Can the Fundamental Principles of Non-fiction Writing Be Applied to Fiction?
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by: phil.yaffe@yahoo.com
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by Philip Yaffe
I have never
written fiction and never intended to. My 40-year career has been in journalism
and marketing communication. However, a few months ago someone who had read my
book on expository (non-fiction) writing and speaking contacted me to ask if I
could help her with some fiction projects. I was inclined to say
"no", because I couldn't really see what my kind of writing had to do
with hers. By chance, a few weeks earlier I had came across a compilation of
comments on writing by noted novelists and was struck by the similarity of what
they had to say and what I had say. So I decided to give it a try.
The lady asked
me to look at a novel she had written a few years earlier. We will first analyze
the prologue of the novel according to some key principles and practices of
expository writing, then look at how it was revised.
But first, what
are these key principles? There really are only three of them. However, if
properly understood and applied, they cover most writing situations, both
creative and expository.
A. Clarity Principle
Being clear is not a matter of personal appreciation. According to the
clarity principle, to be clear you must do three things:
1. Emphasize what is of key
importance.
2. De-emphasize what is of
secondary importance.
3. Eliminate what is of no
importance.
If you follow the formula, before you start writing you must first
determine what is of key importance,
i.e. what are the key ideas you want your readers to take away from your text?
This is not always easy. It is far simpler to say that everything is of
key importance, so you put in everything you have. However, unless you do the
work of defining what you really want your readers to know, they won't do it
for you. They will simply get lost in your text and either give up or come out
the other end not knowing what they have read.
Next, you must be certain to de-emphasize what is of secondary importance. Why? Because if
you want your readers to recognize and retain the key ideas, you don’t want
them to get lost in the details. Details (information of secondary importance)
explain and support the key ideas. They must never overwhelm them.
Finally, you must eliminate what is of no importance. Why? Because any information that adds nothing to
explaining and supporting the key ideas will tend to obscure them. This is
exactly the opposite of what you want.
B. Conciseness Principle
According to the conciseness principle, your
text should be as:
1. Long as necessary
2. Short as possible
"As long as necessary" means covering
all the key ideas you identified under “clarity”, and all the information of
secondary importance needed to explain and support them. Note that nothing is
said about the number of words, because it is irrelevant. If it takes 500 words
to be "as long as necessary", then 500 words must be used. If it
takes 1500 words, then this is all right, too.
"As short as possible" means staying
as close to the minimum as you can, because all words beyond the minimum tend to damage
clarity. Subconsciously, readers will continually be trying to understand why
those words are there, and will be continually failing because they serve no
purpose.
Anything that doesn't add to the text, subtracts from it.
C. Density
Principle
According to the density principle, you text
should contain:
1. Precise information
2. Logically linked
Using precise
information aids clarity. For example, if you say it is a “hot” day, what do
you mean? One reader might interpret hot as 24° C, while another might
interpret is as 36° C. However, if you say the temperature is 28° C, there is
no room for interpretation - or misinterpretation.
Using precise
information also generates confidence, because it assures your readers that you
really know what you are talking about. This helps to hold their attention,
making it easier to get your points across.
To these three
fundamental principles of expository writing, I would like to add a specific
technique. Analyze each sentence or passage you write to see what question it
may raise in the reader's mind. Then answer it!
Usually these
questions will be subconscious; the reader won't even be aware of them.
However, a lengthening list of "what is this?" and "why is
that?" will inevitably cause the reader's mind to wander away from what
you are trying to say. When it has wandered far enough, it is unlikely to come
back.
The reader will
complain that the text is shallow, boring, insipid or confusing. And he will be
right.
Analysis
Below you will find the
"Analysis" of the prologue of the novel. For best benefit, you should
probable read the text straight through, ignoring the comments in parentheses.
Next, re-read with the comments. Finally, compare this original with the
"Revision", produced by applying the above principles.
The purpose of
the prologue is to:
1) Introduce the principal characters
2) Outline the plot
3) Generate a sense of mystery and expectation
These are the key
ideas; everything in the text should bend to them
-----------------------------------
his signal as the 737 taxied past her. (Where is she? Could she possibly be on
the tarmac?). She saw nothing, but her belief didn’t waver. (Is she expecting
some kind of major event?)
As the aircraft
rolled almost out of sight, she noticed two distinct flashes. It was Mitch. As
always, he’d remembered. Almost a year ago, they’d devised a system of code to
communicate from the terminal to the plane when she’d complained that she
couldn’t see in the tiny jet’s windows – a flash of his silver business card
case meant that he loved her and he’d be back soon. (Hardly the major event
suggested earlier.)
And she knew he
would, considering the long-awaited engagement ring he’d just given her before
he boarded – a solitary white diamond with heart shaped clusters on both sides
and smaller diamonds embedded on the band. (Would a man really give a woman an
engagement ring at an airport just before flying off to leave her for a week?)
Over fifteen
minutes passed and finally the plane’s engines whined into action. Heaving
greatly, the Rolls Royce motors overcame the aircraft’s stagnant weight and the
immense mass accelerated down the long tarmac strip. Once having gained speed,
it only took a small flick of the wing’s flaps and the steel structure
effortlessly rose into the air and was magically in flight. (This seems a
rather dramatic description of a plane taking off, particularly for people like
Aurora and Mitch, who are used to flying. What is the purpose of this
description?)
of relief that was echoed by the few relatives that had remained on both sides
of her – a petite woman, a young girl, a man.
The plane was
away safely. (More drama about the airplane taking off. Is this paragraph
really necessary?)
She dabbed her
forehead with a handkerchief Mitch had given her. GMA it was initialized – Greg
Mitchell Adderby – silver-haired, he was her boss, her mentor, her first real love
(how old is she?). She breathed in the Antheus
scent that still clung to it – his scent. Then she rubbed the sweat of her palm
(still concerned about the takeoff?) against the jeans he’d bought for her at
Harrods in London on their first excursion together, her first trip out of
America. Ruby red denim. They were his favorite color, just like the ties he
always wore. That was only a year ago.
She’d become so
much a part of Mitch’s life since then, his wisdom and maturity a guide to her
(how old is Mitch?). He had promised to protect her (against what?). And she
marveled at the company he co-founded (with whom?), Rad Foods International, a
distribution company for fresh and irradiated fruits and vegetables, a place
where she could work happily, sometimes even excel.
But now he was
gone. What would she do for a week? (Doesn't she work in the company?) How she
wished she hadn’t had to stay behind for the awards dinner, Young Business Designer of the Year. But she was
proud of the achievement and the recognition. In his absence, Mitch had
arranged for Gerard Marques, their lead salesman, to accompany her. “There’s no
one else I’d rather rely on,” he had told her. (Aurora seems to have won award.
For what? What kind of work does she do?)
On the plane, Mitch
fumbled nervously with his briefcase (why "nervously"?). Then he
stared out the window and caught a glimpse of Aurora in the oversized terminal
window. Long, flowing, dark brown hair. Long waist, long, slender limbs. Even
from a distance, the brightly dyed jeans and fire-engine angora sweater that
clung to her svelte frame were a beacon to him. “My ray of sunshine,” he whispered, and breathed
deeply, pensively. (Where is Mitch going? Where is he leaving from?)
As her tall
figure dwindled to a mere dot, he took off his seatbelt and turned his neck
almost backwards, straining to see her for a few more seconds.
Suddenly, the
plane jerked. He was lurched abruptly, and a searing pain bolted from his head
down his spine. He faced forward again and rubbed his sore neck. “Oh,” he
cried, as the plane wrenched him another excruciating time, on this occurrence
with even more force.
“For God sake
man, get your head down,” a bearded man next to him yelled.
(Why bearded?
This seems to be a gratuitous detail, shifting reader attention away from
Mitch.)
“What?”
“Get your head
down.”
Confused, Mitch
obeyed the strict command and plunged his chest to his knees, gripping onto the
silver card case through the chest pocket of his black Armani suit (is this
dramatic moment an appropriate time to describe what Mitch is wearing?).
“Fire,” someone
screamed from the economy section. “It’s the engine.” (Why economy section?
Should we assume that Mitch is in business or first class? With the plane in
crisis, does it really matter?)
“Place your head
between your knees and be calm,” a shrill female voice wailed over the
loudspeaker. (Would a trained stewardess "wail" in a "shrill
voice"?) Her words were barely audible over the chaos.
As the aircraft
reeled again, a luggage rack jarred opened above them, and a vivid fuchsia bag
smashed into the aisle, its zipper bursting – bras, socks, and underwear
spilling out. So steep was the jet’s angle now that the clothes tumbled down
the length of the aisle with the ease of marbles. (Enumerating the contents of
the bag shifts reader attention away from Mitch. Is it relevant?).
Next to Mitch,
two women were sobbing hysterically. “This can’t be happening,” one screamed. (Once
again, reader attention is shifted away from Mitch. Why?)
Unexpectedly,
the doors of another overhead compartment swung open, this time hurling yellow
cups onto the already frightened passengers (Is this sentence necessary?).
“Put on your
seatbelt…” the bearded man shouted to Mitch from beside him. His hands fumbled
to obey.
On the ground,
plane lurched unevenly. It wasn’t ascending anymore. Suddenly, it made another
wrenching motion and then pitched itself downward.
“My God,” she
cried, looking fearfully at the dangerous angle. Everyone around her at the
at the scene. (Why this shift of attention away from
has been re-established?) The plane was only a few hundred yards off the
ground, with no hope of enough room to level out for a smooth landing.
Suddenly, the
aircraft tilted sideways and turned back towards the building. A colossal burst
of fire spewed from the engine.
“They’re gonna die!” someone screamed.
“No!”
metallic mass dropped to the asphalt with a force that violently quaked the
ground, as if a Goliath was tumbling to earth. (This seems to be a gratuitous,
distracting metaphor. Is it necessary?) The plane’s wing scraped along the
airstrip with a deafening noise, and thick choking puffs spilled out of the
hull.
An explosion
blew out the left jet, and flames began raging.
Mitch was in one of the windows. She was with him – she envisaged the last time
they’d eaten a romantic dinner together, the last time he'd snuck a kiss at
work, the last time they’d made love– He was reaching out to her. (This seems a
distracting interlude during a crisis. Is it necessary?)
Finally, the
lamed giant skidded to a standstill on the tarmac just in front of the window
where she stood.
---------------------------------
The scene
continues in very much the same manner, i.e. raising questions that aren't
being answered, unnecessary shifts of attention, distracting details, etc.
Revision of the
Prologue
Here is the
revision. See how application of the three expository writing principles
(clarity, conciseness, density) and the question & answer technique have
altered it.
-------------------------------
the terminal window, searching for his signal as the 737 taxied past her. She
hadn't yet seen it but she knew she would. As the aircraft rolled almost out of
sight, she caught sight of what she had been waiting for, two distinct flashes.
It was Mitch.
Almost a year
earlier, she had complained that she couldn't see him through the tiny jet's
windows, so they had devised their private signally system. A flash of his
silver business card case meant that he loved her and would soon return.
And there it
was. They had used the system many times over the past year, but this time was
special. Just before boarding, he had given her what she had been praying for,
an engagement ring. It was in the form of solitary white diamond with heart
shaped clusters on both sides and smaller diamonds embedded on the band.
Mitch had
planned to give it to her after his return, but as he said, "I just
couldn't wait.
"That was
just like Mitch,"
Generally cool, calm and methodical, but capable of occasional flashes of
appropriate spontaneity.
The moment he
put it on her finger, all of
dreams about an elegant candle-lit dinner, a romantic moonlight stroll along
the river, and maybe even her suitor down on one knee, instantly vanished.
Mitch was as eager as she. That was all that mattered.
At the age of 26,
she had of course been in love before. But never like this. It couldn't have
been like this.
The plane rested
on the tarmac a good 15 minutes. Finally, its powerful Rolls Royce engines
roared into action. It began taxiing down the runway, gathering the speed
necessary to lift its heavy mass into the sky.
handkerchief Mitch had given her from her purse. It bore the initials GMA -
Gregory Mitchell Adderby. She briefly pressed it to her nose and breathed in
the Antheus scent that still clung to it –
his scent. Oh yes, she had been in love before, but never like this.
Just over a year
ago, Mitch had been only her boss, but then became her mentor, her lover. And
now her soon-to-be husband.
She touched the
engagement ring he had put on her slender finger less than 30 minutes ago. Each
time Mitch had gone away before, the days had dragged. But how was she going to
get through the coming week now.
Mitch was on his
way to the Young Business Designer of the Year
awards dinner in
to be honored. At 31, Mitch was still a boyish-looking if silver-haired
entrepreneur. Six years ago, he and a university buddy had founded Rad Foods
International, a rapidly growing distribution company for fresh and irradiated
fruits and vegetables. Still small compared to its competitors, the company was
generally recognized a real comer and would soon take its place among the big
boys.
On the plane,
Mitch was at a window seat, head turned back trying to catch a last glimpse of
oversized windows of the
Flowing auburn hair, long waist, slender limbs. Even at this distance, he could
make out the ruby jeans and fire-engine red angora sweater he had bought her a
few weeks ago when they were in
ray of sunshine,” he whispered.
As
dwindled to a dot, Mitch took off his seatbelt and started to open his
briefcase. Suddenly, the plane lurched and he was thrown forward, hitting his
head against the seat in front of him. He straightened up, rubbing his sore
neck and just beginning to feel pain radiating down his body. The plane lurched
again.
“For God sake
man, get your head down!” yelled the man across the aisle.
“What?”
“Get your head
down, you idiot! The plane is going to crash!”
There was no
doubting the authority in the voice, so Mitch obeyed. He thrust his chest to
his knees, gripping the silver card case through the chest pocket of his
jacket.
“Fire! It's the
engine!” someone screamed.
Then a sturdily
dispassionate but slightly wavering female voice came over the loudspeaker: “Ladies
and Gentlemen, please place your head between your knees and remain calm.”
As the plane
lurched again, an overhead luggage rack jarred opened. A fuchsia lady's
traveling case crashed to the floor, spilling out a rainstorm of equally
colorful intimate apparel – bras, panties, stockings, nighties.
"Quite a
show," Mitch thought, trying to calm is rapidly fraying nerves. But the
respite lasted only a moment.
“Put your damn
seatbelt on!" thundered the man across the aisle. Mitch fumbled to comply,
but never quite made it.
On the ground,
the scene in horror. The plane was no longer rising. Instead, it was wobbling
from side to side as if trying to make up its mind which way to go. Abruptly,
it pitched downward.
“Oh my God,”
heart pounding and droplets of sweat pearling on her forehead.
Suddenly, there
was a bright flash and a torrent of fire and smoke gushed from the plane's
fuselage.
“It's going to
crash! They’re all going to die!" someone shouted.
“No!”
stricken aircraft plummeted out of the sky. Just before hitting the ground, the
pilot regained some kind of control. He sent it along the runway. It screamed
and screeched as its crippled undercarriage gouged huge trenches in the tarmac
along its path.
Another explosion,
more fire and smoke. Finally, the plane skidded to a stop just in front of the
window where
--------------------------------------
To answer the question at the beginning: Can the
fundamental principles of non-fiction (clarity, conciseness, density) be
applied to fiction? Indeed, they can. And with considerable effect. So if you
have always wanted to write fiction but felt it was beyond you, why not give it
a try? You may be better than you think.
Philip Yaffe is a former reporter/feature writer
with The Wall Street Journal and a
marketing communication consultant. He currently teaches a course in good
writing and good speaking in
published book In the “I” of the Storm: the Simple Secrets of Writing & Speaking
(Almost) like a Professional is available from Story Publishers in
(storypublishers.be) and Amazon (amazon.com).
For further information, contact:
Philip Yaffe
Tel:
+32 (0)2 660 0405
Email:
phil.yaffe@yahoo.com,phil.yaffe@gmail.com
About the Author
by Philip Yaffe
I have never
written fiction and never intended to. My 40-year career has been in journalism
and marketing communication. However, a few months ago someone who had read my
book on expository (non-fiction) writing and speaking contacted me to ask if I
could help her with some fiction projects. I was inclined to say
"no", because I couldn't really see what my kind of writing had to do
with hers. By chance, a few weeks earlier I had came across a compilation of
comments on writing by noted novelists and was struck by the similarity of what
they had to say and what I had say. So I decided to give it a try.
The lady asked
me to look at a novel she had written a few years earlier. We will first analyze
the prologue of the novel according to some key principles and practices of
expository writing, then look at how it was revised.
But first, what
are these key principles? There really are only three of them. However, if
properly understood and applied, they cover most writing situations, both
creative and expository.
A. Clarity Principle
Being clear is not a matter of personal appreciation. According to the
clarity principle, to be clear you must do three things:
1. Emphasize what is of key
importance.
2. De-emphasize what is of
secondary importance.
3. Eliminate what is of no
importance.
If you follow the formula, before you start writing you must first
determine what is of key importance,
i.e. what are the key ideas you want your readers to take away from your text?
This is not always easy. It is far simpler to say that everything is of
key importance, so you put in everything you have. However, unless you do the
work of defining what you really want your readers to know, they won't do it
for you. They will simply get lost in your text and either give up or come out
the other end not knowing what they have read.
Next, you must be certain to de-emphasize what is of secondary importance. Why? Because if
you want your readers to recognize and retain the key ideas, you don’t want
them to get lost in the details. Details (information of secondary importance)
explain and support the key ideas. They must never overwhelm them.
Finally, you must eliminate what is of no importance. Why? Because any information that adds nothing to
explaining and supporting the key ideas will tend to obscure them. This is
exactly the opposite of what you want.
B. Conciseness Principle
According to the conciseness principle, your
text should be as:
1. Long as necessary
2. Short as possible
"As long as necessary" means covering
all the key ideas you identified under “clarity”, and all the information of
secondary importance needed to explain and support them. Note that nothing is
said about the number of words, because it is irrelevant. If it takes 500 words
to be "as long as necessary", then 500 words must be used. If it
takes 1500 words, then this is all right, too.
"As short as possible" means staying
as close to the minimum as you can, because all words beyond the minimum tend to damage
clarity. Subconsciously, readers will continually be trying to understand why
those words are there, and will be continually failing because they serve no
purpose.
Anything that doesn't add to the text, subtracts from it.
C. Density
Principle
According to the density principle, you text
should contain:
1. Precise information
2. Logically linked
Using precise
information aids clarity. For example, if you say it is a “hot” day, what do
you mean? One reader might interpret hot as 24° C, while another might
interpret is as 36° C. However, if you say the temperature is 28° C, there is
no room for interpretation - or misinterpretation.
Using precise
information also generates confidence, because it assures your readers that you
really know what you are talking about. This helps to hold their attention,
making it easier to get your points across.
To these three
fundamental principles of expository writing, I would like to add a specific
technique. Analyze each sentence or passage you write to see what question it
may raise in the reader's mind. Then answer it!
Usually these
questions will be subconscious; the reader won't even be aware of them.
However, a lengthening list of "what is this?" and "why is
that?" will inevitably cause the reader's mind to wander away from what
you are trying to say. When it has wandered far enough, it is unlikely to come
back.
The reader will
complain that the text is shallow, boring, insipid or confusing. And he will be
right.
Analysis
Below you will find the
"Analysis" of the prologue of the novel. For best benefit, you should
probable read the text straight through, ignoring the comments in parentheses.
Next, re-read with the comments. Finally, compare this original with the
"Revision", produced by applying the above principles.
The purpose of
the prologue is to:
1) Introduce the principal characters
2) Outline the plot
3) Generate a sense of mystery and expectation
These are the key
ideas; everything in the text should bend to them
-----------------------------------
As the aircraft
rolled almost out of sight, she noticed two distinct flashes. It was Mitch. As
always, he’d remembered. Almost a year ago, they’d devised a system of code to
communicate from the terminal to the plane when she’d complained that she
couldn’t see in the tiny jet’s windows – a flash of his silver business card
case meant that he loved her and he’d be back soon. (Hardly the major event
suggested earlier.)
And she knew he
would, considering the long-awaited engagement ring he’d just given her before
he boarded – a solitary white diamond with heart shaped clusters on both sides
and smaller diamonds embedded on the band. (Would a man really give a woman an
engagement ring at an airport just before flying off to leave her for a week?)
Over fifteen
minutes passed and finally the plane’s engines whined into action. Heaving
greatly, the Rolls Royce motors overcame the aircraft’s stagnant weight and the
immense mass accelerated down the long tarmac strip. Once having gained speed,
it only took a small flick of the wing’s flaps and the steel structure
effortlessly rose into the air and was magically in flight. (This seems a
rather dramatic description of a plane taking off, particularly for people like
Aurora and Mitch, who are used to flying. What is the purpose of this
description?)
The plane was
away safely. (More drama about the airplane taking off. Is this paragraph
really necessary?)
She dabbed her
forehead with a handkerchief Mitch had given her. GMA it was initialized – Greg
Mitchell Adderby – silver-haired, he was her boss, her mentor, her first real love
(how old is she?). She breathed in the Antheus
scent that still clung to it – his scent. Then she rubbed the sweat of her palm
(still concerned about the takeoff?) against the jeans he’d bought for her at
Harrods in London on their first excursion together, her first trip out of
America. Ruby red denim. They were his favorite color, just like the ties he
always wore. That was only a year ago.
She’d become so
much a part of Mitch’s life since then, his wisdom and maturity a guide to her
(how old is Mitch?). He had promised to protect her (against what?). And she
marveled at the company he co-founded (with whom?), Rad Foods International, a
distribution company for fresh and irradiated fruits and vegetables, a place
where she could work happily, sometimes even excel.
But now he was
gone. What would she do for a week? (Doesn't she work in the company?) How she
wished she hadn’t had to stay behind for the awards dinner, Young Business Designer of the Year. But she was
proud of the achievement and the recognition. In his absence, Mitch had
arranged for Gerard Marques, their lead salesman, to accompany her. “There’s no
one else I’d rather rely on,” he had told her. (Aurora seems to have won award.
For what? What kind of work does she do?)
On the plane, Mitch
fumbled nervously with his briefcase (why "nervously"?). Then he
stared out the window and caught a glimpse of Aurora in the oversized terminal
window. Long, flowing, dark brown hair. Long waist, long, slender limbs. Even
from a distance, the brightly dyed jeans and fire-engine angora sweater that
clung to her svelte frame were a beacon to him. “My ray of sunshine,” he whispered, and breathed
deeply, pensively. (Where is Mitch going? Where is he leaving from?)
As her tall
figure dwindled to a mere dot, he took off his seatbelt and turned his neck
almost backwards, straining to see her for a few more seconds.
Suddenly, the
plane jerked. He was lurched abruptly, and a searing pain bolted from his head
down his spine. He faced forward again and rubbed his sore neck. “Oh,” he
cried, as the plane wrenched him another excruciating time, on this occurrence
with even more force.
“For God sake
man, get your head down,” a bearded man next to him yelled.
(Why bearded?
This seems to be a gratuitous detail, shifting reader attention away from
Mitch.)
“What?”
“Get your head
down.”
Confused, Mitch
obeyed the strict command and plunged his chest to his knees, gripping onto the
silver card case through the chest pocket of his black Armani suit (is this
dramatic moment an appropriate time to describe what Mitch is wearing?).
“Fire,” someone
screamed from the economy section. “It’s the engine.” (Why economy section?
Should we assume that Mitch is in business or first class? With the plane in
crisis, does it really matter?)
“Place your head
between your knees and be calm,” a shrill female voice wailed over the
loudspeaker. (Would a trained stewardess "wail" in a "shrill
voice"?) Her words were barely audible over the chaos.
As the aircraft
reeled again, a luggage rack jarred opened above them, and a vivid fuchsia bag
smashed into the aisle, its zipper bursting – bras, socks, and underwear
spilling out. So steep was the jet’s angle now that the clothes tumbled down
the length of the aisle with the ease of marbles. (Enumerating the contents of
the bag shifts reader attention away from Mitch. Is it relevant?).
Next to Mitch,
two women were sobbing hysterically. “This can’t be happening,” one screamed. (Once
again, reader attention is shifted away from Mitch. Why?)
Unexpectedly,
the doors of another overhead compartment swung open, this time hurling yellow
cups onto the already frightened passengers (Is this sentence necessary?).
“Put on your
seatbelt…” the bearded man shouted to Mitch from beside him. His hands fumbled
to obey.
On the ground,
“My God,” she
cried, looking fearfully at the dangerous angle. Everyone around her at the
Suddenly, the
aircraft tilted sideways and turned back towards the building. A colossal burst
of fire spewed from the engine.
“They’re gonna die!” someone screamed.
“No!”
An explosion
blew out the left jet, and flames began raging.
Finally, the
lamed giant skidded to a standstill on the tarmac just in front of the window
where she stood.
---------------------------------
The scene
continues in very much the same manner, i.e. raising questions that aren't
being answered, unnecessary shifts of attention, distracting details, etc.
Revision of the
Prologue
Here is the
revision. See how application of the three expository writing principles
(clarity, conciseness, density) and the question & answer technique have
altered it.
-------------------------------
Almost a year
earlier, she had complained that she couldn't see him through the tiny jet's
windows, so they had devised their private signally system. A flash of his
silver business card case meant that he loved her and would soon return.
And there it
was. They had used the system many times over the past year, but this time was
special. Just before boarding, he had given her what she had been praying for,
an engagement ring. It was in the form of solitary white diamond with heart
shaped clusters on both sides and smaller diamonds embedded on the band.
Mitch had
planned to give it to her after his return, but as he said, "I just
couldn't wait.
"That was
just like Mitch,"
The moment he
put it on her finger, all of
At the age of 26, she had of course been in love before. But never