1,100 words of a 6000 word short story.

[Stuart Suffel]

Comments Welcome.

The girl's servant coughed uncomfortably. “Come Miss Sasha, we shall be late.” The girl did not move. Saorcha looked up from her embroidery. She took in the girl's story in a glance. Spoiled, petulant, envious, lonely. The beginning of self hatred, possibly self harm, certainly harm to others.

“Kara,” the girl slapped out the servant's name, “I'll be as late or early as I wish.” She rose her young head up to Gorin, Saorcha's husband. “I want one with a handsome knight. Not a fat one.”

Gorin hooked his thumb into his belt, and pushed his sizeable belly outwards. “Well, now Missy, not all hero's are light and slender, you know.”

Saorcha stood up. “Here's one, sweet girl,” she said, reaching to a nearby shelf. She picked up box and took out a standard model, an inferior, but perfect piece for the little madam. “This one is very special,” Saorcha continued, “only the Lady Jasmine has one such as this.”

The name of the daughter of Annis richest house had the desired effect. “I want it,” the girl barked. “Have it sent up today.”

Saorcha nodded with relief, but Gorin wasn't finished yet. “Of course, you have to ask why is it the damsel who is in distress,” he said. Saorcha threw him a dark look, but he didn't see it, or didn't care. The girl and her servant looked at Gorin, unsure as to his meaning. He elaborated. “Why isn't she the one riding the stallion, huh? Why isn't she the one in armour, holding a sword. Why doesn't she come to the rescue of –

Saorcha punched her husband in his ribs. But the eyes of the girl and her servant were already open in shock. Saorcha placed the figurine back in the box. “This also comes with a pony,” she said. She reached for another figurine, a small silver pony. “At no extra cost.” The pony dazzled in the light. It was a far more impressive, and expensive, piece than the damsel in distress work. The pony sparkled and the little girl was mesmerised. “You may take this with you now, my sweet child,” Saorcha said with a wide smile. Th girl nodded as in in a trace. Saorcha placed the pony in her hands. Gorin moved to intercept, but Saorcha moved faster. Her eyes locked on Gorin's, and her husband held back.

“And for you,” Saorcha turned to the servant woman, “this.” A cheap pendant, but more than the servant could have afforded without some hardship. The servant took it with gratitude. “I do hope you will call again, my sweet child.” The girl barely responded, her eyes devoured the silver pony as Saorcha ushered her and her servant out of the shop.

When she returned Gorin looked shamefaced. He shrugged a sorry. Saorcha nodded her forgiveness. “The smallest dagger can rip flesh just as easily as the largest one. And that little madam, she likes to cut.”

Gorin nodded. He was about to speak when the sound of hooves halting outside the shop stopped him. He glanced at Saorcha, who in turn looked at the timepiece which hung on the wall. “She's an hour early today.”

Gorin edged to the shop front window. “It's her. You can tell by the sound of her carriage?”

Saorcha smiled. “The smell of her perfume, my love. Bring her through.”

Saorcha retreated to the back room of the shop. Moments later a young frail dark haired white skinned woman entered. Saorcha beckoned her to sit. The young Lady Alsa took her usual place by the small window.



#



Saorcha allowed a time to pass before speaking. “Would you like to see it now or later?” she asked softly.

The lady known as Alsa stretched forward like a cat, touching her toes, her thin bony spine knuckled through her satin dress, a knotted rope of worry. Saorcha wanted to rise from her own seat, to hold this frail young woman, tell her everything was fine. The world was not an evil place, the gods had wisdom and mercy, truth and kindness always won out in the end. But she did not move.

Alsa righted herself. She nodded, her expression that of a child who'd finally agreed to wash her hands before eating. “Now, if you so please.”

Saorcha rose from her seating, Alsa did likewise. Saorcha clicked a series of levers and a large drawer slid out from the wall. She folded back the paper cover to one end, and then lit a nearby lantern. The LifeStory gleamed in the artificial light. She watched as Alsa took in the newest additions, the reworked older pieces, the silver threads between both.

The Lady of Avoran took in a breath. She ran her fingers lightly above the figures, as a mother might caress the neck of a newborn babe. The box was five feet long and one foot wide. It had started as a square, but as each year passed it became longer.

Alsa danced her fingers above the new additions, the tiny figurines and minute replica of her large home and extensive gardens. Saorcha watched her movements intently.

The first time Saorcha had seen Alsa do this, she had made to stop her. Then Saorcha realised the Alsa did not make actual contact with the miniature world. Saorcha had seen others do similar, but there was something different in how her fingers moved. The young lady rarely spoke with words. This was her speaking. Her fingers were her voice. So Saorcha listened.

She watched as Alsa's fingers reached the miniature lake. Saorcha noticed that this was the closest her hand had ventured towards the lake, but then her fingers flinched as they drew too close, recoiling upon themselves like a spider exposed to fire. Saorcha nodded. Alsa's pain was still raw, but lessened. This was good.

Alsa's hand retreated from the lake, from the gardens. It now hovered above the house, above her bedroom. Her fingers folded inwards, her hand cupped, then opened again as it moved over the rest of the house. Alsa's index finger stretched forward, her other fingers and thumb pulled back, a delicate all white kingfisher seeking its sustenance. The kingfisher's long beak hovered over different parts of the house, pinpointing a particular item or figurine, then fluttered upwards high above the LifeStory box, then swooped down to the house courtyard, and briefly out to the gardens again.

Saorcha watched all of this, memorizing each movement of the young woman's hands. She was pleased by many of the revelations, disappointed by some of the others.

 

[tinkerdan]

Quite well written.
In the first part I'm immediately thrown off with Sasha and Saorcha; though they are far from the same there is enough similarity that at first I thought you already misspelled your characters name.

The second half left me confused. There were interesting descriptions; but I had a hard time understanding what was going on.
At first I had a sense that this Alsa could be blind in the way she acted; yet Saorcha's thoughts seemed to some how dispute that possibility. So though the description of how she handled the object was interesting, what was going on in general here in the scene was lost on me. Also I wasn't sure what this objects was or how valuable it might be to the story.

Just a few thoughts; there may be something I'm missing that might be obvious to others.

 

[Appello]

I think you're either introducing too many character's all at once for the beginning of a story, or doing it in such a manner as to make it confusing for the reader. For instance, on first read, it's not logically clear when the girl's servant says 'Miss Sasha', that it's to the girl she speak. Of course, it does become clear a line or two later, but it just reads a little off and takes a second too long to process than I think is a good idea for the very opening of a story. Also, Saorcha's reaction and position is confusing here. Presuming she is sitting there together with the girl, why is it only when the servant speaks that she takes in the girl's 'story'? What particular action causes her to suddenly see the girl as petulant, spoilt, etc etc, or alternatively why should we give credence to this strangely abrupt sentiment? There's just something a little off about the entire interaction. Maybe because there's no explanation of who the little girl is, why she's sitting there doing embroidery, how she knows Saorcha, etc. The scene kind of feels like it starts halfway through.

I think you are trying a little too hard to be mysterious and deep, and sacrificing reader clarity as a result. The setting is unclear - the presence of horses, servants and lanterns suggests a kind of medieval vibe, but then Saorcha goes ahead and punches her husband in the ribs, an action that is incongruous with that time period, and you don't really explain why she might be exempt from the societal norms of that era, nor why her husband reacts with apparent indifference. Not to mention that the name Saorcha is pretty unmedieval, its closest relative being the Irish name Sorcha - but there's no hint they are in Ireland so maybe it's just a completely made up world altogether, but then there's no real indication of that and by this point I'm just confused...

Then there's the lifestory book, which I could kind of picture but just didn't really know how to place within the context of the story. The gifts that Saorcha gives are equally confusing. Are they puppet makers? What's with the feminist rant from the husband?

I dunno, maybe these questions indicate I'm intrigued as a reader. But for me personally it was less 'I want to read on and find the answers', and more 'I can't figure out what this is about or why I should care so I'm moving on.' I think you can get away with leaving some of this unclear, but all of it all at once just makes for a bit of a jumble.

The general prose is good though and you have a couple of lovely turns of phrases. But I think at least one of Saorcha, the girl, hubby or Alsa has to be less obscure, and give more concrete details, to give your reader some kind of grounding to run with.

My 2 cents.

 

[Stuart Suffel]

@Appello Excellent observations Appello, spot on. I did have a longer intro/ set up, but thought it unnecessary. I can see now I was wrong. I'm also breaking the rookie rule of too many folk, not clearly introduced AND worse of all the similarity of the two names. Re societal norms, yes, Saorcha doesn't follow the rules , and I need to construct that undercurrent more effectively. In terms of place, well it's a fantasy world, not necessarily tied to a particular time of history , in anything probably a mish mash of ancient and medieval . (Ps, the husband makes figurines, but it's a cover for the real work of Saorcha)

@tinkerdan Well observered comments. Similar to Appello's. So great to get feedback, especially in the formative stage, before I lock in, and continue , believing my intent has been realised, when it has not. Many thanks to you both.

 

[Brian G Turner]

The girl's servant coughed uncomfortably. Just a heads up that you're telling here, but it's not completely clear what the tell is. Is she uncomfortable in the presense of the other, or does she have a really severe cough? This is where showing helps better “Come Miss Sasha, we shall be late.” The girl Do you really mean a girl, or a young woman? did not move. Saorcha looked up from her embroidery. I had to repeat these lines repeatedly, because it looks as though you are referring to the same character with two different names in two different sentences. At least, I think that's what you're doing. IMO if a character has a second name they are referred to by, then stick to one and introduce the other later - not two different ones in quick succession at the beginning of a story. She took in the girl's story in a glance. Spoiled, petulant, envious, lonely. It's a good observation, but again, you're telling rather than showing us, therefore missing a trick in letting the reader tell for themselves by how Sasha behaves The beginning of self hatred, possibly self harm, certainly harm to others.

“Kara,” the girl slapped out the servant's name,How does someone "slap out" a name? Do you mean she literarlly slaps the servant, or are you trying to be clever with a saidism? “I'll be as late or early as I wish.” She rose her young You've already referred to her as a girl - using "young" here is hammering the point head up to Gorin, Saorcha's husband. I'm confused now - are Sasha and Saorcha different people?? “I want one with a handsome knight. Not a fat one.” This is a show for petulant.

Gorin hooked his thumb into his belt, and pushed his sizeable belly outwards. “Well, now Missy, not all hero's are light and slender, you know.” I like this line - the show, and the mannerism.

Saorcha stood up. “Here's one, sweet girl,” she said, reaching to a nearby shelf. She picked up box and took out a standard model, an inferior, but perfect piece for the little madam. “This one is very special,” Saorcha continued, “only the Lady Jasmine has one such as this.”

The name of the daughter of Annis richest house had the desired effect. “I want it,” the girl barked. “Have it sent up today.”

Saorcha nodded with relief, but Gorin wasn't finished yet. “Of course, you have to ask why is it the damsel who is in distress,” he said. Saorcha threw him a dark look, but he didn't see it, or didn't care. The girl and her servant looked at Gorin, unsure as to his meaning. He elaborated. “Why isn't she the one riding the stallion, huh? Why isn't she the one in armour, holding a sword. Why doesn't she come to the rescue of –

^ There's a lot of talking here, but I'm not sure what point is being made. Also, weren't we supposed to be in the maid's POV, but where is she??

Saorcha punched her husband in his ribs. Women are more famous for slapping and grabbing and kicking and pinching. A punch sounds very masculine and not something girls normally do But the eyes of the girl and her servant were already open in shock. I'm struggling to understand how this line connects with the previous sentence Saorcha placed the figurine back in the box. “This also comes with a pony,” she said. She reached for another figurine, a small silver pony. “At no extra cost.” The pony dazzled in the light. It was a far more impressive, and expensive, piece than the damsel in distress work. The pony sparkled and the little girl was mesmerised. “You may take this with you now, my sweet child,” Saorcha said with a wide smile. Th girl nodded as in in a trace. Saorcha placed the pony in her hands. Gorin moved to intercept, but Saorcha moved faster. Her eyes locked on Gorin's, and her husband held back.

“And for you,” Saorcha turned to the servant woman, “this.” A cheap pendant, but more than the servant could have afforded without some hardship. The servant took it with gratitude. “I do hope you will call again, my sweet child.” The girl barely responded, her eyes devoured the silver pony as Saorcha ushered her and her servant Her and her servant?? out of the shop. We're in a shop??

When she returned Gorin looked shamefaced. He shrugged a sorry. Saorcha nodded her forgiveness. “The smallest dagger can rip flesh just as easily as the largest one. And that little madam, she likes to cut.”

Gorin nodded. He was about to speak when the sound of hooves halting outside the shop stopped him. He glanced at Saorcha, who in turn looked at the timepiece which hung on the wall. “She's an hour early today.”

Gorin edged to the shop front window. “It's her. You can tell by the sound of her carriage?”

Saorcha smiled. “The smell of her perfume, my love. Bring her through.”

Saorcha retreated to the back room of the shop. Moments later a young frail dark haired white skinned woman entered. Saorcha beckoned her to sit. The young Lady Alsa took her usual place by the small window.



There are a couple of places where you're over-writing IMO, and there's too much talking whose purpose I'm not sure of. Watch out for trying to cram too much detail in, especially as the irony is that it remains unclear who is in this scene and what the setting is, even toward the end - IMO there's a danger of focusing on the wrong detail.

Also, take care with POV use - even if you're using omniscient this should be clear, but as in the previous paragraph, it's not clear who is where and doing what.

You're also missing a sense of inner tension here - people appear in the scene, then leave - something should have been achieved and established. But all I saw was that Miss Sasha is petulant, which you mentioned in the first paragraph. I'm really not sure what the rest added to it, other than someone else entered the scene, which you could have started with.

On the positive, your writing style is clear and easy to follow, so apologies if I'm not more positive - I just don't know if I've read it wrong from the beginning and ended up confused for no reason.

 

[Mouse]

Comments Welcome.

The girl's servant coughed uncomfortably. I'd want to get rid of that 'uncomfortably' or at least put some sort of action that that shows she's uncomfortable rather than tells us. “Come Miss Sasha, we shall be late.” The girl did not move. Saorcha I agree that these names are too similar looked up from her embroidery Actually I'm already confused, who's coughing, who's Sasha and who's Saorcha?. She took in the girl's story in a glance. Spoiled, petulant, envious, lonely. The beginning of self hatred, possibly self harm, certainly harm to others. That's a lot to deduce from a glance.

“Kara,” the girl slapped out the servant's name, “I'll be as late or early as I wish.” She rose her young head up to Gorin 'She lifted her gaze' would possibly be less awkward and not give readers images of floating heads, Saorcha's husband. “I want one with a handsome knight. Not a fat one.”

Gorin hooked his thumb into his belt, and pushed his sizeable belly outwards. “Well, now Missy, not all hero's are light and slender, you know.”

Saorcha stood up. “Here's one, sweet girl,” she said, reaching to a nearby shelf. She picked up a box and took out a standard model a model what?, an inferior, but perfect piece for the little madam. “This one is very special,” Saorcha continued, “only the Lady Jasmine has one such as this.”

The name of the daughter of Annis richest house had the desired effect. “I want it,” the girl barked. “Have it sent up today.”

Saorcha nodded with relief, but Gorin wasn't finished yet. “Of course, you have to ask why is it the damsel who is in distress,” he said. Saorcha threw him a dark look, but he didn't see it, or didn't care. The girl and her servant looked at Gorin, unsure as to his meaning. He elaborated. “Why isn't she the one riding the stallion, huh? Why isn't she the one in armour, holding a sword. Why doesn't she come to the rescue of –

Saorcha punched her husband in his ribs. Speaking as someone with actual lady parts, women can and do punch and aren't all slappy crappy and most definitely please don't write any 'pinching' unless you're writing toddlers or comedy, but I'd want to change this to 'jabbed' or 'elbowed' to show more of the action you mean. But the eyes of the girl and her servant were already open in shock. Saorcha placed the figurine back in the box. “This also comes with a pony,” she said. She reached for another figurine, a small silver pony. “At no extra cost.” The pony dazzled in the light. It was a far more impressive, and expensive, piece than the damsel in distress work. The pony sparkled and the little girl was mesmerised. “You may take this with you now, my sweet child,” Saorcha said with a wide smile. Th girl nodded as in in a trace. Saorcha placed the pony in her hands. Gorin moved to intercept, but Saorcha moved faster. Her eyes locked on Gorin's, and her husband held back.

“And for you,” Saorcha turned to the servant woman, “this.” A cheap pendant, but more than the servant could have afforded without some hardship. The servant took it with gratitude. “I do hope you will call again, my sweet child.” The girl barely responded, her eyes devoured the silver pony as Saorcha ushered her and her servant out of the shop. I don't know whose POV any of this is in.

When she returned Gorin looked shamefaced. He shrugged an apology. Saorcha nodded her forgiveness. “The smallest dagger can rip flesh just as easily as the largest one. And that little madam, she likes to cut.”

Gorin nodded. He was about to speak when the sound of hooves halting I know what you mean, but this is awkward, you can't actually hear hooves once they've stopped. outside the shop stopped him. He glanced at Saorcha, who in turn looked at the timepiece which hung on the wall. “She's an hour early today.”

Gorin edged to the shop front window. “It's her. You can tell by the sound of her carriage?” Why the question mark?

Saorcha smiled. “The smell of her perfume, my love. Bring her through.” Ok, I get the question mark by this line, so I'd either stick one after 'it's her?' or just get rid of the 'it's her' bit.

Saorcha retreated to the back room of the shop. Moments later a young frail dark haired white skinned whoa, way too much info there woman entered. Saorcha beckoned her to sit. The young Lady Alsa took her usual place by the small window.



# <- why this?



Saorcha allowed a time to pass before speaking. “Would you like to see it now or later?” she asked softly.

The lady known as (we get it, you said her name two seconds ago) Alsa stretched forward like a cat, touching her toes, her thin bony spine knuckled through her satin dress, a knotted rope of worry nice. Saorcha wanted to rise from her own seat, to hold this frail young woman, and tell her everything was fine. The world was not an evil place, the gods had wisdom and mercy, truth and kindness always won out in the end. But she did not move.

Alsa righted herself. She nodded, her expression that of a child who'd finally agreed to wash her hands before eating. “Now, if you so please.”

Saorcha rose from her seating, Alsa did likewise. Saorcha clicked a series of levers and a large drawer slid out from the wall. She folded back the paper cover to one end, and then lit a nearby lantern. The LifeStory gleamed in the artificial light. She watched as Alsa took in the newest additions, the reworked older pieces pieces of what?, the silver threads between both.

The Lady of Avoran who's this now? took in a breath. She ran her fingers lightly above the figures, as a mother might caress the neck of a newborn babe. The box was five feet long and one foot wide. It had started as a square, but as each year passed it became longer.

Alsa danced her fingers above the new additions, the tiny figurines and minute replica of her large home and extensive gardens. Saorcha watched her movements intently.

The first time Saorcha had seen Alsa do this, she had made to stop her. Then Saorcha realised the Alsa did not make actual contact with the miniature world. Saorcha had seen others do similar, but there was something different in how her fingers moved. The young lady rarely spoke with words. This was her speaking. Her fingers were her voice. So Saorcha listened.

She watched as Alsa's fingers reached the miniature lake. Saorcha noticed that this was the closest her hand had ventured towards the lake, but then her fingers flinched as they drew too close, recoiling upon themselves like a spider exposed to fire. Saorcha nodded. Alsa's pain was still raw, but lessened. This that? was good.

Alsa's hand retreated from the lake, from the gardens. It now hovered above the house, above her bedroom. Her fingers folded inwards, her hand cupped, then opened again as it moved over the rest of the house. Alsa's index finger stretched forward, her other fingers and thumb pulled back, a delicate all white kingfisher seeking its sustenance. The kingfisher's long beak hovered over different parts of the house, pinpointing a particular item or figurine, then fluttered upwards high above the LifeStory box, then swooped down to the house courtyard, and briefly out to the gardens again.

Saorcha watched all of this, memorizing each movement of the young woman's hands. She was pleased by many of the revelations, disappointed by some of the others.

Hope that helps. I felt like I was missing something so guess this isn't taken from the beginning.

 

[vonHelldorf]

Nicely written. The relationship between Gorin and Saorcha (nice name by the way) comes across well. I find myself wanting to know more about her.

I like the setting of the shop. Doesn't seem to be too common in most pieces. Adding some description of the room would go down a treat. Doesn't need to be too much, maybe one or two small details which really set the atmosphere. Exploring some of the other senses might help with this too—any candles burning, incense, a fire.

The second section further adds to the intrigue. Nice originality with the fingers being her voice. I can imagine there's a lot of potential to expand on it. It seems Asla is a pretty significant character at this point so it'd be worth going into her description a bit more. Some description of Saorcha's appearance would be a nice addition too.

Your handle of dialogue is good. Flows nicely, keeps to the 'saids'.

For the first 1,100 words it's good stuff. I'd read more.

 

[pambaddeley]

Can only second what's been said above except I don't see this small point anywhere:

“Well, now Missy, not all hero's are light and slender,

That should be plural - heroes - not a possessive as in not all hero's swords are light and slender

 

[Stuart Suffel]

Many thanks to all. @Brian G Turner Great stuff Brian, bang on the button. Yup. this definitely needs a lotta tidying for sure.
@Mouse Great stuff. Very well observed. Yes, I meant elbow re Saorcha, punched sounds way to extreme, missed that one.

Well it really is fab to get the feedback folks - my favourite part of being in the Chron world. Hard to get betas at short notice, and with such speedy responses.

Yea Chrons!