Goal - Engage
Today I worked on this chapter to better engage my readers in the New Adult Fantasy genre. Did I do it?
Dragon Ink
AFTER: Chapter 1
Even the sun gave up on Ellen. It slipped toward the rooftops of the souvenir shops sending long shadows over the cobblestone sidewalk as she paced in front of Big Mark’s Tattoo Parlor.
The glass door burst open in a frenzy of bells.
Big Mark filled the frame. His curly red hair was moussed into two spiked cones. Inked pythons twisted around his thick arm muscles. The tail of a rattlesnake circled the base of his neck. The only visible straight line on his body was his mouth. “Are you coming in this time or not?” he asked. “I need to feed my cat.”
Ellen exhaled into a smile. “Uh, you go feed that cat. We’ll do the tattoo thing another day.”
He crossed his bulging arms and stared.
She chewed on her top lip.
“Look, kid.” He wagged a long finger in front of her. “You’ve rescheduled once a day for a week. Maybe a tattoo isn’t in your cards.”
“I’m going to do this. I have to.” I need my life back.
“Your mouth keeps saying that, but your running shoes avoid this threshold.” He turned back inside. The late afternoon light glinted off the chain that ran from an ear pierce to somewhere below his leather vest. “You’re not ready.”
The door clanged shut. Big Mark flipped the Open sign.
Ellen released the death grip from her backpack straps and shook out her hands.
Big Mark grabbed a pencil and rubbed the eraser on the page of his appointment book with an exaggerated flourish.
“Son of a…” She forced her bowed shoulders straight and tugged the noisy door back open. “Hey, I’m ready.”
“I’m closed.” He grabbed a broom and swept forward, forcing her back to the door. Photos of Big Mark’s specialties filled every inch of display space with snakes, crocodiles, and dragons. A sign near the register read: ‘I don’t do dolphins or butterflies. Don’t even ask.’
“Haven’t you ever had one of those years where so many things go wrong, you’re afraid to do anything?”
“Nope.”
“I’m having one now. My entire once amazing life’s a mess. I’ve missed my deadline for grad school, and my publisher is threatening to drop me. If I lose that gig, I can add my house to the growing list of things I earned early and lost quick.”
“Don’t you have any little playmates you could tell all your crap to?”
“That’s on my list. For now, aside from a couple of bartenders and a neighbor fixated on the correct shade of grass, you’re all I’ve got.”
“A tattoo isn’t for everyone.” Big Mark propped the broom against the wall and traced one finger along the length of one of the snakes that wound down from his shoulder in a spiral of colors. “It’s a manifestation of the life within each of us, showing the world our true selves. It takes bravery to allow others to see us clearly.”
Ellen slapped her hands together then held them up, palms facing the ceiling. “That’s my problem. The tattoo is connected to the fear bone. The fear bone is attached to the working bone. And the working bone is fastened to the roof over my head. If I can get past this suffocating fear, I can take my dreams back.”
Big Mark arched his eyebrows, sending the metal studs up an inch on his forehead. “You know you’re weird, right?”
She nodded.
“A tattoo was the scariest thing you could come up with?”
“I’m afraid it’s going to be the easiest thing on my list.”
Big Mark yanked a curtain open to reveal a black padded chair. “Sit down.” He flicked a switch, and a low buzz filled the room. “I need to be out of here in thirty minutes or Little Spot will shred the good couch.”
BEFORE: - Chapter 1
Even the sun gave up on Ellen. It slipped toward the rooftops of the surrounding restaurants and souvenir shops sending long shadows over the cobblestone sidewalk. She paced in front of Big Mark’s Tattoo Parlor and waffled between taking life by the horns and hiding behind the couch with a six-pack of beer.
The glass door burst open in a frenzy of bells. She froze.
Big Mark filled the frame. Inked snakes curled and twisted around his thick arm muscles. The only straight line on his body was his mouth. “Are you coming in this time or not?” he asked. “I need to feed my cat.”
Ellen exhaled into a smile. “That’s okay. You go feed that cat and we’ll do the tattoo thing another day.”
He crossed his bulging arms and stared.
She chewed on her top lip.
He stretched out a long finger and wagged it back and forth. “You’ve rescheduled once a day for a week. Maybe a tattoo isn’t in your cards.”
“I’m going to do this. I have to.” I need my life back.
“Your mouth keeps saying that, but your body avoids this threshold.” He turned back inside. The late afternoon light glinted off the chain that ran from an ear pierce to somewhere below his leather vest. “You’re not ready. I’m canceling.”
The door clanged shut. Big Mark flipped the Open sign and moved to the appointment book.
Ellen released the death grip from her backpack straps and shook out her hands. He caught her gaze, turned a pencil over, then rubbed the eraser on the page with a flourish that screamed ‘neener-neener, knew you couldn’t do it.’
She sucked in a mouthful of dry air at the challenge. “Son of a…” She forced her bowed shoulders straight and tugged the noisy door back open. “I think I’m ready.”
“I’m closed.” He turned off a desk lamp. Grapes and vine art covered the reception wall to lure in wine country tourists. Photos of Big Mark’s reptile specialties filled every other inch of display space. A sign near the register read: ‘I don’t do dolphins or butterflies. Don’t even ask.’
“I mean it. I’m ready.”
He grabbed a broom and swept forward, forcing her back to the door.
Ellen circled around him to the desk. “Have you ever had one of those years where so many things go wrong, you’re afraid to do anything?”
“Nope.”
“I have. My personal life’s a mess. And my publisher is using phrases like ‘breach of contract.’ If I miss my deadline again, I won’t last in my house another six months.”
“Don’t you have real friends you could tell all your crap to?”
“That’s on my list. For now, aside from a couple of bartenders and a neighbor fixated on the correct shade of grass, you’re all I’ve got.”
“A tattoo isn’t for everyone.” He propped the broom against the wall and traced one finger along the length of a snake that wound down from his shoulder in a spiral of colors. “It’s a manifestation of the life within each of us, showing the world our true self. It takes bravery to allow others to see us clearly.”
Ellen slapped her hands together then held them up, palms facing the ceiling. “That’s my problem. The tattoo is connected to the fear bone. The fear bone is attached to the working bone. And the working bone is fastened to the roof over my head. If I can get past this suffocating fear, I can take my dreams back.”
Big Mark arched his eyebrows, sending the metal studs up an inch on his forehead. “You know you’re weird, right?”
She nodded.
“A tattoo was the scariest thing you could come up with?”
“I’m afraid it’s going to be the easiest thing on my list.”
Big Mark yanked a curtain open to reveal a black padded chair. “I need to be out of here in thirty minutes or Little Spot will shred the good couch.”