Thank you to all the brave souls who entered this month’s Four on 400 contest!
Sharing your writing takes courage, and we appreciate your enthusiasm for our contest.
Below, we’ve posted the first 400 words from this month’s winner, along with feedback from at least four of our members. We also encourage our readers to share their (constructive) suggestions and encouragement in the comments section below.
YA Contemporary: VARIATIONS ON A TANGO GIRL
Watching Fame did not prepare me for this.
Fame showed me a loud, chaotic, swirling school of the arts. All of that’s here. For sure. But Fame didn’t make me feel the pulse. This place has a pounding, driving beat. It’s the students. It’s their want. It pushes them. I guess I have to say us, now. The wanting pulse of us gives every second weight and meaning.
My old school was not like this. It was slow. Quiet. Dead, really, by comparison.
This place is alive.
“What’s your name again? Mary?”
Even though it’s not my name, the voice is so close that I am mostly sure it is meant for my ear. I’m almost grateful for the single voice, the solitary thing to focus on in the movement around me. I turn my head to the voice. A girl I recognize from my dance mods drops into the chair next to me. She’s still wearing her black leotard, but now has dark purple sweats thrown over it. Her hair lingers in the the bun we all have to wear for class.
The oversize, clunky street shoes on her feet don’t match the rest of her. Neither does the bag she drops at her feet as she slouches back in her seat. The forest green duffel is tagged with Dresden’s Child logos.
“Mavis,” I say. I offer up a small smile with my name. I feel it fade away before it can reach my eyes, but the girl doesn’t seem to notice.
“Desiree,” she responds.
I assume that is her name, not an argument over mine. My eyes bounce from Desiree to the rest of the bodies careening around the small theatre space everyone calls “The Small Square.” Flesh covered in a variety of tights, leotards, sweats, jeans, and skirts flit up and down the risers, pushing off of chairs and other bodies. For the most part, the action swirls on the risers, avoiding the flat open space surrounded by the risers. A tornado of torsos.
It’s like Desiree and I are the only island of calm. Or stuck in the eye of a hurricane.
“Is it always this loud?” I finally ask.
“Oh, it’ll get real quiet real fast in about ten seconds.” Desiree says this with a tilted grin as she reaches up and pulls the pins holding up her hair.
Karin: My best friend went to the actual Fame school (the School of the Arts), so I know exactly what you mean about it having a pulse! I do worry, though, that teens today may not be familiar with this 80s show, unless it’s having a come back that I’m not aware of. You begin by telling us what this new school is like, and then you proceed to show us, which is much more effective. I would cut the first three paragraphs. Also, we don’t know where we are in the school until tenth paragraph, so consider letting the reader find out where we are sooner. Finally, I love the last paragraph, which would make anyone want to read more! Thank you for sharing, and good luck!
Michelle: Oh, my! You have a beautiful way with description that flows so nicely. Like Karin, I’m a bit concerned that YA readers may struggle to connect with Fame in your opening sentence. I actually love the sentence, but I think it would have more punch somewhere else. For example, she could say it out loud to Desiree. And then Desiree and Mavis could laugh over how old the movie is. How they interact would give us a lot of information about their relationship. Maybe instead of describing the movie setting, you could jump right in to the actual setting. That last sentence is a great hook! I’m expecting something big to happen. Bravo to you if you’re doing that within the first two pages! Best wishes!
Rebecca P: Counterpoint re: teen reader familiarity with Fame. The movie was rebooted in 2009, and a TV reboot is in the works (though it seems to be stalled). I think any teens with a passing interest in dance are likely to be aware of Fame, even if they haven’t seen either movie or the TV series, and other readers will need only a short clause, “that show about the School of the Arts,” to be all caught up. I think Michelle’s suggestion takes care of any potential confusion. (Yes, I’m a Fame nerd. 🙂
I like the poetry of the first four paragraphs, but agree they’re kind of hanging out in space. Rearranging per Karin’s suggestion will ground us. Perhaps those lines can be moved down? I would like one strong emotion cue added. How does Mavis feel? The pulse is poetic, but it could go either way whether she feels charged up or intimidated. It can be both, but I want to know. A dash of Reaction will give depth to the tantalizing Set Up. I’m hooked!
Richelle: I love the setting details. I definitely felt like I was there in this humming, busy creative space. I agree with Karin that the first three paragraphs are a little throat-clearing. And although I too liked the poetry of your descriptions, be careful about throwing all of your wonderful metaphors and similes out at once. Example: “tornado of torsos,” “island of calm” and “stuck in the eye of a hurricane” all together might be just a bit too much, too soon. I did personally love the Fame reference, but I, too, wondered if today’s teens would get it — mine and her friend had never heard of it. (They did know the Step Up movies, which are more recent.) That said, I loved the movement and the energy and the impish Desiree character, and I would definitely read on!