So, they work both as drabbles and as parts of the broader picture? Gorgeous, that is.

Thanks, all. Very kind of you.

Of course, I am mortified that I had to go back in and edit the typo in my favorite author's name! That's the trouble with cut & paste, you propagate your errors much easier that way.

Also, Allyson, I really like deb's idea of integrating shorter bits like the drabbles in your book. You could use them to give splashes of color and hints at things you can't go into further. I can definitely picture sidebar excerpts and pieces alongside your essays in that sort of a compilation. I think it would work well for the reader and for the flow of your whole entity.

For this week, I decided to interview my two sets of lead characters and ask them what first times came to mind. James and Lucy's are both well before their story's action, Jack's is within the story, and Anna's is part of an epilogue that'll never be written:
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Lucy, 1801 – Pony

Lucy loves her cousin Sebastian more than anyone else at Swallowfield, but today for the first time she thinks he is lying to her. The pony Ariel is not her friend. Horses are not friends. They are great noisy dangerous beasts that trample tiny girls who are careless and run into the street.

But she is too scared to run away, so Sebastian lifts her unresisting onto the sidesaddle and shows her where to place her hands and feet. The groom leads the pony in a slow circle around the stable yard while Sebastian walks at her side ready to catch her should she fall. She feels the pony quiver with life beneath her, and when she sees how far the ground is, she laughs. She is exhilarated, not frightened.

James, 1805 – Brothel

Oh, she is beautiful with the glossy golden-brown hair flowing loose to her hips and the sweet rosy curves more revealed than concealed by such a thin gown. And the soft, rosy-cheeked purity of her face, so innocent-looking and maybe she really is a virgin.

She looks up with gray terror-filled eyes. Holy God, she’s a child, a well-grown child, but with a face like that can’t be a day over thirteen. He never should’ve come here, should’ve known any place Percy Barrett recommended could only be a house of abominations.

There’s only one thing to do. He’s taking her out of here and finding her a safe place and honest work if they have to climb out the window to do it.

For the first time in his life, James refuses a woman.

Jack, April 1812 – Amputee

On the second try, he manages to shrug into the shirt. Next, the buttons. He bites his lip and tries to hold the shirt in place with the stump of his left arm while he fumbles to wed button and buttonhole with his good right hand.

“Let me help you,” Dan says.

“No.”

“Jack. Let him. All your life you will have friends to help you.”

“No, Maria. If there’s ever no one there, do you expect me to go naked all day? I’ll do this. I’ll figure it out.”

It takes him five minutes, but he manages. Next, trousers.

Anna, November 1812 – Fried Eggs

Mrs. Wilcox never would’ve imagined that anyone could be afraid of an egg. But it was Anna’s first time. Earl’s granddaughters didn’t get cookery lessons as little girls. What a daughter-in-law for a woman like her, but if she made Jack happy…

“You don’t have to do this, you know. You could hire a cook.”

“No. If I try, and cannot learn, perhaps then. But we agreed to try to meet in the middle. I made my choice, and I don’t intend to hire a full staff.”

“You’ve got pluck, dearie, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you. Now, how do I break this egg?”

(Over a hundred words, but I can't edit, I've gotta sleep.)

Holiday World

The joy of slides and bouncing balls is forgotten. He turns his back sullenly to his impatient aunt; he doesn't want her to see his face, screwed up with the effort.

His sister has tried to help, "He doesn't quite do it yet. He needs help." But it is too late. He cannot ask for help now. His aunt has presented him with his shoes, and he must soldier on alone.

A loop, around, but then it slips again. He growls with frustration, and pushes away her fumbling adult hands. She says, "Look, I'll just guide you," but he can't abide it, and she can't wait forever.

Then, miracle of miracles, there it is. Not quite even, and who knows how long it will last, but there it is. His aunt doesn't even understand the achievement. When she tells his mother later, she'll be shocked. "He did it? He tied his shoes?" And he did.

Writing energy is just crackling in here. Miss you all. I'm on (very) slow dialup at MIL's so essentially just waving. Beautiful beautiful drabbles, all.

I love them all, such amazing bits and pieces of color and life. Great drabbles.

First time drabble

The hall smells stale, like rotting pb&j and moldy notebooks. And that carpet, god! Did every school in America buy that same dingy orange to soak up whatever spilled or splattered or bled into it?

Oh gross. Don't think about it.

My shoulder is going numb from the weight of the bag slung over my arm, and it is every Monday I have ever slunk reluctant through school doors at 7AM. Every Monday spent walking the halls, waiting for class to start. Every Monday, except this Monday is the first.

My key, newly minted, scrapes into the classroom door.

Oh, those are gorgeous!

Susan, can I make one editing suggestion? In the first drabble, can I suggest a phrase swap, for a punchier ending?

Right now, you've got it as:

She feels the pony quiver with life beneath her, and when she sees how far the ground is, she is exhilarated, not frightened. She laughs.

Just my take, but I kept wanting to read this as:

She feels the pony quiver with life beneath her, and when she sees how far the ground is, she laughs. She is exhilarated, not frightened.

deb, I like that. Edited. And I should really remember to post these on the LJ, too.

Susan, thanks - it was the mentally wanting to flop the action (her laughter) for the feeling (her exhilaration), which in some way, I guess, is a sense of cause followed by effect, rather than vice versa.

edit: boy, was that not clear. Just that, for good dramatic effect, inverting the usual logic generally seems to me to work more effectively: the author shows the action, the reader goes whuzzah and takes ten seconds to react him or herself, and then author gives the reader the why of it.

I like writing. It's good.