23 June 2021
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A reader's novel opening goes under the editorial microscope
Read our suggested rewrite of a reader's first 300 words and for the full critique, see the August issue of Writing Magazine.
A Woman of Fortitude, by Eric Olsen - original version
In a final endeavour, Edwina’s finger tracked the seven hundred names on a list of survivors. Albert Claridge was not among them.
She sat back in the squeaky leather armchair. “I’m a widow,” she whispered to herself.
Her dry eyes stared unfocused at the crystal chandelier in the White Star Lines office. Had she ever loved her husband? Honestly?
Edwina couldn’t deny the comfort his money allowed. One becomes accustomed to the finer things, she reflected.
Still, after all these years, the image of Albert’s cousin remained imprinted in her memory. Fresh from Wimbledon House school, she had returned the dark-haired army subaltern’s smile across the drawing-room. She’d kissed him behind the clematis at the corner of the house and made him blush. Since then, all other men paled in comparison. Maybe that was love.
Sub-lieutenant Lyon had received orders to join Lord Chelmsford’s forces in Natal the following week. Was her father’s influence among the members of his Piccadilly club behind that posting? Of course, he would never admit his interference, but it tarnished her filial affection.
“Would Mrs Claridge care for some tea?” asked a white-gloved attendant.
Edwina forced a smile and shook her head.
She recalled another survivor list from more than three decades ago. The news of the Isandlwana blood-bath had shocked the nation. Her tears had spattered among the names of a few who escaped the assegais.
Fuelled by Albert’s wealth, The Honourable Mr Smith made his opinion clear;
“He comes from a family of impeccable pedigree. You’ll have a good life with Albert.”
Her mother’s view: “The clock is ticking, my dear,” counselled clear.
She shuddered. Albert had shown his disappointment at her refusal to accompany him. Had she agreed, The Titanic would have orphaned their sons, James and Thomas.
A Woman of Fortitude - McCredited version
Edwina’s finger tracked the seven hundred-name survivor list in a final endeavour. Men. Women. Children. Their names were a blur as she sought the familiar grouping of letters, But Albert Claridge was not among them.
The leather creaked as she sat back in the armchair: a widow.
Her dry eyes stared unfocused at the crystal chandelier in the White Star Lines office. Had she ever loved her husband? Honestly?
Muffled sobs and placatory sounds came from a neighbouring room. Another widow? A double-thump and a call for water. She’s fainted, then. Was that what love looked like? Was that genuine grief?
“Would Mrs Claridge care for some tea?” asked a white-gloved attendant.
Edwina forced a smile and shook her head. The young man seemed as keen to avoid contact as she was and left the room without a sound.
Alone, she listened to the mantel clock and the obscure drama in the other room. Albert had shown his disappointment at her refusal to accompany him. Had she agreed, her name could have been among the seven hundred names. The Titanic would have orphaned their sons James and Thomas.