Anja Boersma
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Oh Gill, that would be fantastic!
Well, maybe he’s working on that right now … š
Hi Alison,
This week with the PD’s left me feeling exhausted … But your fun chapter with Noah’s adventures certainly helps lift my spirits!
My comments:
WEEK 4, old:
Noah lay in bed, unable to sleep, while the wind whipped around their little house, battering the windows as if trying to break through. It didnāt help that the side gate had been left open and kept slamming. As he anticipated the next bang, he knew heād have to do something if he stood any chance of getting to sleep. Knowing Mum had gone to bed and not wanting to disturb her, he threw a baggy sweater over his pajamas and tip-toed downstairs. When he opened the back door, a wild scene met his eyes, with every plant fighting to stay connected to its roots. Bracing himself, he stepped outside, clasping his arms around his middle to keep his sweater anchored. Above, the sky was a blur of ghostly clouds streaking across the dark expanse. I LOVE LOVE LOVE āthe blur of ghostly clouds streaking across the dark expanse.ā
Final paragraph
A furious wind battered the little house, rattling the windows, shaking the tiles, and gleefully slamming the side gate.Ā Unable to sleep, Noah jumped out of bed. Someoneās got to close the gate, and Mumās asleep. He threw on his baggy, granny-knitted jumper and shivered as he wondered what might be lurking out there in the night. Why did he forget to latch the stupid gate? Does he always have to be so brave? Yes, got to be brave for Mum, like always. He can do this. Heās the Mission Impossible guy. One of his tricks to make himself feel tough. Noahās thoughts are all over the place ā¦ It is better than the original version but Iād really like to see something physical instead of mostly his thoughts (flexing his biceps in his Spiderman PJās under the granny-knitted jumper maybe?). Ā
PD1
A furious wind battered the little house, rattling the windows, shaking the tiles, and gleefully slamming the side gate.Ā If the gate hadnāt been left unlatched, no one would have had to venture outside. All could have stayed warm and cozy in their beds. The unfortunate one, whose bedroom was on that side of the house, was Noah. If he wanted any sleep, he would have to do something. Maybe instead of āNoahā say: a young boy named Noah. He was quite a special young boy. [a boy on a mission to save the planet? Maybe thatās too much though, but I think for MG it might be okay.]
PD3
Unable to sleep, Noah jumped out of bed. Someoneās got to close the slamming side gate, and Mumās asleep. Why did I forget to latch the stupid gate, he thought, as he threw on his baggy, granny-knitted jumper? [this sentence feels closer than PD3, feels like 4 at least] Should he wake Mum? No, his fault, so his mission. [feels like PD4] He would face whatever might be lurking out there in the night.
PD5
Got to do something about that gate. Why does he always have to be so brave? Got to be brave for Mum, just like always. He can do this. Heās the Mission Impossible guy. One of his tricks to make himself feel tough. I canāt visualise this, thereās too many thoughts. If, instead, youād let him test his biceps to feel like a Mission Impossible guy ā while wearing his Spiderman pajamas? ā that would be nice. Sorry! This IS the PD5 assignment of the homework! See how it can get on someoneās nerves real fast?! Sorry! Itās a great PD5 but I got into editing mode.
Please find a way to squeeze that terrific sentence āthe blur of ghostly clouds streaking across the dark expanse.ā back in there, Alison!
Anja
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Dear Alison,
Thank you for your thoughts and comments! So sweet of you to wonder whether I did something ‘intentional’ … because I didn’t … Ha!
Yes, yes, our PD-obsessed heads are spinning like Linda Blair’s in The Exorcist …
And we need priest Debi to set us straight!
Thank you for your third-option-suggestion … I like it but I would also to be inclined to put that in past tense, intuitively.
Instead of: āNow why, at his age, does he still listen to his dear old mother?ā
I’d write: āNow why, at his age, did he still listen to his dear old mother?ā
I like it a little better but can’t explain why. I think it’s just more usual in books to use past tense.
Thanks again.
Anja
Hi Katie,
You’re so sweet to say you want to sit in a cafe with Wendall!
There was once a cute little Japanese teahouse in London Soho, Berwick Street … I would sit there and write using pen and paper, amidst all the laptop girls, I don’t know why I can’t do it at other places because there’s laptop girls everywhere.
Anyway, thank you very much for your astute PD observations …
PD 2 is the hardest to grasp, I think, that one inbetween 1 and 3 …
So I don’t know if
“On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeated once more what passengers already knew, that the 4:25 from Leeds didnāt go because itād been damaged in the storm earlier.”
is a pure 2 or also falls under 1. I’m very insecure about it!
“Wendall time”, ha!
Anja
Hi Lucia,
Thank you for your PD’s input!
No, I’m not going to correct you! Ha!
Somehow I find it easier to see PD’s in other people’s work. I’ll wait for Deby, I’m not gonna argue about this subject! I said somewhere that PD1 is about facts and PD5 is about feelings and I’m very proud of that realisation, but everything inbetween … mum’s the word.
I’m also glad I’m not writing in first person with Wendall! I compared it to self-flagellation at a Jeruzalem wall … Miserable!
Anja
Good morning Chithrupa,
Thank you for your thoughts!
I like your suggestion for Wendall ‘jumping at the sudden metallic cackle’.
Might as well incorporate it now!
“I wince when I hear the metallic cackle. Goodness, is that loudspeaker across my head? If I’d been standing any closer I might have –.
And what does it say?
I listen to the bad news, no train, of course, but tons of — apologies, apologies, apologies.
And I feel stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Well, I can see how PD5 gets tiresome really fast … We’re not at a Jeruzalem wall, self-flagellating …
But a better PD5 for the exercise.
Thanks again!
Anja
Hi Kate,
Thank you for your thoughts!
So much meaning to “now” … I didn’t think it would distance us a bit, tbh! I thought that by saying ‘a man’ whereas Wendall would think of himself as ‘Wendall’ that kept it PD3. A man in general would also have trouble finding a seat, but since we ARE talking about Wendall, I also agree that it’s intimate and therefore also PD4/5. I guess that makes it ambiguous.
Somehow you inspire me to improvise, ha!
Full-blown PD5:
“Why did I listen to bloody Mother?” “I could have been in my comfy car listening to Radio Four, instead of doing the smelly train shuffle …” “Oh, but he knew why he listened to Mother, and it wasn’t because she wouldn’t stop nagging if he didn’t. It was because somehow, she often made sense with her reasoning. There’d beĀ nothing worse than her triumphant ‘I told you so, didn’t I?’ if he’d come home two hours late for supper. It was the path of least resistance he always took, always. He was pathetic.”
That you put the ‘Stupid stupid stupid’ with the rhythm of the train … that’s so deep of you.
Thanks again.
Anja
Hi Gill,
Woke up this morning and thought about your (rhetorical?) question of “has anyone started with PD5?”
And came up with the answer of ‘no’! And I think that’s because we’re inclined to start at 1! Maybe because things always start at 1, not at a countdown from 5 to 1, or maybe it’s because PD1 is all about ‘facts’ and PD5 is all about ‘feelings’? And how can we feel anything if we don’t know any facts?
Thank you very much, my dear Subconscious Working Overnight!
And thank you, and everyone else, for being astute observers.
Anja
Hi Gill,
Sad to say we don’t have Channel Four in The Netherlands, just Beeb 1 and 2 and the international one. I will look it up online, I am curious about Josh!
And thank you for showing me what a REAL PD5 looks like! It’s bloody nice of you!
Anja
Hi Paula,
Upon re-reading what I wrote: I fully agree with you (and Gill).
PD 5 is only the ‘stupid stupid stupid’!
I was really holding back there … sticking to my four sentences.
Thank you!
Hi Kate,
Agreed with Paula, your writer’s touch is so delicate …
As to Point of View:
PD1 ā moved to 3rd person
No men lived in this house, so it was strange to see Harryās overcoat hanging in the kitchen. She touched the heavy wool collar with her fingers, then slid her hands down the arms, into the pockets. Right at the bottom of one pocket her fingers found something unexpected. An acorn.
PD1 can easily be an external/omniescent narrator. This might not be the place to refer to Harry as ‘Harry’. And I think āSheā should be āThe maidā or āthe young girlā touched the heavy wool ā¦ And āthis houseā sounds almost too specific, Iād want to know what kind of house it is but from a distance, e.g. āthis servantās or farmerās houseā. But then: do servants have houses? I donāt expect them too but Annieās aunt may have done well for herself.
PD2 3rd person
Sheād not seen a manās clothes in the house before. She stroked the collar, picturing Harryās thin, white shoulders beneath the heavy wool, running her fingers down the arms of the coat. She wondered if heād left anything in the pockets. Sure enough, deep inside, she felt something hard and rough and smooth. An acorn.
PD2 is a little closer, close enough to name Harryās name. Should it be his full name or just his first name? And also Annie’s name? I think thatās a good question but I donāt know the answer.
PD3 3rd person
A manās clothes in this house? Never.
VERY STRONG VOICE here. Iām leaning towards PD4 or even 5 because itās such a strong opinion being stated.
And yet.
Soft, soft collar, heavy wool. Harryās shoulders, thin and white beneath the weight of it, she could almost feel them. Her fingers slid down his arms: whatās in those pockets? Those angel hands of his were here, right here ā had they left their light inside for her to find? THIS READS PD4 to me.
Yes! Something stirring, deep, deep in the darkness. Something hard. Rough at first, then smooth. An acorn.
PD 1-5 3rd person
No man lived in this house. Harryās coat was like a stranger in the kitchen. Annie stroked the collar, imagining his thin white shoulders beneath the heavy wool, running her fingers down his arms (but itās not his arms but the arms of his coat, I found this a little confusing, maybe say: ‘the arms’?). What might the pockets hold? Could Harryās angel hands have left their light inside for her to find? Yes! Deep, deep inside the pocket, something stirredā¦
I think that maybe you could zoom OUT a little more and even the zooming in … I think for the purpose of the exercise it’s really okay to try it in Annie’s voice. When Debi says she sounds too sophisticated I understand that’s because YOU are sophisticated, ha! But I think you could turn on a knob in your head and switch it to Annie’s young maiden’s head – if only for this exercise.
Anja
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Hi Chithrupa,
I think maybe I was confused it’s because there is no aggression in this scene … I can imagine Xander would feel aggressive upon realising he’s been murdered, of course, or even dealing with being anaphylactically-shocked to death! Maybe you brought out his more subtle side with his memories of Mum, and that’s still commendable – that Xander himself does not have just the one voice but several. It makes it more three-dimensional.
Still, this is a highly humourous scene!
Anja
WEEK 4
These are the original first four sentences of the story. The first two are clearly PD1/2, the others PD3, I think.
The 4:50 pm from Leeds to Heptonstall was crowded. On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeated once more what passengers already knew, that the 4:25 from Leeds didnāt go because itād been damaged in the storm earlier. (PD 1/2)
Wendall Knightley shuffled along the corridor and held his damp umbrella in front of his wax raincoat. The three or four passengers in front him stumbled onto any empty seats before he did and settled down triumphantly as if participating in a game of musical chairs. (PD3)
REWRITE:
PD1/2
The 4:50 pm from Leeds to Heptonstall was crowded. On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeated once more what passengers already knew, that the 4:25 from Leeds didnāt go because itād been damaged in the storm earlier.
A man in a wax raincoat shuffled along the corridor, his damp umbrella in front of his chest. Heād have to wait until the passengers before him sat down before he could find himself an available seat.
PD3
The 4:50 pm from Leeds to Heptonstall was crowded. On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeated once more what Wendall Knightley already knew, that the 4:25 from Leeds didnāt go because itād been damaged in the storm earlier. It was most annoying, but such was British Rail for him, filled with delays and other unpleasantries. Now how was a man to find a seat?
PD5
On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeats what I already know, that the 4:25 from Leeds was damaged in the storm earlier. Of course it is; itās winter and British Rail can hardly deal with fallen leaves, let alone fallen trees.
I should have taken the Mazda but Mother advised against it, said the traffic would be horrendous on the way home. Now why, at my age, do I still listen to my dear old mother? Stupid stupid stupid.
Note: I think if I say āNow why does a grown-up man still listen to his dear old mother?ā that makes it PD 4.
REWRITE:
The 4: 50 pm from Leeds to Heptonstall was crowded. On the platform, a metallic voice through the loudspeaker repeated once more what Wendall Knightley already knew, that the 4:25 from Leeds didnāt go because itād been damaged in the storm earlier.
God forbid that British Rail would know how to pick up a fallen tree when oftentimes even fallen leaves proved too much of a challenge. He should have ignored Motherās advice and taken the Mazda instead. Stupid stupid stupid.
I don’t know why I was so scared, I think it’s okay. But is ‘okay’ good enough? Maybe not!
Anja
Hi Chithrupa,
What a fun read! I looked up who Rico was and learned he was the macaw, interesting! (I mean, not a nasty kid or cat). But that’s about the story and I’ll talk about PD’s now (a bit of avoidance of the subject here, still).
PD1:
The Aviary was big enough to fit a thousand tropical birds. The roof was made of glass and perches were carved. But none of the other birds apart from Rico lasted more than a few days (since youāre mentioning Ricoās name, I feel itās not PD1 but 2). A Toucan once came close and lasted a whole afternoon. In the end, she was cowering behind the carved perch post, clinging on for dear life (PD3? Because of the focus on the toucanās emotions?).
PD3:
Mum had grand plans for the aviary, glass roof and room enough for a thousand tropical birds. Rico, however, had plans of his own. None of the other birds lasted more than a day, the glass roof. The squint-eyed toucan with a stubborn streak came close and lasted a whole afternoon. We found her cowering Āā hiding behind the carved perch post clinging on for dear life. (PD3, agreed)
PD 4-5:
Iād always wanted to catch the architect and subject him to medieval punishment. Sadly, it was illegal, last I checked criminal even. Glass roof and British sun, Iād bet he was laughing when he sold it to Mum. Grand plans, she had, Mum. Green birds, Scarlet, yellow and blue. Fill it up with a thousand birds, every shade of the rainbow, sheād gone. Threw in the toucan, why not? (LOVE THAT LINE!) A mistake, too proud for her own good, how did Mum not see it? An afternoon with Rico, the Toucan was sorted. Found her cowering, clinging, begging for dear life. (Love the clipped voice here, very dry and witty. But who is this? Surely not ā¦ Xander?! Maybe because youāre a woman, Iām assuming itās a daughter talking about her Mum? Iām gonna reread trying to see if itās Xander-y after all.)
Rewrite:
Glass roof and carved perches, Mum had grand plans for the aviary. I could still hear her now(PD2-3) (I disagree, think itās 4/5). Fill it up with a thousand birds (PD4) (I disagree, think itās 2). Green birds, scarlet, yellow and blue. One for every shade of rainbow and more(PD5) (I think 3). God, how I hate her singsong voice, the ring of it piercing, drilling deep into my bones(PD4) (I think 5). Ugh. That and her grant gestures (PD3). (I think 4, because of her strong emotions). She didnāt know when to stop, but throwing in a Toucan with Rico? (PD3-2). (I agree with 3). It was a mistake, the Toucan with her squint eye and stubborn streak(PD3). How could Mum not see it? Found her cowering, clinging, begging for dear life(PD4-5) (I think 3). An afternoon with Rico, and, she was done(PD3). (I agree!)
Upon re-reading I still don’t get Xander’s voice but maybe it’s because it’s not about him dying or being dead … I get a female voice … I hope I’m right!?
It’s a delicious scene, Chithrupa, painted ever so vividly; the tropical-bird-loving Mother – with tons of money to spend, the architect who designs horrific stuff … those poor exotic birds who have to deal with a macaw! And, of course, your Kalahari dry humour.
(I’m sorry I disagree about the PD’s!)
Anja
Hi Lucia,
You also nailed this assignment, just like the others.
I cannot say anything about your choices … They all seem very deliberate. I like how you take the time to weave in details of the soft leather she wants to rest her head against for those all-important sensory descriptions.
So I think I will join the ‘discussion’ of how to end the last sentence of the full scene.
āWhy did he never listen?ā is a perfect line and one we can all relate too.
āWas this one more thing that she was expected to do?ā on the other hand, is more original, I really liked that sentence (but then, I don’t have kids).
Suggestion: Why not use them both? She can think two things in a row, surely? And then start with the ‘Why did he never listen?’ and then the ‘Was this one more thing she was expected to do?’ line.
All in all, Lucia, this was a very strong scene and even though not much happened, there was a tremendous amount of tension-building, all because of you doing this PD exercise … It was an easy and enjoyable read.
(Honestly, on this JW editing course it says ‘one out of four gets a request from an agent’ … But in this group? Could be a lot more than one out of four.)
Anja
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