Original (2006)
A bevvy of fluttering papers greeted Brittany as she entered the den. Small children and loose pages littered the room. Tom jumped up as she entered the room. "Here's mine!" he exclaimed, thrusting a crayoned sun into her hands. He checked his watch, then sighed in relief. He looked at Brittany accusingly. "You were almost late." Then he smiled. "But you weren't." He skipped over to the TV and sat next to Vic. He checked his watch again, and switched off the video game that Vic was glued to. A year younger than Tom, Vic just looked at him in bemusement.
Brittany walked through the room, picking up final submissions for the gallery. Sophie, situated in the window seat and pretending to read a book handed hers over to Brittany without glancing up. Renee waited quietly until Brittany reached him. He handed his up to her, intent gaze searching for her initial reaction. She smiled approvingly, and moved on to Verlee, who was writhing in her seat.
The children weren't allowed to beg their way into the Top Five, and Brittany saw Verlee's lips clamp shut as she handed her drawing. Her eyes were filled with yearning to be picked and the absolute self-control it took not to speak. Her mouth opened and Brittany's brows rose. Verlee said, "It's got a spell on it. It only works if you say it when you REALLY want to be somewhere else, and you hafta find a four-leaf clover and spin three times in the direction the wind is blowing. And you hafta be outside for it to work." She paused, and her eyes lit with inspiration. "Oh, and it only works on your birthday!" Her eyes grew wide, and she clamped her mouth shut again.
As she started to leave the room, a couple of sheets were tossed toward her feet. Looking in the direction they came from, she saw Jay, looking away, uninterested. Brittany suppressed a smile, and picked up the pages. She left the room, taking one last glance at the inhabitants. Vic, Gerry, Tita, Lena, Wil, Emma, Tom, and Andy were all absorbed in their various activities. Some were getting their galleries ready for the next week.
Four auras stood out. Verlee's squirming one, Jay's feigned indifference, Sophie's sheer expectation, and Renee's introverted intensity. Brittany sighed in relief. Choosing the Top Five should be easy enough this week. Around holidays, kids tended to go nuts, and the expectations were often too much for Brittany choose from. In that case, she handed it over to Colin.
Speaking of, there he was, sitting at his desk. Colin wasn't the best looking guy in the world, but Brittany would have been hard-pressed to find a better one. She felt her fortune as she stood in the doorway.
Brittany ran her fingers through Colin's hair that was growing a little too long down the nape of his neck. He sighed, and she kissed his neck. "Mm..." he said, turning his attention toward her.
A bevvy of fluttering papers greeted Brittany as she entered the den. Small children and loose pages littered the room. Tom jumped up as she entered the room. "Here's mine!" he exclaimed, thrusting a crayoned sun into her hands. He checked his watch, then sighed in relief. He looked at Brittany accusingly. "You were almost late." Then he smiled. "But you weren't." He skipped over to the TV and sat next to Vic. He checked his watch again, and switched off the video game that Vic was glued to. A year younger than Tom, Vic just looked at him in bemusement.
Brittany walked through the room, picking up final submissions for the gallery. Sophie, situated in the window seat and pretending to read a book handed hers over to Brittany without glancing up. Renee waited quietly until Brittany reached him. He handed his up to her, intent gaze searching for her initial reaction. She smiled approvingly, and moved on to Verlee, who was writhing in her seat.
The children weren't allowed to beg their way into the Top Five, and Brittany saw Verlee's lips clamp shut as she handed her drawing. Her eyes were filled with yearning to be picked and the absolute self-control it took not to speak. Her mouth opened and Brittany's brows rose. Verlee said, "It's got a spell on it. It only works if you say it when you REALLY want to be somewhere else, and you hafta find a four-leaf clover and spin three times in the direction the wind is blowing. And you hafta be outside for it to work." She paused, and her eyes lit with inspiration. "Oh, and it only works on your birthday!" Her eyes grew wide, and she clamped her mouth shut again.
As she started to leave the room, a couple of sheets were tossed toward her feet. Looking in the direction they came from, she saw Jay, looking away, uninterested. Brittany suppressed a smile, and picked up the pages. She left the room, taking one last glance at the inhabitants. Vic, Gerry, Tita, Lena, Wil, Emma, Tom, and Andy were all absorbed in their various activities. Some were getting their galleries ready for the next week.
Four auras stood out. Verlee's squirming one, Jay's feigned indifference, Sophie's sheer expectation, and Renee's introverted intensity. Brittany sighed in relief. Choosing the Top Five should be easy enough this week. Around holidays, kids tended to go nuts, and the expectations were often too much for Brittany choose from. In that case, she handed it over to Colin.
Speaking of, there he was, sitting at his desk. Colin wasn't the best looking guy in the world, but Brittany would have been hard-pressed to find a better one. She felt her fortune as she stood in the doorway.
Brittany ran her fingers through Colin's hair that was growing a little too long down the nape of his neck. He sighed, and she kissed his neck. "Mm..." he said, turning his attention toward her.
My Revision (2025)
Britney leaned against the doorway of the den and counted her mistakes. There was Vic, a slim four-year-old in Luigi pajama bottoms and a Yoshi shirt, Kool-Aid stains permanent around his mouth, glued to Mario Kart — a game he’d play twenty-four hours a day if Britney let him.
Next to him, Tom — five, pudgy, khakis and a button-down like a tiny accountant — divided his attention between a picture book and the race on-screen.
There was Jay, sixteen, and far less surly than he had been three years ago, when he'd moved in. He sat at the coffee table next to Aura, helping her cheat on her homework.
Ten years ago, Aura had been Britney's first -- and best -- mistake. Parents weren't supposed to choose favorites, but Britney didn't really think of herself as a parent so much as a warden. Aura was special, and not in the sentimental way that most parents thought their kids were special. For one thing, Aura's birth mother was a mermaid, and for another, Aura had magical powers.
Also, Aura was the only child Britney had adopted. The rest were all work that her social worker husband, Colin, had brought home with him. Britney had vowed to divorce him if he brought any more home. Then again, she'd made the same threat each time he brought home a kid. She was starting to think he didn't think she was serious.
Colin, Britney’s biggest mistake at six feet tall, joined her in the doorway and kissed the top of her head — a long drop from his height to her three-foot-five.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands as he stepped into the den. “Who’s got their drawings ready?”
The weekly drawing contest had been Colin's idea, of course. They'd posted five picture frames between the two windows in the kitchen and the five winners got their drawings displayed there for the whole week.
"I do!" Tom carefully closed his picture book, set it aside, and then picked up the old leather portfolio that Colin had given him. Tom scrambled to his feet and ran over to Colin.
Colin's favorite chair, an over-sized tufted gray leather monstrosity was occupied by Tita, Jay's two-year-old sister. But Britney's small yellow chintz armchair was free, so Colin squatted down onto that, his knees jutting aggressively toward the coffee table. Colin accepted the old leather portfolio and bent over it as Tom earnestly explained each of his submissions.
Sophie, twelve years old with short dark hair, wearing a baggy but immaculate matching white sweatshirt and sweatpants, bent over Tita. Tita was chewing on her forefinger and listening to something Sophie was saying. Sophie handed Tita a piece of paper that looked like it had been torn out of a coloring book. Coloring book pages were eligible for the contest, but didn't score as high as original artwork.
Tita scooted and wriggled her way out of Colin's chair, landing on her butt. She righted herself on the floor, turned, spotted Britney, and started toddling over. She was still chewing on the finger of one hand, the other hand held the now crumpled page. Sophie, following Tita's progress with an indulgent smile, looked over, and spotted Britney. She looked embarrassed and then defiant. She folded her arms and plopped down into Colin's chair, glaring at Britney.
Sophie had only been with Britney for a couple of weeks and had the worst attitude of any of the kids Colin had brought home. The kids tended to be confused, shy, and anxious at first. Colin explained that the other kids had come directly from their family's homes to Britney's, whereas Sophie had been through several foster homes. Most kids had intrinsic trust in adults, but Sophie had learned to be wary, even aggressive. Like a cat that stands on its tiptoes and fluffs out its fur in order to trick predators into thinking it's a lion.
Britney returned her attention to Tita, who was navigating around the coffee table and through the myriad of toys littering the room like an obstacle course. Just a couple of feet away from Britney, she stepped on a stuffed elephant and almost lost her footing. After regaining her balance, she continued to toddle, dark ringlets bouncing, finger still in mouth, paper crumpled in her fist.
"Is this for me?" Britney asked, feigning surprise.
Tita thrust the paper out. She unclenched her fist.
Britney caught the page before it fell to the floor. "Ooh, thank you so much," she cooed.
Tita grinned and held out her arms in the universal signal that she wanted to be picked up. They were nearly the same height, so Britney just plopped down on the carpet, pulling Tita into a snuggle. Tita leaned her head against Britney's shoulder, exchanged her forefinger for her thumb, and seemed to fall asleep.
One arm cradling Tita, Britney did her best to use the other hand to flatten the paper against the carpet. Sophie was still lounging on Colin's chair, one leg hooked over an arm. As Britney looked up, she could tell that Sophie looked away quickly, pretending to watch Vic play Mario Kart.
The page was from an activity coloring book. It was a game of Hangman. The clue was a slice of cake. The word should’ve been four letters, but Sophie had added four more, spelling out B-R-I-T-T-A-N-Y. Then she had filled out the stick "man" with all four limbs. She'd also filled in the face with two x's for eyes and a mouth that was just a tongue hanging out.
Britney couldn’t help but laugh. She looked up at Sophie, whose stoic glare had—just for a second—turned to shock. Maybe even relief.It was the expression of a twelve-year-old girl, not a jaded thirty-year-old woman, and it gave Britney hope.
(Original word count: ~500 → Edited: ~970)
Next to him, Tom — five, pudgy, khakis and a button-down like a tiny accountant — divided his attention between a picture book and the race on-screen.
There was Jay, sixteen, and far less surly than he had been three years ago, when he'd moved in. He sat at the coffee table next to Aura, helping her cheat on her homework.
Ten years ago, Aura had been Britney's first -- and best -- mistake. Parents weren't supposed to choose favorites, but Britney didn't really think of herself as a parent so much as a warden. Aura was special, and not in the sentimental way that most parents thought their kids were special. For one thing, Aura's birth mother was a mermaid, and for another, Aura had magical powers.
Colin, Britney’s biggest mistake at six feet tall, joined her in the doorway and kissed the top of her head — a long drop from his height to her three-foot-five.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands as he stepped into the den. “Who’s got their drawings ready?”
The weekly drawing contest had been Colin's idea, of course. They'd posted five picture frames between the two windows in the kitchen and the five winners got their drawings displayed there for the whole week."I do!" Tom carefully closed his picture book, set it aside, and then picked up the old leather portfolio that Colin had given him. Tom scrambled to his feet and ran over to Colin.
Colin's favorite chair, an over-sized tufted gray leather monstrosity was occupied by Tita, Jay's two-year-old sister. But Britney's small yellow chintz armchair was free, so Colin squatted down onto that, his knees jutting aggressively toward the coffee table. Colin accepted the old leather portfolio and bent over it as Tom earnestly explained each of his submissions.
Sophie, twelve years old with short dark hair, wearing a baggy but immaculate matching white sweatshirt and sweatpants, bent over Tita. Tita was chewing on her forefinger and listening to something Sophie was saying. Sophie handed Tita a piece of paper that looked like it had been torn out of a coloring book. Coloring book pages were eligible for the contest, but didn't score as high as original artwork.
Tita scooted and wriggled her way out of Colin's chair, landing on her butt. She righted herself on the floor, turned, spotted Britney, and started toddling over. She was still chewing on the finger of one hand, the other hand held the now crumpled page. Sophie, following Tita's progress with an indulgent smile, looked over, and spotted Britney. She looked embarrassed and then defiant. She folded her arms and plopped down into Colin's chair, glaring at Britney.
Sophie had only been with Britney for a couple of weeks and had the worst attitude of any of the kids Colin had brought home. The kids tended to be confused, shy, and anxious at first. Colin explained that the other kids had come directly from their family's homes to Britney's, whereas Sophie had been through several foster homes. Most kids had intrinsic trust in adults, but Sophie had learned to be wary, even aggressive. Like a cat that stands on its tiptoes and fluffs out its fur in order to trick predators into thinking it's a lion.
Britney returned her attention to Tita, who was navigating around the coffee table and through the myriad of toys littering the room like an obstacle course. Just a couple of feet away from Britney, she stepped on a stuffed elephant and almost lost her footing. After regaining her balance, she continued to toddle, dark ringlets bouncing, finger still in mouth, paper crumpled in her fist.
"Is this for me?" Britney asked, feigning surprise.
Tita thrust the paper out. She unclenched her fist.
Britney caught the page before it fell to the floor. "Ooh, thank you so much," she cooed.
Tita grinned and held out her arms in the universal signal that she wanted to be picked up. They were nearly the same height, so Britney just plopped down on the carpet, pulling Tita into a snuggle. Tita leaned her head against Britney's shoulder, exchanged her forefinger for her thumb, and seemed to fall asleep.
One arm cradling Tita, Britney did her best to use the other hand to flatten the paper against the carpet. Sophie was still lounging on Colin's chair, one leg hooked over an arm. As Britney looked up, she could tell that Sophie looked away quickly, pretending to watch Vic play Mario Kart.
The page was from an activity coloring book. It was a game of Hangman. The clue was a slice of cake. The word should’ve been four letters, but Sophie had added four more, spelling out B-R-I-T-T-A-N-Y. Then she had filled out the stick "man" with all four limbs. She'd also filled in the face with two x's for eyes and a mouth that was just a tongue hanging out.
Britney couldn’t help but laugh. She looked up at Sophie, whose stoic glare had—just for a second—turned to shock. Maybe even relief.
It was the expression of a twelve-year-old girl, not a jaded thirty-year-old woman, and it gave Britney hope.
(Original word count: ~500 → Edited: ~970)
Critique
The origin of the premise goes back to a friend I had on a message board who was a little person. She lamented how few fictional stories there are about little people, and I thought, I can fix that (nineteen years ago, lol). I started with the idea of a little person from our world meeting and interacting with storybook dwarves — half Disney, half Tolkien.
In the original excerpt, Verlee’s poem was an actual spell that worked, and Britney found herself in the dwarf world alone. The kids (and Colin) had to rescue her, and the story alternated between Britney and the rescue team.
So… if the whole idea behind the premise was to take a little person from our non-magical world and put her in a fantasy-like setting where dwarves are a separate race — why did I give her a daughter with magical powers?
To be fair to 2006 me, I never really fixed that. In the updated version, Britney adopts the baby with magical powers from a mermaid, which doesn’t exactly help with the “our world” issue. However, until Britney meets the mermaid, she believes they’re mythical — and it makes sense to her that a mermaid’s baby would be magical. (It turns out the baby just has psychic AI earrings, but that doesn’t come up until her own POV story.)
We have a pretty standard den — a TV, a kid playing video games, a window seat. It’s the bare minimum for a scene like this, but it gets the job done. There are flying papers and some crayons, which add a hint of life. The crayons hint at bright color, but otherwise, the space feels unanchored — like a room floating in space. There are no real colors, smells, or textures grounding it.
For my revision, I gave Britney and Colin their own favorite chairs and added a coffee table — still pretty bare bones, but not as floaty. The nice thing about realistic settings is that you can rely on reader experience to fill in the blanks, but I’ll refining the space in future drafts.
There are twelve kids in the room, but only four (five, if you count Vic) have action in the scene. The characters we meet are basic sketches: Tom is sturdy and earnest — a little too cute, maybe. Vic’s personality is “video games.” Verlee is creative, Sophie’s a bookworm. For my revision, I gave the kids unique looks: Sophie in her pristine oversized sweatshirt, Tita with her ringlets, Tom with his little Assistant Manager vibe. Vic finally got an outfit this time — on theme with his Mario obsession.
The biggest offender is Britney herself, who’s supposed to come from a non-magical world but somehow can see auras? I meant that as empathy — she could “read” emotions — but it doesn’t come through that way.
I realized that I originally wrote Britney as the kind of mom I thought I would be — so attuned to her kids’ emotions that she could keep them all happy and stable. I still don’t have kids, and don’t want them, partly because I’ve realized I don’t have that kind of intuition. Kids are fascinating, terrifying little mysteries I have no interest in solving. So, I took away Britney’s sixth sense and made her a little more bewildered about what to do with Sophie. I like that by the end of the scene, she feels a little more like she can be a foster parent to such an untrusting, troubled girl.
When I wrote the original version, I thought adding a thirteenth character was too much work. Turns out, like any good partner, Colin halves the burden. He focuses on the easy kids so that our POV character, Britney, can focus on Sophie.
The quickest way to get to know a group of characters is through their interactions. Colin with Tom; Jay with Aura; Sophie with Tita; then Tita with Britney, and finally a silent exchange between Sophie and Britney.
Struggling with this scene in 2006 taught me it’s best to introduce characters one at a time, so each gets their spotlight. Then, when you reach a group scene later, you’re not juggling introductions and action at the same time. It’s like writing your story on Hard Mode.
That said, I’m at almost double the word count of the original and have still only introduced half the kids. I’d never start another novel with a group scene of thirteen people, but if you have to, let the biggest personalities shine and be okay with the reader getting to know the quieter ones later.
In the original, there’s no conflict between the kids, so the only tension comes from Britney sensing who really wants to make it into the Top Five. But we’ve got a dozen kids in one room — and no one’s biting, crying, or shouting? Actually, that’s fine. There’s none of that in the revision, either.
The bigger issue is purpose. The scene’s meant to introduce the characters and show Britney’s dynamic with the kids — but doesn’t. Tom’s the only one who even looks her in the face. It’s also supposed to ground the fantastical story in realism, which sort of works, but only just.
In the rewrite, I made the main conflict between Sophie and Britney. Having Sophie use Tita as a messenger for her saucy note was not only inappropriate but perfect — it adds both conflict and character. When Britney laughs it off, it diffuses the immediate tension but leaves a subtle “this isn’t over” simmer beneath the surface. I like that. It promises more to come — that the emotional dynamics will matter just as much as the adventure itself.
Final Thoughts
I was unusually close to my mom — cough, codependent — and she was the most fascinating person I knew: funny, thoughtful, deeply philosophical. I thought it was strange that books for kids teach so much about relating to other kids, but not about relating to adults. Authority figures weren’t real people; they existed to praise or punish. So if I could pat my 2006 self on the back for anything, it would be combining two underexplored areas of literature: stories about little people, and stories for kids who have parents who are people, not archetypes.
The revised scene isn’t perfect — I still only addressed half of the kids — but it works so much better, and it’s revived my interest in this version of the story. Fortunately, Britney’s magical daughter has the ability to travel through the multiverse, so now she can visit this version of her mother.
No comments:
Post a Comment