Hi everyone. Sorry this post is long. Im doing an informal research/survey to find out: when reading a love story, do romance readers like it more if the author expressly tells them what the main character is thinking and feeling, versus leaving the readers to figure it out? Below are two excerpts. Would appreciate your thoughts and opinions on which one you really prefer and why. Please note that my question is not which excerpt is better written, but rather, which one is the kind that really gets you excited? To get into the characters mind and know expressly all his thoughts and feelings, or to read a description of what he might be thinking and feeling? Thanks in advance. EXCERPT 1: Meanwhile, in New York, Terrence was getting out from visiting Suzanna Marlowe, who was happy to see him. He found himself wishing that the six months in England would make her forget him, especially now that she spent time writing a play and overall being more independent. However, Susanna, as usual, waited patiently for Terrences return. How I wish she did not. He thought to himself. She is starting to have success as a playwright. She is spending less time with me. Why... No, I cant abandon her one other time. I promised the woman I love... I would disappoint Candy. But I just cant stand this situation. How much longer will I be able to bear it? EXCERPT 2: Meanwhile, in New York, Terrence was getting out from visiting Suzanne Marlowe. Earlier when he arrived at her apartment to visit her, he could see her face light up just from the sight of him. In her wheelchair, she insisted on making tea for him, even though he offered to brew the tea himself. While she was in the kitchen, he noticed that she had been working on her manuscripts. The draft papers were scattered loosely on the desk and several books were laid open. He walked over to the desk and looked at her script. Act III already. If she had told him that she was this far along into her work, he would have rescheduled his visit for another day so to not to interrupt her concentration. Hed been gone to England for six months. Another few days wouldnt have mattered and she couldve focused and finished her work. But instead, the minute he walked into the apartment, she dropped everything just to make tea for him. Clutching the script in his hand, the skin of his face tightened, and he put the script back down on her desk. She returned to the living room with the tea. Here, let me help you with that, he said, and took the tray from her and laid it onto the coffee table. On the tray were a pot of tea, two teacups with some biscuits. I baked the biscuits myself as soon as you sent words that you were coming, she said. Wheeling herself to the windowsill, she picked up a pot of plant to show him. Look at this geranium. I planted it right after your departure to England. Its growing nicely now. He looked at the plant, swallowed hard and frowned. Yes, very nice, he said, looking away from the plant to change the subject. Hey, youre making good progress on your manuscript there. Its coming along, she said. When will you be able to come by again? Maybe you can come tomorrow and read it? Give me a critique? Tomorrow...he felt his mouth becoming dry and his chest felt constricted. He picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. Before he put down the tea cup, he looked into it and suddenly, he saw the image of Candy reflected in the tea. Memories of his visit to Ponys Hill one winter day, a long time ago, flashed across his mind. The kind ladies there had offered him a cup of hot tea. Afterwards, he went to the top of Ponys Hill and took in the beautiful, serene view of the place where she grew up. It was snowing harder and harder. He thought of the beauty of that day and the snow. Snow. Memories of that night on the rooftop of the hospital now came to his mind. It was snowing that night too. A lot of snow. Be strong, Suzanna. Thats how you can make Terry and me happy. He remembered overhearing Candy say to Suzanna while he was standing outside of the hospital room. How disappointed she was when he didnt live up to his commitment to Suzannah. In Rockstown, he saw Candys tears. It might have been only his imagination. But deep down, he knew. That would be Candys reaction. Of course Ill come tomorrow, he said, feeling a wave of nausea rising from his gut. As he closed the apartment door behind him, he let out a breath of relief and walked toward the elevator down the hallway. The lights of the commons area seemed usually dim to him today. Even the corridor felt unusually long. It felt like the length to reach the elevator was endless. He could keep on walking and never reach it.
Posted on: Tue, 09 Dec 2014 15:25:49 +0000
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