“Don’t worry about me,” said Katherine.  “I’m going to be just fine.  Now go on home.  Let me have some peace and quiet.  You’ve been a huge help.  Thanks so much.”  She herded them down the stairs.  There were kisses all around at the back door, and she watched them pile into the car and wave as they drove off.
     Back in the kitchen she saw the kettle on the counter.  Too late for coffee now, she thought.  Opening the cupboards above, she saw the peanut butter, crackers, some tins and baking ingredients.  Another cupboard held the washed and dried glasses and dishes.  She took some boxes and plastic bags full of newspaper into the addition near the back door. 
     She straightened up the kitchen some more, and then arranged a placemat, plate, mug and knife ready for breakfast tomorrow morning.  Something inviting to look at her first morning. Welcome home, she whispered, then took one last look around the room before shutting off the light and going upstairs.
     In her bedroom she turned on the beside lamp, turned down the corner of her duvet, and found her pyjamas and burgundy slippers.  Because there was no curtain at the window, she went into a corner and turned her back while getting undressed, even though she knew there was no house close by.  The dark rectangular eye of the window was just too mysterious to stand in front of while naked.
     At the sink, washing her face and brushing her teeth to the rattle of the plumbing, she felt like she was in an old hotel room.  Everything was unusual, except for the familiar washcloth and towel.  What to do instead of that rosebud wallpaper? flashed through her mind.  On the heels of that annoyance flooded the well of contentment: this is my bathroom I can do what I want.
     As if floating on a cloud, Katherine approached her bed, thinking I am going to sleep in this house now.  My first night.  She got in bed and lay staring up at the slanted ceiling overhead.  She was aware of all the dark empty rooms in the rest of the house, and wondered how she would ever come to feel at home in them all.  Tonight she didn’t think she’d be capable of going into the bathroom before dawn, let alone any other room.  Her lamp cast a comforting pool of light on the familiar jumble of her possessions.  But her eyes drooped from tiredness and she reached over and turned out the light. 
     Around her was thick silence, broken by creaks and taps as the house seemed to settle down for the night.  Not a car passed, no door slammed, no cat cried in an alley.  The town sounds were missing.  She listened hard, trying to detect wind or rain or bird or any country sound.  She tucked her feet under a corner of the duvet and remembered not to let any part of her hang over the edge of the bed to tempt the invisible demons of childhood.  Then safe and snug under the eaves, she closed her eyes and was gone.

6 Comments

1. Eli James Says (on April 13th, 2007 at 1:26 am):
   

   Loved the description at the end of this part: the silence of an unfamiliar neighbourhood. Beautiful.

   PS: What to do instead of that rosebud wallpaper? flashed through her mind.

   How about putting ‘What to do …. wallpaper’ as italics?

2. Richard Says (on June 14th, 2007 at 12:30 pm):
   

   An intriguing first chapter! Katherine’s turning out to be quite an interesting, multi-faceted character.

   I think the most effective scenes so far have been the two of understated introspection–in 1.3 where she finds the case of beer in the fridge and again at the end of this post (as Eli points out) when she’s listening out for familiar sounds.

   I do have one question for you–structurally, I might have started with her moving into her new house (that is, at the start of 1.3) and would have dropped in the bits of information from 1.1 and 1.2 throughout the rest of the chapter. I’d largely do this so I could forefront the exposition of Katherine’s character.

   I was wondering why you chose to write it in a more linear fashion–the start of the first chapter seems deliberately measured.

   That’s just a personal stylistic question, by the way, not a criticism1

   I also enjoyed the way you confounded our expectations in 1.1. ‘Oh no!’ I thought, ‘Is this going to be a slushy romance?’ But twisting her love to be with a house is really quite sharp and raises a whole set of questions about Katherine’s character and past.

3. gloria Says (on June 15th, 2007 at 8:31 am):
   

   Thanks for your thoughtful comments, Richard. I’m interested that you think the best scenes so far have been the introspective ones. I’ve been thinking that they don’t work in the blog medium, which seems to draw readers when the scenes are very short and full of cliff-hanging action. This novel is not like that! As for your note about starting the novel with K. moving into the house, then I would lose the twist of having readers think this is a standard romance, only to have K’s passion be for a house. I do try to play with the romance genre a little in this novel. That’s why I describe it as a love triangle with a twist.

4. Richard Says (on June 16th, 2007 at 12:07 am):
   

   Gloria,

   While I think you have a point with blog fiction needing to be a bit ‘crash, bang, wallop’, I think that it can go too far. For instance, you left a comment on my current which really made me aware that I’d not given the story enough time to breathe.

   If done carefully, I think introspection can really help the pacing and character development. The thing I liked about the ‘beer and fridge’ scene was that it wasn’t static. I think that maybe it’s static scenes rather than introspective ones that are problematic. Hmm. Not sure: I’ll need to think about it some more,

   Richard

5. gloria Says (on June 16th, 2007 at 8:43 am):
   

   I feel the same way you do about introspective scenes. If balanced with action, they indeed should help with character development.

6. Lee Says (on July 31st, 2007 at 9:02 am):
   

   Introspection/action: same patterning in music; always useful to look at other art forms for structure and patterns.

   Be careful of clichés like ‘floating on a cloud’.

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