Opening Scene- "The Night House"

Hey all:

Wanted to take a moment and introduce myself. I'm a 21 year old college senior here at WKU. I'm a vocal music education major and I'm wanting to be a high school choir director - although a career as a bestselling novelist wouldn't be too shabby. I've wanted to join this forum for awhile now, so it's a pleasure to be here. Thought I'd post the opening scene of my novel I started as a junior in high school. The work is now completed, and we're off to the editing stages. Comments and critiques would be greatly appreciated, as I'm here to grow and improve on my craft.

The Night House

By: Ethan Kinkle

Chapter 1

            The tide began to roll in slowly, leaving a thin line on the sand, marking its travels. As the moon shone brilliantly, miles in the sky, it left a pale white echo on the water as it glistened on the shore. Every wave, every movement of the ocean though very similar to the casual eye, was remarkably varied in its actions. It makes it very easy to fall in love with the land and everything that surrounds it.

            An angelic chill filled the air as a cool wintry mist began to fall on the beach. As the snowflakes fell onto the wet sand, they melted instantly, leaving no trace behind. But to those who watched the snowfall, it was a beautiful sight to be seen.

            Alexandra Durand stepped outside, her bare feet sinking into the cold sand. She gazed out at the water as it cast its spell forty feet from where she stood. She began to walk slowly toward the shore, her white lace nightgown flowing violently in the wind. A small brown shell sat embedded in the sand to the right of her steps. She clasped her hands and looked out to sea and closed her eyes, her mind thoughtless for an instant.

            The wind whipped through her dark brown hair, sending stands flying in front of her face.  She was oblivious to this and to pretty much everything else in the world. Everything but her own thoughts, which for the most part were always racing, thinking about the miracle. The miracle that kept them together. The miracle that assured her things could never change, as they were fantastic the way they were.

            After standing at the foot of the shore for nothing more than a minute of two, she began to walk the beach as she found it comforting. She had taken this path so many times that it was almost as familiar to her as the darkest places in her mind. Perhaps that’s why she had always come back, because she knew this stretch of sand more than any other place on earth.

            And as she walked, she smiled as she thought about the miracle again. How fate would always play a role in her life and keeping it together, even in the darkest of times. And as her thoughts raced, she began to smile.

            He had come home.

Hi Ethan,

Thank you so much for your comments on my prologue of my Untitled Book.  Your input is sincerely appreciated and I'm glad that you enjoyed my writing.

About The Night House:

I think your storyline is great.  Was glad to read your second posting as well.  It does grab the reader into wanting to know more...which is the object of all of our books.  Therefore, successful.  Here are the things that I find, which I'm passing along as constructive critisism. 

"As the moon shone brilliantly, miles in the sky, it left a pale white echo on the water as it glistened on the shore"  I don't care to use "as the moon" and "as it glistened" in the same sentence.  Kind of redundant.  If I wrote the sentence, I'd probably do something like:  "The moon shone brilliantly, miles in the sky, leaving a pale white echo on the water as it glistened ont he shore." 

In the third paragraph you wrote, "A small brown shell sat embedded in the sand to the right of her steps."  When I read this sentence, I couldn't quite relate.  Living near the beach I visit often, and perhaps I'd change that single brown shell to a multitude of brown shells, giving the description a more realistic vision.

In your line, "She had taken this path so many times before that it was almost as familiar to her as the darkest places in her mind."  I think I would eliminate the word "almost."  I think that suggest a flaw in her familiarity.  To be as familiar as the darkest places is what made her return.

Again, I enjoyed your writing and look forward to more of the story.  Thanks again for your comments.  I will be making a few changes.

Lea (Storyteller)

Ethan -

very nice writing. I love your first line. The story intrigues me and I'm curious. Your writing is very easy to read, but there are two things I'd look at - first, watch the adverbs and weak words like almost, mostly, pretty much, very. Your writing it too good to be watered down by words like these. The second thing is harder to explain, and maybe it's my journalistic leanings. This seems like literary fiction, so maybe you take this with a grain of salt. I'd make the lines cleaner, cutting anything that's not absolutely necessary to the story - like the line about the shell embedded in the sand, it's probably not necessary. Stephen King's book, On Writing, has great stuff to say about writing clean. Best wishes. 

btw - I was a music major too, but the writing was always my first love.

blessings,

Cara

Blessings,

Cara Sue

kidfriendlyorganiclife.blogspot.com

"It you are what you eat, and you don't know what you're eating, how do you know who you are?"

Thank you so much! As I'm going through and editing, I am definitely getting rid of some of those extra words, to help make things more concise.