Monday, November 26, 2007

Love Worth Fire

Camille Cannon (Eide)
EXTREME KEYBOARDING

(This is an excerpt from the middle of the book. We saw an early chapter here.)

No letters were exchanged in the weeks that followed. Maggie didn’t have time. Kirkhaven’s annual summer festival, held in early July this year, was about to take place and she was in a flap to get ready.

Claire, Davy, Jack, Douglas, Callie, and Hannah all arrived Friday before the festival to attend the evening events, which were mainly a barbeque and field games in the village. Claire stayed with Maggie to put the finishing touches on her berry concoctions to sell at the farm stand on Saturday. Callie and Hannah squabbled over who would win first prize in the fancy dress contest.

With a steady summer rain making a mess of the football field, the Friday night games were canceled, bringing Davy and the boys back to the farm with nothing else to do but help pack pies and jam jars into crates. Ian thought Davy was even more disappointed than the boys were. [Establish POV sooner. Although maybe it wouldn’t be an issue if I was more familiar with the characters.]

He was a different man, his brother in law. Ian had spoken to him a number of times since the spring, since he returned home to his family in Glasgow, and each time he thought Davy seemed more at peace, more attentive to his family, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t found steady work for the first several months. Whatever caused Davy’s new outlook, it didn’t seem to be just a passing phase. Ian hoped to get a chance to talk with him at length while he was here.

Saturday morning, the smell of breakfast cooking met Ian as he climbed the drive to the main house. He spent the night at the cottage, giving up his room to Claire and Davy. Maggie’s voice carried above the clamor as he entered the kitchen, calling for someone to find another girdle for her scones. She was nearly bursting, never happier than when she had a houseful to feed.

Ian groaned at the staggering pile of kippers on the table, fried in butter until crisp, and rashers of bacon mounded in another heap on the bunker. Claire stood over a bubbling pot of porridge, stirring with Maggie’s old, blackened spurtle.

“Ian, here—take this over to the bunker. Don’t drop it.” Claire smiled.

He heaved the gurgling pot across the kitchen with a loud groan. “What’s in here, stones? It weighs more than you do. No wonder you can’t lift it.”

“Funny. I wonder where you’d get an idea like that. No, it’s just oats and water this time. Don’t fash yourself; I’ve kept a sharp eye on it.”

Ian chuckled.

Davy sauntered in, hooked an arm around Claire and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him with a playful frown, then smiled and slipped an arm around his waist. It was good to see that.

Ian turned away. The simple endearment implied an intimacy that tugged at his chest, tugged hard. Without warning, Jamie’s warm eyes and tender smile came to mind.

[I think I’d skip the line “It was good to see that.” To me, it sort of contradicts his turning away. “It was good to see that” leaves a warm, cozy feeling. Then he turns away and the affectionate gesture is tugging hard at his heart. That’s a switch of emotion. Leave it more to the reader to interpret how he felt by his reaction.]

“Ian!” He turned and Davy tossed him the truck keys. “The truck is parked out back, mon. All ready for Maggie’s . . . uh . . .” Davy held up a jar and frowned at the clotted contents, then turned to Ian and mouthed, “What is this stuff?”

Ian grinned. “Jam, I’m almost certain. Let’s load it up then.”

“What’s that?” Maggie whirled around and glared in Davy’s general direction. “No! Not ‘til ye’ve had breakfast. Drop that crate, David Kendal—did ye not hear me?”

How Maggie knew Davy had a crate in his hands was anyone’s guess.

Maggie continued scolding as she scooped the girdle scones into a basket. Only two landed on the floor. Not bad.

Footsteps thundered from the stairs in the hall, growing louder until Jack and Douglas burst in, squeezing through the narrow kitchen doorway at the same time. Jack shouldered his younger brother aside with a laugh and bolted for the bunker where Maggie had a stack of plates waiting. Douglas lunged at Jack, but Claire stepped in and raised the black gooey spoon at Douglas in warning.

“It’s just a joke, ma.” Jack grinned at his scowling brother. “Dougie knows I’m first.”

“Pish! There’s plenty, no need for all that. Eat now, laddies—ye’ve loads to do!”

Claire left to round up the girls. Ian dished up a plate and edged himself in at the table next to his oldest nephew. Jack spied the truck key the moment Ian laid it down and turned to Maggie.

“I’ll drive the truck to the village for you, Grannie,” Jack said around a mouthful of food.

“Och, will ye now?”

Maggie was surprisingly fast for a nearly blind old woman. From the corner of his eye, Ian saw her hand reaching for the key, but another, smaller hand coming from behind him was quicker. The sound of giggling brought Ian spinning around in his seat. The giggling was coming from behind Claire, who dangled the truck key above Ian’s head. Smart woman; she’d learned quickly while Ian was away.

“Ian and Davy can take the truck and Jack and Douglas will ride in the back. Maggie, you and the girls can come with me in the station wagon.”

Maggie planted her fists on her hips. “I’ll go where I fancy. It’s my truck.”

More giggling erupted from Claire’s backside.

Ian winked at his sister and cleared his throat. “I heard there’s some very serious competition at the fancy dress contest this year. It’s a shame there won’t be any faeries.”

Callie slipped out from hiding behind her mom with a giggle and scurried away to get her breakfast, but Hannah emerged in a heartbeat and darted over to Ian. “No, look—I’m a faerie princess, Uncle Ian. Look at me, see?” She twirled in her gown to prove it.

Douglas snorted, and Hannah turned to her brother. “I am a faerie.”

He snickered. “You’re just a wee a lass in a purple frock. What happened to your wings, princess?”

Hannah’s mouth fell open and she turned pleading eyes to Ian. He lifted her to his knee and turned to Douglas. “Where’s your imagination, mon? Now then, I see a bonny faerie princess here who doesn’t need wings. All she needs is some faerie dust—right here and here.” Ian smiled as he drew a circle on each of her round cheeks with his finger.

“Do you have faerie dust, Uncle Ian?” Hannah asked, eyes growing wide.

Jack and Douglas hooted.

“No, but I know where you can get some. They have some very special faerie dust at the face painting booth, just for you.”

Claire, who had been watching this exchange with a smile, cocked her head at Ian.

“Is it purple and sparkly?” Hannah asked.

“Aye, extra sparkly.” he said with a chuckle. Above his niece’s head, Claire’s eyes glistened.

“Well I’ll get my face painted too then,” Callie chimed in. “But no sparkles—I’m a pirate.”

[Some cute moments there. But I have to ask, does this scene move the story forward? You can answer better than me. It’s hard to judge, cutting into the middle. But it seems like a few incidents without much focus.]

The entire family helped get Maggie’s booth set up and ready for business, then they found a spot near the fountain in the center of the village and watched the parade together. The girls waved and giggled. Their excitement was contagious and Ian wondered how Jamie would like this. He’d watched her with her students, and knew she would have as much fun seeing the awe and delight bubbling out of these girls as he did.

The girls would adore her. They all would, actually.

After the parade, Jack and Douglas checked out all the food booths while they waited for the next round of field games to begin. Ian joined Claire and Davy as they took the girls around to the different game booths in the school yard. Claire let Hannah and Callie talk her into getting her face painted along with them.

As he and Davy waited for the girls, Ian’s thoughts returned to Jamie. It was so easy to picture her here, a part of this quirky, loving family. It was also easy to imagine her with kids of her own.

Their own.

He tried to listen to what Davy was saying, but the stirring image wouldn’t leave, suddenly wouldn’t let him breathe.

That’s what I want. To share a life with Jamie. To give her the family and everything else her heart desires. That’s all I want, Lord. She’s all I want.

What did Jamie want? What were her feelings for him? There had been a number of times when a hint, a promise of something very tender in Jamie’s eyes gripped his heart and held him fast.

At that moment, he’d give anything to see that look again. Just once.

“Hey! Didn’t you hear me?” Davy grinned at him. “You’re somewhere else. Aye—I know the look.”

Ian frowned. “What?” He glanced at his watch. It was 4:00am in Oregon.

Davy chuckled. “You’re trolling across Loch Lomond, or casting off the banks of the Forth.” He leaned back against a tree. “Whenever you want to go fishing, just say the word. I’ll go with you. The boys too.”

“The boys go fishing with you now?” Ian asked.

“Aye. Every time.”

Ian nodded.

Davy leaned closer and spoke low. “Neither of them catches much. I don’t know why they keep wanting to go.”

“Don’t you now? I think maybe you do.” Ian turned his gaze to the booth where Claire, Callie and Hannah were. They were all giggling at Claire’s new tiger face, which she was viewing through a small mirror.

Davy turned and studied at Ian’s face for a moment, and then said, “Aye, all right, I suppose I do. You were right about that.” He shook his head. “Kids—they don’t care what their da brings home; they only care that he comes home.” He turned to watch his wife and daughters and his voice dropped, low and strained. “That was hard, at first. Without a job, I hated to look them in the eye.” He squirmed, shifted his position against the tree. “I didn’t think they needed me. But I realized I was wrong, that was selfish. I was wrong, mon, about a lot of things.”

“Wrong about what? You finally figured out what a tiger you married then?” Claire asked as she and the girls joined them. She snarled, wrinkled her little black nose and whiskers, and planted a full nose-to-nose kiss on her husband.

The girls giggled.

[Again, I enjoyed what I read, but I can't see what it's doing to move the story along. Just some thoughts of the love interest. The structure isn't very much like a scene. Nothing really happens--it's over before it begins. No hook to the next scene. It needs to continue so it can tie into something bigger.]

16 comments:

Deb said...

I kept waiting for this piece to slip more deeply into Ian's point of view. I was "catched" by his loneliness when confronted by the other couple's love for each other. Once he'd said that, I wanted the story to DO something about it.

Does that make sense? It seems to me in a story if you've made a point about a character's inner life, it's good to follow that point with something of value. You might consider fleshing this moment out for the reader so they get more than a glimpse of Ian's pain.

The other issue I had was the sheer number of characters. Only Maggie and Ian seemed clear to me; the others got lost in the crowd. Can you take this snippet and refocus on the POV character and, say, two others?

Timothy Fish said...

The number of characters didn't bother me as much as the feeling that the scene is pointless. I assume that all of these characters have been introduced previously, so mentioning the various people may deepen the reader's understanding of these people when we consider this in context with the rest of the story. About all I got from this is that Ian is infactuated with Jamie, but what is he going to do about it?

Granted, most of use would probably like to have a day like this if it was our family, but this is the kind of day about which when asked what did you do this weekend? we could respond, "Not much. We went to the festival for a while." There really aren't any setbacks to make this scene interesting.

Camille Eide said...

Okay, okay, one of my many weaknesses as a student of writing is that I don't know where to cut and hook. There is a little more to this scene -- where Ian spends a sleepless night coming to the conclusion that he needs to tell Jamie he loves her and find out if she feels the same. I didn't include more just because I didn't know when enough is enough - to submit. This wasn't meant to be an entire, encapsulated scene, not that I have much of a grasp of what that is ! But I hear and appreciate what you've all said, and Tina's additional comments on the side.

What I wanted to show was how Ian is affected by the family and can no longer deny what he really wants. I'm guessing that the scene doesn't give the reader enough punch from inside his head/heart.

Do I need to make his responses stronger, or cut away from the happenings sooner and get to the inner wrestling and his deciding to make the phone call? Or put him in the path of an exploding helicopter? (he he he)

Deb said...

You do need to make his responses stronger, IMO, and each of his responses should be part of an action/reaction unit. Let me explain: Ian finds himself mulling his attraction for Jamie while walking too close to the exploding helicopter (G). She rushes over and yanks him back just in time. Action/reaction. He gazes soulfully into her eyes and realizes she must have been paying special attention to him, and without meaning to he blurts out that he's in love with her. Action/reaction. She...does what? Runs screaming into the night? Throws her arms around him? Each item Ian does must have some payback or repercussion--this will get your reader so thoroughly into his head that they will live his actions & reactions along with him.

My take. Okay, now Tim will tell us why all this isn't necessary (G).

Camille Eide said...

Deb, you're right, I forgot the MRU lessons. Unfortunately, it won't involve Jamie at this point, however. She's in Oregon and he's in Scotland.

They had a day and a half on the beach with what I hope was full of MRU's earlier in the story.

Timothy Fish said...

If this guy is in Scotland and is in love with a girl back in Oregon, his is probably pretty miserable. He is probably preoccupied with thinking about her, imagining the last time they were together, looking at her picture often or trying to remember her face if he doesn�t have one.

If they parted on good terms and he is contemplating marriage then he is probably over analyzing everything she has said, trying to come to a logical conclusion about what her response will be. If he thinks the chances are good that she will say yes eventually then he would look at the family in this chapter and be happy for them because she knows that he will have a similar situation some day. If he thinks Jamie has no interest, then seeing a happy family will feel like being shot with arrows. If he hasn�t even asked the girl out then he will probably just want to get home for fear that someone else will beat him to her.

I don�t think you need to spend a lot of time having him debate whether he loves her or not. He will come to that conclusion as he thinks about what he likes about her. Have him focus more on the question of whether she loves him. Even without her being in the scene, the inner turmoil of the debate over an unanswerable question can serve as the conflict that seems to be missing.

Keep it real. If she has given him valid reason to believe that she is in love with him then for him the debate is already settled. The conflict exists because he fears that she will reject him if he tells her how much he loves her.

Camille Eide said...

Wow. Timothy, I think you read the rest of the scene that I neglected to include! You pretty much just described it, with a few slight differences. He spends a sleepless night hashing it all out, wondering if she feels the same, and since he's a widower who struggles with some intense regret about wasting precious time, he struggles with whether or not he should wait until he sees her again, or call now, find out how she feels, and not waste another minute.

Sorry, I don't mean to hog the blog, Tina!

I'm most concerned with the importance of the events I've shown and how to make this feel like a whole scene, as Tina suggested.

This will undoubtedly come up again as I go back over scenes I've written earlier in the story.

I appreciate all this feedback, Deb, Timothy & Tina.

Timothy Fish said...

It may be good to pay special attention to a few of Kurt Vonnegut’s Eight Rules of Writing Fiction for this scene. Some of them you are already following, so I won’t mention those, but Rule #3 states, “Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.” Ian obviously wants something, but at the moment it is just a desire. What is it that the other characters want? Focusing one the desires of the other characters and the struggle for them to reach their goals would help this scene. You already have some of that with Maggie who is “in a flap to get ready” for the festival.

Rule #6 states, “Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of.” What awful thing could happen while getting ready for the festival? Someone could drop a pie or a jar of jam. Maggie could burn breakfast. The truck battery might be dead. A number of things that could happen would reveal something about the characters. Since you appear to be trying to show some of Ian’s emotional state here, you might consider some awful thing that could cause him to think “I wish Jamie was here, she would help with this by doing such and such.” Nevertheless, he and the other characters will have to struggle through the situation without her. How sad. While they are at the festival, there are probably some bad things that might happen there also. Maybe they bump in to an acquaintance that doesn’t know when to shut up. Maybe a wasp stings one of the girls. Maybe their booth collapses.

After reading over those last few paragraphs a few times, I am beginning to wonder if it might not be too emotionally charged to be a believable conversation between two men. Men cry in private (mostly) and typically they are not quick to talk with others about the emotional aspect of a hard situation. Unless Davy thinks telling Ian will help Ian through his current situation, Davy is not likely to just blurt out that he struggled with the emotional aspect of not being able to provide for his family. If he does mention it, he probably won’t focus on the emotion as much as what he will focus on how he was able to triumph over the emotion. There are exceptions, but men mention problems when they want the other person’s help with the problem or when they know the solution to the problem and want to tell the other person the solution to the problem.

Camille Eide said...

Timothy--I think I'm putting you on staff as 'Manly Guy' proofer. These are all very helpful suggestions and I appreciate you taking time to think it through.
With Davy, I really meant to go the route of giving Davy's reason for triumph -being a spiritual aspect that Ian would be interested in-rather than his emotion, but, being a chick, I trailed off and slipped into 'sharing'. ew.

In the first chapter and again later, we saw that Ian was instrumental in getting Davy to go back home after he allowed depression to cloud his thinking (maybe also not a 'guy' thing to do...). This last paragraph was them reconnecting and Ian sort of encouraging Davy to see himself as important to the family that Ian values.
Again, maybe not typical guy stuff.

Deb said...

Ian's influence can be made to be "manly" if you show it as more of a butt-kicking endeavor and not a chick-sharing-but-by-guys sort of thing. It can be handled, and I think you have the wherewithal to handle it.

The thing that confuses me in your post-excerpt comments is: whose story is this? You talk about Ian, then Davy, then the fact that Jamie's not with Ian but in another state. Beware of having your novel become a series of events in which he and she don't move closer together, punctuated by lengthy midnight soul-chewing on Ian's part. There should ideally be something happening which brings Ian and Jamie closer, in each scene you write. Even if they can't be in the same locale.

Capisce?

Camille Eide said...

It is supposed to be Ian and Jamie's story. It is also supposed to deal a little with their relationships with other people, and I could be guilty of rambling off too far with those. It happens.

There are scenes before this that do move them closer, including letters exchanged. This day is supposed to be the straw that breaks his resolve (which I clearly did not do very 'breakingly' if there is such a word...) bringing them to a phone call that clears up the love thingy.

I learned a very major weakness in my writing since this was posted here, thanks to all of you. (is this turning into a crit group?)I don't really know what makes a whole, complete scene.

I DO have an overall theme, sub themes, a definite story line and direction to take the main characters, Jamie and Ian. I know all the settings and what internal tension, challenges and ultimate changes I want for these people all throughout the story.

What I don't know and don't even have a grasp of is how to infuse each segment with interesting events. I'm pretty focused on the internal conflicts and tension. I was focused on cracking his wall by simply being around a family, which is something he really values. I didn't show that very well, not in this portion. And I didn't know that this wasn't enough to warrant making this a "scene".

Maybe in the absence of exploding helicopters, I need to increase external events that cause Ian's tension, and then kick it up. I need to intensify what's happening in this scene to warrant that.

OR I need to cut out some of this "nothing much happened" stuff and summarize it instead.

That's another mystery to me: when to write a linear scene with dialogue and action, and when to summarize.

Deb said...

If this day is supposed to be "the straw that breaks Ian's resolve," then show us that happening. While he's playing with or watching the children, have him do something that shows us he's had enough. Even if it's throwing down the nerf bat and exclaiming to the kids, "That's it! I'm outta here!" or some equally masculine piece of soul-revelation.

And then, of course, he can't go home and mull some more--he must get on an airplane for wherever in Oregon Jamie is.

If you have to tell us in commentary that events are moving on mentally for Ian, it's appropriate for you to show us (the readers) that happening. In fact it's vital. Otherwise you're bogged in the "saggy middle" of a novel where things are changing but the story gets caught up in detail.

My take.

Timothy Fish said...

As a “crit group,” we are missing some things that would be very helpful. We don’t have the previous chapters, so we don’t really know how this scene works with the rest of the story.

The choice between including more dialog and action versus a narrative summary is part of what makes writing an art form. There are no hard and fast rules that will always work. The author must choose what he or she thinks works best for each scene. Sometimes it is determined by the medium we use. The story of Cinderella in Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales is all of six pages long. It is one of the longer stories he recorded. If we are in front of an audience and we are telling the story then narrative summary with occasional dialog will work best. In a movie, we have a shortened form of the story, but narrative summary almost never works well. With novels, we have a choice.

While I am no sure that I always follow my own advice, I believe that we should try to focus the reader’s attention on the primary goals of the novel. In romance, the most important goal is getting the two main characters to the happily ever after ending, but along the way there are other goals that are important. Each scene has its own goal. Here, the goal is to get Ian to call Jamie. The reason for that call is that he is one lovesick puppy. I think you are right in avoiding narrative summary here, but the nature of the dialog needs to focus on that goal of getting Ian to the telephone. Ian’s thoughts should be primarily on Jamie at this point. That means that everything he sees, hears and says will be go through the Jamie filter. If this is the turning point then the scene may start out as an argument against him pursuing a love relationship with Jamie. He sees Maggie cooking, filters it through the Jamie filter and thinks “Jamie can’t cook as well as my wife did; it wouldn’t be fair to her because I would always be comparing their cooking.” Other things happen. They get to the festival and Ian looks around, filters it through the Jamie filter and thinks, “I wish I could tell her about this.” Someone tries to talk to him about something mundane, like going fishing with the boys. Ian filters it through the Jamie filter and when his own words come back out he says something like, “Jamie likes to fish.” Do that enough times and the other characters are going to realize that he is there in body, but his heart is in Oregon. One of them can then suggest that he call Jamie. That would center the action and dialog on the goal for the scene rather than showing the reader something that she does not see as important.

Tina Helmuth said...

Deb and Timothy, you've both made very excellent points in these comments. Thanks so much.

Sometimes it's hard for me to articulate why a scene isn't a scene. Other things I can explain until I'm blue in the face. But you put a finger on something I was trying to pin down: The events that are happening in these two scenes have nothing to do with what should be happening, or what's happening internally.

Follow Timothy's excellent suggestions above, and you might have scenes that work. Everything should steer his thoughts toward Jamie.

As for hijacking this post, Camille... It's YOUR post. That's what this blog is here for.

Camille Eide said...

Wow, this is all such valuable input - in lieu of a classroom, what a rare blessing!

Even though I'm a few chapters ahead of this 'scene' in my writing, I'm going to go back now and re-write this while all your suggestions are fresh.

Jamie and her elderly aunt were already planning a trip to Scotland 3 weeks after his call, he knows he'll see her then.

I think time, practice, time, and more practice are about all I can do to better understand the summary vs. action stuff. And setting it aside for a while when it's done, coming back and feeling the overall flow.

One of my favorite contemporary books is Summer of Light by W. Dale Cramer. I study it often, analyze chapters & scenes. I find he uses summary often, and it works. Magic. But he's a pro. He uses more of what I'd call 'setup-buildup-payoff' to quote James Scott Bell. He does use the goal-conflict-disaster schema too. There is definitely drama in those setup-payoff scenes, and sometimes, the conflicts are happening to someone else, but have an impact on the main character.

Thanks loads!!!!!!!!!!! I'd bake you all some cinnamon rolls, but I think they'd lose that most important hot-out-of-the-oven appeal in the transport.

I think I need to figure out a way to e-bake.

Camille Eide said...

One last note of thanks, Deb, Timothy & Tina, and this: Since you've taken time to think this over, if you're at all interested in reading some of the preceding chapters in your leisure time, I have some posted on my blog today
(Nov 30). I'm not looking for a critique, but just to give that info if you're interested.

That goes for anyone else, too.

Thank you!