Hi, Ann.
I have no objection to starting out with « Hello, my name is Emily. » If Herman Melville's Moby-Dick can start out with « Call me Ishmael. », why couldn't you let your narrator introduce herself ?
My advice would be to scratch out the « Hello », it sounds a little familiar. But it really depends on Emily's tone in the rest of the novel.
I would definitely make a whole paragraph out of « Hello, my name is Emily. I'm blind. I was born blind. »
Then, you skip a line and : « I've never seen the “pretty” sky. I've never seen a “handsome” face. I have only felt the things I have touched. I have a rough picture of what things look like, but I've never seen them so I wouldn't know. With blindness comes many problems. One of which is that I couldn't read this. Try to imagine being blind. You can't. You've seen the world; therefore you can't imagine not seeing it. »
It gives more punch to your first three sentences.
The part about what being blind felt like made me think of something I read in Helen Keller's story of my life :
« Lately she has been much interested in colour. She found the word "brown" in her primer and wanted to know its meaning. I told her that her hair was brown, and she asked, "Is brown very pretty?" After we had been all over the house, and I had told her the colour of everything she touched, she suggested that we go to the hen-houses and barns; but I told her she must wait until another day because I was very tired. We sat in the hammock; but there was no rest for the weary there. Helen was eager to know "more colour." I wonder if she has any vague idea of colour—any reminiscent impression of light and sound. It seems as if a child who could see and hear until her nineteenth month must retain some of her first impressions, though ever so faintly. Helen talks a great deal about things that she cannot know of through the sense of touch. She asks many questions about the sky, day and night, the ocean and mountains. She likes to have me tell her what I see in pictures.
But I seem to have lost the thread of my discourse. "What colour is think?" was one of the restful questions she asked, as we swung to and fro in the hammock. I told her that when we are happy our thoughts are bright, and when we are naughty they are sad. Quick as a flash she said, "My think is white, Viney's think is black." You see, she had an idea that the colour of our thoughts matched that of our skin. »
We can't imagine how much of our experience is only possible because we aren't blind.
I liked that you didn't make Emily sound too pathetic, that you didn't go into too much details about all she can't see, moving on instead to your little puppet show of emotions.
It was nicely done but that's only an incipit. Not much happen. I'm curious about the rest of your novel.
Nice work, Ann. Good luck.
Points: 144
Reviews: 126
Donate