Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Returning to the issue of Point of View (POV) from The Art and Craft of Storytelling, this short episode seems to fit the description of the Omniscient Point of View: “.....the omniscient narrator's voice speaks with a power all its own” and “Omniscient means that the narrator is all-seeing, all-knowing.”Although this episode really seems to be a setting of a scene, it is also an unwitting practice run at this particular POV.
Many authors of writing, suggest planning for the many details of writing. My present style of stream of consciousness writing for my initial drafts has really never taken them into consideration. I merely want my characters, my stories, to be authentic and credible.
In my review, I found little to alter, except for one or two minor wording changes.
Awake
Emmie had not been so aware of it as she was the day she saw the spider web. The web wasn't anything grand. She only noticed it because she had been staring at the ceiling as she was coming out of the deep blue funk she had been resting in. When she got up, put on her housecoat and left her bedroom it wasn’t to go to the shower. She strode down the hall to a tiny cupboard disguised as a panel in the wall. She pressed her hand lightly to one side on the decorative trim. A door slid open to a small closet. A slim vacuum cleaner hung on the wall, a broom and a floor mop leaned into one corner. A narrow shelf held a variety of cleaners and cleaning rags. Emmie picked up a broom and a caddy filled with cleaning supplies. Leaving the door open, she returned to her room. Her first task? Get rid of that spider web. Wielding the broom, she swept the ceiling clean and that poor spider was suddenly homeless.
Emmie set about cleaning her bedroom. Anything hiding in any corner, under her bed, was subjected to her awakened energy. Bed sheets were stripped from the bed and shoved in the laundry hamper. The track clothes she’d worn over the last week were unceremoniously dumped on top of the sheets. Everything was dusted and polished until it looked new again. The books in the book shelf seemed to sit up straighter. Even the large bay window, washed and sparkling, smiled in the blue sky. She returned everything to the cupboard, picked up the vacuum cleaner and continued with her cleaning mission. Once she was satisfied, she gathered up a set of clean clothes and soon the shower was billowing with steam. Over the sound of the water hitting the walls of the shower room could be heard “The bed has to go. I’ll tell Digby today to order a new one. I’m moving back to my room, but I need a new bed.” Water turned off, her hair turbaned in a thick white towel, wearing a thick Terry robe, her reflexion smiled at her from the mirror. “Things are going to be different around here. If anyone expects that I will come running just because they call, they’d better think again.”
Dez was at the top of the stairs when she heard the last few words of Emmie’s dictum. “Maybe I’ll just go back downstairs to talk with Cook or with Martha. I don’t think it’s quite time to see how bad off my sister is, but she sure isn’t in bed anymore.”
“Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.”
~ Carl Jung
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