Scene Critique -Transition

[Sarah Hoven]

Hi everyone! This is part of the second scene of my WIP. I have been told that the part in brackets is abrupt and unrealistic, but I’m not quite sure how to change it. Help!

Catrìona ran up the steps of Màiri’s cottage and knocked on the weathered wooden door. The patch of violets and ferns beneath the front window glowed in the spring sunshine, and Catrìona made a mental note to water them. She opened the door and slipped inside. As usual, Màiri was knitting in her rocking chair by the fireplace as Fidélité the cat watched her from the windowsill. Catrìona took her shoes off on the grass mat by the door. “Hi, Aunt Màiri.”
Màiri didn’t look up. “I’m going to market to buy supper. Are you coming?”
“No thank you.” She sat down in her own chair opposite Màiri. Tension from last night’s argument strangled further attempts at conversation, and the minutes dragged by in miserable silence. Catrìona was just working up the courage to follow Andy’s advice when Màiri spoke abruptly. “How are your French studies coming?”
Surprised, Catrìona forced her scattered thoughts to redirect. “Very well, I think. I’m having trouble with some of the verb tenses, but other than that…I can speak it pretty well.”
“I’m going to arrange for you to spend a couple years in France.” Màiri’s voice was emotionless, mechanical. “Father Ambrose recommended a girl’s school at a convent in La Rochelle. The next ship bound for La Rochelle leaves Glasgow in five weeks.”
Tears stung Catrìona’s eyes as she realized how angry Màiri was with her. “Aunt Màiri, you don’t understand. I-”
“Don’t I?” Màiri looked up sharply. “When a girl like you grows up climbing trees and hunting with the village boys, is it any wonder that you want to go off to war with them? I should never have brought you here. You need to be around other girls.”
“Aunt Màiri, God told me to fight! I can’t help it. I know it’s not proper, and I don’t know why He called me. But I have to go.”
Màiri stopped rocking. “What?”
Catrìona took a deep breath, searching for the right words. The relationship she had with God was very different from anything taught by the Catholic Church. “When I was six or seven, the Lord appeared to me and told me He wanted me to fight for our country. For our freedom. He said that other people wouldn’t understand, but that He would help me. I can’t disobey Him, Aunt Màiri. I must go. Please don’t send me away.”
The color drained from Màiri’s face as she listened, and she looked Catrìona in the eye. “Don’t lie to me, Catrìona Braidfute. It’s not a light thing that you speak of. You know how the Church deals with sacrilege.”
Catrìona shuddered, remembering the terrifying rumors about the Inquisition. “Aunt Màiri, I would never lie about that. You know I fear God.”
Incredulity still tinged Màiri’s voice. “You hid this from me for ten years? Why?”
Catrìona twisted her fingers nervously. Please let her believe me, God! “I was afraid you would tell Father Ambrose.”
“I probably would have.” Màiri fell silent, and the minutes ticked by painfully. Then she whispered, “When you were only a year old, your mother put you in my care. I promised her that I would defend you with my life. Child, there are people out there who would kill you if they knew your ancestry. How can I just let you go?”
“What about my ancestry? What are you talking about, Aunt Màiri?”
Màiri shook her head. “Your mother made me promise not to tell anyone, including you. I am serious, Catrìona; your life would be in danger if anyone found out. [[Just…don’t get yourself killed, okay?”
Catrìona wondered if she had heard correctly. “I may go?”
Màiri nodded wordlessly, and put down the half-knitted sock.]] “I’m going to market now.” Her voice was thick with suppressed tears. “I’ll be back later.”
Catrìona watched her leave. She fingered the delicate gold cross she wore. According to Aunt Màiri, her father had given it to her mother at their wedding. “Oh Lord,” she whispered, “please help Aunt Màiri, and please help me to find out who I am.”

[Hope Ann]

The little part in brackets towards the end is what you are asking about, right? Well, here’s my opinion for whatever it’s worth.

That part does sound a little clique. From what I see of Mairi’s character, I think her permission should be a little more reluctant. You wrote Your mother made me promise not to tell anyone, including you. I am serious, Catrìona; your life would be in danger if anyone found out. and then, instead of the ‘don’t get yourself killed’ you could write something like ‘apparently your life is going to be in danger anyway now.’ And then maybe Catriona stares at her and slowly realizes that that is permission to fight. Perhaps add a little more thought there and stretch out the scene longer since it seems to be important.

INTJ - Inhumane. No-feelings. Terrible. Judgment and doom on everyone.

[Sarah Hoven]

Thanks, Hope! Yes, I was specifically asking about that part, but if you see any other problems, please tell me. This is my first story, and I am sure it has many flaws. 🙂

[Daeus]

For the brackets section, as the reader, I want to know why Mairi is acting out of character. The reason must be at least hinted at.

🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢

[Author]

Posts