TITLE: A Moment To Breathe
GENRE: Inspirational Fiction (?)
The sirens woke her as the cars approached, and Rosalie peered through the icy windows quickly. They weren’t interested in her family tonight, she thought as they kept going. She looked around the interior of the frigid Chevy Metro and noticed Angelique shivering slightly under the green Army blanket. Rosalie took her own blanket off and spread it across the tiny girl, making sure it was tucked in all around. Then she glanced back at Jonathon lying across the back seat. His face was serene; no doubt he was dreaming about sand castles and the beach again. He wanted to see the ocean so much, but Rosalie didn’t figure she’d be able to make that happen anytime soon. Denver was a long ways away from any beaches, and they weren’t exactly overflowing with travel money.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around and rocking back and forth. Reaching beneath the seat for a bottle, but she found only empty glass; she’d finished it off yesterday. Rosalie was the one shivering now, despite the thick sweater she’d gotten at the Open Arms a few weeks ago. Her long raven hair hung down around her face in dirty tatters as she bowed her head. Her breath misted in the cold air as if from a cigarette; thankfully she hadn’t picked up that habit. She didn’t know if they could make it through another month of cold, let alone the rest of the season. It was early November, and winter had struck with a vengeance. She dozed slightly, her conscious mind only half watching over her little family.
In a few hours, sunlight broke through the buildings across the street and woke her again. They needed to get moving, or there’d be no corner to take. She reached over and shook Angelique gently, and then she called back to Jonathan. Neither of them wanted to get up, but they were used to things by now. Rosalie had to kick the door from the inside to get it open, since ice and snow had piled up on her little car overnight. She looked around as she stepped out, not seeing anyone on the street. They’d have to get the car started today somehow, so they could move it to another spot for the night. Better that than risk getting a parking ticket or worse. They were all better off if the police knew as little about her as possible. They’d probably take her kids away from her in a heartbeat, and she couldn’t make it without them. She locked the doors, putting the key in her shoe for safekeeping; It was uncomfortable, but nobody looked in your shoes. Then they walked a few blocks away, Jonathan carrying the cardboard sign in his little hands. Angelique held her momma’s hand tightly, her little blue eyes peering this way and that. The child’s hair was more midnight than her mother’s, and it hung in dirty clumps around her shoulders. Jonathon had his father’s brown hair and blue eyes, and bits of it stuck up in the back like wild grass in a field.
The trio got to the corner, and thankfully nobody else had beaten them to it. Rosalie took the sign from Jonathan, who promptly got behind her and grabbed his sister’s hand. She looked imploringly at each car passing by, immune to the glances of disdain. After some time, she got her first dollar, which she tucked into a front pocket quickly. She thanked the person with a “God bless you”, regardless of the fact that she didn’t believe in God. Believing didn’t matter anyway, for her at least. As long as they believed, she’d get enough money for a meal. She kept at it until rush hour was over, not wanting to miss out on any opportunities. Angelique and Jonathan were really hungry, but they knew better than to ask. They’d all eat when it was time, and Mama had to work. With money safely tucked away, they walked a few blocks further to the McDonalds. Jonathan glanced at the play place, and Rosalie said, “After you eat, hito.” He nodded back, taking another quick glance as they walked to the counter. Rosalie ordered a few things off the dollar menu, a cup of coffee for herself and hot chocolate for the kids. Glancing around nervously, she counted out the bills and handed them over. Good, there was still enough for her to get a bottle later, she thought.
They sat in a booth next to the indoor playground, and Rosalie absently noticed a young woman nearby move to another table. She should be used to it by now, the looks and words of disgust hurled in her direction. But despite telling herself it didn’t matter, she still wished things could be different. “Is everything okay, Mama?” Jonathan interrupted her thoughts. “Yes baby”, she replied with a tired smile. “Are you still hungry?” she asked, seeing his food already gone. Angelique was still nibbling on the last of her hashbrown, eyeing them both quietly. Jonathan shook his head, obviously eager to go play. Angelique didn’t want to be left out, so she swallowed the rest quickly, taking a gulp of her hot chocolate to wash it down. With the back of her hand, she wiped off the chocolate mustache, mixing it with the dirt on her face. Rosalie had to swallow a giggle as she watched them scoot out of the booth with excitement. “Stay with your brother, baby Angel”, she called after her daughter. All she got was a quick nod as they disappeared into the glass enclosure.
Rosalie watched them clamber all over the indoor playground, Jonathan always careful to stay close to his little sister. Another parent chided her child sternly, because her kids had talked to him. Jonathan was getting big, she noticed. She’d have to take him down to the Goodwill today and look for some new pants. The ones he had on were getting way too small for him. Angelique needed a better coat as well, and so did she. She needed to figure out where they could park tonight too, since they’d been on that street for two days already. Glancing around nervously, she pulled out the bills she had left and counted them, hiding her hands under the table. There was enough money for maybe a quarter tank of gas and meals. She’d have to work the corner a bit longer to get enough for the new clothes. The kids played for a while longer while Rosalie sipped at her coffee, enjoying the warmth spreading through her frigid bones. She preferred her tequila, but that would have to wait until tonight.
This is compelling. I like the character and the story you have begun to build here.
ReplyDeleteI did have trouble reading the fist paragraph--I actually had to read the first lines three times to figure out what was going on. Also there were some grammatical issues--a fragment here and there. One started with "Reaching beneath the seat for a bottle, but..." You need to work on that sentence.
Otherwise, I'd like to read more.
I found this to be a good start. I liked the characters and felt sorry for the children, and a anger at the mother for worrying about a bottle of alcohol while at the same time liking her for her obvious love of her children.
ReplyDeleteI would keep reading.
This didn't really do much for me. It has good moments, but the writing was a little wonky to me. Nothing specific, that I could say 'this is what I didn't like' to, but it just didn't grab me at all.
ReplyDeleteI noticed some grammatical issues too in the bginning - read the sentences out loud and you should notice where the punctiuation or structure is off.
ReplyDeleteI was drawn by the references to the police not knowing about her family b/c it made me think something more interesting was coming, but you focused so heavily on the bottle I fear this will only be a story about overcoming addiction for the good of the family. While a worthy subject, it would have to be done very creatively for me to read it.
Also, your paragrpahs are a little long for me. It might read easier if you broke them up - esp. with dialogue.
I think the reason The Pursuit of Happyness worked is because the main character was working his butt off, trying for a better life. Even still, I had a hard time with what he put his kid through in order to get it. I'm not seeing a redeemable character in Rosalie in these first thousand words. I want to know her story, why she's in the streets, why I should root for her (being homeless and a mother isn't enough), where they came from, where they are going. Does Rosalie have plans aside from working her corner for Goodwill clothes? Where is their family? The kids' father? How did they come to live in their car? Did they ever have a home? What does Rosalie yearn for? How old is Rosalie? A forty-five year old washout? A twenty-two year old running away from abuse? These are all questions that could have been hinted at in these first thousand, alongside the minutia of their morning. Story questions are what make me want to read on. The writing is good, though. If you put some hooks in these first paragraphs, I'd want to read on.
ReplyDeleteI second macaronipants' suggestions.
ReplyDeleteAlso, Rosalie's drinking problem seems problematic because addiction is the stereotypical reason for homelessness, and it makes it harder for us to root for her since her kids are depending (and dependent) on her.
That's not to say this character shouldn't have a drinking problem -- but perhaps you don't want to introduce it this early if there are other reasons for their homelessness (recession? foreclosure?). And especially if you don't want the reader to immediately view her situation in a "it's her own darn fault" light. (I'm not saying readers should see it that way, but many will.)
I liked the plot and was worried about the children. I agree with others about rewoking some of the sentences. It would be nice if we knew a little something on how they got in that situation.
ReplyDeleteI could be hooked, but found it too wordy. It's definite first draft material, now try seeing if you can convey the same feeling with less. Things that broke my rhythm: Chevy Metro, Army Blanket, pulling knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around...(sounds redundent), Open Arms. You're telling the story to yourself, now trim it and tell it to us. Trust your audience to fill in the scene. The other thing is trying to avoid writing in past tense. Write like it is happening now, not just a moment ago.
ReplyDeleteFor example: Hearing the sirens, Rosalie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered through the icy window.
Hope this helps. :)
I've actually read this before. :D A swap I did with the author awhile back. (So, author, this might be repeative. :) )
ReplyDeleteSeems like people are hitting on the same things I noticed before.
To try not and repeat what's been said in the comments already:
I think you should break the dialogue out of the big chunks of paragraph.
Also, they say starting a book with a character waking up is a no-no.
And try to cut down the use of adverbs as much as you can. Save them for when you really need them.
Good luck!
I'd keep reading - I'm hooked. In my opinion the second graf is your beginning. The first graf sets your scene and I found it distracting. I'm glad I got to the second paragraph -- and I believe you can integrate details that you need from graf 1 in other parts of the story. My preference is to see what your main character is doing -- not what she is seeing -- and the doing starts in graf 2. Looking, shivering and ruminating aren't enough 'doing' for me.
ReplyDeleteAnother thing is that your grafs seem very long and consistent in size. Strange observation, I know, but I think variances move the reader along and help the eye not get lost.
Good luck to you!
The first paragraph give problems establishing the scene. It's not immediately clear what is happening. Police sirens, which have nothing to do with her, long paragraphs right from the beginning which really don't say much. There's no hook.
ReplyDeleteI see the beginning of your story when Jonathon asks "Is everything okay, Mom? This establishes a degree of interest and is a hook device.
Paragraphs are too long and it's agony to get through as solid blocks like this. Dialogue works better when you don't bury it. To me the words are like the heavy dramatic music in a movie, while dialogue moves the story along, if that makes sense.
Opening a book is like setting off on a car trip. I'm expecting to have a good time losing myself in the excitement of a holiday, but if the car has a flat tire before you even leave the driveway - you can't help feeling that you hope the rest of the trip will be better.
1,000 words should be enough to entice me but I wasn't able to get through the first para, but then somebody mentioned here, embedded dialogue so I looked at the second para and found where your story should really start. "Is everything alright?" That infers already that no, everything isn't alright. That's why that would be a hook.
Hope this helps you. Good luck disassembling those long paragraphs.
I found myself lukewarm on this. Is flowed along well, although too wordily, and it sort of interests me, but I'm not sure how this will be different. Not quite hooked, but if you could get the plot moving a little sooner, it might hook me.
ReplyDeleteActually, I'm hooked.
ReplyDeleteYou've got a good MC--in that, you get us into her life, into seeing it as she sees it. At this point, it IS all about surviving and doing so for right now. Having her control when she drinks makes her less unheroic.
And you've got a good hopeless situation for the power of redemption to work on. (Maybe when you get to Mickey D's and she's wishing things could be different, you could tell us why they are the way they are.
I do think you can pare the writing and "resize" the grafs. As has been said, these dense blocks of text intimidate today's reader.
But I'd read on. Good story idea; mechanics can use some work.
I found that while I like parts of this, it seems like a lot of words. I wonder if this will be about the drinking or will some other things come up. It definitely has promise, and while I might read on, I need a better reason.
ReplyDeleteI'd definitely keep reading, because I'm interested in the characters. That should not be confused with me liking them. I like the kids a lot and I want god things for them. The mom worrying about getting tequila when she can't get clothes for her kids without begging really ticks me off. I'd definitely want her to acknowledge that problem and fix it before the end of the story.
ReplyDeleteI'm a sucker for stories about damaged people and would read on a few more pages because of it. I'll parrot the above critters on all their comments for improving.
ReplyDeleteAlso in the 1st paragraph I was confused about the mc's age. At first I thought she was an older sister. Maybe you can say "kids" instead of "family" to establish that. She's afraid the police will take her kids away right?
In some areas, mine included, homeless don't beg with their kids because they will be taken by CPS. If this were in a third world country, begging with your kids is commonplace. You might research Denver CPS on the law before proceeding.
I want to thank everyone for the comments. This is in fact a first draft, and I've actually set it down for a while so I can improve my writing through a couple short stories. I do take to heart all the helpful criticism however, so thanks.
ReplyDeleteThis is not generally something I would read, yet I kept reading. You had me with the opening of sirens, but the general tension in the opening is mid-level. There was the danger presented from the possibility of cops noticing her and her family, but then that danger left as quickly as it came and seems to only be a device to wake the mother up.
ReplyDeleteI also didn't realize that Rosalie was a mother until it was mentioned in paragraph three by her children. I thought she was much younger, like the oldest sister, and even when I discovered she was the mother, she still feels very young. There's not that many telling details that would imply her background or her age or generation: details that might add more flavor or pull at more heartstrings if used.
If she's young, where's her husband. Does she have friends or family to go to or is there a reason she's not going to them?
If she's older, and this is her first time out of a home, how does she feel about that? What went wrong that she'd be kicked out, or did she never have a home for her and her children to begin with?
See where I'm going? I'm not saying give away your MC's life story on the first page, but there should be hints of a deeper background history already present in the opening for this reader to keep reading. And you'll add a new layer of complexity to your character's life if there was a bit more context to her predicament; make her likable even though she has flawed traits.
Right now, most of this feels like surface details, immediate to the current surroundings but not going much deeper. Maybe you even want to play on that: the MC is so focused on her immediate predicament that she doesn't think about how she even got there, just the next way she's going to sustain herself and her children. But it has to be done intentionally.
Also, watch out for repetitive phrases. You had Rosalie "glance around nervously" and count her bills twice within three paragraphs of each other. It's a nice nervous habit, but you use almost the exact words.
I hope this isn't overly critical or harsh, but I wanted to like the opening and feel more for the characters than I did. It seemed to me to fall just short. I needed more than just the dire circumstance of being homeless and with children to care for. I needed to hear more about the main character.