"Chasing Light" (Working Title) CHAPTER 1- [New Version]

[JayceeEA]

UPDATE: Based on everyone's comments, I edited as much as I could. So this is an update of the former post, I removed the former post (this is BRAND NEW). I hope you enjoy it, although I'm still working on it. My humble requests are the same: Would love your constructive feedback. Does the story hook you in? Is it intriguing? Do you understand it?

CHAPTER 1:
A Journey of a Thousand Miles

June 1972

"I wish they'd just break up." Eva was sprawled out on the grass in the backyard, talking to herself. "Ah! my parents are killing me. How could they do this to me again?"

Friends of Eva Jenkins would never have guessed what she was, unless maybe she revealed it to them. But how exactly was she supposed to tell them? Perhaps, she could introduce herself as a time bomb just waiting to explode. But that would destroy whatever chances she had of making friends. So she sealed her lips each time she met someone. It was never written on her face because she hid her pain so well. Yet, in those moments when no one was around she remembered that her current location was only temporary.

For a thirteen year old girl she had moved about on the map of North America thirteen times, one for each year of her life. The fourteenth move would be like breaking the Guinness World Book of Records or something. She knew of no girl her age who was like her, always moving from one place to another. If there were any like her she would have recognized them by the fear in their eyes. She had always been afraid of moving. Even more horrific was the idea of moving away from a place that had become a sort of sanctuary. The experience brought about all sorts of bad feelings that were too complicated to explain to other people. She once read in a magazine that children are nothing but pawns on a chess board pushed only when the king gives the orders.

She looked around the yard for the last time, considering how forlorn the grass looked. Her darling father had sold the puppy too because he did not want to be bothered with transporting the animal. There were no longer any puppy yelps, and the silence of the back-yard was stretched as far as a rubber band could go. She loved her father so much, but his actions often surprised her. How he could just sell the puppy she had grown to love in the past eleven months, without her permission, was devastating.

She rubbed her temples as she felt the onset of a headache. She was tired of moving for many reasons. At first, it the cool thing to do. She got to see new places and buy new furniture for her room. But it was getting too much. If she moved again, she would have to make new friends. It wasn't that it was hard for her to make friends- she was beautiful, tall, had long silky jet-black hair, long eye-lashes that were naturally curved, and tiny eyes which earned her a nickname at school, "Chinese Eyes." She inherited those eyes from her mother who had some Asian blood in her family.

The problem was that she had no real friends. Her friends were usually the popular ones who saw that she was pretty and wanted her in their clique. They told lots of lies just to gain respect from their schoolmates. She became like them so as not to get booted out. But she wanted a real friend. Someone who'd always be there and who'd always be honest with her. Someone to grow with her as she matured into a woman. Someone to spends lots of years together. She wished she had gone to kindergarten with that person, and that they had gone to the same grades together, all through to eighth grade.

It suddenly occurred to her that this was not how she wanted to live her life. Enough was enough. She would go back into the house right now and convince her father to change his mind. What did she have to lose anyway? She would give him a piece of her mind, from daughter to father.

She entered the house through the back door, which led into a hallway, stumped into the empty living room, and saw him standing there smack in the middle with his back turned towards her.

"Dad, please don't make me do this." Her father turned to look at her.

She dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes glistening with tears. "Why do I have to go?"

"We can't just leave you behind, dear," he said softly. "We have to leave."

"Why? Dad, please."

"Eva, the airport shuttle is waiting for us outside. I suppose it can't wait much longer because we're not the only passengers. Please go get your bags, and would you tell your mother to hurry up too?"

All the things she wanted to say evaporated into thin air. She winced and ran away from her father's presence; up the stairs and into her room- soon to be someone else's room. Her mother was there, packing the last set of her things into a small black suitcase. She looked at the yellow painted walls with the dainty flowery wall paper at the edges. She loved flowery designs. Every one of her rooms had them. Frankie Valli of the Four Seasons band stared at her from the poster on the wall. So did the Beatles and the Temptations.

As the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, she enjoyed many luxuries. Her father worked as an attorney for a big firm in Washington, DC and he was the one who earned the big bucks, while her mother tried to contribute to the family's wealth from her measly teacher's salary. And the bigger bucks spoke louder of course. In all the years they moved, it was because her father's company wanted him to take up a long-term case in another city. This time, they had assigned him to Paris, after eleven months of finally settling in nicely at her school in DC.

Her mother followed her eyes to the wall. "Do you want to take your posters with you?" she asked.

"Not all of them, mom. I'll take the Frank Valli one." Eva used the back of her right hand to wipe the tears off her face.

"Frank Valli it is then." Her mom removed the poster from the wall and rolled it up. It was the last thing to go into the suitcase before they dragged themselves down the stairs. Her father was still standing where she left him, with his eyes fixated upon the fireplace.

"All set?" he asked.

"Yes, we are," her mom replied.

That was the last time she laid her eyes on that house. The move happened on a Friday. A day when the entire city bubbled with people thanking God that the last day of the week had finally come. As the vehicle moved down the street, she turned her head to look out of the window. It did not take any effort to notice the joy on the faces of the people walking freely on M Street- the woman who danced from side to side as she waited for either the Blue or Orange Metro train to arrive, or the circulator, or the 7th and 9th street buses (whichever one came first); the teenagers who ran around in circles screaming and disturbing the older folks who were also waiting at the same bus-stop; even the crack-heads with their broken teeth, walking in-between the cars stuck in traffic, and coercing passengers to give them some money for a one dollar dinner for themselves and their families. Everyone seemed to be sharing or contributing to the "happy" Friday madness. Everyone except her.

She'd been trying to avoid crying but couldn't do so any longer. She allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks, tears that were not as a sign of weakness but of anger; pure, deep-seated, unbridled anger. For the sake of the others in the vehicle her mother commanded her to hush up with a stern look on her face. The other people did not seem to mind, especially the big burly guy in the front passenger seat who sat there oblivious of the teenager crying and her mother telling her she must be silent or else she would get it, and by that she meant a slap on the face; the burly man sat there unperturbed reading a newspaper. He could care less. Roland Jenkins was also very quiet. One look at her father told her that his thoughts were far away. She wondered if he was now doubting this move. Whether he thought he was making a mistake.

The traffic gave way right then and the shuttle sped on towards O street, then 36th street, and then it turned left on M street again and continued toward US-29 South. The driver took the ramp and got on I-66 West. There was heavy traffic here too because other people were trying to get to the airport like they were.

On arrival the passengers got off and her father pulled out their suitcases from the trunk. Eva grabbed her suitcase and opened it to search for her diary. She didn't want to check it in.

It felt like a long walk to the entrance of the airport building. Each step hurt.

"Dad!"

"What, Eva?"

"Stop. Please stop. Let's just turn back now while we can. We don't have to move to Paris. At least, I don't."

"Let's not have this conversation now, Eva."

"But...please. I can explain what I mean."

For a brief second there, he glanced into her eyes with a pained look on his face. He dropped the handle of his suitcase and held her shoulders.

"You have no choice, darling."

"But I have a choice. I've always had one. Right now, I have many choices."

"What choices?"

"Papa, I have many choices. I can go to boarding school. I can live with aunt Rita. I can ask my teacher to take me in. I can..."

"We would never leave you behind."

"I am thirteen..."

"Don't try to be a smart-mouth to your father Eva."

They walked past all the local terminals and went to the international one. On reaching the security zone, her mother passed all the tickets to the guy at the security point. Eva held her diary close to her chest, as if it were the only thing that mattered to her in the whole world. If she had given up on something important to her within the last 24 hours, it was not her diary. Right now, the only thing that mattered were her memories. No one was going to take those memories away from her, even if she travelled to the ends of the earth.

Her parents were in their fourteenth year of marriage and their love was deeper than music, philosophy, or culture. But she longed badly for the opposite. She wanted her parents to end their relationship. They were elongating their own humanity but destroying hers by tossing her all around the globe. She wished things were different, that she knew how to destroy the lives of others, rather than always being the rat-bait.

[Aimée]

Yes, it is intriguing! She wants her parents to separate? What are they doing (besides moving all the time) that makes her want this?
The "also" in the last sentence of the first paragraph, "father's presence", "crabby" in the sixth paragraph, and "You did not need to make an effort to notice the joy" just seem a little odd. Also, when you said "we walked out the front doors and entered the super shuttle," it's in first person, and it almost sounds like they are entering a space shuttle or something. I don't know, that's just what I pictured at "super shuttle." lol
Until you told us Eva's age, it seemed to me like she was just a little kid. She seemed less than thirteen, the way she spoke to her parents. Her dad called her "baby" and she called him "Daddy." Also, I'm curious as to why she wouldn't want to move to Paris. If I was thirteen and moving, that would one of the places I would WANT to move. haha This could almost be a chapter one instead of a prologue unless your chapter one starts off a few years later or something.

[Claudie]

Well, you can colour me intrigued, but I have to say I wasn't overly interested until you got to the last paragraph. The reversal of the situation is great, though.

As to why it didn't work out, I think it's because I don't get a strong sense of the characters. I wouldn't mind if it was only the parents, but if I was asked what kind of girl Eva is, I'm not sure I could answer. Sometimes you give insight on her thoughts, but they do not seem unique to me. Up until the last paragraph, she acts like I'd expect any other girl. While I understand you want to keep the surprise about her desire to see the parents break up, I think the prologue would benefit from a stronger sense of her character. It would also help define her age. I was confused about it too.

Finally, minor nitpick:

The tears that fell down her face were not as a sign of weakness but of anger: pure deep-seated unbridled anger!

I believe this sentence does not need the exclamation point. The words are strong enough, and you don't need the extra emphasis.

Overall, I think you have a good start here. This could indeed be Chapter 1, depending on what is in your actual Chapter 1 (time-skip and all?). If you can afford to make it a full-fledged chapter, you should consider it seriously. Many readers won't read the prologues. But, yes, I'm getting on another tangent here. Their move is a good place to start, and this has all the potential to become a great prologue.

[JayceeEA]

@ Aimee...that was my intention, to make chapter 1 start a few years later. Nevertheless, I'm still debating with myself whether or not to include a prologue. Thanks for the corrections, I will make use of the corrections while preparing a second draft. Also I need to explain the main reasons why she didn't want to move, because you rightly said that most young girls will want to move to Paris. I liked that statement.

@ Claudie...you said,

As to why it didn't work out, I think it's because I don't get a strong sense of the characters. I wouldn't mind if it was only the parents, but if I was asked what kind of girl Eva is, I'm not sure I could answer. Sometimes you give insight on her thoughts, but they do not seem unique to me.

I just want to really thank you for that comment. It will shapen the way I write the second draft. I think I have a strong sense of the characters in my head, but have not yet put it on paper.

[lmitchell]

I agree with the comments from the previous posts. I most like the concept that your MC wants her parents to separate. It creates interest because it goes against the norm. I also found myself pondering the situation behind her parents' marriage. (They have been married for 8 years and she is 13.) I was drawn in to wonder if they were both her biological parents and unmarried when she was conceived or if she was adopted or a child from a previous relationship. I liked the interest that created for me as a reader.

The biggest drawback for me is the MC seems sort of "vanilla." (This was also mentioned by a previous post.) I know she is upset about the move and about her circumstances in general, but it would be good if her personality shined through more in the descriptions and dialogue. Is she a brat? Sassy? A martyr? Peacemaker? Does she have quirks? Adding in a bit more about your MC would give it more zing.

My favorite sentence in your passage is: "She did not know what she got from her father." It is such a flippant little tidbit tacked onto her description. I love it.

[Down the well]

I got the tone you were going for with this. I have a thirteen year old and they are very prickly at this age - the entire world revolves around them, I know.

I had a few questions, though. Is this a British family? Or perhaps you are? I associate the word "mum" with the English. "Mom" would be typical Americanese (no, that's not a word). Also, I was curious about the time period. The girl has Frank Valli posters - I'm assuming it's the sixties? But then you reference crack-heads on the street. I'm no expert, but that seems a more recent term to me.

I have to admit I skimmed the part describing all the roads and traffic leading to the airport. If you could get to the last paragraph a little quicker it would speed up the read and get your reader hooked a little faster.

And I didn't quite get this sentence at the end of the first paragraph: "They also become masks which cover the satirical mistakes of their parents." I just got ripped for this kind of imprecise writing in a critique. I don't know what you mean here, so I think it could be clearer.

Hope my comments help. I think you've got some good stuff here.

[Margo]

Hi there! Thanks for asking me to take a look at this excerpt. I’m flattered. I would emphasize, however, that all of what I usually read and write is commercial fiction, not literary. Some of the guidelines I write by and use to help with editing don’t necessarily apply in this case.

As to the excerpt, I would start out by pointing out, as others have, how intriguing it is to have Eva hoping her parents break up. I would call that your hook, for lack of a literary term. It’s your draw for readers who are wondering what’s wonderful and new and different about this story.

I think your writing has a very nice lyrical quality and some rich, gorgeous language that I really enjoyed. The concerns I have would be telling over showing, POV shifts, technical description, the lack of placement in time. I’ll point out what I mean and make some suggestions in the line-by-line:

For the line-by-line, your writing is in italics while my comments are in plain font.

As gorgeous as the writing is in your first paragraph (one line in particular), I would cut it. Not because it isn’t catchy or hook-y enough, but because it’s like a summary ahead of time of what your character should be living in front of your reader. It’s like saying, “The point I’m trying to make is yada yada yada. Now I’ll actually tell you the story.” Just tell the story.

The one thing I would suggest is finding a way to incorporate this line: ‘It is complicated, disorienting, unjust, and an undignified careless move made by parents.’ Gorgeous line, although I would cut it down to something like: ‘It is complicated, disorienting, unjust, and undignified.’ Those are powerful words, especially in combination.

"Daddy, please don't make me do this," Eva whispered.

As I’m sure you read in the other critique, I’m not fond of said bookisms. Mind you, they seem to be more acceptable in literary fiction, and there’s not really anything wrong with them in moderation. For instance, this one didn’t distract me in anything other than a purely technical context. However, all your dialogue tags are said bookisms. I would suggest asking yourself if you would rather have your dialogue stand as the star of your dialogue or would rather have people stop and notice the dialogue tags. Stopping can be a major problem; it’s an opportunity to lose your reader when they rise from the trance of reading.

I’m a major advocate of strong dialogue that only really needs tags to keep the reader informed of who is speaking. Usually that tag for me is ‘said’. Other times I use no tags at all, as you have done a couple of times. The speaker is clear from context in these instances.

Occasionally, very occasionally, I will use a bookism, usually something like ‘whispered’ or ‘muttered’ or something precise but not so evocative that I should have used stronger dialogue to convey what the tag is saying.

‘Nuff said. Just food for thought. I will note the bookisms as I go, but it’s for you to decide what you do or don’t want to do with them.

...had been forced to make new friends, hide her emotions, and move on with life each time.

This is both backstory and a case of telling the reader what you could be showing them through dialogue, reaction, and Eva’s observation of everything around her. Instead of having Eva tell the reader this, perhaps consider revealing it in dialogue when it becomes pertinent. The way it is summed up here, it is just touched upon in no real depth. I wondered how she had been forced to hide her emotions and why and at what cost. I don’t want to be told those answers; I want to learn from your writing what that looks like, how that sounds when she speaks to her mother, how that colors what she sees when she looks at the city or a family or another teenager.

"We have to leave now baby," her father responded, standing there with both hands to his side, looking helpless and avoiding his daughter's eyes.

Three quick comments. Needs a comma after 'now'. The bookism is ‘responded’, though it is a fairly harmless one. Also, ‘avoiding his daughter’s eyes’ could be construed as a POV shift. He’s not looking at her eyes. How does she know he’s purposefully avoiding her gaze? She doesn’t; only he knows for certain if that’s what he’s doing. Perhaps, instead, you can describe what Eva sees or what she knows from the past that makes her suspect he’s avoiding her gaze.

"The shuttle is outside waiting for us ok?

Needs a comma after ‘us’.

Her mother followed Eva's eyes to the wall.

Commercial writers get jumped on about this one quite a bit. :) Did her mother literally walk up to the wall or did her gaze move to the wall? Is Eva’s gaze on the wall or are her eyes literally on the wall? Literary writing gets a little leeway in this kind of figurative language, but I’ve also seen literary writers nailed on the movement of eyes instead of gaze.

"I'll take the Frank Valli one," Eva responded...

The bookism is ‘responded’.

Her mother smiled, although her own face looked crabby just like Eva's.

Hmm, I’d say comma after ‘crabby’, but I could see someone arguing against it.

"Frank Valli it is then."

Someone else already mentioned this. Frank Valli. The Beatles and the Temptations. Crack heads. TGIF (which sounds very modern, though I don’t actually recall when this phrase came into use). I think you need to set the time of the novel firmly and early on.

Eva and her mother went down the stairs. Her father was still standing there absorbing the silence of the empty space that had once been so full of life. After a few minutes he realized that his wife and daughter had come down the stairs.

The last sentence is a POV slip into her father’s head. The sentence just before that may or may not be, depending on exactly what you are trying to convey. If you are saying he is standing there in order to experience the silence, it’s a POV slip. If you are making an observation about his state of being (for lack of a better way to explain this) then it might stand just fine as is.

I would also point out the use of ‘went down the stairs’. There are quite a few of these colorless technical verbs like went or walked. There are many ways to interpret ‘went down the stairs’. Did they stomp, trudge, drag themselves, skip, run, flee, scurry? Each one changes the tone of the scene and conveys a different nuance. ‘Went’ conveys only movement in its most technical and vague extreme. This is really important when it comes to the airport scenes, which are very technical and end up being almost entirely devoid of emotion.

"Yes we are," mum replied.

Needs a comma after ‘yes’, and Mum needs to be capitalized as it is being used in place of her name. Also, ‘replied’ is the bookism. Again, it’s not one of the more abrasive ones.

A day when the entire city of Washington DC bubbled with people thanking God that the last day of the week had finally come and they were free at last. Thank God it was Friday!

These two sentences appear to pretty much say the same thing.

You did not need to make an effort to notice the joy on the faces of the people walking freely on M Street in North West DC-

North West Dc or Northwest DC? Also, just as personal preference, I think I would rather stay inside Eva’s head than have her speak to me by saying ‘you’. Would it not be just as easy to say: ‘Eva did not need to make an effort...’

And a totally anal retentive note on adverbs. I really don’t like most of them, especially the ones that usually get tacked to ‘walked’. ‘Walking freely’ is not nearly as evocative as something like ‘sauntering’ or ‘strolling’. In comparison, weak verbs with adverbs tacked on are washed out and pale.

...even the crack-heads with their broken teeth walking in-between the cars stuck in traffic coercing drivers and passengers to give them some money for a one dollar dinner for themselves and their families.

A little bit of odd construction here because the subject (crack heads) is so far away from the modifier (coercing). When reading quickly through it I first thought ‘coercing’ applied to the traffic. Perhaps something like: ...even the crack-heads with their broken teeth, walking in-between the cars, coercing drivers and passengers stuck in traffic to give them some money for a one dollar dinner for themselves and their families.

Eva and her parents just sat there staring into the uprising darkness as the sights and sounds of DC became even more and more spectacular.

More spectacular how? What sights and sounds? I don’t want a travelogue-like description, but I would like a sentence or two of what Eva would notice. What sights and sounds would have meaning to Eva, and what do they say about her mood, her view of life, her hopes, her fears?

Eva was thirteen years old and the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, lawyer and teacher. Eva was the tallest in every classroom she'd ever been a part of. She had long silky black hair, an oval face, long eyelashes, and very small eyes which was why her classmates gave her the nickname, "Chinese Eyes." She inherited those eyes from her mother. She did not know what she got from her father.

Personal preference again. I’d rather learn this in the course of getting to know Eva than have it dropped in my lap in one expository lump. I’d rather see Eva react to being the tallest girl yet again or to being called “Chinese Eyes” when it matters that someone is calling her that, for good or ill.

She looked out of the shuttle's window and observed that everyone out there in the world seemed happy about this summer Friday in May, except herself.

This seems redundant after the section earlier about TGIF.

The shuttle moved gradually onwards, away from Eva's family's posh ex-neighborhood in Georgetown towards Dulles airport in Chantilly, Virginia.

The two possessives in a row seem a bit awkward to me. We know this is Eva’s POV. I don’t think it would be confusing to change ‘Eva’s family’s’ to ‘her family’s’.

In that moment, it was as though the city was trying its best to pull this family back into its warm embrace, as if to say, "Don't ever leave me, please."

How so?

He couldn't care less.

How could Eva know this? It’s going on in someone else’s head.

His thoughts seemed to be very far away.

How so?

The traffic gave way right then and the shuttle sped on towards O street, then 36th street, and then it turned left on M street again and continued toward US-29 South. The driver took the ramp and got on I-66 West, a really busy highway. There was heavy traffic here too because other people were trying to get to Dulles international airport just like they were. On arrival the passengers got off the shuttle and her father pulled out their travelling bags from the trunk of the vehicle.

This is very...dull. Clinical. How is it pertinent to what is happening to Eva?

To Eva, each step was a hurting burden.

I’m unsure of this phrase. It sounds like the burden is hurting rather than Eva.

"Daddy, I don't want to move to Paris," she blurted.

The bookism is ‘blurted’, though yet again I’m willing to say this one isn’t really bad. I think my overall point is that you have quite a few of them in a very short excerpt.

And as someone else said, why wouldn’t Eva want to go to Paris? This is a character development opportunity. I would just suggest staying away from exposition for it.

"Let's not have this conversation Eva."

Needs a comma after ‘conversation’.

"But Daddy!!! Please. I don't."

Needs a comma after ‘but’ and the removal of two exclamation points. One does the job perfectly fine. Three look distracting and hysterical.

"You have no choice darling."

Needs a comma after ‘choice’.

"What choices Eva?"

Needs a comma after ‘choices’.

"Papa, I had many choices. I could have gone to boarding school. I could have lived with aunt Rita. I could have asked my teacher to take me in. I could have..."

So why didn’t she? Character development moment. Also, ‘aunt’ needs to be capitalized.

"Don't try to be a smart-mouth to your father Eva," her mum advised.

Needs a comma after ‘father’. Also, the bookism is ‘advised’, the only one you’ve used that I do really dislike.

He was not looking back at her, even though he knew she was looking at him.

POV slip. That’s going on in his head, not Eva’s.

He usually avoided eye contact whenever he did not want to get emotionally involved.

How does Eva know this? Right after a POV slip, it tends to look like this is going on in his head.

They walked pass all the local terminals and went to the international one.

Again, very technical, vague verbs.

Eva held her diary close to her chest, as if it were the only thing that mattered to her in the whole world.

I didn’t like the sudden appearance of the diary. Perhaps as they are getting their luggage from the shuttle, you could specifically mention Eva grabbing her diary.

Eva was older and wiser than her years. She had seen and dealt with a lot in the short span of thirteen years. No one was going to take those memories away from her, even if she travelled to the ends of the earth.

Again, I’d rather see this for myself than have the author tell me. That’s telling rather than showing. Overall, literary fiction is more tolerant of telling but not to the exclusion of showing.

Eva's parents were in their eighth year of marriage and their love was deeper than music, philosophy, or culture. But Eva longed badly for the opposite. She wanted her parents to end their relationship. They were elongating their own humanity but destroying hers. She wished things were different, that she knew how to destroy the lives of others, rather than always being the rat-bait.

Much more telling than I would like, but still intriguing. I’m very curious about ‘elongating their own humanity but destroying hers’.

That’s it for my comments. I hope they are helpful. You have a writing style that can be really lovely. Best of luck to you with this project.

[JayceeEA]

Wow....I have read all the responses and I am digesting every single thing. I want to take my time in developing a second draft, and to respond to each of your comments in full depth. Right now, I just want to make sure I say a heart-felt thanks to everyone who has put in the time to commenting on this first draft.

@Imitchell...I loved your interest as to whether those were her biological parents or adopted. I'm an organic writer and the story grows out of my heart, I'll see where those thoughts lead.

@Down the Well...you were right to pick on some British consciousness in this excerpt. I had British education but am currently based in the U.S. I'll have to be careful in picking one style of writing. Also, you're very observant--> Yes, this setting is based on the 60s, hence the Frank Vallie poster. This book will cross two generations, and this excerpt is from the first generation (the second generation will cross through 2010 hopefully).

A big thanks to Margo who I specifically contacted to do a thorough line-by-line analysis, I am so grateful. Hopefully, I'll be able to put all of this into the second draft.

[JayceeEA]

UPDATE: Based on everyone's comments, I edited as much as I could. So this is an update of the former post, I removed the former post (this is BRAND NEW). I hope you enjoy it, although I'm still working on it. My humble requests are the same: Would love your constructive feedback. Does the story hook you in? Is it intriguing? Do you understand it?