Again, Angie, you have done a great job developing a story from almost nothing. You asked me how I or other writers develop things and how we get the ideas for our stories. They come from experience, remembered books, and chance research topics. The more you read and write, the deeper your pencil box gets, and the more tidbits are saved in the back of your mind. They pop out when you least expect them. Below is an edit by paragraph. (too early for line-by-line) your original wording is in blue. My notes are in black, and a few suggestions are in green. Please take your muse by the hand and put her in front of these notes. Make her read them several times, and you sit with your eyes closed and watch her play out the story. Then, write and edit what you saw her say and do.
Okay, here goes... remember I am not telling you what to do! I am attempting to wake your muse. She will do the work if you trust her.
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Emily sighed, staring mournfully out her upstairs window at the dreary November afternoon, with nary a leaf left on the bare, shivering trees. Sitting at her desk with a quill pen and journal, she counted sorrows.
Emily sighed is very cliche. Better to show!!!! This is your protagonist…never tell the reader what she sees, feels, or thinks…always Show her!!! To the reader. You can "Tell" us about everything else.
The feathered tip of her quill bent as her breath slipped passed thin lips, and her gaze focused on the bare silver-gray fingers of the old maple outside the window. Oh, November, could you not leave a spit of color for me to use? But No, nary anything beyond your gray.
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"This town is too small. I don't have any friends. I miss my parents. This house is too big and empty. It's been snowing for three days. I haven't gone outside in weeks. The days are much too brief and frigid now." Her quill scratched across the paper as she spilled out her frustrations. "I might as well be a prisoner in some miserable Norwegian wasteland."
Good ideas for scene setting, using dialogue, works well. It is one of those items in our pencil box I spoke of. I would think Emily's lost parents were more important than the town's size. It should come first; you could be more direct and clipped in her words. Emily is talking to herself… she knows what she means, and the reader will understand.
"Mama, I miss you and Daddy. Oh, damnation, see yet more snow. Why are three days not enough?" A snapping pop from an ember in the fireplace drew her attention."A Giant, empty house and not a soul to share it with. No wonder my muse fades uncooperative like a prisoner's hope in this Norwegian Wasteland.
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At this point, she paused, too exhausted to continue. In the heavy stillness, a dog started barking persistently, getting closer and louder until it seemed to Emily that it must have come right in her garden gate to her doorstep.
You need a comma after point if you don't change anything. Here is more narrative filtering: your exposition gets between the reader and Emily. Why is Emily exhausted? Do you mean physically or mentally? This is an important point in the story. Spunky is the catalyst for change. The dog's entry moves the story to its next step. Now, try to show the reader without getting in the way. Slip into Emily's body, close your eyes, and picture yourself sitting, staring out the window. You are depressed, lonely, and suffering from a melange. Oh, the dog can use dialogue, too. Puppy talk Yap, yap, yap. These Onomatopoeia. Words that sound like the sound it describes, e.g. bang, boom, pow, yap, and yip, to share a few.
"Yap, yap, Ruffa yip.." Emily's head tilted sideways, and her chin rose from her chest. She strained forward to see out the window in the direction of the hurried barking from her front stoop.
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"Now that's just what I need," she grumbled as she went downstairs. Opening the front door, she was met by a medium-sized shaggy brown terrier, who was overjoyed to see her. Emily knelt down to read its name tag: Spunky.
The beginning of this is good. It shows frustration, but is that what you really need or want? What if Emily were more surprised than frustrated? Would it be easier for a reader to empathize with Emily as grumpy or depressed? You don't need to tell the reader she opened the door. In my suggestion samples, I expressly say Emily is looking out to the front of her house. It is easily implied to the reader that Emily will find the dog out front. It is a very quick and simple jump for the reader. Filling in too many blanks makes the reading boring. It would help if you looked for places to imply, infer, and allow speculation by the reader.
"That's what I need, another distraction." Downstairs on the porch, the shaggy brown terrier jumped and twirled, continuing his barks. Stooping over, Emily caught his collar and tag. "Spunky, is it? What is all this noise about?"
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"Quiet, Spunky, for goodness sake." She cautiously held out her hand, remembering the proper way to introduce oneself to a dog. Spunky sniffed it briefly and kept barking, making short dashes off the porch, a few steps down the path and up to her again with a sense of urgency.
I only had a few little items, and telling the reader how to make friends with a dog is unnecessary.
"Quiet, Spunky, for goodness sake." She cautiously held out her hand. Spunky sniffed it briefly and kept barking, making short dashes off the porch, a few steps down the path, and up to her again with a sense of urgency.
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"Now what…?" Emily was puzzled. Spunky impatiently sank his teeth into her furry robes and tugged. She put on her snow boots and followed him reluctantly outside into the cold.
Filler doesn't move the story forward or provide any needed information. It would help if you cut the whole paragraph. It is cliche, a very over done troupe.
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She glanced at her barren yard and couldn't help noticing how the late afternoon sun shimmered through the icy branches, casting lacy shadows across the snow. A tall, slim holly laden with berries provided a welcome dash of red and green, and was that a cardinal flitting by? Perhaps the snow season wasn't as lifeless as it seemed.
Don't need anything in this scene, setting a mistake in the middle of the action… Interrupting Spunk's heroic emergency imitation of Lasie is like telling your readers about your fifth birthday party while you are in the middle of a car crash. Cut it all
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Spunky led her down the sidewalk towards a small figure lying in the snow. Emily gasped as she saw the boy's pale, frightened face. He explained how he'd injured himself on the ice while walking Spunky and had sent the dog to get help. She helped him stand up and shuffled him back to her house, where she settled them into a chair by the fireplace and prepared hot cocoa.
We already talked about filtering. So, here goes lots of unnecessary darlings… Since little joey is not seriously injured, he would not be on Emily's porch the next day. How about a twisted ankle, which can be alluded to in the next paragraph?
Well, it's obvious you want me. show me." Emily watched the dog scamper left at the corner to a lump of plaid and corduroy. When the boy's arm moved, she rushed to him.
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Twenty four hours later, Emily found herself sitting on her front porch with little Joey, his parents, and Spunky, watching a rare and stunning aurora borealis as it sent swirling curtains of glowing green and lavender across the night sky. She could almost feel the mysterious positive energy it transmitted.
Why would Emily be surprised to be on her front porch, and how big is this porch? I felt the turn of the century Norwegian village from the scene settings. This means only steps on the front of the homes of the period. You would be better set on a side porch, a glassed-in conservatory. What if Emily was really Amalie Skram, a German-born woman who married Erik Skram, a Norwegian businessman. Amalie was a Pulitzer Prize-winning author and publisher from the late eighteen-hundreds. "Madam Høiers leiefolk." It was her first published story about a poor family migrating to Norway.
Emily set the silver tray on the wicker table in front of the settee. "So tell me, Joey, how is your ankle today?" she said in her native tongue.
"Much better today, Miss."
As Emily filled the tea cups, small steam trails swirled toward the glass ceilings. She passed a cup and saucer to Joey's mother.
"Mrs. Skram, I can't thank you enough for finding and helping my son. I am in your debt." Said the boy's mother
"Nonsense, I am glad Spunky chose my door to call on. It is nice to find a German family so near. I miss speaking my mother's tongue." Emily's fingers pointed to the northern glass wall. "Oh, look, Joey… see that mystic green glow on the horizon? It is the Aurora Borealis. I think they call them "Nordlys" in Norwegian. Tonight is supposed to be one of the best viewings of the season." They all watched as the night sky took on a bath of effervescent emerald.
Emily picked up her pencil and faced Joey's mother. "Now, Madam Høiers leiefolk, tell me more about your journey, and please do not leave out any of the pains you endured."
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"Life's not quite as bad as all that," she thought. "I'm so excited to meet this family." She remembered her list of sorrows, sitting unread upstairs, and smiled as she realized it should rather become a list of her many blessings. "Perhaps the local resemblance to Norway isn't such a miserable thing after all."
Delete this telling paragraph if you use something more like the above.
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