Joined: Jun 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 3 Location: Georgetown, Delaware, USA Karma: 0
Short Story Submission « Thread Started on Jul 2, 2009, 8:35am »
Hi,
I just wanted to post a short story, written a few years ago. The intent was to write an ultra short story (less than 1000 words), but I ran over a bit and expanded it a bit. It's not yet been published and I doubt it will be, because it is the opening scene of a novel that I'm working on. BTW, though fictionalsed, thid really happened in Quebec City thirty seven years ago.
The last meeting was finally over. For four days Timothy Marshall had been a virtual prisoner, albeit a pampered one, of the Hotel Frontenac. Now, late on a Friday, with the early fall afternoon fast fading, he had climbed into a horse-drawn carriage ordered for him by the Concierge. It was his one chance to see the Old City of Quebec before he departed for Washington on American Airlines' Saturday 'red eye' early the next morning.
He rode along, marvelling at the beauty of the old buildings. In the United States, they would have been long gone, replaced by faceless office blocks of mirrored glass. He was intrigued by the scene. The town was spotlessly clean and the people neat and smartly dressed. And the women! They were, young and old alike, rich and poor, dressed with a taste and elegance almost unknown in New York or Washington.
He thought of the return to the hotel, and he revolted at the thought of yet another dinner, no matter how excellent, there. He said to the driver, "Can you recommend a good, small local bar or restaurant where I can have dinner? It need not be fancy, but just a friendly place not often frequented by tourists. I'd like to see where a Quebecker goes for a nice evening out with friends."
The driver looked back at his passenger. He was a clean cut, educated sort, careful in his dress and well mannered. He thought for a moment and then said in English, with his distinctive French-Canadian accent, "I know of several such places. Would you prefer a place frequented by families, or by business people, or perhaps a place frequented by 'bien élèvees'; by educated people and students in the arts?"
He though for a moment. A family place might be all right. His gut rebelled at the thought of a place frequented by lawyers and bean counters, even in Quebec City. But a somewhat Bohemian place, full of intelligent people of broad interest... That was it! "I think I'd rather the place with the artist crowd!" he said.
The driver continued on for several blocks, and then he turned left, away from the view of the river and into a narrow street sloping upward, narrower even than normal in the Old City. Soon, he stopped the carriage in front of a small and very old brownstone building. The restaurant was in a half, or English basement. The sign out front said "Cafe-Bar Beaux Arts".
The driver turned to his passenger and said, smiling, "Here we are. It is quite a bit different from all the other restaurants, the ones frequented by tourists,. But the food and the bar are both very good, and it is always full of interesting people. I hope that you will enjoy it!"
Marshall paid his driver, giving him a generous tip as well. He then descended from the carriage and walked across the narrow street toward the two steps down to the door. "It certainly sounds lively enough!" he thought himself while crossing the street, as he heard the noises inside even through the closed door. He walked in, and, noticing that there was no waiter captain's station, he went to the bar.
He sat down there, his eyes still unaccustomed to the unusually dim light, especially near the bar, after leaving the fading but still bright daylight outside. This was not helped by the fact that some of the customers, chafing at being outnumbered by English speaking Canadians, felt like French expatriates in their native country and in reaction, affected very French tastes. The pungent smoke from numerous Gaulloise and Gitane cigarettes hung thick in the air.
A pretty young nun behind the bar, dressed in a brown habit and shawl, complete with a starched white wimple, approached him. She asked in French what he wanted, He had learned only a few words in French, and all of those only during the past few days. All of his meetings had been in English and all of the servers in the hotel had spoken English. He gave his answer in English. "I'd like a brandy and soda, please."
Instantly, he knew that he had made a mistake. As so often happens in old western movies when the 'bad guy' enters the noisy saloon, the entire place went silent. He sat there startled, and a bit afraid. Anglophones were apparently not welcome here, especially 'les crétins americaines', a term that he had heard spoken under the breath by several people since he had arrived on Monday afternoon.
He thought quickly, searching his mind for a diplomatic way out. It hit him! He said to the nun, "Perdóneme. Yo hablo Inglés y Español. Siento mucho que no hablo Francés."
The nun-barmaid smiled at him broadly, saying in perfect English, again with that lovely Quebec accent, "Brandy and soda? Would you not prefer, perhaps, to try a good Calvados instead, an apple brandy made here in Quebec?"
By this time, his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and to the smoke. He looked at the nun. It was only then that he realized that her habit, and those of the other 'nuns' serving in the estaminet were transparent! Blushing furiously, but almost unnoticed in the dark room, He answered, stammering a bit, "I think that's a fine idea! Oh, also, I would like to order dinner and perhaps some wine..."
There was a sudden laughter and then some a bit of talk at a large round table directly behind him. A slim and attractive woman in her thirties got up and came to him. She said in accented English, smiling, "We so seldom see strangers here. Would you like to join us at our table?" She took his arm and led him to her friends, saying to him "My name is Nicole Courbet, and this is..." as he acknowledged each with a greeting, then finally sitting next to the woman who had invited him.
As they walked toward the table, the normal chatter of the café had resumed, mostly in French. But the conversation at his table, and that addressed to him from surrounding tables was now in English. He had been welcomed into their company. He accepted their hospitality gratefully and with relief. Seeing this, they responded with friendship.
All evening, they dined and chatted together with the same 'joie de vivre' as the people at the other tables. He and Nicole danced often to the small band when they played, enjoying the music and the proximity of each other. She playfully taught him words of French as they danced and they talked, sitting close together, in ever more intimate conversation.
He looked out the airliner's window at the sun setting as he rode back to Washington on the Thursday evening Air Canada flight. Lost in thought, he reflected upon these wonderful days past, daydreaming pleasantly of the changes that were coming to his life He resolved that he would have to learn a bit of French before he returned to visit Nicóle next month. After all, it was only polite...
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #1 on Jul 6, 2009, 6:53pm »
This is great, Ed! I really like it Just one thing - when you introduce the nun it takes the reader by surprise but the protagonist doesn't seem surprised. We think where did this nun come from and why isn't he surprised?
Perhaps if you said something like "There was a 'nun' of all things behind the bar! She was dressed in a brown habit and shawl, complete with a starched white wimple!" My wording isn't the best, but I'm sure you'll get the idea.
Other than this, it's really good. The reader wants to know more!
Joined: Jun 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 3 Location: Georgetown, Delaware, USA Karma: 0
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #2 on Aug 5, 2009, 7:43pm »
Dear Fay,
It never occurred to me, as a callow young American, that a nun was odd. Tome, all of Quebec City was different, out of my normal experience. I had run across something similar when I was much younger yet. One of my relatives took us to a monastery or abbey somewhere in the middle of New York State where he food and locally made beer was served by monks, as a part of the way that they earned money for their order. So honestly, it never occurred to me that two nuns behind a bar In a distinctly old and odd restaurant was any more unusual than my already odd surroundings.
By the way, I finished the third novel ten days ago. It's one of the "Venture" series, now consisting of: Caribbean Ventures, The Andean Venture and The British Venture. This short story is a part of the beginning of number four, probably to be titled The Canadian Venture. I've got about 30K words done so far or about a quarter to a fifth done, with another based in Cuba and Belize in the planning. It will be a sequel to The Andean Venture.
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #3 on Aug 7, 2009, 4:02pm »
Hi Ed,
Yes, I'm familiar with monks making and selling alcoholic beverages in monasteries, but I'd never heard of nuns in bars! Maybe it's different in your part of the world.
Congratulations on completing your third novel Who's your publisher?
Joined: Jun 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 3 Location: Georgetown, Delaware, USA Karma: 0
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #4 on Aug 16, 2009, 8:08pm »
As Shakespeare said, I forget where, "Aye, there's the rub!" One book, Caribbean Ventures, is in the hands of a publisher right now, but I have no idea whether they'll take it. It's a small publisher in New York, but a totally independent one, quite eclectic, very nonconformist. I have given upon both large scale publishers and agents as they're seemingly always looking for "someone who writes just like"... I call that brain dead.
But I have not placed a book yet and I am beginning to think that I never will with a large house, especially, as what I write is individual, copying no current trends. It seems like publishers want thirty seven more books just like the last one that made big bucks. Unfortunately, that very copycat attitude, in my humble opinion, is why there are so many former publishers who are mere imprints of the remaining handful of larger houses. They ceased to exist because they lost their individuality, their very identity, their soul by stampeding with the herd.
Now, I make no claims to being a great author, but seeing what is on fiction bookshelves these days, all the imitative stuff, spin-offs and near-plagiarist rip-offs of the few decent quality hot best sellers, well, mine ain't too bad! Nosiree!
I despair sometimes, wondering if there is anyone left who would be willing to actually publish something which is individual, copying no-one, written in literate English. For that's how I write and I have no intention of either aping someone else or changing the quality of the English that I use, unless it is to do a better job all round as I perfect my skills. Nor will I make my characters into idiots, clowns, perverts or clones of someone else's to satisfy some ditsy intern at a large publisher who will maybe give a year of my work all of five minutes of her uneducated time before she throws it on the reject pile. Yes, I'd like to sell a book or two, as I could use the money. But not that badly.
Sorry to rant. But then I honestly believe that by the time I finallyget published many of the people at the "big" houses may well be as unemployed as I am in the book trade and a few of those houses will be mere imprints.
BTW, Book 4 (tentatively titled The Canadian Venture) is coming along at over 20,000 words so far and I am working on another short story. It keeps me happy, if not rich.
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #5 on Aug 17, 2009, 4:29pm »
Yep, it ain't easy! But as you say, writing is so enjoyable. And hopefully one day your book will land on the desk of an editor who falls in love with it.
I believe a lot of it depends on who the editor of the day happens to be and what he or she is looking for at that particular time. However, if we really want to get published, we need to research the markets, no matter how tedious this is, and aim our stories at a particular market. I'm sure you do this though, as I can see you work hard at your craft.
Anyway, Ed, don't give up. Read my section on "Rejections" if you ever feel down about it!
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Parkman, ME Karma: 0
Re: Short Story Submission « Reply #6 Yesterday at 7:40pm »
I thought that this story really gave a glimpse of another culture. It left me wanting to know more. However, I personally would have preferred more showing and less telling. An example of this would be when Marshall pays the cab driver. Instead of phrasing it as you did, you could write something like, "Marshall dug into his pocket, fingers grasping his weathered wallet. Withdrawing, he fingered the leather. A small smile tugged at his lips as he removed a fifty. Handing it to the cab driver, he winked. "Keep the change."
« Last Edit: Yesterday at 7:41pm by candibahamas »