Family

Family are for life.

The little girl heard him coming up the stairs. She was petrified. There was nowhere to hide. The girl ran to her bedroom to escape him. She closed the door, then hid behind the untidy bed. Footsteps echoed as the man proceeded down the landing.
"Where are you, you pathetic child?" he yelled.
Please don't find me, daddy, she thought, knowing she'd been in this situation many times and it always ended badly.
The door to the room was pushed open as it hit the wall noisily. The child closed her eyes and said a little prayer.
The man stumbled to the bed, then kicked the side of it, while saying in a raised voice, "When I find you, you're in big trouble, girl."
She put her hands over her ears trying to ignore him. Suddenly a huge hand grabbed her hair and yanked her up. The girl screamed. She opened her eyes and saw him standing there with an enraged look on his face.
"There you are," the man slurred, his breath stunk of sewage. He clenched his fist.

..............................

Gemma awoke. She got out of bed, then put on her thick dressing gown. Downstairs Gemma heard her parents in the kitchen while mother prepared breakfast. Being a Saturday mum always cooked a fry up for her father, as he'd worked hard all week and enjoyed it at the weekend. Her and mum liked to eat more healthily, usually a bowl of cereal would suffice. Next week was her sixteenth birthday, she couldn't wait. Father had promised her something special. She loved him so much.

.................................

The girl wept for ages once he'd left. She sat on a chair near to a mirror. She was too scared to look at herself, in case there was more bruises, which he would blame her for after he'd sobered up. Once she'd found enough courage the girl of six peered at her reflection. Two dark bruises were observed, one on her forehead and another below her left eye. "Why, daddy, why?" she cried, thinking of her mum and wishing she was still there.
From the bedroom next to hers loud snoring was heard. For the timebeing the girl was safe.

.................................

On the landing Gemma peered at all the photos on the wall of her family. Such happy memories, she felt so lucky to have them. Her older brother had recently moved out to attend university. A few years ago he'd suffered from bad anxiety, but had now overcome it. Gemma was so proud of him. It'd been hard for them both.. If it wasn't for mum and dad, things could've been so much different.

..................................

A knock from the front door made the child jump out of fright.
Who could that be?
Daddy was still asleep in the adjoining room. As quietly as she could, the girl crept to the top of the stairs on the landing, then carefully made her way down. Once she'd reached the bottom, another loud knock was heard. Nervously the child walked to it, then got hold of the handle and opened the heavy door. Her daddy always forgot to lock it after being in the pub. In front of her was a tall man in a uniform. Beside him was one of the neighbours. The woman looked at the child clearly upset, then asked, "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"
The girl knew she couldn't say anything as she would get in trouble with her dad.

When the policeman entered the house he found a boy of eight unconscious in the living room, then called 999. After the father had been arrested, the girl stayed with the woman for the foreseeable future.

....................................

A few months later a foster family gave the children a loving home. The father went to prison for a very long time.

....................................

When Gemma entered the kitchen area she was surprised to see a big pink cake on the dinner table. She laughed, not understanding what was going on. "Mum, dad, it's not my birthday until next week?"
Her parents smiled. Her dad then said a little teary eyed. "I know you was only a young girl when you and your brother came to us ten years ago on this day, but the moment you entered our lives, all I'm trying to say is, me and mum love you very much, and we couldn't be prouder. Mum decided to make you a special cake on this anniversary, because we're so thankful."
Gamma ran to them and hugged them tightly. "And I love you too, mum and dad."

The End.

Reviews

[JayG]

• The little girl heard him coming up the stairs.

This makes perfect sense to you, because you already have context. But look at it as a reader, who has none of your context, has no idea of your intent, can’t hear the emotion you would place into the reading, and, has only what the words suggest, based on their background. Then, take it one step further, and add that if the reader has no context as-they-read, the words are meaningless. That’s a problem because there is no second, first impression.

So, to that reader? An unknown “little girl,” who could be three or nine, who lives in an unknown country, in an unknown century, heard an unknown male who could be of any age, situation, and disposition, climbing stairs leading to an unknown place, in an unknown type of building.

The girl could be at the top, and near the steps, or in a room where she can only hear the footsteps. So…while it makes perfect sense to you, to a reader the line is meaningless.

• She was petrified.

So this unknown female is very frightened, for unknown reasons? Perhaps the male is coming to comfort a girl who just had a bad dream? That fits the two lines. Perhaps, having pushed the dog off the balcony she’s terrified because the man noticed and is coming to take her to her parents? Perhaps...

All of them are equally likely, given the words so far. She knows what’s going on. You know. The man knows. But…the one you wrote this for? Not a clue, because you’re a victim of The Great Misunderstanding: Because you learned a skill called writing in school, you, like everyone else, assumed that all those reports and essays you were assigned trained you for any style of writing, not just nonfiction. And because of that, you’ve not yet looked into the writing skills the pros take for granted.

It’s a problem you share with pretty much everyone who turns to writing fiction, so you have a lot of company, and, it’s not a matter of talent or how well you write. It’s that you face two killer problems.

First, is that as you write, because it makes sense to you, you’ll leave out what seems obvious, but which the reader requires, then fill in the missing context as you read and never notice the problem. That's why you never noticed the lack of context in the opening lines.

Second, because the only writing techniques you own are nonfiction, any fiction you write will read like a report: A narrator, whose voice can’t be heard, and whose performance can’t be seen, provides a lecture on the events of the story, focusing on plot events.

But fiction? As E. L. Doctorow put it: “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” And no way in hell can the report-writing skills we're given do that, no matter what your talent or writing skill.

The answer? Pick up the tricks the pros take for granted, practice them till tjhey’re as intuitive as the ones you now use, and there you are. The library’s fiction-writing section is a great resource, but personally? I’d suggest Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, which recently came out of copyright protection. It's the best I've found to date at imparting and clarifying the "nuts-and-bolts" issues of creating a scene that will sing to the reader. The address of an archive site where you can read or download it free is just below. Copy/paste the address into the URL window of any Internet page and hit Return to get there.

https://archive.org/details/TechniquesOfTheSellingWriterCUsersvenkatmGoogleDrive4FilmMakingBsc_ChennaiFilmSchoolPractice_Others

Give it a try. If you’re meant to write the writing will be fun, filled with, “Damn…so THAT’S how they do it. And if you're not, you’ve learned something important. So, win/win.

I know this is far from what you were hoping for. But you can't fix the problem you aren't aware is one, and since you're investing the time to write a novel, I thought you would want to know,

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/

[steve]

Thank you for your review, means a lot. Not really sure what you mean though. I've posted this story on other short story sites, and it gets an average rating of 4.5 out of 5.

[steve]

I'll read your analysis properly, and hopefully learn something. Thank you and much appreciated.

[steve]

Wow. Thank you for the advice. I will definitely look into what you recommended. In all the years of writing stories no one has ever gave me that advice before. So thank you from the bottom of my heart.

[JayG]

Thank you for your review, means a lot. Not really sure what you mean though. I've posted this story on other short story sites, and it gets an average rating of 4.5 out of 5.

That's because pretty much all hopeful writers left school with the same misunderstanding, including me, when I began. So, they look at it and say, "That's just how I would do it." But were it a submission to an editor? The rejection would come on line one, for the reasons given.

When I do a critique I look at the structure. There's nothing writing with your writing, and for all we know you may be amazingly talented. But they offer degrees in Commercial Fiction-Writing, and you have to figure that at least some of what's taught there is necessary, right?

The thing we ALL miss is that school serves one purpose: To provide employers with a pool of people having a predictable and useful skill, as they view it. And what kind of writing do employers want from us? Reports, essays, and letters, all nonfiction. So what so what kind of writing we practice in school?

The result is that we write either a transcription of us telling the story to the reader, which can't work because they can neither hear nor see the performance, and so have the script minus the stage directions, or we "tell them" the story as a dispassionate out5side observer, with, "This happens...then that happens...she thinks thinks...she does that." That informs.

But the reader wants raw meat. They want to feel that they are living the adventure, as-the-protagonist, from within the moment that person calls, "Now."

[steve]

The girl of 6 stood at the top of the stairs and heard her father slowly coming up them.  She was petrified of him.  There was nowhere to hide.  The girl ran down the dimly lit landing to her bedroom.  She closed the door, then hid behind the untidy bed.  His footsteps echoed loudly outside her room.


   


   


    
















    

[JayG]

The problem you face is the classic: if the only tool you own is a hammer, everything will look like a nail. For all your life, you’ve been practicing, and using, the writing skills you own, till they feel intuitive and natural.

So now, when you're trying to change, you face two problems: First, you don’t yet have the tools of fiction-writing. But of equal importance, your existing skills will howl in outrage when you try do do something you know, with certainty, is wrong. They'll grab at th controls, "fix" it to be as it should, and you won't notice. Changing is an absolute b***h. It was one of the harder things I've done in my life.

Look at the paragraph you posted in terms of viewpoint. She’s the focus, yes, and it's all about her, but the viewpoint is 100% yours. What proof? You mentioned the bed as being “messy.” Does she think of it as messy, or just the bed? Is she focused on the hall being dim? Not if she can see to get around, because it’s always like that at that time of day.

Your descriptions are what you, the external observer notice. But she’s not paying attention to what she sees daily. And whose story is it?

Think of your own life. From waking to sleep, everything thast happens is an unending chain of cause and effect. Something catches your attention and you react to it. And in reacting, you most likely will be responsible for what next catches your attention. And if that's how you and I live, can she seem real if she doesn't live that way?

This article on writing the perfect scene gives an overview one of the techniques in that book I mentioned. Stop now, and read it before you go on, because everything I say is in terms of that technique:
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php

Place yourself in her viewpoint, with the observations, needs, and resources of a six year old. Is she terrified? Sure, but...she knows why. The father knows why. But if the reader doesn’t, nothing she does will truly make sense. Our goal, as writers isn’t to make the reader know what happens. It’s to make them literally become her, and live the scene, emotionally, as her. Remember, the reader learns what happens before she does, because they read of it before they read her reaction. In nonfiction, after they read of the event, they then read of what happens as a result. It’s what we call “telling.”

But in fiction, we make the reader know the scene as the protagonist does, including their desires and needs, their resources, their mood and evaluation of the situation, and, what resources they have. That way, the reader will anticipate the protagonist’s reaction, and react to it as if they were that character. And THAT’S the joy of reading. But in this, we don’t even know her name.

So...in her point of view such a scene might be more like…

- - - - - - -
Stella sat in the near darkness of the hallway outside her bedroom, listening, whispering, “Please come home, Mommy…please come home,” over and over again. But then, before the sound of the front door opening came, footsteps came on the stairs, as they had before, too many times.

Memory of those times—of the smell of his breath and the feel of his hands—nearly paralyzed her, bringing a stream of tears. But with them also came the knowledge that she couldn’t just wait where she was.

Perhaps she could hide till Mommy got back from work? It probably wouldn’t work. She knew that, but still, she hurried into her room, as those footsteps steadily came closer.

She looked around. She’d tried to hide in the closet the last time, but he found her. And under the covers wouldn’t work. Maybe under the bed? That way, if he looked, and saw her, she might be able to slide out the other side, then run downstairs and outside before he could stop her.

It wasn’t a plan she had confidence in, but it was the only one she had, so she slid her six year-old body under the bed and held her breath, because…
- - - - - - -
Your story? No…not your characters, either. Nor is it great writing. It’s a quick example of another way, an emotion-based approach. Showing her world instead of telling about it. There’s no narrator in the room with her, talking to the reader, reporting and explaining. Instead, we stick to what matters to her moment-by-moment. Look at it from a motivation/response viewpoint.

1. We begin with her name to give the reader someone to identify with. Because it is the first line we don’t know what motivated her to speak, but what she says pretty much identifies it as a reason for her to be upset, and is, also, her response.

2. Then, SHE notes the footsteps, and will react to them. I used that reaction to slip in some backstory, that mom isn’t home and what’s happening has happened before—because she isn't—and is to be feared. Her response is to remember what matters to her, In doing so, the reader gets more backstory, and, has direct sympathy for HER plight, as against being informed of it and saying, "Uh-huh." In other words, the reader’s response is emotional. Her reaction, and remembering is the motivation for her to run to the bedroom.

3. Her reaction is also the motivation to seek a hiding place, and analyze what’s around her for fitness for that task. Her action is to hide under the bed. And as she does, because you and I wouldn’t fit, it was the perfect place for me to give her age. Of note, I also chose it because it's a hook. Her plan is sound, and she might make it, so the reader will want to know if it works, giving them an emotional investment in her success—especially if I've made the reader begin to care about her.

Each of the above M/R units acted as a tick of the scene clock, to give the reader the feeling that time is passing for her and the reader at the same rate, as they read. Any interruption by the narrator, for a lecture, history lesson, or gossip, would still the scene-clock and kill any momentum the scene might have.

Make sense?

That book I recommend is the genesis for that article I steered you to, and much, much, more.

Hope this helps