with Kathryn Price, Co-director at Cornerstones Literary Consultancy.
Fault Lines by Mary Rose McCarthy
Green,
dappled light, fell in diamond shapes on the pine needle floor. She smelled the
sticky-sap resin and tasted bits of old rope. The old chair seat, once brown,
was chipped and rotten in places. The chair-back had been sawn off and replaced
with the four ropes that secured the home-made swing to a tree branch in the
grove below the house.
There
were no more than five or six trees here but the children liked to call it a
grove; as if it was a mini forest of giant hardwoods rather than a motely copse
of scraggly larch and spruce. To get a
decent swing the girl sat on the battered seat, gripped the ropes beside each
hand at a height slightly above shoulder level, pushed back with her feet till
they were nearly off the ground then swung forward with all her strength. If she did it properly, the momentum sent her
soaring into the cobalt sky. If she did
it properly, each successive swing sent her higher and higher delirious on the
success of its own pendulous movement.
As
she sailed into the blue she imagined a pirate on the sea, or the Famous Five
out for a day of adventure exploring.
The air rushed against her face and whipped her hair into her eyes. The girl loved the feeling of freedom and
daring being on that swing gave her.
She
then tucked her feet under her and launched up into standing position, feet
firmly planted on the seat, arms bent at the elbows as she hung on the ropes.
The ropes burned her hands she griped them so tightly. She felt that funny
drop-down sensation in her stomach on each upward swing. Clouds grazed the
hills she glimpsed in the distance between the lattice-like weave of branches.
Then
the ground spun beneath her face, with the dusty, feet-scuffed- earth close to
her mouth. Faster and faster, trees and diamond shaped sun, and glossy ivy
leaves went round her head. The rope bit tighter into her hands, she felt the
smooth wood of the worn seat against her cheek. Ropes criss-crossed and knotted
above her, spun wildly as they coalesced into a thick strand against her neck.
Barely
able to breathe she called and called, each shout carried over the hills and
clouds and patches of blue sky but didn’t reach as far as the house.
Critique by Kathryn Price
This
is an opening rich in atmosphere and sensory description. Colour, sound, smell
and even taste explode from the page and draw us into this scene which feels
drenched in promise – and menace.
Pushing
this sensory evocation even further, inhabiting the as-yet-unnamed girl’s point
of view more intimately, would help take this scene to the next level. At the
moment, it’s not obvious why the girl’s name is withheld (perhaps to maintain
an air of mystery or for plot reasons that we don’t know about yet) and without
a name, there’s a slightly contrived, distanced feeling to the references to
her.
This
isn’t necessarily a problem, as long as the close POV established in the
opening paragraph is maintained. However, after the wonderfully vivid she smelled the sticky-sap resin and tasted
bits of old rope we quickly shift back into a more externalised POV,
filling in the detail about how the swing had been made. Might it be possible
to rework this information so that it, too, feels rooted in the girl’s
viewpoint? For instance:
When the legs of
the old chair had finally given way, her father had taken the seat and attached
it with thick ropes to the branch above where she now sat. She always took a
moment to stroke the soft, worn wood, poke her finger into the holes, before
climbing on. She liked to picture them all sitting stiffly at the dinner table
and imagine that the chair was happier now than it had been then.
Of
course, this may not be quite right for the specific details and relationships
the author wishes to set up at this stage; but the aim should be to link the
description in this opening scene as closely as possible to the girl’s
immediate experience of it.
By
contrast, some of the details included here are a little too forensically
specific to be emotionally revealing. Take care that the mechanics of character
action don’t submerge the really important elements of a scene. In this
instance, there’s a focus on how and why the girl grips the ropes (see the
section beginning to get a decent swing…
of its own pendulous movement). Here, her actions feel too detailed: the
reader knows how swinging works and, presumably, the joy in going as high as
possible, and would prefer to be immersed in what it is about this girl, this swing, that makes the moment special.
The
following paragraph is certainly more revealing in this regard: the girl’s
make-believe gives us a warm insight into her thoughts (though even these could
be a touch more unique, less generic, and more specific to her). Ideally, the
joy she takes in the movement of the swing and of losing herself in her
imagination should be evident through her thoughts and actions, so that we
don’t need to be told that she loved the
feeling of freedom and daring.
Alongside
a greater insight into the girl’s perspective we could afford even more sensory
detail regarding the setting. This is one of those moments, quite literary in
tone (I’m guessing this will be some sort of literary or psychological
thriller) which benefits from an almost leisurely build-up of pace and detail,
allowing us to lose ourselves utterly in what seems to be an idyllic moment
before everything is turned on its head (both metaphorically and, in this
instance, literally).
So,
the more slowly and carefully the scene is set, the greater the impact of the
pay-off will be. I would have liked to know more about the season, for instance
(with the dappled sunlight and clouds it could be Spring, Summer or Autumn);
and the other children that are mentioned – are they anywhere near? Can she
hear them playing? What has happened prior to this scene, what is her mood? Is
she hiding after an argument or is she just a natural loner? These kinds of
additional details should have the effect of drawing us all the more closely
into the action.
When
it comes to the final paragraphs, more clarity is needed. At the moment the
writing shies away from describing what’s happening in too much visceral detail
and feels abstract and uncertain as a result; in fact, I had to read this twice
before I realised there had been an accident. This is probably deliberate,
designed to replicate in the reader the girl’s feelings of confusion; however,
the language could be clearer in terms of tone
so that it’s more obvious something bad has happened.
As
it stands, phrases like the ground spun
beneath her … glossy ivy leaves went round her head … she felt the smooth wood
… coalesced into a thick strand … she called and called sound too calm and
considered for what ought to be a moment of panic and terror. In essence, the
mood feels the same as it has throughout. Might it be possible to adjust the
tone slightly whilst also aiming to stay true to what she’s actually
experiencing? For example:
With a thump,
the ground was hurtling towards her, and her mouth was full of foot-scuffed
dust. Then the earth was above her – that wasn’t right – spinning dizzily so
that she couldn’t tell which way was which. The rope bit into her hands, had
twisted her elbow and wrist into an awful grinding angle, that made her gasp
and yelp as she scrabbled to pull herself upright. The seat was against her
cheek; her eye felt swollen. Ropes criss-crossed and knotted above her, twining
into a thick cord that was somehow around her neck. And now she couldn’t breathe. Through the
buzzing in her ears she could hear Nathan and Julia’s shouts from the lawn and
she tried yelling back to them but only a thin wheeze came out.
It’s
often tempting when writing about a character who isn’t going to appear in the
novel again to keep them at arm’s length from the reader, and in many ways this
makes sense – it’s a good way of signalling that the character is not ‘for
keeps’, and also of allowing the reader an emotional distance to protect them
from harrowing material. However, what we currently have here is a mix of
up-close POV writing and more distanced, allusive, authorial material, and the
balance doesn’t always feel quite right.
Since
this is a solitary, intimate scene, allowing us greater insight into the girl’s
viewpoint should help to build emotional intensity and a strong connection with
her. Together with an almost hyper-awareness of her surroundings this should
combine to create a sense of claustrophobia and tension that escalates towards
the final moments – for which we will be firmly, chillingly present inside her
head.
