ratsy
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2008
- Messages
- 4,643
Hello Gang!
I'm working on my book and this is one of my newest scenes. Basically what I'm calling part 1, or act 1 of the book is done, and we are moving on to Part 2.
I guess what I want to know is, can I sort of fill in the past couple days like I do without it seeming info-dumpy? I try to stay close to her for it so its not such a dump of stuff. Does it work?
Also, I am a man writing a love scene from Rose's point of view. Does this work and sound okay? I'm not getting into the steamy details at this point (and doubt I will) The one part is full of semi-colons, but I like the way the writing sounds. I would also like to know if you think those sentences should be changed to smaller ones and not colon so many in a row?
Thanks for any help you can give!
#
The next couple of days went by with out incident and Rose was thankful for the reprieve. Scott had settled in nicely, and had spent his time familiarizing himself with Sleepy Grove protocol, and the crematorium that had been gathering dust over the past few years. She was surprised to learn that he was capable of doing a thorough overhaul of the machine, and some minor repairs too. When she met him there yesterday evening she was amazed at how clean and sparkly the apparatus and room were. Scott seemed excited to be there as well, which she understood. Not many people would want to work with funerals, and cemeteries, but those that did, took great pride in their work. After years of working and living here, Rose could hardly imagine not being surrounded by the quiet, the fresh air, and the trees and grass. Oh, and the guests.
Roger had called earlier and they were making little progress on their case, but the good news was no bodies had been found since the one Rose had been standing over a few days ago. The Chief was thinking the killer may have moved on and was saying the evidence pointed to him being a drifter himself, because of the targeted victims. This didn't fit to Roger and he was adamant the killer was still around. She knew he was getting run down from the case, and they hadn't seen each other since the police-station the other day. It was an unusual feeling but she missed him. It had been a long time since she'd missed anyone, or let herself miss anyone.
She'd spent her day preparing for a weekend service for a young girl Cleo who'd hung herself the previous weekend. The girl was sixteen and beautiful, from the pictures her parents had dropped off for the service. She thought of Jack and his suicide and understood the pain of being young and troubled. There was a time when the thought crossed her mind. In the year after her parents death, she hadn't felt like there was anything holding her to the world. If it hadn't been for her predecessor Ethel, she was sure she would have shared the same fate as Jack and Cleo.
The pot on the burner bubbled over and splashed on the stove-top startling Rose out of her thoughts. Roger would be there soon and there she was fumbling over dinner. She stirred the boiling fettuccine, and got to work on her mom's famous alfredo sauce. There weren't many thing she still had of theirs but this recipe was something she held close to her heart. It was the last meal she'd eaten with her parents. Again, she felt herself being drug into the currents of depression, but instead of frantically paddling against them, she stood still, closed her eyes, and breathed. One, two, three, four... There was a knock on her door.
She made sure the pasta wasn't going to boil over again and crossed the small room. She opened it and there stood Roger; he gave her a genuine smile that set her heart fluttering. Gone were the bad memories, anxiety and depression; she felt warm all over.
“Come in Roger,” she said quietly.
He held a flower out to her; a single white rose. “This is for you.”
He looked tired, but as handsome as ever, and he gave her that look that he approved of what he saw. It had been so long since someone had looked at her that way.
She reached for it and their hands touched. In that moment her heart sped up and she tingled from head to toe. If she could just let him know how she felt about him maybe they could become something special. She opened her mouth to talk but he was already leaning in. His hand slid up to her face; slight roughness scratched her soft cheek – in a good way.
“Rose, I...”
She kissed him before he could say anything else. They'd kissed before, but just quickly - this was a whole new level. She could feel the hunger in his lips; lips that tasted like coffee and breath mints. She let loose all the feelings and emotions she'd felt since meeting him; desire and passion overtook her thoughts. His face was soft against her; his aftershave subtle but alluring.
She slid his sport coat off his broad shoulders and he looked at her with his always intense gaze. For a moment she hesitated, realizing that she hadn't done this in a long time, but when she looked into his brown eyes, it didn't matter. All the tension and loneliness; the creeping depression vanished in an instant as she took his hand and led him to her small bedroom.
I'm working on my book and this is one of my newest scenes. Basically what I'm calling part 1, or act 1 of the book is done, and we are moving on to Part 2.
I guess what I want to know is, can I sort of fill in the past couple days like I do without it seeming info-dumpy? I try to stay close to her for it so its not such a dump of stuff. Does it work?
Also, I am a man writing a love scene from Rose's point of view. Does this work and sound okay? I'm not getting into the steamy details at this point (and doubt I will) The one part is full of semi-colons, but I like the way the writing sounds. I would also like to know if you think those sentences should be changed to smaller ones and not colon so many in a row?
Thanks for any help you can give!
#
The next couple of days went by with out incident and Rose was thankful for the reprieve. Scott had settled in nicely, and had spent his time familiarizing himself with Sleepy Grove protocol, and the crematorium that had been gathering dust over the past few years. She was surprised to learn that he was capable of doing a thorough overhaul of the machine, and some minor repairs too. When she met him there yesterday evening she was amazed at how clean and sparkly the apparatus and room were. Scott seemed excited to be there as well, which she understood. Not many people would want to work with funerals, and cemeteries, but those that did, took great pride in their work. After years of working and living here, Rose could hardly imagine not being surrounded by the quiet, the fresh air, and the trees and grass. Oh, and the guests.
Roger had called earlier and they were making little progress on their case, but the good news was no bodies had been found since the one Rose had been standing over a few days ago. The Chief was thinking the killer may have moved on and was saying the evidence pointed to him being a drifter himself, because of the targeted victims. This didn't fit to Roger and he was adamant the killer was still around. She knew he was getting run down from the case, and they hadn't seen each other since the police-station the other day. It was an unusual feeling but she missed him. It had been a long time since she'd missed anyone, or let herself miss anyone.
She'd spent her day preparing for a weekend service for a young girl Cleo who'd hung herself the previous weekend. The girl was sixteen and beautiful, from the pictures her parents had dropped off for the service. She thought of Jack and his suicide and understood the pain of being young and troubled. There was a time when the thought crossed her mind. In the year after her parents death, she hadn't felt like there was anything holding her to the world. If it hadn't been for her predecessor Ethel, she was sure she would have shared the same fate as Jack and Cleo.
The pot on the burner bubbled over and splashed on the stove-top startling Rose out of her thoughts. Roger would be there soon and there she was fumbling over dinner. She stirred the boiling fettuccine, and got to work on her mom's famous alfredo sauce. There weren't many thing she still had of theirs but this recipe was something she held close to her heart. It was the last meal she'd eaten with her parents. Again, she felt herself being drug into the currents of depression, but instead of frantically paddling against them, she stood still, closed her eyes, and breathed. One, two, three, four... There was a knock on her door.
She made sure the pasta wasn't going to boil over again and crossed the small room. She opened it and there stood Roger; he gave her a genuine smile that set her heart fluttering. Gone were the bad memories, anxiety and depression; she felt warm all over.
“Come in Roger,” she said quietly.
He held a flower out to her; a single white rose. “This is for you.”
He looked tired, but as handsome as ever, and he gave her that look that he approved of what he saw. It had been so long since someone had looked at her that way.
She reached for it and their hands touched. In that moment her heart sped up and she tingled from head to toe. If she could just let him know how she felt about him maybe they could become something special. She opened her mouth to talk but he was already leaning in. His hand slid up to her face; slight roughness scratched her soft cheek – in a good way.
“Rose, I...”
She kissed him before he could say anything else. They'd kissed before, but just quickly - this was a whole new level. She could feel the hunger in his lips; lips that tasted like coffee and breath mints. She let loose all the feelings and emotions she'd felt since meeting him; desire and passion overtook her thoughts. His face was soft against her; his aftershave subtle but alluring.
She slid his sport coat off his broad shoulders and he looked at her with his always intense gaze. For a moment she hesitated, realizing that she hadn't done this in a long time, but when she looked into his brown eyes, it didn't matter. All the tension and loneliness; the creeping depression vanished in an instant as she took his hand and led him to her small bedroom.