Cheers Curt, thank you for a helpful review :)
Novel Treatments / responsibilities (Analysis)
The pan of deep brown molten chocolate began to bubble. Isabel moved it off the flame and set it on the counter beside a bag of marshmallows and a plate covered in hundreds and thousands, and began to dip. She took the marshmallows, one at a time, and dipped them first in the chocolate, then in the hundreds and thousands, and then dropped them onto the tray, licking the drips off her fingers after each one.
Dip, dip, drop, lick.
Dip, dip, drop, lick.
She closed her eyes savouring the rich smoothness of the chocolate. This isn’t really breaking my diet, it’s merely making sure I don’t make a mess, she told herself as the dark, velvety liquid covered her tongue. Just personal hygiene and good house keeping, that’s all. She had been determined to get in to those size twelve pants for Gemma’s birthday party.
“Mum!” Tina shouted through the closed door from the living room, interrupting her guilt induced reasoning.
Oh sod it, she thought, ignoring the shout and taking a spoonful of the chocolate. Sod it all. It’s not as though I’m going to meet anyone at the party anyway. It’s a child’s birthday party for God sake, not cocktail hour. It’ll be full of other over-wrought, over-tired and over-weight mums, not swarthy bachelors waiting to sweep me off my feet.
Still, it was nice to dream.
“Mum! Will you tell Gemma to stop jumping on the sofa! Came Tina’s angry little voice again. “Mum, tell her! She’s bugging me!” She’d been in a fowl temper all morning because her father had cancelled on her yet again and was starting to get on Isabel’s last nerve.
She glanced towards the door and then pulled one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen table over to it. She wedged it under the handle and sat down on it with the pan and a spoon.
“Sod it all,” she muttered and stuck the spoon in the chocolate again. She let her mind drift back to the swarthy bachelor and his private yacht, because every girl knew that swarthy bachelors always came with private yachts. And horses. Not on the yacht, obviously, but back at his mansion or estate where he would ravish her in every gold gilded room and they would languish the days away in a four poster bed with a butler to bring them champagne whenever they felt like it…
Oh yes, it was nice to dream.
The scream came a few seconds later. It was the kind of scream that every mother knows is no false alarm. The kind that rips right through your stomach and into your heart.
She jumped off the chair and span around to open the door, the pan of chocolate falling to the floor spilling over her hands as it went. She couldn’t get the damn chair out from under the door handle. As she pulled and twisted the chair, the handle was being turned from the other side and she couldn’t get a proper grip on it through the slippery chocolate goo.
“Mummy, mummy!” Tina’s voice came through the door, the petulant tone of earlier replaced with a childish panic that made Isabel’s blood freeze. “Mummy, come out, I can’t get in!” She cried as she tried the handle again and again. “Mummy, it’s stuck. Open the door, she’s not moving mummy, Gemma’s not moving.”
Panic threatened to engulf her. She tugged at the chair as the handle swung violently up and down under Tina’s attempts to open the door, but couldn’t get it out. She felt her temper begin to rise. Why won’t the stupid girl stop? But she couldn’t co-ordinate her mouth and brain to tell her. Couldn’t get the words out.
Her breath was coming fast and hard, her body in full panic mode. She forced herself to stop and take a deep, slow breath and concentrate on speaking.
“Let go of the handle, Tina!” She managed to hiss through gritted teeth.
The handle stopped jumping and she finally got the chair out of the way. She pulled the door open, pushed passed Tina and ran to her baby girl lying motionless on the floor.
The beeping of machines, muffled footsteps and hushed murmurs of the hospital served to numb Isabel’s brain. She closed her eyes and leant her head against the cool white wall behind her as she sat beside her youngest daughter’s bed. She tried to ignore the pins and needles in her legs caused by the hard plastic chair she had been sat on for the last three hours, and just enjoy the momentary peace from Tina’s constant questioning, complaining and running commentary. She’d already been gone for three minutes, Isabel estimated, and she only had another three, maybe four, tops, before she came back from the toilet. Four more minutes of peace and quiet.
She felt a twinge of guilt at even thinking such a thing after what had just happened to Gemma. Surely any other mother would be gathering her children protectively around her at a time like this and doing other loving motherly things like savouring the smell of their hair; not plying them with soft drinks so that they would spend more time in the toilet.
She fidgeted in the chair. Three more minutes. She opened one eye and glanced out of the corner of it at the bed next to her. Gemma was still sleeping, her little arm in a sling, the harsh florescent lighting of the ward making her face appear ashen and lifeless.
She couldn’t look at her. She could watch her out of the corner of her eye but she couldn’t turn her head and actually look straight at her. Every time she tried she saw her lying next to the sofa, her arm at an odd angle, body still and lifeless, and thought she might throw up. She had been so sure she was dead. So sure that when she ran over to her she had just knelt there looking at her, not doing anything to help her.
God, what if there had been something I should have been doing. She kept asking herself. What if she was dying and I could have saved her? What if she was choking on something and needed me to get it out of her throat, or , or. She didn’t know what but she was sure of one thing, she should have done something, anything, to make sure Gemma was OK, not just knelt there and looked at her.
Her hands started to shake again at the thought and she wedged them between the hard plastic chair and her legs.
In the end it had been Tina’s quiet, trembling voice that had brought her back to her senses. “Mummy? Is she OK mummy? Should we phone an ambulance?”
Which of course, in the way of all six year olds everywhere, she proceeded to tell everyone they came into contact with, embellishing it at each telling.
“Mummy didn’t do anything, she just looked at her,” she said to the ambulance men when they arrived. “Mummy forgot to call the ambulance, I had to remind her, didn’t I mummy,” she told the nurse that put the sling on Gemma’s arm. “My sisters sick. I saved her,” she announced to the lady behind the cash register in the canteen.
Each time, it felt like someone was shoving a hot needle directly into Isabel’s heart and yet she didn’t try to stop her or correct her.
Partly because she knew the next version of the story would be “mummy did nothing and then told me not to tell anyone” and partly because she just didn’t have the energy, but mostly because it was true.
How long would I have knelt there like that if Tina hadn’t been there? She wondered, sickened at herself. Would I have called an ambulance? Would I really? She didn’t know any more and it terrified her. She had never felt like this before, even through the worst times she had always felt like a proper mother, competent and sure of her role. She had always known she would do the best for her children no matter what, but now…now she didn’t know what to think.
She could hear Tina making her way down the corridor towards them. She had obviously found someone new to tell the tale to “…and mummy had locked the door and wouldn’t let me in so I had to break it down and then she pushed me over and I got a bruise on my arm, look…”
Ah, yes. She had forgotten about the bruise. The bruise that she was sure she had nursed with special magic bruise cream, kisses and ice-cream the day before when she fell off the swing.
“…and then I told her to phone an ambulance and we all came here and Gemma just hurt her arm. I hurt my arm too daddy, look. Mummy pushed me over.”
It was Nathan.
Great. She had completely forgotten she’d called him. With a deep sigh Isabel opened her eyes and prepared to face the wrath of her ex-husband.
A few seconds later the grey curtain swooshed open and a furious Nathan stalked in.
“Just what the hell has been going on here, Isabel?”
He barely even glanced at Gemma’s little body on the bed, Isabel noticed, but in a numb kind of way, as if she was removed from the whole scene, watching it from afar rather than being part of it.
“Daddy’s mad at you, mummy.” Tina said knowingly from behind her precious fathers legs, clinging to him as if she were a baby.
She watched, from her strangely distant vantage point, as he looked down at his eldest daughter with the patient, understanding smile of someone who had not been stuck in a cubicle with her for the last three hours. This was, she thought with a bemused grunt, the same daughter he could only be bothered to spend 18 hours a week with, 9 of those being sleeping ones, when it suited him; which it frequently didn’t. He bent down so he was level with her and said “darling, why don’t you run off and find Joanne? Mummy and daddy need to talk.”
Oh double great. She’s here. Well of course she is, why wouldn’t he miss the chance to make me feel even worse than I do already, by bringing the perfect new girlfriend and her perfect size eight figure and impossibly shiny hair with him? She put her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Let him bring the entire parade of contestants for Miss World with him, she thought, I’m too tired to care.
The voices started to fade away after a few seconds and she became increasingly aware of how exhausted she actually was. Her body felt like lead and her head was too heavy for her neck. She could hear Tina whining to Nathan about not wanting to go, and him trying to persuade her that he really, really needed to talk to mummy alone. Then she heard Joanne come in and the two of them discuss whether or not Tina should go with Joanne, and then eventually she heard the word chocolate and assumed, with a small smile, that Nathan had broken one of his smug “Golden Rules of Parenting” and decided to bribe Tina to go away. Tina wasn’t having any of it though.
And who can blame her? She hardly ever gets to see her dad, why shouldn’t she want to monopolise him, she thought as the voices got fainter and fainter and her head started to swim. You go Tina, you stand your ground, there’s my girl.
A strange scraping sensation followed by an odd coolness slid up her back and her head suddenly felt as though someone had hit her hard from behind. Ouch, she thought from the strange murky place she found herself in. What on earth was that?
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SwordMistress reviewed Version 1 -
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TnD reviewed Version 1 -
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-Very engaging story. I found myself sucked in right as Tina was banging on the door. Wasn’t a big fan of the chocolate covered marshmallows, but you have to start somewhere.
-Realistically possible and probably has happened. You’ve got a parent (who I’ll discuss in the next bullet-point) who’s a single mom, raising two kids. One is an engaging six year old, with the patience of a rabid kitten. The other, Gemma, is a toddler(?). Didn’t catch the age.
-Isabel. She reminds me of some of my friends and co-workers, working to make ends meet. She’s a frustrated single mom and seems to have the feeling of being screwed at every turn. Isabel loves her kids, but sometimes gets frustrated with them, as most people do. That’s the impression I got of her. Oh and I’m not a parent.
-Hundreds and thousands of what?
-Ravish = lavish?
-The recap with Tina and the re-telling of the story seems like it should be put back where it happened, rather than later in the story. Just have Tina’s re-telling (as different as they are) pop up in different places. This would have sort of a background plot going on, while Gemma is in the hospital.
-”...OK[,] mummy…”
-”...too[,] daddy,...”
-”...sigh[,] Isabel…”
-Great story. Would love to continue reading it. Thanks for sharing and good luck.
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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First off, I’m sans children—that I know of. :)
The first page for me as a little bumpy. I’d suggest cutting the word “began” from the first sentence and changing the last to “bubbled”. To me, it reads with more immediacy.
The “hundreds and thousands” reference was lost on me.
A suggestion, “Isabel removed it from the flame …thousands. She began to dip. One at a time she dipped the marshmallows into the chocolate, then…” This is of course mere personal preference, but it seems that the sentences practically take up and start galloping with the uses of commas and “and”.
She closed her eyes / her eyes, (I think.)
for God sake / God’s
jumping on the sofa! / sofa?” came
HA. Barricading herself in the kitchen to enjoy a savory treat… I’d do the same.
I like the choruses that flow through this—”Drip, drop” & “Nice to dream”
A suggestion, “Panic to engulfed her.”--More immediate. Same with “She felt her temper begin to rise.” Okay, it’s obvious now my personal disdain for “begin”, “began” and the like--somewhat, almost, etc. I think, “She felt her temper rising.” Connects more with the visceral response of her panic.
”...hiss through gritted teeth.” Great description.
I think there should be a scene break (#) after ”...on the floor.”
chair she had been sat on / she had sat on
”...the harsh florescent…” This sentence is another great description. One of my favorites.
Around the middle of the story, Isabel begins to realize with crystal clarity her grievous error for indulging in a few minutes of personal bliss. I think her character is rendered quite well, especially in this part.
”...the ambulance men…” Perhaps “paramedics”?
”...Nathan stalked in.” Perhaps “stomped”? To me, “stalked” brings to mind careful steps—Not something I personally do when I’m pissed off.
who can blame her? / could blame
She hardly ever get / got
Overall this was a great beginning. Isabel is obviously flawed (Who isn’t in some way?), but not to the point where she’s unlikeable. She also seems fully-realized about her mistake which lends a greater sense of verisimilitude to the piece. I really enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing.
-Curt
Howard_Bushart reviewed Version 1 -
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It’s a nice story, engaging characters who pique the reader’s interest. I, of course, have some nit-picky comments to bring to the table as well. The narration throws me a bit as it shifts between 1st and 3rd person voice in several instances. I know it’s internal dialogue and the narrative voice is taking the God’s eye POV but I think this needs to be clearer because the reader has to stop and puzzle it out.
I’m an American and I have no idea whatsoever “hundreds and thousands” are. (But they sound yummy).
Oh, sod it, she thought … might be “Oh, sod it,” she thought. This is clearer.
Why isn’t Isabel burned? Or is she? The chocolate is still fluid, therefore hot? Last I saw of it in the pan it was bubbling.
In action passages, you can increase the effect by using active verb forms. For example on page 3, “Her breath was coming fast and hard, her body in full panic mode” is more immediate as “Isabel panicked, her breath coming hard and fast.” Or something to that effect.
An unfinished thought might be indicated as follows ”...throat, or , or—.” Actually, that should be a long dash but, again, I don’t know how to make that happen in an Urbis box. I’ve also seen it done with the use of ellipsis (which technically isn’t right), thus ”...throat, or, or …”. This is where a style manual is darned handy. Little Brown Handbook is a good one.
Probably get by with a dash or comma here “but now…now she didn’t know …”
”...bemused grunt…” is an odd image for me. Smile, look, sigh, tilt of the head etc. but “grunt” just doesn’t sound right. Of course, it might just be me.
I think this is a very good effort and it’s certainly caught this reader’s interest. Isabel is a believable and sympathetic character thus far and the others, well, the others are flat at this point but for Tina who is a pretty good character herself.
Good job.
AProphetForHope reviewed Version 1 -
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1) Is the story immediatly engaging? – No, which is a shame. I think the reason I don’t find it IMMEDIATELY engaging is that there’s no internalisation in the very first paragraph and there’s no real question or hook to draw me in. Personally, I just think the first paragraph needs a little help. The grip really kicks in when she can’t get the door open. Really good work here!
2) Do the characters seem realistic? Tina’s awesome! I love kids but this is just the age I want to drop kick them through windows. Irritating and in your face she’s just like any kid her age who hasn’t grasped the ins and outs of social interraction yet. I love her unwitting double agent personality too lol!
3) What do you think of Isabel? – I love her jaded internalisations. Good work. Think this sentence “over-wrought, over-tired and over-weight mums,” should maybe go over-wrought, over-weight then over-tired just to keep the flow better. Maybe that’s personal though, I like the iliteration. “Her hands started to shake again…” Great sentence and imagery makes Isabel come alive. She’s a good character, flawed yet a realisticly tired parent, short, snappy but penitent in the next breath. I like her.
4) are you parent yourself? NO – but I do consider myself very empathic. I always think of how other people must feel in certain situations. Helps when writing stuff like this.
5) Anything else you DO / DON’t like – Small stuff…
i) “She had been determined to get in to those size twelve pants for Gemma’s birthday party.” A little show vs tell work wouldn’t go amiss. You do most of the hard work really well so why dip out of her internalisation on this occasion?
ii) Lack of device - ”The scream came a few seconds later.” In situations like this it’s better to find a way of simulating these seconds rather than stating that time has moved on. Have the reader drift off with your character and then throw a scream in which breaks her reverie (and possibly her thought mid-sentence).
iii) “rips right through your stomach and into your heart.” I l;ike the rip and the stomach as that says fear to me. Hearts are all about love and this feels a little corny here. Give this sentence less love and more terrified panic.
iv) “She jumped…” this paragraph has the panic and the desperation but none of the internalisation that makes isabel so likable…
v) “She managed to hiss through gritted teeth.” I’m sure this wouldn’t be gritted teath which imply annoyance rather than panic or distress which would be the over whelming emotion.
vi) “The beeping of machines…” I ran right past this line cos I thought I was still in the other scene. just needs some form of page breaker here.
vii) “doing. She kept asking herself.” – run this into one sentence.
viii) ” “…and then I told her to phone” – I didn’t get that we were out of reverie here. Err something small like the actual sound of Tina’s abrassive voice echoeing off the hospital corridors would bring us back to scene perhaps.
xi) “down at his eldest daughter” Ouch! HIS eldest daughter. OO this cuts like a knife. niiiice!
x) Great work on HIS new missus too!
xi) Great ending too! Has she just fallen off the chair or what? I like it. It’s a good enough hook to drag me back for more. Keep at it mate! A bang up job so far…. read my reviews, I don’t get to say that too often ;)
trismugistus reviewed Version 1 -
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You asked some specific questions in your notes, so to address those:
I did find it immediately engaging, yes. You paint the picture of the situation very well and give a realistic portrayal of your main character who is easy to sympathise with and understand. My engagement did flag a little in the middle – but I’ll mention that later.
The characters did seem realistic and I had no difficulty understanding them or their “motivations” as it were.
I’m not a parent, not.
There are two comments I’d make. First off is a practical one (and this may be more to do with Urbis than your piece) the move to the hospital is very sudden and confusing. Some kind of break point indicator (such as *’s or similar) would help. As I say, Urbis may have killed those, I’ve had it happen to my own stuff, so it wouldn’t surprise me, but if they aren’t their then do include them as it helps the reader no end.
My second comment would be to do with the chair wedged under the door.
Firstly, the ‘traditional’ image of a chair wedge under a door handle has the chair at an angle, such that only the back two legs are touching the floor, with the front two in the air and the back under the handle. It was therefore somewhat surprising Isabel sat on the chair – it would seem odd that the chair was exactly the right height for this to be possible.
Secondly, the mechanics of quite why the chair can’t easily be removed from the door aren’t really clear. This could perhaps be more clearly explained as to why this is the case – it was the part that disengaged me a little, because I kept wondering why it’s so badly wedged?
Normally kitchens have smooth floors, which would suggest the chair should slide away fairly simply. Okay, the handle is going up and down, but can’t she just slide the chair down or across? And while the specifics are unimportant, the fact I was thinking these things means I wasn’t quite in the moment.
My suggestion would be to not use the wedged chair. Instead, the door could simply be “sticky”. Perhaps she could think that they never close the door because it always sticks, but she wants to shut Tina’s noise out. Maybe some comment about carpenters being so expensive?
Then, it’s her panic and the gloopyness on her hands that stop her from turning the handle and pulling in that “special way you have to use to open the door”.
This way you could also keep the bit about Tina saying Isabel locked her out – the door couldn’t be opened and she ascribes it to that, rather than the door sticking.
I hope that’s of some use – overall it was a good piece.
campb26593 reviewed Version 1 -
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The characters of Isabel and Tina seem genuine and engaging. Isabel’s deteriorating mental state is well described and I want to know what the origin of the mysterious sensation in the back of her head.
My one humble suggestion is that the terms “forgotten” and “completely forgotten” are used in relatively close proximity. You might want to find another way to say it in one of the occurrences unless you want that particular word choice to nip at the ears of readers. Maybe: “slipped her mind”?
Nice work.
libramoon reviewed Version 1 -
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The story is immediately engaging. The characters are realistic. It pulled me right in to their everyday domestic lives, then, whap, into possible tragedy. Isabel is a very real woman, mother. I can definitely relate to her fantasies and realities, insecurities, desires, fears about her mothering, anger towards her ex and his new woman. You made it real, because it comes right out of real life. You didn’t get in the way of that, but presented it sympathetically.
DCAllen reviewed Version 1 -
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OK, after the first page, yes, this pulls me in. You are building a good character in Isabel. And Tina is a marvelous little troublemaker – lots of potential there.
The first hiccup I see here is “Panic threatened . . .” This slows down the scene. Why not let panic engulf her? And how did the chair get under the door knob? Did I miss something?
Excellent. Just about the time I’m wondering where the father is, Nathan walks in. Very good timing.
In the end, I’m still interested in these characters and the predicament of the mother, Isabel. No, I’m not a parent, but I can feel her frustration.
Proofreading notes:
What are hundreds and thousands? This makes me think of money, but I think you’re referring to something else.
guilt induced = guilt-induced
for God sake = God’s sake (but written so many different ways)
All the over words here are one word: overwrought, overtired, overweight
sofa! Came (quotation mark missing)
span = spun ?
been doing. (should be question mark)
six year olds = six-year-olds
sisters sick. = sister’s
fathers legs = father’s
Oh great. She’s here. (needs to be in italics)
timrees reviewed Version 1 -
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I’m not a Dad, but have experienced being a step-dad and can relate to all the whole range of emotions experienced by every parent, although, as a step-dad, I supposes I have lacked the intimate experience of knowing that I am the only dad the child or children will ever have, which has proven to be the point, but enough of me! Yet you did ask…
Isabel is perfectly imperfect, as we all are and Tina is delightful (for the reader). I laughed outloud where she is spouting her condemnation of her mother’s lack of action and could clearly see her angelic countenance complete with halo beaming. The dialogue is simply excellent. In the panic scene I panicked. I was breathing faster and lived each moment. You have genuine talent and the characters leapt off the page right from the off…
If the rest of the novel matches the page turning start, then you have a winner here. I don’t foresee your having too much difficulty finding an agent so hold out for a damned good one. The characters are entertaining and the subject matter eternally topical.
Good luck with this, but I don’t think you’ll need it.
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