The Gaslight Journal

Dear Carla, it was as captivating from the beginning, as I hope it is at the end when I beg you to send me your book, truly. I admit that I am a fan of historical, but not normally romance. But the way that you wrote reminded me of Catherine Cookson, [ I use to read them to my Mother ], but you have a natural habit to hold a reader with the use of your magnetism that makes it almost impossible not to be there. I also thought, that your emotional blend was beautifully written. There are past paramours everywhere, who could feel the commitment in your story. Poignant yet purposeful and even more personal, in places. Good luck and best wishes, with your wonderful book. I believe it should be noticed. Take care, Cicuta [ Carl, Arcane ].

The Gaslight Journal is well done through chapter one, which is all I've read so far. Long pitch is good and I like the story line presented although I think the pitch might be improved by cutting the last sentence. I'll return with comments after reading more if I find anything I think might be helpful to mention. [I do tend to agree with Pollux to a certain extent on the period language use in narrative of what I've read, although I will reserve judgement until I've read more - It seems to be growing on me as I go along. Also, I find the green fonts less than desirable.] I think Gaslight Journal deserves recognition here and am putting it on my shelf now.

[I would like to see your thoughts on Einstein's Road Trip, - mystical realism in an offbeat lit. fiction - when your time allows. Thanks.] G

Dear Carla
Yours is the book I keep coming back to. I just read chapter two and I want you to be encouraged. You have great talent. I don't understand the ranking at this site. Yours should be on the editor's desk. Here's why: you know how to write. You know your characters, you know how to use multiple pov's, your descriptions and your beats are spot-on, and you have micro-tension. Well done!
You've been on my bookshelf for a while. I love this story and will come back to read more soon.
Best,
Michelle (WILLOW)

Dear Carla
Wow, I love your story! I only read chapter one, but I pride myself on knowing right away if a book has what it takes to make it--and yours does. It's the kind of book I could curl up with on a cold day and not put down. You are very talented. I've only been at authonomy for several days and am just finding my way around. I'm in awe of your writing ability--it's so romantic.

"But as she stood staring at the windows, they wore nothing but darkness." This was one of my favorite lines. Your use of the senses surround the story--I could smell, feel, hear and touch the story world.

There was only one sentence that I had to go back and read and reread. I think it's one of the most important ones in the chapter because the micro-tension is centered around it. It was in reference to the gardening club. "We belonged to the club for the longest time." The WE here didn't register. Could she say instead, "Your mother and I belonged to the club for the longest...."? That way the reader knows she's talking about her mother. I thought the peacock lady was referring to herself and her family...maybe spouse, etc. It's only two words, but I think it would make a difference.

I will back this story and I gave it 5 stars. I think it should get 6, but I need to read the rest first...and I hope to soon.

Best,
Michelle (WILLOW)
PS If you read WILLOW please know that it's not as sophisticated as yours. It's for young teen girls.

Hi there - I saw your call on the historical fiction thread - can't remember the exact name. Anyway, it prompted me to give your book a read. I have a number of suggestions but some people may take them personally and I will only give them if you are up for some totally honest comments which will be given purely to help you.
Lorraine
Mannin Boy

Dear Carla,

Firstly, I love your writing. 5 stars given already, and I will back it in the next few days when I have read some more of it.

And I was also very interested to read the comments that people have made on your work. It seems that other historical fiction writers just 'get it' immediately, whereas you seem to also be attracting a lot of unnecessary criticism for using long sentences and arcane words. I have also received these kind of comments on my book too and I can't believe that people genuinely think that we have not adopted this style deliberately! I myself have written another novel (not on authonomy) in a short, sharp, punchy style. But for the current one I made the decision to use a slower pace, lots of long and complicated words, and convoluted descriptions - as this was the style of book I wanted to create. Since when does every book need to read like an airport thriller?!

Anyway I just wanted to say that I know how annoyed these comments must make you but you should stick to your (snowy) path and be proud of your elegant and well-constructed prose.

Best wishes,

Tony

Great writing, I love your novel, I only got to chapter 2 and I can't wait to finish it!

Best of luck with everything, I'm sure you'll shoot through the ratings =D

I was drawn in immediately. This is exactly the kindo of book that I read for pleasure and Izzy is a character that has a lot of meat to her. In fact your characterization is very strong. You also do a good job of using the language of the time as the characters interact.

I actually agree with much fo the feedback that EMDelaney left about language. It is one thing to want to use the language of the time which could be a bit awkward by today's standards. It's something totally different to make your reader work this hard to understand what's being said. I had to go back and read several sentences over again to make sure I understood them. I appreciate that you're trying to emulate Austen and the Brontes but I've never had to do that with their work.

Hi Meredith,

I'm sorry you had trouble. I wasn't trying to "emulate" any other writer, actually, although people are beginning to compare it to Austen. What I meant by being a throwback was not direct emulation as much as a striving for that authentic style that WOULD put off a reader today.

I see I'm going to have to offer a disclaimer in my profile before anyone reads it, however, because my vision for this book has ALWAYS been to ride a fence between the very authentic nature of the language and the way authors used to write that for prose, and in appealing to today's reader. Everyone is telling me to update the sentence length and use modern words--that has never been my vision for this, which is why it's taken me since 2001 when I first began writing this to get it finished, finally. It's gone through so many incarnations just to get it to the point where I'm finally happy with it.

Part of anyone offering a constructive critique is first in knowing what it was that served as the author's vision for the book, and if they accomplished that. However, instead of people accepting MY vision, what I'm getting is everyone telling me to change what I've already stated has been my endemic vision in favour of something that more closely resembles THEIR vision for good narrative. It's a fine line and a thin fence that I've been straddling for 11-years.

The first paragraph is a good example. Here is a way to break it up that doesn't change the language much but makes it easier for the reader to understand.

Without being attentive to where she was walking, Isabella Audley collided with something solid. She soon found herself lying in the snow with the wind properly knocked out of her and wholly unaware of what had blocked her path.

Thanks for the suggestion, but longer sentence lengths are also part of what I intentionally want for this piece. There's absolutely nothing wrong with serpentine sentences--they are very real and very viable. It's not like I went off on some unrelated tangents. I kept focus all throughout the sentence you've used as the example.

I love the language that you use and you use the correct words (something a lot of people in this genre miss). However, sometimes you sacrifice the flow of your prose to your desire to sound "of the time".

Yes, I do. Again, it's been my vision since I began this journey back in 2001.

[quote]This can put readers off.

Exactly the fine line I've found myself walking. Many are put off by Austen as well. I'm simply not going to appeal to everyone and to try would be lunacy.

I suggest you read Chapter 5 of William Strunk and E. B. White's Elements of Style. Strunk grew up in the Victorian Era and they offer wonderful guidance for writers.

They also are no longer the standard for such. The Chicago Manual of Style has been "the" standard for such reference for quite a few years now, as S&W is considered to be outdated.

I would also suggest reading this outloud or having a friend read it outloud. It's a great way to test the flow of the language.

I ALWAYS, ALWAYS read my work out loud and it's the first thing I suggest to other writers. This is something that as an instructor of dialects and diction, I have instinctively done and deem necessary for my prose. ALWAYS. I'm sorry, but this one offends me a little, because you're suggesting that I could benefit from an exercise that I have been using faithfully for over 5 years.

I would like to read more because I like the characters and story. I hope you don't take offense at my feedback. Just trying to be constructive.
Meredith

I don't usually defend my choices here (unless it's to clarify to a reader that my choices for sentence structure, narrative, and dialogue are intentional), but it now seems I'm having to repeat myself, and your comment about reading everything out loud struck an unexpected nerve.

I do appreciate your taking the time to read and offer comment.

I was drawn in immediately. This is exactly the kindo of book that I read for pleasure and Izzy is a character that has a lot of meat to her. In fact your characterization is very strong. You also do a good job of using the language of the time as the characters interact.

I actually agree with much fo the feedback that EMDelaney left about language. It is one thing to want to use the language of the time which could be a bit awkward by today's standards. It's something totally different to make your reader work this hard to understand what's being said. I had to go back and read several sentences over again to make sure I understood them. I appreciate that you're trying to emulate Austen and the Brontes but I've never had to do that with their work.

The first paragraph is a good example. Here is a way to break it up that doesn't change the language much but makes it easier for the reader to understand.

Without being attentive to where she was walking, Isabella Audley collided with something solid. She soon found herself lying in the snow with the wind properly knocked out of her and wholly unaware of what had blocked her path.

I love the language that you use and you use the correct words (something a lot of people in this genre miss). However, sometimes you sacrifice the flow of your prose to your desire to sound "of the time". This can put readers off. I suggest you read Chapter 5 of William Strunk and E. B. White's Elements of Style. Strunk grew up in the Victorian Era and they offer wonderful guidance for writers. I would also suggest reading this outloud or having a friend read it outloud. It's a great way to test the flow of the language.

I would like to read more because I like the characters and story. I hope you don't take offense at my feedback. Just trying to be constructive.
Meredith

The Gaslight Journal proved to be interesting reading. I am not particularly keen on period novels but there is certainly a lively and engaging quality here. An understanding of the era coupled with a modern-day approach is a winning formula. One wonders how far in you are? Because obviously there is editing to be done - in particular the long descriptives e.g. the opening of chap 4 - fantastic if writing for an architectural journal! There are other tendencies towards this too-much-in-one-go stuff. But have to say you capture the period brilliantly.

I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it, but thanks for the read.

The Gaslight Journal proved to be interesting reading. I am not particularly keen on period novels but there is certainly a lively and engaging quality here. An understanding of the era coupled with a modern-day approach is a winning formula. One wonders how far in you are? Because obviously there is editing to be done - in particular the long descriptives e.g. the opening of chap 4 - fantastic if writing for an architectural journal! There are other tendencies towards this too-much-in-one-go stuff. But have to say you capture the period brilliantly.

I read this awhile back and like all good historical fiction, it entertained me to the point, I was reluctant to stop.
It positively glows with 'period' and the considerable research is obvious.
The characters are well crafted and thanks to your sense of atmosphere, they carry the story well. I didn't stumble over anything as I read, but then again I was too interested in the writing.
Anything you have altered certainly doesn't detract and I'm happy to sprinkle stardust and put on my shelf in a couple of days. Margaret.

Thank-you for looking at this a second time, and I'll be sending you that invoice reminder in a couple of days. ;) :d

I read this awhile back and like all good historical fiction, it entertained me to the point, I was reluctant to stop.
It positively glows with 'period' and the considerable research is obvious.
The characters are well crafted and thanks to your sense of atmosphere, they carry the story well. I didn't stumble over anything as I read, but then again I was too interested in the writing.
Anything you have altered certainly doesn't detract and I'm happy to sprinkle stardust and put on my shelf in a couple of days. Margaret.

You come across as witty on the forums so I thought I'd give your first chapter a read. Even though this isn't my genre, far from it, I know what is a well-written piece of work, and your writing in this chapter is almost immaculate. The first sentence was a little awkward, but not bad. Everything else was perfect. What you have done best in this chapter is setting the time period. From the language Izzy uses in her dialogue, her narrative voice to the settings, you have transported the reader back in time.

Words: I find sometimes writers cannot do historical fiction because they do not use appropriate words to fit the era, but you have obviously sorted this out. An example that instantly comes to mind is "comely." I had to smile at this word because I would never have thought to use it (which is why I haven't written historical fiction). It wasn't just this one word, but you had a phlethora of them to set the tone.

Settings: Now this is where you excelled. The lighting, the houses, in particular the description of Izzy's was perfectly done. I'm not exaggerating either, as so many people do on here. If I do not think a story is good I don't bother to waffle on like this. By the way, I don't know what a Queen Anne is, but assumed by the context and surrounding words you used that it was a style of house. Hopefully, I'm correct because, as I don't like being wrong :)

Characters: They were good. Izzy comes across as a prudish young woman, which seems to fit her standing. She's also feisty, not allowing the men to get the better of her. The "comely" fella did apologise so she won that victory. Now, back to him. He sounds very interesting, his attractiveness and familiarity to Izzy allows me to think he plays an important role in the story. Just wait a mo, I'll go check your synopsis as I forgot to read it....thought so, he's the romantic interest. Cool.

I liked the addition of Izzy's thoughts about her mother, and the conversation with the Peacock blue lady with the flaming hair (your descriptions are very good--distinctive). Obviously, her mother is hiding her money problems from her daughter. In regards to the peacock lady, I liked the rump description. A nice bit of humor added in there.

Now, for a second there, as Izzy walked home, I thought she was going to be mugged or attacked in some way. Her nervousness was the reason I thought this, plus, she was snide to those guys. Because of this you did add some nice tension.

Text: I didn't spot any typos. The sentence and paragraph structure overall flowed nicely.

Sorry, that I don't have anything constructive to say. All the best - Marita.

Marita, I'm always so overwhelmed and truly thankful when anyone takes the time to read a genre in which they're not exactly familiar or comfortable, so I appreciate you doing that, and I thank you for your observations. Based on your comments in the forums, you have never struck me as someone who would lavish flattering or disingenuous praise where it is not due, so your words carry gravity with them.

Yes, Queen Anne is a type of house that was very popular in Victorian times. Oh, and at first, I had Thomas' introduction further in, but then I read somewhere that in a romantic story, you must hint right away at that romance to come. I'm glad you noticed. And while it was unintended, I'm glad that tension about the possibility of her being mugged on the way home served as a red herring to keep you reading. Hadn't even thought of that.

Again, thanks so much!

You come across as witty on the forums so I thought I'd give your first chapter a read. Even though this isn't my genre, far from it, I know what is a well-written piece of work, and your writing in this chapter is almost immaculate. The first sentence was a little awkward, but not bad. Everything else was perfect. What you have done best in this chapter is setting the time period. From the language Izzy uses in her dialogue, her narrative voice to the settings, you have transported the reader back in time.

Words: I find sometimes writers cannot do historical fiction because they do not use appropriate words to fit the era, but you have obviously sorted this out. An example that instantly comes to mind is "comely." I had to smile at this word because I would never have thought to use it (which is why I haven't written historical fiction). It wasn't just this one word, but you had a phlethora of them to set the tone.

Settings: Now this is where you excelled. The lighting, the houses, in particular the description of Izzy's was perfectly done. I'm not exaggerating either, as so many people do on here. If I do not think a story is good I don't bother to waffle on like this. By the way, I don't know what a Queen Anne is, but assumed by the context and surrounding words you used that it was a style of house. Hopefully, I'm correct because, as I don't like being wrong :)

Characters: They were good. Izzy comes across as a prudish young woman, which seems to fit her standing. She's also feisty, not allowing the men to get the better of her. The "comely" fella did apologise so she won that victory. Now, back to him. He sounds very interesting, his attractiveness and familiarity to Izzy allows me to think he plays an important role in the story. Just wait a mo, I'll go check your synopsis as I forgot to read it....thought so, he's the romantic interest. Cool.

I liked the addition of Izzy's thoughts about her mother, and the conversation with the Peacock blue lady with the flaming hair (your descriptions are very good--distinctive). Obviously, her mother is hiding her money problems from her daughter. In regards to the peacock lady, I liked the rump description. A nice bit of humor added in there.

Now, for a second there, as Izzy walked home, I thought she was going to be mugged or attacked in some way. Her nervousness was the reason I thought this, plus, she was snide to those guys. Because of this you did add some nice tension.

Text: I didn't spot any typos. The sentence and paragraph structure overall flowed nicely.

Sorry, that I don't have anything constructive to say. All the best - Marita.

The pace is set early on for a good story here. First observation. More dialogue to tell the story instead of black space. The narrative suffers when the reader is not allowed to discover the theme through dialogue. My humble opinion.

Appreciate observation.

There is an overuse of adverbs and adjectives.

Part of the reason it's taken me over nine years to finish is because I'm striving to straddle the fence of it being a throw-back to Austen and Bronte with its slower pacing and rich description, and in appealing to today's reader. I assure you, this was intentional and has already been pared as much as I'm comfortable with.

Lets take your first paragraph in CH1. One must certainly agree that a good first is imperative. I'll pick on it and see what you think. First, I would have split the first sentence into two. It contains 41 words and that unfortunately, is never a good idea. Too wordy.

See comment above.

I'll bring a couple of details to mind and you tell me what you think. All in the same sentence you have "Without being attentive", which lends thought to present tense. Then you use "having collided" which suggest past and "soon found herself lying" which suggests future. Hence "soon". No..it was then. The collision had happened. Elongated sentences can do this to us. I'd break that up simply because many shoppers will sometimes read a first sentence of a book when browsing.

If you really want to know my thoughts, okay. All of my beta readers didn't get tripped over that; no once. In fact, once I re-worked that first paragraph for the umpteenth time, I finally got the feedback I wanted, in that it was very evocative and reflective of the period.

Use of commas to pause in dialogue. Also, (see there) when addressing people it preceeds their name. Or...perhaps, when using action or calling someone a name in an action sequence. Example from your writing:
Of course not you silly girl. SHOULD READ: Of course not, you silly girl.

Thanks.

I notice you never use semi-colons.

A friend of mine teaches creative writing and is a prolific mid-list author, and I think I agree with him: There should be very few times in a writing career when you need a semi-colon.

The dialogue does not tell enough of the story. It is as if the narrator is doing it all. You'll lose readers like that.

Pared down all I was comfortable with. For me to merely introduce characters because I needed more dialogue seemed stilted.

Yet, all of the attention she could muster in the moment in time...... (drop "in time") It ugly(s) your sentence. Too wordy.

Thanks.

Mother and she had made it a ritual to ............. (She and her mother). Remember, if you choose to use the narrator's voice, you are forced to use proper English. The more you use dialogue from characters, well...you get away with stuff because it is how "folks" talk. You with me..(?)

This is still proper Victorian even though it's New York. I took more liberties with the dialogue than the narrator, because my beta readers who are versed in the genre suggested that be the best way to handle it.

You are a descriptive person. You like to talk. Your writing displays it.
(Notice I did not say, "you are a 'very' descriptive person. You like to talk 'alot'. Your writing 'really' displays it.)

Um, yeah--got it. Thanks.

Stephen King has written a great book called "On Writing". I hope you are not insulted if I were to recommend getting it. There are many imitators....buy his!

To my knowledge, he's never attempted historical fiction that mimicks the old way of writing.

Thanks for taking the time. Really appreciate it.

Carla,

You find a perfect way to warm up towards the main character by calling her Miss Audley first, then switching to Isabella, and finally referring to her as Izzy. That makes the reader totally fall for the main character. Well, that was the case with me.

The way Isabella speaks to the stranger shows she is not so easy to intimidate. I find the opening chapter supreme and promising to provide an enjoyable read.

“Mr Puss. He was the one family member who understood a good nap.” – admirably put!!!

You write with style that appeals to me immensely. Keep going like this ;)
Stars bestrewn with pleasure.

Ivan
The Beholder

My apologies! Usually I receive an e-mail saying that someone has left a comment on my book, but I never got one for this post or the one I just received a few minutes ago and found by accident.

I appreciate your "stars," although I admit to not seeing their point. Glad you enjoyed the first chapter.

The pace is set early on for a good story here. First observation. More dialogue to tell the story instead of black space. The narrative suffers when the reader is not allowed to discover the theme through dialogue. My humble opinion.

There is an overuse of adverbs and adjectives. Be careful with that as again the reader is restricted from imagining. Overuse of these tools can be habit forming. LOL. I do it all the time. For some reason, it stands out in other's writing easier. (I could have said "much" easier) Example.

Lets take your first paragraph in CH1. One must certainly agree that a good first is imperative. I'll pick on it and see what you think. First, I would have split the first sentence into two. It contains 41 words and that unfortunately, is never a good idea. Too wordy. I'll bring a couple of details to mind and you tell me what you think. All in the same sentence you have "Without being attentive", which lends thought to present tense. Then you use "having collided" which suggest past and "soon found herself lying" which suggests future. Hence "soon". No..it was then. The collision had happened. Elongated sentences can do this to us. I'd break that up simply because many shoppers will sometimes read a first sentence of a book when browsing.

Use of commas to pause in dialogue. Also, (see there) when addressing people it preceeds their name. Or...perhaps, when using action or calling someone a name in an action sequence. Example from your writing:
Of course not you silly girl. SHOULD READ: Of course not, you silly girl.

I notice you never use semi-colons. You can tie two thoughts together with them. They are a wonderful tool to have in the toolbox. One shouldn't overuse them, but, they are nice to have.

The dialogue does not tell enough of the story. It is as if the narrator is doing it all. You'll lose readers like that.

Writers have argued for years over beginning sentences with the word "But". Just saying....

Yet, all of the attention she could muster in the moment in time...... (drop "in time") It ugly(s) your sentence. Too wordy.

Mother and she had made it a ritual to ............. (She and her mother). Remember, if you choose to use the narrator's voice, you are forced to use proper English. The more you use dialogue from characters, well...you get away with stuff because it is how "folks" talk. You with me..(?)

You are a descriptive person. You like to talk. Your writing displays it.
(Notice I did not say, "you are a 'very' descriptive person. You like to talk 'alot'. Your writing 'really' displays it.)

The above is an example of being thrifty. I also look to show how not to overuse words. Mainly adverbs.

Stephen King has written a great book called "On Writing". I hope you are not insulted if I were to recommend getting it. There are many imitators....buy his!

I am not much more than a novice writer myself. Certainly no expert. I love writing. I can see you do, too. Stay at it. My best to you.

Carla,

You find a perfect way to warm up towards the main character by calling her Miss Audley first, then switching to Isabella, and finally referring to her as Izzy. That makes the reader totally fall for the main character. Well, that was the case with me.

The way Isabella speaks to the stranger shows she is not so easy to intimidate. I find the opening chapter supreme and promising to provide an enjoyable read.

“Mr Puss. He was the one family member who understood a good nap.” – admirably put!!!

You write with style that appeals to me immensely. Keep going like this ;)
Stars bestrewn with pleasure.

Ivan
The Beholder

I began the Gaslight Journal today and quite enjoyed what I read. The writing is tight and the narrator's voice ably captures the time the characters live within. The bump with the anonymous gentleman, and the MC's reaction to it, does a nice job at beginning to develop the protagonist. Likewise, that scene builds a bit of intrigue. Stated differently, you accomplish a lot within a few short paragraphs and I applaud you for it. At one point, you write, "Today, she found the weather was revealing itself to indeed, serve as a new way to meet eligible bachelors." I don't like the split infinitive (i.e., to serve), and recommend deleting "indeed," but if you're partial to it, I suggest either "Today, she found the weather indeed revealed itself as a new way to meet eligible bachelors" or "Today, she found the weather indeed served as a new way to meet bachelors." If nothing else, as written, you must place an additional comma before the "indeed." I have starred this book and expect to read more soon. Best of luck.

Hi Robert,

Thanks so much for reading, and for the suggestion. Finding that perfect period narrative has been the most difficult part of this for me, so I think that's what precipitated that particular sentence structure, but I like your suggestions.

Thanks again.

I began the Gaslight Journal today and quite enjoyed what I read. The writing is tight and the narrator's voice ably captures the time the characters live within. The bump with the anonymous gentleman, and the MC's reaction to it, does a nice job at beginning to develop the protagonist. Likewise, that scene builds a bit of intrigue. Stated differently, you accomplish a lot within a few short paragraphs and I applaud you for it. At one point, you write, "Today, she found the weather was revealing itself to indeed, serve as a new way to meet eligible bachelors." I don't like the split infinitive (i.e., to serve), and recommend deleting "indeed," but if you're partial to it, I suggest either "Today, she found the weather indeed revealed itself as a new way to meet eligible bachelors" or "Today, she found the weather indeed served as a new way to meet bachelors." If nothing else, as written, you must place an additional comma before the "indeed." I have starred this book and expect to read more soon. Best of luck.

This is a revisit under the now not quite so new scheme.

A stylish historical novel. I think calling it Chick Lit is a disservice, although I know where you are coming from.

I like the opening which is atmospheric, gently dramatic and quietly establishes the lead character as a young lady who can stand up for herself. I also like the way the mystery of her mother’s current situation unfolds, although it seems to do so quite slowly, judging from my dipping into random chapters to see how the story is progressing (if I have missed anything crucial in the meantime, then I tender my apologies).

The idea of giving the narrative a period feel works well in many places, particularly when the POV is clearly Isabelle’s. Every now and then, though, I came across a phrase that jarred with me and felt too anachronistic: “Torn was she”, from the last chapter posted here, is an example of this.

Despite the very occasionally jarring note, this comes across as a good read and a potentially very entertaining one.

J.S.Watts
A Darker Moon

Thank-you for the comments. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.

Enjoyed reading and look forward - hopefully- to more.

This is a revisit under the now not quite so new scheme.

A stylish historical novel. I think calling it Chick Lit is a disservice, although I know where you are coming from.

I like the opening which is atmospheric, gently dramatic and quietly establishes the lead character as a young lady who can stand up for herself. I also like the way the mystery of her mother’s current situation unfolds, although it seems to do so quite slowly, judging from my dipping into random chapters to see how the story is progressing (if I have missed anything crucial in the meantime, then I tender my apologies).

The idea of giving the narrative a period feel works well in many places, particularly when the POV is clearly Isabelle’s. Every now and then, though, I came across a phrase that jarred with me and felt too anachronistic: “Torn was she”, from the last chapter posted here, is an example of this.

Despite the very occasionally jarring note, this comes across as a good read and a potentially very entertaining one.

J.S.Watts
A Darker Moon

Hi. I only had time to read short passages, enough to like and back it. I’ll try to come back for more and a in depth commentary. Tell me which chapter you would like me to pay close attention to?
Meantime, could you please check TO KILL A DEAD MAN?
Thanks.
Dan

If you could start your comments with chapter three, that would be great. I just don't think many get to the that point. Thanks so much, Dan!

Hi. I only had time to read short passages, enough to like and back it. I’ll try to come back for more and a in depth commentary. Tell me which chapter you would like me to pay close attention to?
Meantime, could you please check TO KILL A DEAD MAN?
Thanks.
Dan

Hi Carla.I've read chapter one so far. The title is great, nice pitch and I liked Isabella immediately. I felt quite a romantic vibe and I like your style.It's accessible but detailed, very good.

I'll add to WL and give you some shelf time later this week.

Best of luck, Claire

I was remiss in thanking you and didn't want to neglect that.

As soon as I started reading, the story came back to me. So, yes, I have read this awhile ago. I liked it then and browsing through the first chapter again, like it just as much now.
Written in a gentle way, this story should appeal to all who enjoy historical fiction with romantic overtones.
Sprinkling with stardust and for a place on my shelf.
Margaret.

Thank so much, Margaret. I'm pulling for yours!

This was a fine evocation of manners and propriety, with a hint of cheekiness, too. You start with your blustery heroine flat on her backside, having been knocked over by a mysterious man. Izzy's buttoned-in to her family life, too, and I think of the tone of lots of (massive-selling) family sagas of the past. I didn't get to engage with the dead man's journal - things the dead leave us are such a brilliant "in" to a story - but it's a belting idea. Fine historical drama written with some style. And you finish with a knob being turned, which of course appeals to the giggling schoolboy in me! Good luck with this, fine work

P

Thanks, Pat. Much appreciated!

As soon as I started reading, the story came back to me. So, yes, I have read this awhile ago. I liked it then and browsing through the first chapter again, like it just as much now.
Written in a gentle way, this story should appeal to all who enjoy historical fiction with romantic overtones.
Sprinkling with stardust and for a place on my shelf.
Margaret.

This was a fine evocation of manners and propriety, with a hint of cheekiness, too. You start with your blustery heroine flat on her backside, having been knocked over by a mysterious man. Izzy's buttoned-in to her family life, too, and I think of the tone of lots of (massive-selling) family sagas of the past. I didn't get to engage with the dead man's journal - things the dead leave us are such a brilliant "in" to a story - but it's a belting idea. Fine historical drama written with some style. And you finish with a knob being turned, which of course appeals to the giggling schoolboy in me! Good luck with this, fine work

P

Hi Carla.I've read chapter one so far. The title is great, nice pitch and I liked Isabella immediately. I felt quite a romantic vibe and I like your style.It's accessible but detailed, very good.

I'll add to WL and give you some shelf time later this week.

Best of luck, Claire

My second short.
http://www.authonomy.com/forums/threads/68646/my-second-short-story-dedicated-to-jayg-/

When I get the time, I will start my 3rd short. I should be interesting. I want to write it in the 2nd person and it will be about a writer and one of his character that he falls in love with.

"Why do you say me hair is strawberry blonde? It's ginger blonde, and my skin doesn't blush either, it's naturally rosey."

"I like strawberry blonde and you do blush. Listen, I'm the writer here."

"So, you like the color of my hair?"

"I didn't say that, but, yes I do."

"Do you like me?"

Anyway Carla, you get the idea.

Hi Carla,
I came back to read a bit more, and this was a good choice at the end of a long day. I have no crit to offer for chapters 3 and 4. It flows nicely. Should be published. And I wish there were more books like this here. Yes, it is more feminie than I would ordinarily choose, but in an attempt to be supportive of good writing, I'll keep coming for installments, commenting as I can. I give this 6 stars; it's been on my WL, in line for my shelf.
Regards,
John Campbell

Nicely written. On my WL.

Brilliant and Backed.

-Judith B. Shields
[Twice Reborn]

Hi Carla
Charming. The Gaslight Journal is utterly charming. I need to be loyal to those on my shelf for a reasonable time, but I am starring this and putting it on my WL.
Regards,
John B Campbell . . . Walk to Paradise Garden

Thanks kindly, Mr. Campbell. I do appreciate it so much.

Regards.

Hi Carla
Charming. The Gaslight Journal is utterly charming. I need to be loyal to those on my shelf for a reasonable time, but I am starring this and putting it on my WL.
Regards,
John B Campbell . . . Walk to Paradise Garden

Hi Carla

Stunning type colour initially I thought the hangover had impacted on my vision. Enjoyed this immensely and was captured hook line and sinker from line one.

Best Wishes

Richard

Carla,
Thank you for turning me on to "conflict" in characters. I am brand spanking new to writing,
and as my friend with the master's has told me, ...I am open to suggestion.

I have shelved your book and will read it looking for the "conflict". If you have any tips
on what defines "conflict" in characters . i.e. explanation, example...I would greatly appreciate it.
Also, Plip was a big help with my opening paragraph. If you are interested....
I think it is much better now. (Though, maybe not quite there yet.)

Charles[endquote]

Hello Charles (nice to know your real name),

Thank-you for your comments.

I've snipped your story since I didn't want it to confuse anyone else reading the comments, as the section is about my own book, but you didn't know that, so, no harm, no foul.

I will read your opening again, and then discuss it in its proper thread. I will also, again, try to help you understand conflict.

Thanks again,
Carla

Carla,
Thank you for turning me on to "conflict" in characters. I am brand spanking new to writing,
and as my friend with the master's has told me, ...I am open to suggestion.

I have shelved your book and will read it looking for the "conflict". If you have any tips
on what defines "conflict" in characters . i.e. explanation, example...I would greatly appreciate it.
Also, Plip was a big help with my opening paragraph. If you are interested....
I think it is much better now. (Though, maybe not quite there yet.)

Charles


Chapter 1

It wasn’t so much the incessant music being played right outside his office window of the construction trailer that was driving him mad, as much it was Dmitry and Roman’s God awful singing. He knew he would have to put up with it for the next six months but wasn’t sure his sanity would hold out.

“Dmitry”, shouts their supervisor from the door of his construction trailer, “…if you don’t shut up your mouths and turn off that music, you will all be looking for new jobs.”

“Anatoly, it’s you who should shut your mouth” shouts back Dmitry, “It helps us work and we get a lot done”.

Anatoly simply shakes his head and returns to the construction trailer. “What am I to do with them? They are my best workers.”

For the last decade or so, communism in Russia had lost its flavor with her people, especially her youth. It wasn’t because the system does not favor those that succeed or posses exceptional abilities, as much as it was the lack of accessibility to what the rest of the world has to offer. Especially Germany, England and most importantly, the United States.

Dmitry is not successful, nor has he exceptional talents. However, he does love rock and roll.

It is late spring in Udomlya, Russia. The year is 1976 and Dmitry Kurakin and his co-workers are working on the new Kalinin nuclear power plant construction. Dmitry is a young, handsome man in his late 20’s, with an athletic build, a chiseled look and a knack for mechanics. He has worked with the same three co-workers on previous construction jobs and knows them well. They are all close friends who share a love of soccer and often compete with the other workers at the plant. Dmitry and Roman love the English rock music of the 60’s and 70’s. Sergey prefers jazz music and Michal knows nothing about music. Often, they would work while rock music played on Dmitry’s Russian made cassette recorder. Dmitry and Roman sing with the recorder.

When asked, Dmitry will say that he learned his English from listening to Rock and Roll.

Dmitry and Roman continue singing with the recorder.

“People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

This is a strong narrative voice and although the style takes a little gettting used to it is consistent and convincing. I did think at times it got a little too wordy for its own good, but then that's more a matter of taste than anything.

Overall the writing is strong and consistent and the sense of trouble on the horizon is well conveyed. And most importantly it reads well. I will certainly give it some shelf time when some space opens up over the next couple of days.

Thank you for taking such thorough, albeit still incomplete time with this. A lot of your questions would've been answered if you had time to continue reading.

Also, I've addressed a lot of these concerns in my edits already, and you mentioning them only confirmed them for me, so, thanks for that.

Again, thanks for the comments, and I do hope it gets some shelf time, as you promise. ;)

Cheers!

This is a strong narrative voice and although the style takes a little gettting used to it is consistent and convincing. I did think at times it got a little too wordy for its own good, but then that's more a matter of taste than anything.

Specificaly, there was a lot of 'to be' used (would be, could be, had to be, never be and also frequent use of 'been') and while I could make the argument that this made passages feel a bit distant and passive, that wasn't what really tripped me up, it was more that the same word turning up so regularly, often close together, just reads awkwardly. Not always, but for example:
...she immediately knew this had to be Mother's special Christmas present. It was one of those gifts that her mother would never be caught buying for herself.

I also thought there were many instances of 'that' that you could have removed and made for a smoother read (the one in the line above for example).

And you used the term 'rounded' noticeably often in the first couple of chapters. it's a small thing, but when a writer gets stuck using the same terminology over and over it really starts to get distracting, the brain being very good at spotting repetition like that.

Mrs Tinsdale says about the Gardening club 'We belonged...' and from this Izzy gets the impression that she means her mother is no longer a member, but although the 'belonged' part does indicate past tense and her logic about that is all fine, there is no particular reason to think 'We' includes her mother. In fact becasue Mrs T also seems to not be a member means there could be all sorts of reaons why people are leaving the club. I would say having Mrs T be an ex-member makes it more confusing, and Izzy's leap of logic that 'we' means her mother doesn't follow.

Izzy's acceptance of Lilly's suggestion they taljk about it later felt a bit convenient. it suits the writer to make it so, but to have her concerned and supicious and then be so easily deflected and have sweet dreams didn't seem very convincing to me. Mrs T's comment, the lack of xmas decorations, the missing staff, all build up the sense of something is worng, so I would suggest that you could make more of how Lilly puts her daughter's mind at rest. The fact her room is wonderful, and Lilly's is so threadbare is an excellent way to show the reader, but I think you need to make more of how Izzy is reassured (her mother's stories about the staff only made it seem more suspicious).

Clearly there are financial issues, and if you just have Izzy put those suspicions aside it comes across as a little too convenient, i think.

Izzy is a well formed character, her propensity for leading with her mouth is an engaging characteristic. The formal nature of the narrative and the dialogue takes some of the pace out of the story, but I think the tone adds flavour to the story making it feel very much about a particular time and place, which worked very well imo.

In terms of story, do I really care about Izzy yet? Probably not all that much. She seems to be in for a rude awakening of some sort, but so far bumping into some men and reuniting with her cat, although all nicely told, don't really make me feel particularly like I'm in the flow of a story. I liked her personality, but her sense of entitlement that you will (I assume) proceed to puncture didn't really come across strongly enough. You do get across that she has certain expectations of her position in life, but this is a foreign time and place so what those expectations are could do with elucidating maybe. i certainly don't know what strata of this society she belongs to (there's certainly going to be more than two), and revealing these things after things go wrong will rob the story of tension, like only revealing there was a bomb on the bus after it explodes.

I am speaking from the disadvantge of not knowing what happens later, so I maybe talking complete hooey, but within scenes like when she bumps into the young men, as well as setting up whatever it was setting up, I feel you could work in a greater sense of her perceived status as a lady, rather than just make her seem a slightly independent, feisty type who could be from any class.

i think building her up like that would make the reality of her situation hit is that more powerful. I also think the mother needed to be a little cleverer at allaying her daughter's suspicions especially when she has the big gardening club question preying on her mind. As a writer it's easy to turn off a character's curiosity, but it doesn't ring very true the way you have it currently, imo.

Overall the writing is strong and consistent and the sense of trouble on the horizon is well conveyed. And most importantly it reads well. I will certainly give it some shelf time when some space opens up over the next couple of days.

Okay...summary of thoughts.

I shouldn't be distracted from the story by the words used or the order...they should flow. I want to get into the story and get involved with Izzy and her worries. So far I think you are trying too hard to be authentic rather than getting in with cranking up the story tension.

Well, normally I would entertain your suggestions, but two things:

1. You are the ONLY person to nit the conflict.
2. You are the ONLY person to nit the narrative voice.

If two other people had problems (and it's been critiqued in other various groups besides here) then I would've entertained the idea that you were probably right. And in the beginning, before the fifty re-writes, you were right. But I respectfully disagree.

Okay...summary of thoughts.

I shouldn't be distracted from the story by the words used or the order...they should flow. I want to get into the story and get involved with Izzy and her worries. So far I think you are trying too hard to be authentic rather than getting in with cranking up the story tension.

 
    “Mother, I am home!”
    In spite of her anxiety, she could not contain her excitement.  Without waiting for an answer, she pulled off her gloves and hat, tossed the bag with her mother’s gift and her own reticule down onto the hall tree, all while taking stock.
    “Some things never change,” she said.  At that moment she noticed the silver salver and how it was suspiciously empty of cards, but chose to shrug if off.  Mother must have cleared them away as Rachel would have surely called by now.  She removed her scarf.  Though the hallway was dim, everything was still the way it had been when she left.
    “Mother!  I am home!  Where are you hiding?”
    “Bella!  My Bella!” came the thick Indian dialect from the dining room.  “Oh, I so happy to see you.”  The woman emerged with her arms outstretched, throwing them around a most surprised Isabella.
    “Sharmi!  Oh, what a kind greeting.  You are well, yes?” 
    Sharmisthma Reddy, the Audley’s housekeeper, had been on the staff for almost twenty years, and had watched Isabella grow.
    “Yes, miss, I quite well, thank-you.  ‘s so good to see you.  You Mama’s been very worried.”
    “I think ‘worried’ might be a bit much,” said Lilly Audley as she approached.
    “Mother!”  Izzy’s delight could not be contained as she slipped into the waiting arms of her mother.  She melted into their warmth with a smile, and for a long moment, neither woman moved.  Izzy listened to the soft beating of her mother’s heart, feeling very much like a child.  Suddenly, all of the day’s emotional uncertainties came to the fore and she felt a tear.  There, in the calm quiet of the front entry hall, Isabella and Lilly Audley, for a suspended moment in time, grieved again for John; the man they would never stop missing.
I THOUGHT WE HAD A MANNERED COMEDY HERE...NOTHING WRONG WITH A CHANGE OF MOOD THOUGH.
    After the flooding of tears had subsided A TEAR, IT SAID ABOVE and Lilly saw POINT OF VIEW SWITCH that Izzy had control of her faculties, she released the grip on her daughter, pulled back, and with her finger cupped CAN YOU CUP A FINGER? beneath her daughter’s chin, raised her CAREFUL OF CONFUSION OVER OWNERSHIP OF FACE face to meet her eyes.  Mrs. Reddy had stood silent during the encounter, and now her dark skin glistened under the glow of the gas lamps.
    “Here, use one of my handkerchiefs and do not think another thing about it, darling.” WHO SAYS THIS? MRS REDDY? SHE WAS THE LAST PERSON MENTIONED.
    Without a word, Izzy nodded and accepted, all while wondering how her mother could have possibly known what she was thinking.
    “I am clairvoyant,” and all three women laughed through their tears.
    As they made their way to the breakfast room in the back of the house, Izzy noticed that Mrs. Reddy had lain a small meal of homemade bread, hard cheeses and sausages.
    “You must be clairvoyant if you knew that I would be late, and that I would be famished.”
    “Well, I do know that you are your father’s daughter and he could never get any place on time, and you are your mother’s daughter in that you love a good midnight snack.”
    Izzy laughed again, if only because she loved hearing the lyrical voice that she had missed so.  On days that she traveled, she always thirsted for adult conversation.  The lady who occupied the seat across from her on the train earlier, for lack of a less vulgar expression, was a stoic old crow, as she rambled on about her forty-five year old son who lived with her and could not find anything of substance to do but live on her twenty-thousand a year. IS THIS RELEVANT?
    “I want you to sit down and allow me to serve you.  Mrs. Reddy, you may go now.”
    Sharmi nodded, and gave a slight bow before winking at Izzy.  “We catch up tomorrow.  G’night Mrs. Audley.”
    Izzy was overcome with much fatigue and she slid into the wooden chair.  As Lilly set out a tall glass of cider, Izzy realized that perhaps she had she missed taking care of someone.  She had not been a mother herself yet, but Izzy realized that perhaps mothers have this need to take care of people.  While she was fiercely independent BIT OF TELL THIS. LET‘S SEE HER BE FIRECELY INDEPENDENT RATHER THAN HEAR BOUT IT FROM THE NARRATOR , Izzy decided that for the length of her stay, she would be more than happy to humor her mother.
    Lilly pulled up a chair adjacent to her daughter, leaned her cheek on her fist, and watched Izzy eat. 
    While she WHO? LILLY WAS THE SUBJECT OF THE LAST SENTENCE AND WITH YOUR HEAD HOPPING IT COULD BE HER had not thought of it before, it must have been at least sixteen hours since she had eaten her last meal, and with the first bite of warm bread in her mouth, her stomach began screaming for more. 
    “It is so nice to have you home, muffin.  No, do not say anything, you eat.  We have plenty of time to talk after you have had a good night’s sleep.”
    Izzy nodded as she took a sip of the cool cider.  Oh the times in life when we are allowed, nay encouraged, to simply be sweet, youthful girls again! WITH CIDER?
    It was at this instant, as if on cue, that the most horrendous ruckus was heard from a back room, slowly working its way down the hallway.  For a second, Izzy thought maybe it was Elizabeth, her ladies’s maid.  But after much ado, there was a sliding on the wooden floors as it rounded the doorway into the breakfast room, and right onto Izzy’s waiting lap.
    “Puss!  Mr. Puss!  Oh my baby!  Just let me look at you, sweetheart,” said Izzy cooing, petting and fawning over the black and white short-haired cat.
    He was very happy to see his mistress, and responded in kind with a purr so loud that he sounded like there were two of him.  He was so overjoyed to see her, that he immediately stopped rubbing her chin with his face and walked up onto her shoulder.  He perched himself at his usual lookout:  the back of her neck.  I THINK A MONKEY WOULD BE MORE EXOTIC AND INTERESTING.
    She giggled, remembering all of those sweltering summers in the garden.  She would be bent over her delicate pansies and then let out a shriek as he would neatly land on her back, unannounced. 
    With Puss now firmly in his place, Izzy resumed eating, as she too, was used to this routine.
    “It is just so good to see you two together again,” and Lilly.
    “I am so happy he is doing well.  I wager he was wonderful company for you in this awfully large house by yourself.”
    “Please, do not use slang, but oh my, yes.  He has chosen me as his official play toy, and I have chosen him as my official shadow.  The maids cannot even begin to get any sweeping done as he finds the broom just uproarious,” she said as she made her way over to the cabinet, clearing some of the food.
    Isabella laughed, then took another bite of sausage.  “How is Marta by the way?” 
    Marta was their housemaid of ten years.
    Lilly suddenly dropped a jar of eggs.  Clearly, she had not been prepared to tackle this subject so soon.  At best, she thought tomorrow would be the soonest she would need to answer questions from her daughter, and did not have a rehearsed answer ready.  She certainly did not feel like going into the story tonight, yet her daughter was very tenacious.  Lilly knew that the gates had been opened and there would be no way to close them, save that of a full, sordid explanation which she decided she was not prepared to handle tonight. POINT OF VIEW SWITCH AGAIN.
    So, drawing in a slow breath, she turned to her daughter.  In a matter-of-factly manner, and with the least amount of concern, she began, “I have given her the month off to visit her family in Mexico.  Her mother is not doing well and I thought it would be nice for her to see her family.  In the meantime, either myself or Mrs. Reddy takes care of the housework.  It is not that much, and at times, I rather enjoy it.”

I’D RATHER WE JUST PICKED UP A CLUE OR TWO FROM IZZY’S POINT OF VIEW.

    Lilly’s hand began to shake, but she hid it before Izzy had chance to notice.
    As Izzy chewed the last of her food and stood with Mr. Puss still perched warmly on her neck, she walked over to where Lilly stood with her soiled plates.  She kissed her mother on the cheek, and said, “Oh Mother.  What a wonderfully thoughtful thing for you to do for Marta.  You must be the most principled lady I know.  And, while I am here, I will help you all that I possibly can, you know that, do you not?”
    Lilly, choking back tears and trying to hide her face, now blood-red with shame, only nodded her head in silence.  She made sure not to meet Izzy’s eyes, as they always had the power to find her out.  And that would happen soon enough.
    John would be so ashamed of me right now, but I will deal with that tomorrow.
    Quickly pulling herself together, she said, “Miss, it is time we made way up the stairs and got you into your own, proper bed.  How does that sound to you?”
    “Like heaven!” said Izzy.
    “Well then, I will help you get your things.  Do you have everything?
    “Yes I do.  I am ready.  Are you coming?”
    “Oh yes, I am ready to go up as well.  Shall we?”  She was anxious to get Isabella out of the mind of suspiciousness and into bed for some much needed repose.
    “Did you let the scullery maids have the month off as well?”
    “Yes, I did.  I could see no need for all of the help here with just myself.”
    As she followed her daughter up the two flights of stairs, each with an end of the steamer trunk in tow, Lilly Audley whispered a prayer asking God to forgive her for her impropriety.  She only hoped that he would hear her, understand, and show her mercy.
    Once at the top of the second flight, they set the trunk down for later retrieval and Lilly headed left to her chamber, with Izzy going in the opposite direction to hers. 
    Three years later, and Lilly had kept everything exactly as it had been left, with some signs of minor cleaning.  Izzy waltzed into the room and took note that the gaslights had been lit, as well as the bed made up with the warmer inserted.  Mr. Puss took his cue and jumped onto the antique quilt, sparing no time in getting himself into a comfortable position so as to begin the evening’s final bath.  Izzy’s heart gladdened, as she had missed her old friend.
    “Just one more semester, sweetie,” she said while scritching his chin, “and then we will be together for good.”
     Her first impulse was to walk around the room, reacquainting herself with all of her treasures, but thought better of it and headed for the bureau to get a fresh night-gown.  She changed in front of the fireplace, then headed into her own private bath to take care of her face, as well as her teeth. 
    With the baking soda in her mouth, Lilly, not seeing Izzy right away, yelled into the bathroom, “Honey, do you have everything you need?  I am going to retire and wanted to check.”
    “Grrrrrrrrrgwumph.”
    “Oh good, that is what I had hoped you would say.  Well, good night!”
    “No mother, wait!  I was spitting!”
    “Of course dear, that is exactly what you were doing,” Lilly teased.
    Izzy walked over to her mother, flung both arms loosely around her neck, planted a huge kiss on her right cheek and with much love in her heart, while heading to the bed, said, “Mother, the room is absolutely inviting and I love it.  Thank-you for the hard work you put into keeping it.  We are both very eager to retire.”
    “It looks as if you and Mr. Puss had no problem in taking up where you left off.”
    She circled around the bed to where Izzy lie, already wrapped under the covers, and just like the doting mother she was, began to tuck her firmly into place.
    “Mother, please stay for one of our talks,” said Izzy.
    “No dear, I am exhausted as I can see you are also.  Unless you have plans to leave me sooner than agreed upon, we have plenty of time for talking.  Now, you and your friend close your eyes, and dream sweet dreams.  And if you need anything, you know where I am.  Do you think you will feel like breakfast?  I can wake you if so.  Or, you can have the morning to sleep in, it is your choice.”
    Izzy thought a good moment while blankly scratching Puss behind the ears.
    “I am sure I will want breakfast, so whenever you get up will be fine.”
    With a final kiss on the forehead, Lilly said, “I will inform Mrs. Reddy and Elizabeth to let you sleep.  I will see you in the morning then.  I love you, little one.”
    Lilly then snuffed the gas lamp to the bed’s right, and in the room lit only by the glow of the fire, began making her way to the door.  She stopped at the doorway.  There in the silence, all she could hear was the crackling of the fire and the enormous purring of the friend who had not deserted the family like John had.  Lilly brushed away a tear, and turned to go.  As she pulled the door shut, her thought was, Now that I have my family back together, I am not going to let them go.
    Inside the darkened room, Izzy, lying in the nether world between wake and sleep, feeling Puss’s warmth beneath her fingers, began thinking of her family and of college, and how lucky she was to be able to get an education. 
    She whispered, “Puss?  Just think.  In four months I will be the first woman in our family to have a college degree, and I cannot wait.  I simply cannot wait!”
    With that last thought, she closed her exhausted but happy eyes into the most pleasant dreams she had in a long while.  Little did she know, that the coming days would change her life forever, and only if she were lucky would she ever dream sweet dreams again.
    Across the hallway, behind her door, Lilly Audley lay alone in her own bed under a thread-bare quilt, with no firewood for heat, no gas for her lamps, and only her racking sobs for company.

OKAY I LIKE THE BIT OF INTRIGUE BUT THE REST OF THIS HOMECOMING URGENTLY NEEDS SOME CONFLICT. SOMEBODY FOR IZZY TO CLASH WITH OR DISLIKE.

HMMM

I THINK YOU OVERDO THE DATED STYLE A BIT AND PERHAPS NEED TO LOOK AT A WORD COICE OR TWO. I ALSO THINK THE PEACOCK LADY NEEDS TO SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO ALARM HER A WEE BIT...PERHAPS “i HAVEN’T SEEN YOUR MOTHER ABOUT FOR AN AGE,” OR SOMETHING.

BUT YOU’VE GOT THE PLOT GOING AND SHE’S MET A MAN AND WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT SHE’S GOING TO NEED A MAN TO MARRY, AND I THINK SHE’S GOING TO BE FUN.

Well, you certainly took your time with chapter one. And while I disagree with most of this, and assure you that my word choices were considered carefully and then double- and triple-checked in other historical novels for authenticity, I do appreciate you taking the time.

In-depth comments soon coming on yours. I started it last night but was too tired to finish.

THOUGHTS IN CAPITALS
 
Without being attentive to where she was walking, Isabella Audley, having collided with something solid, soon found herself lying in the snow with the wind properly knocked out of her, wholly unaware of what it was that had blocked her path.
 
She lay for a moment, stunned. 'I hope no one is looking.'
 
"Help you up, miss?"
 
A man stood beside her with his hand proffered, a group of men his approximate age, just behind. I THINK THAT SHOULD BE TWO SENTENCES
 
Miss Audley, being a lady of privilege and the human condition A LADY OF THE HUMAN CONDITION? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? --never a good combination for one with her own mind--fought the urge to be proprietous SPELLING? AND SHOULDN‘T IT BE PROPRIETORIAL?, although, she knew well, NO COMMA NEEDED HERE that being suitable was indeed what had always been expected of her. This divergence, however, seemed to inevitably be her own undoing, much to the chagrin of her poor mother. DIVERGENCE FROM WHAT? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? SHE FOUGHT A BATTLE BETWEEN CONVENTIONALITY AND UNCONVENTIONALITY?
 
"Did you lose your eyesight in a horrible accident?" she yelled I THINK I WOULD PREFER HER TO SAY, OR EVEN HISS, RATHER THAN YELL , fully realizing that divergence had won out, yet again. Finding her reticule, she hastily made her way to her feet. In spite of her ire, she was not foolish enough to pass up a gentleman's hand, even if he needed a good lecture from a chapter in Our Deportment.
 
"Sorry, miss, I truly did not see you," said the man. A low ripple of chuckles permeated the group. PERMEATED? YOU MEAN THE CHUCKLES SOAKED INTO THE GROUP FROM OUTSIDE? WHO CHUCKLED?
 
As she brushed the snow from her skirts, she was aware of crimson creeping into her cheeks. I THINK SHE’D BE AWARE OF THE HEAT, NOT THE COLOUR.
 
"If you had any sense of decency, you would be ashamed right now."
 
The man deigned not to make any reply, but unable to contain himself, said, "I suppose, the same could be said of you, miss." THAT MAKES NO SENSE. IF HE DEIGNED NOT TO REPLY, THEN HE DIDN’T REPLY. BUT HE DID. He then tipped his hat to her in an exaggerated fashion. When he saw her anger at his statement, however, he knew an apology was in order. A BIT OF A POINT OF VIEW VIOLATION THERE.

I THINK YOU SHOULD STICK TO THE STORY AND AVOID THE COD WORDS. THE TIPPING THE HAT AND THE DIALOGUE IS GOOD. LET US SEE AND HEAR THE CHARACTERS AND LET THE NARRATION SERVE THE TALE.
 
"I should have been more careful. In fact, as a group of gentlemen always on the hunt for a beautiful maiden, we offer our most sincere apologies."
 
The men murmured agreements while tipping their hats to Isabella. HOW MANY MEN? WHAT TYPES? A BRIEF SENTENCE?
 
She stared at the lot of them, but considered the man in front of her. He was quite comely and tall, with mounds of thick hair. His clothing tailored, his mannerisms suggested a man of fine breeding; a gentleman. A smile formed on her lips, for he seemed quite familiar, and yet, she was finding great trouble in placing from where. “I will leave the judgment of the term gentlemen for the higher courts, as it is a most questionable modifier, but I accept your apology."
 
The handsome man smiled in return.  Against his better judgment, he allowed his eyes to boldly engage hers. This act, alone, would be cause enough for much speculation.  And yet, having full knowledge of the possible consequences, found he was unable to resist the urge.  I DON’T LIKE THIS POINT OF VIEW HOPPING.
 
"Good day to you, miss; we needs be on our way. And Merry Christmas to you," and with that, the men moved to exit.
 
"Just a moment," she said.
 
The group waited.
 
"Do we not know each other?"
 
The man, obviously taken aback, was having visible difficulty in hiding his anxiety at the question. "Uh, no miss, I do not believe we do." OVERDOING IT A BIT. LET HIM REPLY AND THEN SOMETHING SIMPLE LIKE “HE SEEMED DISCOMFORTED BY HER QUESTION.”
 
And before Izzy could form a proper response, they took their leave of her.
 
Upon gathering her things, WHAT THINGS? SHE’S GOT HER RETICULE. WHAT ELSE DOES SHE GATHER? she continued. The snow crunched beneath her high-heeled boots, making proceeding difficult at best. She had decided to leave off the patens, hoping to make better time. Blast the damp boots, and she had arrived at her decision. Today, she found the weather was revealing itself to indeed, YOU NEED A COMMA BEFORE INDEED IF YOU USE ONE AFTER - I’D SHORTEN THE SENTENCE A BIT serve as a new way to meet eligible bachelors.
 
But she had not a care in the world of it ???? IS THAT A GENUINE VICTORIAN-ISM? INCLUDING THE “OF IT”? and retreated from the image of the dark-haired man, vowing to think the matter out when she could avail herself of more time to give it proper attention.
 
It was five days into December, and her spirits were high. She had not seen her mother since spring, when Mrs. Audley traveled on a rare visit to Radcliffe. It was here that Izzy had enrolled in a curriculum in English Literature, and in doing so, honored the memory of her father.  Lilly Audley had remained for the full week of spring hiatus, and Isabella could not have been happier. Their small family suffered terribly since, only a week before Izzy was to depart, Sir John had died of complications from pneumonia. So while she felt great joy at the thought of seeing her mother again, it would also be bittersweet. This would be the first Christmas that Izzy had been home since his death, and she was determined in her heart to make this as special for her mother as best she could, knowing all too well that it could be a near to impossible task.
 
In fact, it was her desire to make her mother’s holiday special that had made her so late.  The line in Mrs. Jenkins's millinery was longer than she had anticipated, but once she saw the Burgundy velvet hat with the pale roses in the window, she immediately knew this had to be Mother's special Christmas present.  It was one of those gifts that her mother would never be caught buying for herself, which made it all the sweeter to Izzy as she laid out the bills. She gained pleasure from trying to picture the bliss on her mother's face as she opened the most unexpected present.
 
"May I gift wrap that for you, miss?" came the question that jolted Izzy out of her fantasy.
 
"Pardon me?"
 
"I would be happy to gift wrap this for you if you wish. Some beautiful new papers have just arrived that I think you will like."
 
"Oh yes, that would be lovely. And please make sure to add a nice gold ribbon. Mother does love gold during this time of year," she said.
 
"Fine. I will return straight away with your gift," and the saleslady disappeared behind the velvet curtain into the back room.
 
While waiting, Izzy decided to further inspect the spectacular stock of opulent hats. Each time she ran her fingers over the long pieces of silk that hung draped from the back of the brims, she was reminded of the times that she came here as a small girl with her mother. Being the only child also meant that it did not take much convincing to Mother that little girls were always in need of new hats. Hats were just as important to a woman of gentility as the proper slippers and gloves. Unashamedly, Mother loved indulging in the purchase of both. Nothing was too good for her daughter. She smiled at how musty show rooms and snippets of tulle could evoke such rich memories. An exquisite green hat then caught her eye, but a voice from behind startled her.
 
"Good afternoon."
 
"Is it me to whom you are addressing?" Izzy said as she turned around.
 
"Yes. Do forgive me, but are you the Audley girl?" said a huge woman standing an aisle over.
 
Izzy did not recognize her, but apparently the lady with the blazing red hair in the peacock blue walking outfit knew her. For a moment, Izzy had to analyze what she was seeing to make sure that all of that behind, was indeed bustle. She stifled the urge to laugh.
 
"May I ask who wants to know?" said Izzy, with a bit of the bluntness on which she prided herself.
 
"Oh dear me, yes, you certainly may. I am Mrs. Arthur Tinsdale, of the New York City Tinsdales. We moved here to Fairtown just about a year after you left for Harvard. My husband secured a professorship at the college, and I met your mother in church one day. We literally bumped into each other, laughed, struck up a conversation, and discovered that we both had an insatiable love for gardening. It was then that she informed me of her gardening club, and so I joined. We belonged to that club for the longest time."
 
The woman seemed to speak so quickly it was all Izzy could do in her exhausted state to keep up with the story. One thing Izzy did notice, was that the 'peacock lady' had used the word "belonged" in the past tense when speaking of the gardening club. How could that be, when Mother would never quit that club, short of hay fever or the second coming? When the woman finally paused to take a breath, Izzy saw her chance.
 
"What do you mean, belonged?"
 
The question caught the woman by surprise, and she said with sincere sympathy, "Oh dear, I do hope I have not been speaking out of turn. I just assumed that you knew."
 
Izzy felt her face creep crimson again and her heart flipped in her chest. She just knew that she could not listen to this woman's inane ramblings any longer. Without a proper dinner in her stomach, she did not possess the strength to attempt to set this woman's syntax in proper order, but yet her curiosity proved to be too strong. Just as she found words to press for further details, a short man with a moustache and cherry walking stick called to Mrs. Tinsdale from the door, and she excused herself, slipping out the shop as mysteriously as she appeared.
As she did so, the sales clerk returned with Izzy’s wrapped package. She thanked her and made her way into the cool night air, hoping to catch the Tinsdales, but as the shop door closed behind her, she caught only the hem of a peacock blue walking gown as it entered an awaiting carriage.
 
Noticing nightfall now, she did her best to put her disappointment and the scary blue woman out of her mind by pulling it back to the present. As she stopped to glance behind her once more before rounding the last corner of town, she drank it all in; the way the air tasted like ice; the warm glow surrounding each lamp. She promised to fully enjoy it another night.  Her mother knew she would be arriving and had Izzy not chosen to give leave to Charles, her footman, so to indulge in the brisk evening air, she might have arrived before dark.  She had no intentions of being so encumbered with a steamer trunk, so she left it at the station and made arrangements for a porter to deliver it at a later time.

I FIND MY ATTENTION WANDERING A BIT. WE HAD THE BIT OF SUMMARY ABOUT HER DAD DYING, THEN SHE BOUGHT THE HAT AND THE INCONSEQUENTIAL GIFT WRAPPING EXCHANGE (SUMMARISE THAT?) AND THEN THE PEACOCK WOMAN. THE HEART FLIPPING AND THE BLUSHING SEEMED TO BE AN OVER-REACTION TIO THE NEWS THAT HER MOTHER HAS LEFT THE GARDENING CLUB. BUT THEN SHE WAS LEAVING A STATION AND A TRUNK? CAN THIS ALL BE SIMPLIFIED?
 
Each time on her walks home, she would play a game with herself, imagining the people settling in for the evening in their Queen Anne homes with the amber glow from the lace-paneled windows. Were they stoking and banking fires for long, cold nights that lay ahead? Were there smells of imported spices, herbed breads, plum puddings soaked in brandy, and warm cinnamon scones coming from the kitchens? Were little girls already in their dressing gowns, curled up under their favourite quilts with the family tabby next to them trying to steal their warmth?
 
Mr. Puss! She had nearly forgotten him. He was the one family member who understood a good nap. He had been hers since childhood, and she was now fast approaching twenty-four.
 
Remorse crept in at that thought, and ruined her anticipation of seeing him again. Why, she should have been married by now. Everyone expected her to receive many offers at her coming out party, but it did not happen. So, all of Mother's society matrons decided that the next logical place for it to happen would be University. Is that not the sole reason women of her stature and advanced age go to college? This situation, too, unfolded in a different manner than expected, so what was she expected to do? Stop listening to the matrons. She laughed in an infectious manner at the thought of the group being at Mother's one afternoon for one of their weekly teas, when she informed them of her impending doom. She was almost certain that at least three would pass out from shock and need medical attention. HER IMPENDING DOOM?
 
"Perhaps I should carry oxygen therapy with me to save time."
 
The lights had begun to thin out now as Izzy continued on in the tree-lined streets. She also noticed that tonight there was not much traffic. So in the quiet, she settled into a soothing rhythm with the click of her heels and the beating of her heart, which she noted was unusually loud and rather fast for the medium pace that she kept. Her palms were sweaty; her lips dry. HAS THE SNOW CLEARED?
 
"This would not have anything to do with the pronouncement of the peacock lady in the millinery, would it?" she thought aloud. "Of course not you foolish girl. That is just the most preposterous thing you have said to yourself all evening, and there have been some wonders fallen from your lips. Why on Earth would there be anything wrong, and Mother not tell you? For Heaven's sake, you are all she has in the world now."
 
Yet all of the reassurance she could muster at this moment in time did nothing to stop her feet from picking up the pace a bit. Nor did it do anything to alleviate that ever growing lump of coal in the pit of her stomach.

THIS DOES SEEM TO BE A BIT OF AN OVER-REACTION, YOU KNOW.
 
She recognized her street, and realized she was just one block away, so she quickened her pace. Finally, she rounded the last corner and could not have been happier as her cherished childhood home came into view. She felt her heart leap at its site, SIGHT? but quickly stopped.
 
The family had always decorated Capriolé to extremes for Christmas. Mother and she made it a ritual to bathe every window of the Victorian in the flickering light of long, white tapers. But as she stood staring at the windows, they wore nothing but darkness. There was no hope of the season shining from within. There was only cold, stark nothingness that barely hinted at signs of life. AH!
 
As she commanded her feet to follow her body and move forward, the closer to the house she went, the clearer she could make out details of the porch. She remembered how it used to proudly wear the scent of greenery over every pane, every doorway and baluster of the elaborate porch that encircled the house. But tonight, that very porch also stood in blackness, lacking not only the usual small lamp to light the way, but even a single holly sprig.
 
Had Mother simply decided to wait so they could decorate together, as a family should? Stepping onto the boards of the porch and taking time to briefly note their need for a fresh painting, she decided this must be the only logical explanation. Part of her wanted to believe this, yet that horrible peacock lady's face crept into her mind, and her hand shook all over again as she reached for the glass doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she resolved that no matter the situation, she would be adult and handle it in the manner in which she would have made Father proud. Pleased with her decision, she turned the knob and entered.

HMMM

I THINK YOU OVERDO THE DATED STYLE A BIT AND PERHAPS NEED TO LOOK AT A WORD COICE OR TWO. I ALSO THINK THE PEACOCK LADY NEEDS TO SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO ALARM HER A WEE BIT...PERHAPS “i HAVEN’T SEEN YOUR MOTHER ABOUT FOR AN AGE,” OR SOMETHING.

BUT YOU’VE GOT THE PLOT GOING AND SHE’S MET A MAN AND WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT SHE’S GOING TO NEED A MAN TO MARRY, AND I THINK SHE’S GOING TO BE FUN.

Engaging book with an interesting premise and well written. A book that I would buy in the shops.

Backed

Lisa

Dear Carla, it was as captivating from the beginning, as I hope it is at the end when I beg you to send me your book, truly. I admit that I am a fan of historical, but not normally romance. But the way that you wrote reminded me of Catherine Cookson, [ I use to read them to my Mother ], but you have a natural habit to hold a reader with the use of your magnetism that makes it almost impossible not to be there. I also thought, that your emotional blend was beautifully written. There are past paramours everywhere, who could feel the commitment in your story. Poignant yet purposeful and even more personal, in places. Good luck and best wishes, with your wonderful book. I believe it should be noticed. Take care, Cicuta [ Carl, Arcane ].

The Gaslight Journal is well done through chapter one, which is all I've read so far. Long pitch is good and I like the story line presented although I think the pitch might be improved by cutting the last sentence. I'll return with comments after reading more if I find anything I think might be helpful to mention. [I do tend to agree with Pollux to a certain extent on the period language use in narrative of what I've read, although I will reserve judgement until I've read more - It seems to be growing on me as I go along. Also, I find the green fonts less than desirable.] I think Gaslight Journal deserves recognition here and am putting it on my shelf now.

[I would like to see your thoughts on Einstein's Road Trip, - mystical realism in an offbeat lit. fiction - when your time allows. Thanks.] G

Dear Carla
Wow, I love your story! I only read chapter one, but I pride myself on knowing right away if a book has what it takes to make it--and yours does. It's the kind of book I could curl up with on a cold day and not put down. You are very talented. I've only been at authonomy for several days and am just finding my way around. I'm in awe of your writing ability--it's so romantic.

"But as she stood staring at the windows, they wore nothing but darkness." This was one of my favorite lines. Your use of the senses surround the story--I could smell, feel, hear and touch the story world.

There was only one sentence that I had to go back and read and reread. I think it's one of the most important ones in the chapter because the micro-tension is centered around it. It was in reference to the gardening club. "We belonged to the club for the longest time." The WE here didn't register. Could she say instead, "Your mother and I belonged to the club for the longest...."? That way the reader knows she's talking about her mother. I thought the peacock lady was referring to herself and her family...maybe spouse, etc. It's only two words, but I think it would make a difference.

I will back this story and I gave it 5 stars. I think it should get 6, but I need to read the rest first...and I hope to soon.

Best,
Michelle (WILLOW)
PS If you read WILLOW please know that it's not as sophisticated as yours. It's for young teen girls.

Hi Michelle,

Thanks for catching this, and at first I didn't know what you meant, then had to go back and re-read, and I've made that change.

Looks like an interesting story in the making, after reading the first three chapters. I understand your use of language in the dialog to convey a flavor of the period, although I am not sure that it's necessary to extend that device to the narrative. I enjoyed the way you set-up the mother's anxiety at the prospect of having to reveal reality to her daughter, and you certainly know your cats! And now for some nits: "but yet" should probably be either but or yet. "She felt her heart leap at its site" (sight?). "Quietly, and with as much understanding as a mother could (gather?), she said,"

All the best,

Pollux

Thank-you for spotting these. And I saw them and made the changes to the original mss.

"Against his better judgment---" POV shift, from inside Isabella's head to inside the young gentleman's head.

Thanks for catching that. Try as I might, sometimes I still miss one or two.