Not to the Manor Born scene

Eric was the only boy in the family who showed no interest in farming. He did not want to insult the others, but it was plain that he thought it beneath him. He did not like muck or manure, threshing in the heat of summer or fixing machinery in the freezing winter. He didn’t like mending fences, or digging wells, or pitching hay. There was nothing about the farm that he liked.

Instead, he had gone off to college and majored in business, not farm business either. He moved to the city, and got a job as a C.P.A. in a large accounting firm. He drove a B.M.W., not a pickup, and wore finely tailored suits, not blue jeans. He was engaged to a wealthy girl, an honest-to-goodness blueblood from Detroit, and she was as impressed with him as he was with her.

They had gone to Rachel’s parents’ “summer cottage” in Harbor Springs, a modest 6,000 sq ft. bungalow, just blocks from the Edsel Ford home. Eric took to the luxury as if he’d been born to it. He gloried in the warm glow of the antique cherry wood bed and dresser in his room, the fireplace with its Delft china tiles. He relished the rich patina of the well polished sterling which was used at every meal, not saved for special occasions. Yes, he settled in as one accustomed to these finer things of life. No one noticed that he watched carefully to see which fork to use.
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The wind was up that morning, and Rachel mentioned that it would be a good day for a sail. The boat, the Louisa May, named for her ancestor, was not a new one. Nothing around the Alcott home seemed new, or old either. Everything was timeless.

Eric’s experience with sailing was very limited, a few attempts at camp when he was a boy, nothing more. For the first time, he felt a stab of discomfort with his abilities, but he wasn’t willing to mention it, or any other deficit. Rachel had sailed all her life, and one of the servants was enlisted as a deck hand. Since she knew the boat, it was natural that she was in charge. When they were out of the channel and onto the lake, Eric relaxed.

They sailed along the shoreline, Rachel pointing out the homes and identifying the people who owned them, names Eric had seen in “Town & Country” and the social columns of the Detroit Free Press. The day was warming up, and Rachel called the deckhand to drop the anchor. They would sit here in the sun, have a little lunch, maybe a swim.

Eric casually excused himself to offer to help. He wanted to see how it was done. Every bit of information about Rachel’s life would come in handy some day, especially things he would be expected to know how to do.

As the deckhand began to winch down the anchor, Eric saw something stuck in the rope. It was a brightly colored lure that had hooked itself into the hemp, and he reached to unhook it. Suddenly, without warning, his finger was caught in the mechanism, hooked by the barb and twisted beneath a length of rope. He yelled at the deckhand to hold, but it was too late. He stared with disbelieving eyes. Blood gushed from the stump of the third finger of his left hand. This couldn’t be happening to him. This happened to farmers.

Rachel heard the yell and ran to him. Her eyes widened, and she ripped the scarf from around her neck to wrap his hand in. There was no easy way to do it, and she panicked. All she could think of was, That’s his ring finger.


NavWorks Review"
You did a good job with THE SCENE. I liked your background setup and the awkward position engendered by Eric's pride or inability to be truthful about his lack of experience.

The scene seemed to focus more on Eric than anyone else. I was looking for a little more interaction between or among the characters. Nonetheless, it was still engaging.

This story would have been spectacular if you did a little more showing and less telling. You pretty much tell us or explain to us what happens instead of showing us the characters actually living the event before our mental eyes.

Later in the class we will cover this awesome techinique of showing in more detail.

Also, a few bits of dialogue would make this come to life.

Here's an example of reworking this to do more showing. Here is what you wrote:

Eric’s experience with sailing was very limited, a few attempts at camp when he was a boy, nothing more. For the first time, he felt a stab of discomfort with his abilities, but he wasn’t willing to mention it, or any other deficit. Rachel had sailed all her life, and one of the servants was enlisted as a deck hand. Since she knew the boat, it was natural that she was in charge. When they were out of the channel and onto the lake, Eric relaxed.

First of all, I thought it was brilliant that you used the word deficit especially with Eric's background. It spoke volumes about Eric.

Okay, here is the above paragrah with some showing added:

The sloshy sound of the waves slapping the boat helped Eric settle down. He knew little about sailing. As a boy at camp he dabbled with a two seater a few times, but that was nothing. If only he could recall those terms, boom, tiller, jig or jib, or something. Discomfort stabbed his heart, but he hid it with a smile, tipping his head to Rachel. She had sailed her entire life.

"Gorgeous day," she said waving her arm toward the sky as if she were showcasing the world itself.

"Yes, it is, honey." Eric shifted, adjusting his cap. He just couldn't mention his inexperience to Rachel, nor any other deficit. God forbid she should think him incapable, think of him like some backward country boy.

She barked some orders to her deckhand, one of the servants from home. Thank God she was in charge. It made perfect sense. She knew the boat. Now all he had to do was kick back, escape detection, and he might just enjoy himself. With a deep sigh he relaxed and leaned on one foot as they raced out of the channel onto the open lake.

Do you see how the interspersed action and dialogue keeps the story moving while we learn the same information you gave, but now it is in a more interactive, participative way. It's almost as if we are in his shoes with him experiencing the discomfort of the situation.

Also, avoid using modifiers (adverbs and/or adjectives) to prop up the text. Instead, powerful nouns and verbs can carry the day with more precise and direct action. We'll get to these techniques in a future session, but here's an example.

You wrote:

As the deckhand began to winch down the anchor, Eric saw something stuck in the rope. It was a brightly colored lure that had hooked itself into the hemp, and he reached to unhook it. Suddenly, without warning, his finger was caught in the mechanism, hooked by the barb and twisted beneath a length of rope. He yelled at the deckhand to hold, but it was too late. He stared with disbelieving eyes. Blood gushed from the stump of the third finger of his left hand. This couldn’t be happening to him. This happened to farmers.

Instead, put us there with them in the action.

The deckhand grabbed the crank handle and swept his arm in wide circles to winch down the anchor. Eric stared at the moving rope, watching it become a blur. A brightly colored lure caught his attention. It was hooked into the hemp. As he reached out to free it, the barb bit into his finger, grabbing it, yanking it into the mechanism, and twisting it under a length of rope.

"Stop the wench," he yelled, pulling at his hand as if he had the strength to reverse the rope, "stop!"

The searing agony ceased as he pulled his left hand free. The force threw him backward. Blood splattered on his face, his blood, as he thrust his gushing hand before his eyes. No, it couldn't be. This didn't just happen. Why? How?

Where his third finger had been there was only a stump of red, torn flesh. This was not the life of a CPA. Gentlemen didn't lose fingers. Farmers did.

Using more vivid imagery by showing and not telling, and using power verbs, like thrust, yanked, grabbed, and throwing, will make the narrative come to life. It is all about action and all about putting the reader into the character's head to experience his emotions, agony, and shock rather than to tell the reader he was in agony or shock.

I hope this gives you enough to go on to see what I mean by the techniques employed, until we get to these lessons later in the class.

Thanks for writing this. Great imagination. I loved seeing where you took this one.