The Cry of Mademoiselle Plesseraud

060 Salt -- The Salt Merchant

[There's no real aspect of fantasy in this section (the first of five), but there shall be later. Comments very much appreciated.]

Danielle’s village had always been a small quiet paradise with fields of tulips stretching far to the east; to the west, old willows, tall as mountains, swayed and whispered with the breezes. Sometimes, if the wind was right, she could smell the sea salt from her home. The nearest fishing village, St. Abbes, was a day’s journey north. She hated her father’s merchant trips to that town with a load of beets hauled by their two old mares. When she was younger, her father would make her walk alongside him to and from the village, even if her feet hurt and he had to carry her. He told her that the weight from the fish, salt and other goods they bought back was already too much for their tired horses.
When she was seventeen, her father came down with a horrible fever. Their estate fell into decay almost instantly. The servants and field workers left soon after and the most important guests moved on to more exciting venues. Her mother was dead and her father was in grave health, so she was sent in his place to St. Abbes. With their farmland too dried out to grow crops, she brought no more beets to sell. Her father hardly needed the extra money, so the process was done away with. Being the miser that he was, Danielle was given enough money to buy only what little fish and salt they needed. She bartered well, pocketing the few extra coins she earned in savings.
One morning on the way to the St. Abbes, she realized she had enough saved up to purchase something of her own. Many in the town noticed her steps had a little more bounce to them, and some thought that maybe her father had finally died, freeing her to take over the estate and control whatever money he owned. The looks she received were mixed. The bitter ones came from other girls or old wretches. The friendlier looks came from some of the poorest mothers who were interested in her as a prospect for their sons. She was nearly eighteen now; Danielle’s father had kept any thought of a suitor from her mind. Without her mother’s influence, he had been quite content to raise her as he wished, and some young man hovering over his bed ready to acquire all of his property didn’t excite him. Even the thought of his money going to Danielle was painful.
Danielle’s first stop was the salt merchant. His outdoor shop was located close to the shore, a short distance from the bumbling inner workings of the town. Visits to the salt merchant were much more pleasant than the fish market, which reeked horribly of not only fish, but of the odor the customers as well as the merchants gave off.
“Good morning, Mademoiselle Plesseraud. I’ve heard a rumor that your dear father has passed on. I wanted to verify this news first hand. If it is indeed true, I offer my regrets.”
“Monsieur, might I inquire where you heard such a terrible thing? My father is most certainly alive and is doing quite well. Why, I saw him just before I left.”
Upon hearing this news the salt merchant nodded, a pensive look on his face. “I must have been misinformed then, mademoiselle. It was indeed a rumor as I had suspected. Thank you for shedding light on the situation.”
Prompted by the merchant, Danielle moved to oversee the order being placed in her cart. She noticed he hadn’t given her a clue as to who had told him, a smart move on his part. There was little she could have done but been tortured by the idea of a confrontation that would have never taken place.
She tried to bargain with the salt merchant, saving no more than on previous transactions. The merchant had been wise to her ways, well practiced in the art of business, and so they had both settled on a slightly below average price. Danielle suspected the salt merchant had only accepted due to her beauty.
The salt merchant had sensed as much. He would give her no further favors this day or any other.
Danielle found the merchant again, trailing him to each of his stores.
Nervous, the salt merchant asked, “Mademoiselle Plesseraud, what exactly do you do with the few extra coins you save from me and the other merchants?”
“I have done nothing as of yet, saving a bit here or there. One day I shall buy something pretty for myself. Perhaps a dress.”
“With one already so pretty as the one you now don?” he smiled falsely. “No other dress would do it justice.”
Danielle blushed and swished the bottom of the yellow dress. “Please, monsieur, you embarrass me. This old thing was my mother’s which I happened to save from the hands of my father. He sold all her others and only let me keep this one because it was partially eaten by moths.”
“I see. I suspect you’ll find yourself another twice as beautiful, then. As for now, I must get back to work.” The salt merchant quickly forced himself on another customer. Danielle left the encounter dreaming of exotic silks and golden embroideries.

this is a completely useless crit but I really liked it!!

-Max

Hey! My crit key is as follows:
Red = comments
Bold = Words I've inserted that I think work better
Blue = If I don't feel like using red
Let's do this thing!

Trident wrote:060 Salt -- The Salt Merchant

[There's no real aspect of fantasy in this section (the first of five), but there shall be later. Comments very much appreciated.]

Danielle’s village had always been a small quiet paradise with fields of tulips stretching far to the east; to the west, old willows, tall as mountains, swayed and whispered with the breezes Okay, first off, too much info in the first sentence. Break up your ideas. I got confused after the semicolon . Sometimes, if the wind was right, she could smell the sea salt from her home. The nearest fishing village, St. Abbes, was a day’s journey north. She hated her father’s merchant trips to that town with a load of beets hauled by their two old mares. When she was younger, her father would make her walk alongside him to and from the village, [s]even if her feet hurt and he had to carry her[/s]. He told her that the weight from the fish, salt and other goods they bought back was already too much for their tired horses. Tell us a bit more of how she felt about this
When she was seventeen, her father came down with a horrible fever. Their estate fell into decay almost instantly. The servants and field workers left soon after and the most important guests moved on to more exciting venues. Her mother was dead and her father was in grave health, so she was sent in his place to St. Abbes. With their farmland too dried out to grow crops, she brought no more beets to sell. Her father hardly needed the extra money, so the process was done away with. Being the miser that he was, he gave Danielle [s]was given [/s]enough money to buy only what little fish and salt they needed. She bartered well, pocketing the few extra coins she earned in savings.
One morning on the way to the St. Abbes, she realized she had enough saved up to purchase something of her own. Many in the town noticed her steps had a little more bounce to them, and some thought that maybe her father had finally died, freeing her to take over the estate and control whatever money he owned. The looks she received were mixed. The bitter ones came from other girls or old wretches. The friendlier looks came from some of the poorest mothers who were interested in her as a prospect for their sons. She was nearly eighteen now; Danielle’s father had kept any thought of a suitor from her mind. Without her mother’s influence, he had been quite content to raise her as he wished, and some young man hovering over his bed ready to acquire all of his property didn’t excite him. Even the thought of his money going to Danielle was painful.
Danielle’s first stop was the salt merchant. His outdoor shop was located close to the shore, a short distance from the bumbling inner workings of the town. Visits to the salt merchant were much more pleasant than the fish market, which reeked horribly of not only fish, but of the odor the customers Insert comma as well as the merchants Insert comma gave off.
“Good morning, Mademoiselle Plesseraud. I’ve heard a rumor that your dear father has passed on. I wanted to verify this news first hand. If it is indeed true, I offer my regrets.”
“Monsieur, might I inquire where you heard such a terrible thing? My father is most certainly alive and is doing quite well. Why, I saw him just before I left.”
Upon hearing this news the salt merchant nodded, a pensive look on his face. “I must have been misinformed then, mademoiselle. It was indeed a rumor as I had suspected. Thank you for shedding light on the situation.” Shouldn't she be a bit more surprised and upset than this? I'm having trouble really understanding the way she feels about her father.
Prompted by the merchant, Danielle moved to oversee the order being placed in her cart. She noticed he hadn’t given her a clue as to who had told him, a smart move on his part. There was little she could have done but been tortured by the idea of a confrontation that would have never taken place.
She tried to bargain with the salt merchant, saving no more than on previous transactions. The merchant had been wise to her ways, well practiced in the art of business, and so they had both settled on a slightly below average price. Danielle suspected the salt merchant had only accepted due to her beauty.
The salt merchant had sensed as much. He would give her no further favors this day or any other.
Danielle found the merchant again, trailing him to each of his stores.
Nervous, the salt merchant asked, “Mademoiselle Plesseraud, what exactly do you do with the few extra coins you save from me and the other merchants?”
“I have done nothing as of yet, saving a bit here or there. One day I shall buy something pretty for myself. Perhaps a dress.”
“With one already so pretty as the one you now [s]d[/s]on?” he smiled falsely. “No other dress would do it justice.”
Danielle blushed and swished the bottom of the yellow dress. “Please, monsieur, you embarrass me. This old thing was my mother’s which I happened to save from the hands of my father. He sold all her others and only let me keep this one because it was partially eaten by moths.”
“I see. I suspect you’ll find yourself another twice as beautiful, then. As for now, I must get back to work.” The salt merchant quickly forced himself on another customer. Danielle left the encounter dreaming of exotic silks and golden embroideries.

Interesting plot line so far. Here's my overall critique:

The Goodness:

Great Descriptions (I liked the one about the smell of the beach)

I like your dialogue (the way you don't need to put who says what)

Stuff that could use a bit of work:

Commas please: You're missing commas. I tried to pick out a few, but I missed a lot, so try and go back over it and see if you can tell where you should put some.

Who is she?: I'm having trouble discerning your character motives and general persona. She seems like a dutiful daughter, going to the store, doing the bartering for her father. But she felt a bit could. I would like to see you reveal a bit more of her emotions on the part of how she feels when people think her father is dead. She should be a bit more surprised than just saying "I'll beat up whoever told you that". Show us her shock, show us if she is upset at even thinking that her father would pass. She also seems toward the end as a bit vain. I love character flaws, so vanity for her is something that you should expose a bit more about her. I would like to see you expand on her thinking a bit more about the way she dresses, the way she looks etc. Also, if she's vain she would think of suitors. Just try and figure out exactly who your MC is.

Is that necessary: Be sure to cut out any details that are unnecessary. The part in the beginning about her walking with her father felt a little out of place. Just make sure you aren't giving the readers too much unneeded information (especially with her dialogue with the fish merchant. Some of it felt like we didn't need it to move the plot along all that much. Think about what is important and see if the rest belongs.

Other than that, good job! Good luck with the contest! I hope this helps. PM me if you have any questions!

[Many thanks for the comments. Next section.]

059 Blue -- Looking Through the Window


Upon leaving the salt merchant, Danielle hadn’t expected her whims to turn to a concrete purchase. Indeed, she had planned on saving for much longer, spending money on nothing she would not need. It was only on her way to the fisher’s market that the urge to pass the dressmaker’s was too much and she came to its decorated panes. The dress she saw, lit by a lantern, had a miraculous effect on her. Was it not the same dress her mother had owned? Was it not the same one she donned right now in the streets?
And yet, it wasn’t. For this dress was the palest shade of blue she had ever seen and her dress was a stained yellow. The color was the only thing that seemed to differ. The frilled neckline, the puffed sleeves, and even the flowered pattern--a series of alternating tulips--all were precisely the same as her own. The excitement built up in her was too much for her to ignore. She was glowing as she entered the dressmaker’s shop.
“My dear, can I help you?” an scratchy voice quivered from a corner.
“Yes, Madame, you can.”
A gnarled old woman, her gray hair in a bun, appeared from the darkness with her hands held together. She squinted as she approached. “Do I know you, my dear?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never entered this shop before.”
“But you look so familiar.” The old woman came closer to Danielle and looked into her face. “So familiar.”
“I have been to St. Abbes many times before with my father. Perhaps you have seen me around the town.”
“No, no,” the old woman said. “I’ve not left my shop in over twenty years. You are much too young for a chance spotting.”
Her eyes searched Danielle’s body. “This dress! This dress is mine!”
“Yours? Madame, this dress was my mother’s--”
“It’s not my dress,” she said frustrated. “I made it.”
“Yes. I looked through your window there and saw one just like it. I was wondering how such a thing could be.”
“Don’t be a fool now, dear. I made it, of course. And I recognize you now. Or your mother rather.”
“You knew her, then? Well?”
“A beautiful woman. Yes, I knew her well.”
“I’m uncertain what to say,” Danielle professed. “I have so many questions.”
“Questions,” the old woman began, “lead only to more questions. And yet lately, I have had time for nothing but. Life is but one giant question.”
Danielle nodded at what she considered the wisdom of old age. She thought maybe she might ponder the words later as she was traveling home.
“Did you make this dress for her?”
“Yes, and others. She was a loyal patron of mine. There are few left these days.”
“What else do you know of my mother?”
“She was gracious. And quite clever. She was a swift negotiator, I recall. Other than that, our visits consisted of little more than tailoring.”
“Surely she conversed with you during the sessions.”
“I’m sure she did, but I am an old woman. Whatever was said during those meetings has been long forgotten. I’m afraid I have not much else to offer.”
Danielle’s face lost all joy. She struggled to say something and ended up inquiring about the blue dress.
“The dress? Yes, I see why you might want it. It is strikingly similar to the one you now wear. Yes, I’d say it’s nearly identical, save for the color.”
The old woman took the dress from the window and fitted it to Danielle. She told her everything she could remember about her mother. During the fitting, it was to the dressmaker’s surprise that no alterations had to be made. It was as if the dress had always been for Danielle to wear.
The price the old woman suggested was nearly double any sane person was likely to pay, yet Danielle felt pity for the struggling dressmaker. She gladly paid it, happy for the dress and the scraps about her mother. She even offered her a few coins more, which the old woman rejected. “I simply could not accept more.”
“Please, take it,” Danielle pleaded.
“There is no possible way. Your mother would not allow it.”
Danielle smiled, pocketing the coins. “I cannot stay much longer. My father is sick and I must get back to him. I thank you greatly for everything.” On the way out, Danielle quietly placed the coins on the old dressmaker’s counter.