‘bougey’,” said Stephanie, still glaring at the Boyd family.  

“Dawn you go back to the room, Stephanie, you stay with Dawn, we need to find Liza and this ain’t no place fo’a chile,” said Landa with serious eyes that now looked like narrow slits.

Suddenly, Liza and TJ emerged from the chapel smiling and carefree, they walked past the families without noticing they were there.

“Liza, what’s going on,” demanded Ezra

“Son, where have y’all been?” chimed in Thomas.

“Last night, you all were rude and disrespectful to each other.  It was shameful and distasteful and we didn’t wanna share our joyful day with any of you.  Mr. and Mrs. Boyd leading their family in ridiculing my father! My father storming off like a child instead of talking it out.  Y’all stressed us, so we left,” said Liza unapologetically.

“Look, it’s official now, we are Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Boyd, Jr.” added TJ holding up a signed marriage certificate.

“Now, we’re leaving for our honeymoon in the morning, y’all do whatever you want! By the way, I’m five months pregnant with a baby girl.  Her name is Thomara after her grandfathers, Thomas and Ezra.  And if you all can’t put your differences aside for the sake of THIS family, we’ll have to keep Thomara at a distance.  We are her parents, and we want what’s best for her,” said Liza with tears forming in her eyes.

Dumbfounded and clearly feeling ashamed, the families stood silent for what seemed like an eternity.  Finally, Landa broke the silence.  “Liza, Shugah, if yuh don’t mind, we still got that ballroom rented till tummaruh night, let us give y’all a reception,” said Landa softly with her eyes on her daughter and new son-in-law.

“I don’t know mama, we came here for OUR big day and you all made it about you,” said Liza still wounded by all that had transpired.

“Honey, IF and that’s a big IF our families can be civil, let’s stay and celebrate with them.  It’s not every day that we get married and have our families here.  Even if it is less than ideal,” said a thoughtful TJ.

“OK! I will give it ONE more try! Any more drama and we’re out of here!  I’ll see you all at the hotel!” scolded Liza walking toward TJ’s red Cadillac which he had spray painted with “JUST MARRIED.”  As the Cadillac sped off, the families cautiously began to converse.

“Shyra, you gon’ help plan the reception for tumarruh ain’t you?” asked Landa walking back toward her car.

“Well … uh … sure, Linda,” stammered Shyra.

“It’s Landa, an’ thanks,” replied Landa smiling a genuine smile for the first time since arriving.  

“Uh … sorry Landa,” said Shyra still struggling to speak, processing all that was transpiring.

“I have an idea, tonight, we’ll go out on the town.  Jim used to bring me here all the time, and it’ll be like magic,” offered Aunt Hattie.  The families stated a timid agreement and returned to their cars.  

The only one who hadn’t spoken was Ezra.  His mind was much too full to think about sightseeing.  Ever since being bullied in the eighth grade, Ezra hated Thomas and Tony with a disdain that ran through his blood deeper than the waters of the Nile river.  It was as if he was now forced to tolerate Thomas and Tony being in his life.  There would be birthday parties, school events, holidays, prom, and more.  He had never imagined having someone like Thomas in his life, now he felt forced by their children’s marriage, and their coming granddaughter.

Riding back to the hotel was silent in Ezra’s car, as he and Darrin passed by monuments and museums that would usually interest them.  But this time, they barely seemed to notice as this was a bit much to process.  

When they pulled back up to the hotel, Aunt Hattie and Uncle Jim were already waiting out front with the 20 passenger van they rented, and the Boyd family had piled in.  Also in the van were Dawn, Landa, and Stephanie.

“Dad, this is important for Liza, I think I’m gonna go too.  You should join us,” suggested Darrin taking off his seatbelt.

“You go on son, I got some stuff to sort out in my own mind,” said Ezra, putting the car in park and leaning back uncomfortably in his seat.  As Darrin jumped into the van and it roared to life, it seemed the families were gone in an instant.  The van disappeared over the concrete hill, getting smaller and smaller until it was completely gone from Ezra’s sight. 

 Feeling all alone and having a lot on his mind, Ezra went back to his hotel room.  The freshly cleaned plush red carpet, the immaculate white sheets on the king sized bed, and the 24 inch screen television which surrounded even fancier oak tables and dressers were the furthest things from his mind.  Feeling tears swell up in his eyes, he grabbed the hotel key, and went to the bar next door.

FINNIGAN’S RESTAURANT and PUB read the sign on top of the small green building.  Walking into the bar, Ezra was taken aback by the sights and smells.  There were pool tables, a small set of bowling lanes, small tables to eat at, and the smell of frying foods filled the air.  Ezra sat on a black leather stool in front of the granite top bar, and placed a drink order for a Lewis Light Beer.  After getting his beer in a mug that was so big, some people would need two hands to lift it, he began taking massive gulps.  Staring out the window, his mind was full and his heart equally overflowing.

Feeling self conscious, and not wanting to be the center of attention, Ezra quickly took his beer and moved to a table in the back corner of the pub along the periphery.   Placing his back against his black leather chair, he placed the beer on the table and stared out of the window located beside him.  Surrounded by many other tourists, still he felt wounded and alone.

“Ezra, you okay man?” said a calm voice placing a friendly arm around his shoulder.  Feeling too overwhelmed to look up, he hung his head.

“We didn’t go sightseeing with the family either because we were worried about you man.  You do know everything is gonna be okay don’t you?” he heard from the other side of him.  Ezra, feeling choked up, and unable to speak sat stunned as a painful tear slid down his cheek.  Mustering up the courage to look to his sides, he saw Thomas and Tony standing there.

“Ezra, I’m sorry,” began Thomas.

“Sorry for what?  Are you sorry because there’s remorse, or are you sorry because we share a granddaughter now and you don’t want the awkward vibe between the families?” inquired Ezra.

“The truth is, it’s a combination of both,” said Tony, joining in the conversation.

“Well I need you both to understand some things.  I’m angry and hurt.  You and your family have mistreated my family since we arrived.  You both were bullies to me from eighth grade to twelfth grade, ruining my educational experience.  And now, because we share a granddaughter and your emotions got stirred by TJ’s speech, we’re supposed to just drop everything and pretend there’s a perfect dynamic that’s not there?” asked an unimpressed Ezra.

“Maybe it would help if I told you the full truth.  When I saw you here, I didn’t want TJ to marry Liza.  But the love they have for one another is true and sincere.  And we don’t have the right to stand in the way of that.  Also, your kin is now our kin, and we have to do what’s in her best interest, it’s only right,” began Thomas.

“And truthfully Ezra, those mean things we did to you when we were children, were out of jealousy,” continued Tony.

“Ain’t nobody jealous of me,” said Ezra cynically.

“Ezra, you were every teacher’s favorite student.  You were the one with the A plus work, while the rest of us just turned in something to say it was done.  Everything I wasn’t you were, and I did some mean things to hide my own insecurity,” confessed Thomas.

“Thomas, I was actually the jealous one,” said Ezra with honest sincerity as he began to open up.  “You see, you were the popular jock who was loved by everyone, and most importantly, you had family.  Your father came to every one of your basketball games, your mother, aunts, uncles, cousins, always came to see you play.  I was a foster kid who had no one.  They barely even talked to me unless they wanted to use me to get a good grade on a project, ” he finished somberly.  

“That family placed a lot of pressure on me bro.  Everyone was on my back to be like Ezra who won a full scholarship to Logan State University, remember?’ replied Thomas.

“I do,” said Ezra. “Maybe I should be the one more forthcoming now.  At age 16, I still wasn’t adopted and the reality set in that I wouldn’t be.  I worked so hard in school because that was the only way I could go to college.  Without a scholarship, I wouldn’t have anything,” he continued feeling both confident and nervous at the same time.  

“I didn’t know that,” said Tony sympathetically.

“When I was put into the Teens Living Independently Program, all they gave us was an efficiency apartment, and food vouchers.   I met Landa, who was another teenager that realized she would not be adopted.  We pressed our way through college together and fell in love in the process.  We were the only family each other knew.  After graduation, we eloped and got married in a ceremony with just us because we had no one else in the world.  A year later, our Liza was born, then came Darrin, then Stephanie, who has now made us grandparents.  I want what’s best for my Liza, and I realize I have years of unresolved traumas,” confided Ezra.

“I truly am sorry Ezra for what we put you through, I guess you were just your own man.  No men I knew had easy bake ovens when we were growing up, that was why I teased you about it.  It’s not an excuse nor does it make it right. I just didn’t know how people with more eccentric personalities acted.  But I really am sorry,” said Tony.

“Tony, do you and Thomas know why I had an easy bake oven?” asked Ezra rhetorically.  “It was because I was staying with a foster family in a home with a single parent who suffered mental illness.  A lot of nights if she wasn’t in the mood, she wouldn’t cook and we would go hungry.  When I got my hands on that Easy bake oven, I could easily make food for me and my foster siblings, so we had something in our stomachs on those days,” said Ezra.

Not realizing that four hours had passed, Ezra’s cell phone rang, it was Landa.

“Ezra, where are yuh?” she inquired, “We been lookin’ foh yuh,”

“I’ll be back Landa, I’m out with family,” said Ezra smiling and looking at Thomas who was smiling back.  

 

Author's Note

What do you think of the content?
How is the rising action?
How are the details and character development?

Reviews

[JayG]

• What do you think of the content?

You’re asking the right questions, but you’ve missed something critical, because of what I call, The Great Misunderstanding. You’re working hard, and for you, the story works. But, we’ll not address the problem we don’t see as being one. And the reason you miss this one is that without realizing it, you come to the story with two things your reader lacks, Context and intent.

Before you read the first word, you know the character’s, their mood, what’s driving them to act, and even what’s about to happen. So for you, every word acts as a pointer to memories, images, and story, stored and waiting in your mind. So of course it works for you. Anything you left out because it seems obvious, will be filled in as you read, and the loss is never noticed.

But what about the reader, who arrives not knowing where we are in time and space, what’s going on, or even whose skin we wear? For the reader, every word acts as a pointer to memories, images, and story, stored and waiting in *YOUR* mind. And with you not there to ask when it’s read....

So…how did you end up in this situation? Simple. Like everyone else, you forgot some critical items, like the fact that professional expertise is acquired in-addition to the set of basic skills we’re given in school, as they ready for the needs of employers. And what kind of writing do employers need of us? Mostly, reports, papers, and letters—which is why you were assigned so many reports and essays over the years. In other words, nonfiction.

But…the goal of nonfiction is to inform, clearly and concisely. Its focus is on facts, and the presentation is author-centric. The narrator, whose presentation cannot be heard, and so has a dispassionate “voice,” explains and reports, primarily in overview and summation.

But the goal of fiction? E. L. Doctorow put it well with: “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” But did any teacher mention that? In fact, did they mention any of the basics, like what a scene on the page is, and how it differs from one on stage and screen? No.

So the problems you face aren't your fault. Nor are they related to talent, or how well you write. It is, as I said, The Great Misunderstanding. And because of it, we graduate, not realizing that we are exactly as qualified to write fiction as to perform an appendectomy.

To see what you’ve been missing, lets look at the opening as a reader, knowing only what the words suggest, based on the reader’s background, not your intent:

• “Come on Ezra, we need to get the rest of the luggage to our room so we can get ready for tonight,” said Landa, breaking his train of thought.

Uhh…breaking whose train of thought? And what was he focused on? You know. The two of them know. But shouldn’t the one you wrote it for be in on the secret? Remember, there is no second first-impression, so clarifying later helps not at all.

We don’t know who or where we are, so the words provide no context. These could be two college students arriving on vacation. It could be two oldsters arriving at an assisted living facility. But not knowing that, how can the reader place themselves into the mood of their protagonist? And, which of them is the protagonist?

Perfectly plain to you, but words-in-a-row of uncertain meaning for the reader.

• A charcoal black complexion, standing at five feet even, wearing a neatly ironed green polo shirt and smugly pressed khaki shorts, Ezra snapped out of his daydreaming and helped his son, Darrin, carry the family’s luggage consisting of five full sized suitcases, four shared by his wife Landa, and six year old granddaughter, Dawn, and one shared by him and Darrin.

This is a report, given by an external observer. Would the story change in the slightest were they to have six, or four, suitcases? No. Would it change were the pants long, or another color? No one is making decisions based on that, or even paying attention to it. So, why give irrelevant visual details in a medium that presents no picture or sound? Unless a given line develops character, moves the plot, or meaningfully sets the scene it has no place in the story because it slows the narrative and dilutes impact.

The short, bad news, version: We can’t use the techniques of another medium, like verbal storytelling, which is a performance art, in our medium.

In practical terms it means you need to dig into the tricks the pros take for granted. And that, I can help with.

First, though, let me say that if you are meant to write, you’ll enjoy the learning. It’s like going backstage, and filled with, “But that’s so…. How could I have not seen something so obvious, myself? That’s fun for the first ten times or so.

And, when you do master those skills, the act writing becomes a LOT more fun—more like living the story than making up, “This happens…then that happens…and after that…”

The library’s fiction writing section can be a huge resource. Personally? I’d suggest starting with Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, which recently came out of copyright protection. It's the best I've found, to date, at imparting and clarifying the "nuts-and-bolts" issues of creating a scene that will sing to the reader. The address of an archive site where you can read or download it free is just below. Copy/paste the address into the URL window of any Internet page and hit Return to get there.

https://archive.org/details/TechniquesOfTheSellingWriterCUsersvenkatmGoogleDrive4FilmMakingBsc_ChennaiFilmSchoolPractice_Others

And for an overview of the issues to be found in those books, you might check a few articles in my WordPress writing blog.

So… I know this is anything but what you were hoping to hear, especially given how well the story worked when you read it. But since we won’t fix what we don’t see as being a problem, and, you asked, I thought you would want to know.

And since it’s a problem you share with pretty much everyone to comes to writing, don’t let it throw you. Hang in there, and keep on writing. If nothing else, it keeps us off the streets at night.

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

[Sauti_Ukweli]

Jay, thank you for your review and taking the time to read my writing and point out the things that I would never be able to see being as though I am the one writing this. Sometimes we tend to forget that the other person is not in our minds, which is why I asked the tough questions, to get an outside perspective on my story, so I will know where I need to work in revising it. And I thank you for your honesty.

As for your statement "So… I know this is anything but what you were hoping to hear," anyone who knows me well, knows better haha. If it is the truth, it is what I was hoping to hear. I am one who can take constructive criticism and welcomes it. It is the only way I can improve. Reviews like yours tell me, yes this works or no, this doesn't. So please, don't ever be afraid to tell me the truth. I am myself brutally honest and ask for the same in return. I am on here to grow, improve, and make my writing what it ought to be, to really draw in an audience, not "feel good."

I am saying all that to say thank you for the feedback, and helping open my eyes so I can make the necessary changes.

Regards,

Sauti Ukweli