On to Write it Out Wednesday...
The assignment this week actually contains no writing for you, but does require you to ponder what constitutes "good writing".
Rachelle Gardner hosted a contest recently, and I entered both phases. It was a ton of fun! I enjoyed every minute of it. (Check out the winner's entry, btw. It's AWESOME!)
So, the assignment this week is to give me some feedback on my first page entry. I would love to know how I can improve my writing. The challenge was to use one of the five first lines provided to write the first page of a novel (300 words max). Obviously, the first page should intrigue the reader enough that they would want to read the rest of the story.
So, critque away, please! I want to learn.
Things were going along just fine until the miracle fouled up everything. The women of the city had loved Rachel and had come to her with every joy, grief, and struggle. Her husband, Simon, had been well known and respected. Nearly every man in Nazareth had, at one time, sought business or personal advice from him. Walking through the city streets had been an enjoyable social outing for both of them. They had been greeted with smiles, nods, and “Shaloms”. Friends had stopped and exchanged small talk and gossip.
But that was then. Now, they were the object of gossip. Friends looked the other way when Rachel and Simon came near. There were no more greetings. No more smiles or “Shaloms”. They were shunned, and it was all because of the miracle.
Rachel wanted to believe her daughter and future son-in-law. She wanted to believe that the child growing within Mary was truly the Son of God, but things like that just do not happen. Even the miracle of Abraham and Sarah required a moment of intimate human passion. She did not understand how Simon could embrace this “miracle” so easily.
Rachel stepped from the stone threshold of their home and onto the dusty street. She clutched the large water vessel closer to herself as if it might somehow protect her from what she was about to face. Lately, her daily trip to the well felt more like walking into a den of lions than a circle of friends.