mmerriam | Making the Words Work

Every scene needs to carry its weight. Even in a novel, where you have more room to run than in a short story, every scene needs to work for its existence. Some scenes might not appear to be doing anything on the surface, but really do move the plot and story forward.

Snippet three from Last Car to Annwn Station looks like a normal conversation over lunch between two people. And it is. It also moves the story along by showing the reader a deeper glimpse into Jill’s personality, how Mae reacts to that personality, and how the two interact. We get some concrete information that develops both characters, and we move the “C” plot of the novel (Mae and Jill’s budding romantic relationship) along.

Two hours and a short walk filled with awkward silence later, Mae found herself fidgeting in a chair, sipping her cup of tea and poking at her Cobb salad. Mae looked around the small Irish-style pub. It was a sparse lunch crowd, only a handful of other customers scattered about the tables. Jill gave her a measuring look.

“Anything wrong?” Jill asked.

“It just seems too—empty, I suppose.”

Jill shrugged and turned back to her bangers and mash. “It’s probably the weather,” she said, attacking her food with reckless gusto. Jill’s aggressive eating style always surprised Mae, who had spent most of lunch pushing her food around on her plate, too nervous to eat. “Mae, can I ask you a personal question?”

Mae bit her bottom lip and nudged her lettuce with the fork. “Sure, I guess.”

“What are you scared of?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that, well, you’re smart, and you’re good at what you do. You’re liked and respected around the office—”

“But?”

“Do you know most of the guys in the office think you’re a lesbian?”

Mae raised an eyebrow. While they had never talked specifically about sex, Mae was pretty sure Jill knew. “I am.”

Jill shrugged. “I know. I’m just telling you what the office gossip is. Apparently you’ve never shown any interest in their clumsy attempts to flirt or their cheesy pick-up lines.”

Mae closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “Back up. There was flirting and pick-up lines? When?” she said, opening her eyes.

Jill laughed softly and turned to her food for a minute, chasing onion-sauce-covered mashed potatoes around, and occasionally off, her plate with her fork. Mae took the opportunity to take a real bite of her food. It was a good salad, but nothing special.

“I’m serious!” Jill said after she swallowed her food. Her face took on a sly smile. “Are you seeing anyone you haven’t told me about?”

Mae nearly choked on her salad.

“I’m sorry,” Jill said, raising both of her hands in supplication. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“Jill, we’ve been friends for over a year. You’re allowed to ask a personal question. You just caught me by surprise. That’s more of a pre-date question, really, and no, I’m not seeing anyone. I’d tell you if I was.”

“So, is this a date?”

“No, it’s lunch. Why, do you want it to be?” Mae fired back, Jill’s easygoing demeanor and utter lack of table manners setting Mae at ease. “I take it from your familiarity, you’ve also been on the receiving end of those clumsy attempts to flirt and cheesy pick-up lines?”

Jill rolled her eyes and took a last bite of her food. She nodded her head in an exaggerated manner while she chewed. “Yeah,” she gasped out after she swallowed. Jill gave the corner of her mouth a dainty dab with her napkin, an act wildly different from her eating style.

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