Opening for new story

[Yozh]

This is the opening to a short story that I am thinking of expanding to novella length; it's a modern fairy tale focused on two sisters.

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Joyce briskly swept out the corners of the empty room after the auction house had carted everything away. Broom-clean it had to be. A sunbeam struck the dust and something sparkled. She dragged her fingertips through the sweepings, catching shiny rectangles of purple and pink. Glitter. Her hand trembled.

This had been Shannon’s room, before Mom forbid anyone from entering and slowly filled the space with items unwanted and better unpurchased. Now that it was cleared of decades of detritus, Shannon’s sparkles showed themselves again.

“Glitter Fairy” her boyfriend Brad had called her, laughing as she blew clouds of the stuff at him. Dad said he was a fine one to be calling anyone fairy.

Shannon owned the moniker, surrounding herself with sparkles. Glittery red vinyl sneakers and chain wallet. Glitter paint-pen graffiti on her school folders. Glitter in her hair. Glitter powder on her cheeks and glitter gloss on her lips. Even a glittery pair of fairy wings Brad bought her as a gag.

Joyce used to sneak into Shannon’s room to swipe a dab of the glitter gloss. Shannon didn’t mind, but Mom did.

“Don’t get your sister started on that stuff!” she scolded Shannon, “She’s still a kid.”

“Chill, mom,” Shannon said with an eye-roll, “It’s just glitter.”

When mom worked second shift, Shannon would let Joyce stay up late stay up late and try on the glitter wings and dance with her to pulsing music that had no words.

Shannon was always dancing. Throughout the day it was little movements to music only she could hear. Mom called it “twitching” but Joyce could see the rhythm. At midnight when Mom got home, Shannon would go with Brad and his friends—skinny, smiling people who never slept—and they would dance until morning. Joyce longed to go with her, but Shannon said “You’re too young, bug. Besides, Mom would kill me.”

But one night in June, the year of all the cicadas, as Shannon was getting all glittered up to go out Mom called saying she had to cover a double shift and wouldn’t be home until breakfast. After promising to put Joyce to bed, Shannon danced nervously back and forth like she could not make up her mind.

“It’s Midsummer, Joyce, I can’t miss this. You’ll be OK here, right? And don’t tell Mom I went out?”

“I don’t want to stay by myself. What if the goblins takes me? Like in "Labyrinth"?” Joyce said, not because she believed it, but because maybe if she acted scared her sister would not leave her.

“Well, I guess you can come if you stay out of sight,” Shannon said. She gave her a ring pop and told her to stay under the blankets in the backseat and sleep.

 

[Swank]

Seems pretty good. Don't like "briskly swept" - would prefer something like "stabbed the broom into corners" to an adverb.

Why "broom-clean" and not vacuumed? Why does her hand tremble? Did the auction house take everything in the home, or just in the room?

 

[TheAfter]

This is the opening to a short story that I am thinking of expanding to novella length; it's a modern fairy tale focused on two sisters.

-------------------------------


Joyce briskly swept out the corners of the empty room after the auction house had carted everything away. Broom-clean it had to be. A sunbeam struck the dust and something sparkled. She dragged her fingertips through the sweepings, catching shiny rectangles of purple and pink. Glitter. Her hand trembled.

This had been Shannon’s room, before Mom forbid anyone from entering and slowly filled the space with items unwanted and better unpurchased. Now that it was cleared of decades of detritus, Shannon’s sparkles showed themselves again.

“Glitter Fairy” her boyfriend Brad had called her, laughing as she blew clouds of the stuff at him. Dad said he was a fine one to be calling anyone fairy.

Shannon owned the moniker, surrounding herself with sparkles. Glittery red vinyl sneakers and chain wallet. Glitter paint-pen graffiti on her school folders. Glitter in her hair. Glitter powder on her cheeks and glitter gloss on her lips. Even a glittery pair of fairy wings Brad bought her as a gag.

Joyce used to sneak into Shannon’s room to swipe a dab of the glitter gloss. Shannon didn’t mind, but Mom did.

“Don’t get your sister started on that stuff!” she scolded Shannon, “She’s still a kid.”

“Chill, mom,” Shannon said with an eye-roll, “It’s just glitter.”

When mom worked second shift, Shannon would let Joyce stay up late stay up late and try on the glitter wings and dance with her to pulsing music that had no words.

Shannon was always dancing. Throughout the day it was little movements to music only she could hear. Mom called it “twitching” but Joyce could see the rhythm. At midnight when Mom got home, Shannon would go with Brad and his friends—skinny, smiling people who never slept—and they would dance until morning. Joyce longed to go with her, but Shannon said “You’re too young, bug. Besides, Mom would kill me.”

But one night in June, the year of all the cicadas, as Shannon was getting all glittered up to go out Mom called saying she had to cover a double shift and wouldn’t be home until breakfast. After promising to put Joyce to bed, Shannon danced nervously back and forth like she could not make up her mind.

“It’s Midsummer, Joyce, I can’t miss this. You’ll be OK here, right? And don’t tell Mom I went out?”

“I don’t want to stay by myself. What if the goblins takes me? Like in "Labyrinth"?” Joyce said, not because she believed it, but because maybe if she acted scared her sister would not leave her.

“Well, I guess you can come if you stay out of sight,” Shannon said. She gave her a ring pop and told her to stay under the blankets in the backseat and sleep.

Avoid adverbs whenever possible.

"She dragged her fingertips through the sweepings," Consider: Her fingertips filtered through the gritty sweepings,

"Now that it was cleared of decades of detritus," Consider: Cleared of decades of detritus, Shannon's sparkles caught the sparse light.

"Shannon owned the moniker, surrounding herself with sparkles. Glittery red vinyl sneakers and chain wallet. Glitter paint-pen graffiti on her school folders. Glitter in her hair. Glitter powder on her cheeks and glitter gloss on her lips. Even a glittery pair of fairy wings Brad bought her as a gag." Consider showing this instead of telling. Example: Shannon wore the nickname like armor, wrapping herself in sparkles wherever she went. Her red vinyl sneakers shimmered with every step, glitter catching the light as the chunky chain wallet jingled at her side. Her school folders, covered in graffiti scribbles from a glitter paint-pen, flashed with colors, while flecks of glitter dusted her hair like scattered stars. Her cheeks sparkled with a dusting of glitter powder, and her lips shone under layers of glittery gloss. Even the fairy wings, a gag gift from Brad, shimmered with tiny flecks as she wore them with a grin, like a badge of honor.

When you write, think in terms of the five senses to immerse your reader in the scene. What smells permeate the air? What sounds can be heard in the background? Also think in terms of specificity. What flavor was the ring pop?

Thank you for sharing and I hope I offered something that can be helpful.

 

[ColGray]

I like it. The opening packs a lot of information into a few words and gives a great sense of family dynamic, socioeconomics, the original to current state and that we join the story at a moment of change.

slowly filled the space with items unwanted and better unpurchased.

I like that line a lot. It gives the sense of the mother burying her feelings under objects that serve no other purpose (purchased to be shoved in a room no one enters) and it's a beautiful character detail.

One thought is using the found glitter as a flashback frame -- intro with her sweeping, remembering what used to be here and then stooping to sweet dirt into a dustpan and touching glitter, then queue flashback.

Other quick things might be highlighting the age gap -- Shannon was 4 years and a world older, etc -- to then highlight the passage of time--catching sight of hs/college classmates with glitter eyeliner left her feeling X. Some sense of the room--large, small, the good southern exposure window, the scratched floorboards, etc.--would also be good to ground the opening scene

And one question: auction house. Not sure if it is an intentional lack of definition, but i bumped on this. She's sweeping so they can move out of (or, i assume so from "broom clean" as that's a term of art in most P&S and lease agreements) and the family feels middle class/lower middle class from working shifts and overnight shifts (though it could be as a nurse/dr?). Auction makes me think of selling fine art and watches and antiques. Repossessions is a really different feel-- unpaid debts mean they come and take it. Pawn shop is maybe somewhere in between? Estate sale feels more... the parents died and Joyce is moving out and wanted to get rid of everything without the hassle? Sorry if that's nit-picky.

I like it as an opening and as a jumping off point.

 

[Yozh]

Thank you all for your feedback on this. This was originally written with a strict word limit, but since it wasn't chosen I'm freed from that and can use just a few more words to paint a better picture of what's going on and improve descriptions. As @ColGray picked up, I was leaning on "broom clean" as a term of art to indicate that MC is getting the house ready to turn over the keys, but that seems to be a culturally/generationally limited expression. The premise is that middle-aged MC is clearing out her childhood home after the death of her mother, and is inspired to renew the search for her sister who disappeared some twenty five years ago.

 

[Swank]

Thank you all for your feedback on this. This was originally written with a strict word limit, but since it wasn't chosen I'm freed from that and can use just a few more words to paint a better picture of what's going on and improve descriptions. As @ColGray picked up, I was leaning on "broom clean" as a term of art to indicate that MC is getting the house ready to turn over the keys, but that seems to be a culturally/generationally limited expression. The premise is that middle-aged MC is clearing out her childhood home after the death of her mother, and is inspired to renew the search for her sister who disappeared some twenty five years ago.

I'm not young, but am culturally handicapped by being American. I assumed British terminology would have been "broome clean".