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#1 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 12:02 AM - Thread Starter
 
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Hey buddies,

I don't know where we stand right now. I'm dying to read more of Unagidon's novel! Red, I'm headed over to the old thread to catch up on Lisa and the baby.

I'd like to try to squeeze in some more time for twilight girl this week, but we are currently in Kansas City and the ILs are

So, we'll see, but, I have had a sort of epiphany with how to plan this out. I think

Cheers!
Judi
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#2 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 12:31 AM
 
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I'm going through some serious issues with my son right now and haven't been in the frame of mind to write : We think he is bipolar (he is threatening suicide)

I don't know why I told you that(TMI?), it has nothing to do with 'novel buddies', but that is why I haven't been around in that capacity. I am still keeping up with you guys and can't wait to read more

                                Whatever will be, already is...
 
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#3 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 12:34 AM - Thread Starter
 
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Red,

It's good to read this from the beginning! I like how Lisa is thinking forward about what she is going to do, but also still waiting, assuming the mother is coming back even though she is considering that she might not.

"Pushing her own dinner to the side, and popping the only full bottle of formula in the diaper bag into the waiting, tiny mouth, she began speaking in that sing-song way people sometimes use on babies." [ would change the last bit to something like ...sing-song way people seem to universally lapse into when addressing babies ... or something a little more expressive than "sometimes use on babies."]

When the infant[']s screams became louder, rounded the end of the aisle, and hit a new peak in the area of the movie magazines, just at the other end of the short row of paperbacks, Lisa peeked over the top of the pirate book. Bouncing a tiny, but very vocal baby irritably in her arms, was a girl of maybe 15 or 16, wearing a tiny black t-shirt that had “Naughty Girl” across the front of it in glitter. Her muddy brown hair hung lank and greasy...

She had passed many lonely rainy afternoons, rocking first one baby, and then another, singing them lullabies she made up on the spot [like this! really remings us without telling that there hadn't been anyone to teach Lisa lullabies or sing them to her]

Agree with Unagidon's previous comments about Lisa and the girl yelling back and forth to each other over the baby's screams. Seems they should be calmer, quieter. Well, Lisa should anyway, the girl is probably frazzled.

A few people slowed as they went by the aisle, peering in their direction as if they were expecting to see some poor infant being murdered. [don't like the murdered here at all. Nasty image. Maybe abused or something that doesn't quite suggest infanticide.]

Well, almost silence. Little huffs and sobs still wracked the small, damp body. A man in the next aisle muttered, “Thank God!” loud enough for the two women to hear, and a woman was heard shushing him. [Like all of this]

I like ending it where she leaves the store, worried that she will be caught for kidnapping.

I like it. It's a good hook for the first chapter. I think as you work on this you'll go back and edit and maybe flesh out some things, but overall, good hook. I'm ready to read more!

Cheers!
Judi
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#4 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 12:36 AM - Thread Starter
 
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BelovedK,

I'm sorry for what you're going through with your son. I hope you find some answers and strategies very soon. Hopefully we'll still be around when you find time/motivation to get back to your novel.


Judi
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#5 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 08:29 AM
 
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Originally Posted by twilight girl View Post
Hopefully we'll still be around when you find time/motivation to get back to your novel.
Thank you me too.

                                Whatever will be, already is...
 
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#6 of 10 Old 10-16-2006, 10:35 PM
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Kelly, I'm so sorry about your son. It's so tough to have to go through something like that with a child of your own.
That's more important than anything else.

Twilight Girl, I've been busy writing and rewriting. I'm entering the novel into a contest with a deadline of Dec 1st. It needs to be a work in progress, but I need to work our the ending, flesh out...everything, etc. And I need an outline and a letter saying WHY they should pick me. (www.exeter.edu search for george Bennett fellowship)


So, I'll be working on all of that and posting a passage I'm struggling with later in the week, too.
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#7 of 10 Old 10-17-2006, 01:05 PM - Thread Starter
 
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Very cool, Red! Good luck!!
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#8 of 10 Old 10-19-2006, 10:50 AM
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Ok, I feel like a thread hog. So I started a thread called 'Lisa'. Lisa That way we can still talk about our plans and crit for people without everyone having to scroll through pages of my story over and over. And those who are interested will be able to find it.

I changed some stuff. *sigh* I still have more, but it's gets a bit better every day. I HAVE to move on, I need 50 pages ready to go AND an OUTLINE. THe outline terrifies me, because the story is evolving, changing. Lisa's quick confrontation with Michlle, the young mother, was just a fast thing, and now I think it neeeds to be ...more. Maybe not so tidy and neat, more frightening. Not sure how it's going to work out, so it's hard to outline it. :/
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#9 of 10 Old 10-27-2006, 12:35 AM
 
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Please be nice, but totally honest - this is the first few paragraphs..I know I will end up editing it more and more (just can't leave well enough alone sometimes) but I do want to know if it catches anyones attention..does it make you want to read more? or do you want to throw up?

......

Returning Christmas gifts was not Matty Bell’s style. However, neither was the multitude of frumpy sweatshirts and sweaters that her family and friends had bestowed upon her this year. To add injury to insult, just before the holidays, she was reorged out of her job of five years. And if those weren’t clear enough signs to tell Matty things had taken a wrong turn in her life, certainly the empty seat next to her on the plane was a solid one. Something was deeply amiss, and as she sunk into her window seat and gazed out into the pre morning sky, she felt it now, heavily in her heart.

From the outside one would venture to say that she was just letting herself go, getting caught up in her work, and didn’t mind that there wasn’t a man in her life. Unfortunately they would be dead wrong. Sure, Matty had let her blonde hair slump, her clothes became nondescript, her spirits stifled, muted. But it wasn’t all her fault. No, correction. It wasn’t her fault at all. She gritted her teeth and held her hands tightly in her lap, determined not to think about that night. She had become accustomed to calling it the worst turning point in her life. Not wanting to dwell in the past again, she forced herself to relax, look around, and become a part of the outside world today.

Looking up she saw the long line of passengers waiting to find their seats, get situated, and head off on the long flight out to San Diego. It’s a vacation, Matty informed herself, and even though you’re jobless, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. Five years in the same job had secured her with a nice severance pay. Six months in fact. It was a nice way to say thank you for your commitment, but we don’t need you anymore. It was probably the best way to loose your job. However, Matty knew the truth. She had stopped working there two years ago. She had in fact stopped living two years ago.

Glancing up again to see how the line was progressing, she met the stare of a man in line, one that looked much like him, which made her heart jump with fear and her breath catch in her throat. In all of her daydreams of what she would do if she ever came face to face with him again, this was not one of those reactions. Instead of meeting him with anger and rage, she was frozen in fear. Her fright must have registered on her face because immediately the man in line held up his hands apologetically. Embarrassed, Matty quietly cursed at herself for letting her imagination get the better of her, and shacking her head, she tried to smile back, if only a little. He did look like him, but she knew it wasn’t him. Yet old habits died hard. She was still haunted by him. Still saw his face every time she closed her eyes.

Matty returned her gaze to the ground crew outside and then to the rising sun. Matty couldn’t remember the last time she caught a man looking at her and it didn’t make her heart jump with fear. Every glance. Every stare. It made her feel singled out from the crowd. Naked when fully clothed. Although it was getting easier as the months went on, she still couldn’t help the nervous uneasiness she felt most of the day. Matty was always relieved to come home at the end of the day, making damn sure her door was securely locked. Living in a state of constant fear, she thought, was fast becoming her new way of life. However, it hadn’t always been this way.

There were many years of clueless inhibition, playfully flirting back with batted eyelashes and glancing over her shoulder one last time before rounding a corner. It was fun, she remembered, to be the center of attention. Her long wavy blonde hair and curves in all the right places had made sure of that. It was easy to move to the front of the line at night clubs or get the best table at her favorite restaurant when there was a man to toy with. Matty enjoyed stringing men along left and right, knowing full well that it would never go any further than that. It was a game she played and it was exhilarating.

However, now, Matty was more than cautious with men. No longer did she yearn to be the center of attention. She tried desperately to avoid being seen by anyone. She had become accustom to tucking her wild hair into hats or hiding its beauty in a messy haphazard ponytail at the nape of her neck. For the remainder of her appearance, she didn’t dare wear anything tight or revealing. On the contrary. Frumpy baggy shirts and long black pants, ending with low or no heal at all were her new wardrobe. The only part of her skin that she allowed to show was her face, and that too she protected with a downward cast.

If someone thought she was trying to become invisible, they would be hitting the nail on the head. The more invisible Matty could make herself, she thought, the safer she would be. Furthermore, Matty comforted herself, if no one saw her beauty, saw her as a woman to be desired, she could protect herself from ever being hurt again.

With that thought she curled her legs under her, tucked her hair under her Nationals Baseball cap, and tried to rest against the window. Even though she was still in really good shape physically, she had let herself go on the inside, was now jobless, and she didn’t have anyone special in her life. She tried dating, but it always ended before it got serious. She just wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. Wasn’t ready to tell all. Matty didn’t like anyone what she had gone through. The details. There was only one other person who knew the truth. Matty knew one day she’d tell her story, but not now. It was something she was dreading, however, nothing she had to do right now. No, right now she was determined to find her ability to live life again. That was the whole point of this vacation.


I have more of it online: http://www.magothydesigns.com/write/LiLaLo.html
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#10 of 10 Old 10-27-2006, 11:04 PM
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Ok, nice but honest!


I like it. It does make me want to read more, to find out what happens to Matty. I think, before it would be publishable, you need a stronger hook. (I found the beginning of my book, well, ok, someone else found the beginning of my book in the third chapter!) You may have the perfect start, but it's just not at the beginning, yet. Keep writing, it will all come.


I've included my suggestions in brackets.


Quote:
Originally Posted by MommyHawk View Post

......

Returning Christmas gifts was not Matty Bell’s style. However, neither was the multitude of frumpy sweatshirts and sweaters that her family and friends had bestowed upon her this year. To add injury to insult, just before the holidays, she was reorged out of her job of five years. And if those weren’t clear enough signs to tell Matty things had taken a wrong turn in her life, certainly the empty seat next to her on the plane was a solid one. Something was deeply amiss, and as she sunk into her window seat and gazed out into the pre morning sky, she felt it now, heavily in her heart.

[I'd spell out reorganized, or use another term. And first I thought she was returning her gifts, but she's on a plane. I wouldn't cut, just movet things about.]

From the outside one would venture to say that she was just letting herself go, getting caught up in her work, and didn’t mind that there wasn’t a man in her life. Unfortunately they would be dead wrong. Sure, Matty had let her blonde hair slump, her clothes became nondescript, her spirits stifled, muted. But it wasn’t all her fault. No, correction. It wasn’t her fault at all. She gritted her teeth and held her hands tightly in her lap, determined not to think about that night. She had become accustomed to calling it the worst turning point in her life. Not wanting to dwell in the past again, she forced herself to relax, look around, and become a part of the outside world today.

[I don't think hair can slump. You've got mixed tenses in this sentence, " let her blonde hair slump, her clothes became nondescript, her spirits stifled, muted" I'd go with "calling it the worst night," or "the biggest turning point in her life." I related to the last sentence, 'become part of the outside world."!]


Looking up she saw the long line of passengers waiting to find their seats, get situated, and head off on the long flight out to San Diego. It’s a vacation, Matty informed herself, and even though you’re jobless, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. Five years in the same job had secured her with a nice severance pay. Six months in fact. It was a nice way to say thank you for your commitment, but we don’t need you anymore. It was probably the best way to loose your job. However, Matty knew the truth. She had stopped working there two years ago. She had in fact stopped living two years ago.

['lose your job' not 'loose'.]
Glancing up again to see how the line was progressing, she met the stare of a man in line, one that looked much like him, which made her heart jump with fear and her breath catch in her throat. In all of her daydreams of what she would do if she ever came face to face with him again, this was not one of those reactions. Instead of meeting him with anger and rage, she was frozen in fear. Her fright must have registered on her face because immediately the man in line held up his hands apologetically. Embarrassed, Matty quietly cursed at herself for letting her imagination get the better of her, and shacking her head, she tried to smile back, if only a little. He did look like him, but she knew it wasn’t him. Yet old habits died hard. She was still haunted by him. Still saw his face every time she closed her eyes.

[mattie is on the plane, with an empty seat beside her. Not in line. I know, I never notice these things in my own work either! 'shaking her head'

Went back, see now that you mean that matty was thinking about having an empty seat inteh plane besdie her. You'd need to make that part clearer.]

Matty returned her gaze to the ground crew outside and then to the rising sun. Matty [since she's the only character so far, use 'she' ]couldn’t remember the last time she caught a man looking at her and [sub 'that' for 'and' ] it didn’t make her heart jump with fear. Every glance. Every stare. It made her feel singled out from the crowd. Naked when fully clothed. Although it was getting easier as the months went on, she still couldn’t help the nervous uneasiness she felt most of the day. Matty [she] was always relieved to come home at the end of the day, making damn sure her door was securely locked. Living in a state of constant fear, she thought, was fast becoming her new way of life. However, it hadn’t always been this way.

There were many years of clueless inhibition, playfully flirting back with batted eyelashes and glancing over her shoulder one last time before rounding a corner. It was fun, she remembered, to be the center of attention. Her long wavy blonde hair and curves in all the right places had made sure of that. It was easy to move to the front of the line at night clubs or get the best table at her favorite restaurant when there was a man to toy with. Matty enjoyed stringing men along left and right, knowing full well that it would never go any further than that. It was a game she played and it was exhilarating.

{ I might be worng on this one. I think you mean she was uninhibitited]

However, now, Matty was more than cautious with men. No longer did she yearn to be the center of attention. She tried desperately to avoid being seen by anyone. She had become accustom [-ed] to tucking her wild hair into hats or hiding its beauty in a messy haphazard ponytail at the nape of her neck. For the remainder of her appearance, she didn’t dare wear anything tight or revealing. On the contrary. Frumpy baggy shirts and long black pants, ending with low or no heal at all were her new wardrobe. The only part of her skin that she allowed to show was her face, and that too {I'd take out the 'too'] she protected with a downward cast.

If someone thought she was trying to become invisible, they would be hitting the nail on the head. The more invisible Matty could make herself, she thought, the safer she would be. Furthermore, Matty comforted herself, if no one saw her beauty, saw her as a woman to be desired, she could protect herself from ever being hurt again.

[I'd lose the first sentence. The paragraph is more powerful without it.]

With that thought she curled her legs under her, tucked her hair under her Nationals Baseball cap, and tried to rest against the window. Even though she was still in really good shape physically, she had let herself go on the inside, was now jobless, and she didn’t have anyone special in her life. She tried dating, but it always ended before it got serious. She just wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. Wasn’t ready to tell all. Matty didn’t like [tell not like] anyone what she had gone through. The details. There was only one other person who knew the truth. Matty knew one day she’d tell her story, but not now. It was something she was dreading, however, nothing she had to do right now. No, right now she was determined to find her ability to live life again. That was the whole point of this vacation.


I have more of it online: http://www.magothydesigns.com/write/LiLaLo.html
Interesting. I like Matty, and tha'ts one of the first things you need to do, get the audience to like your character.

You need some dialogue or something to break it up. It's very early in the book for so much narrative. Hard to keep an agent involved.

I'd like to read more, to see where it goes, what happens next.

It's good to have another poster!!! Lets' see more.
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