Face-Lift 1539

Guess the Plot

The Long Line

1. A single 50,000-word sentence. No paragraphs. Only one period. And to top it off, there's no plot, either.

2. When Nina decides to quit the sixth grade and travel across all of Europe, her mother agrees, and goes with her. But they didn't count on the evil of Europeans, especially Norwegians. Also, a one-eyed kestrel.

3. Harold McPhearson sets out to prove if the eternal purple crayon (tm) really is eternal. On his adventures, he explores surrealism, impressionism, continuous line drawing, the history of art, etc, all simply described for a young audience.

4. When there's only one working toilet in Michigan Stadium, well, let's just say it might be faster to leave and come back than stand in the longest line ever. (Not to mention running out of t.p.) On the other hand, you'll miss the jokes about Nietzsche.

Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

THE LONG LINE is a work of fiction and is complete at 72,000 words. It follows in the tradition of novels about American expatriates in Europe and will appeal to readers of THE IDIOT by Elif Batuman and MOONLIGHT EXPRESS.

The night before Nina’s first day of middle school, she announces to her parents that she will not attend the sixth grade. Worn down by years of dragging her reluctant child from the house, Brandi, Nina’s mother, cobbles together curricula. All is going well until Nina announces, after only three months, that she has completed the sixth grade and intends to stay in her room rereading a popular series about centaurs for the remainder of the year. [So far, my advice is to drop Nina and write a book about centaurs.] [Back when I was a student, sixth grade wasn't middle school, and it was up to the teacher to announce whether the students had completed a grade. I gotta get with the times.] Brandi, who has circumscribed her life for her daughter’s sake [devoted her life to capitulating to her daughter's every demand], decides that they should use this period to acclimate Nina to the world outside their home. 

She imagines them spending the rest of the winter in Cartagena or Lima, but Nina, who is obsessive about geographical oddities, wants to see Liechtenstein. [I'm with Nina on this one.] Not wanting to stifle her daughter’s interest, Brandi challenges her to plan for two months in Europe on paltry budget—an impossible task—but Nina returns, [Returns? Where was she?] saying she is eligible for a deeply discounted rail pass until she turns twelve. She has an itinerary that allows them to see every exclave, enclave, and micro state in Western and Central Europe…[Except Liechtenstein.] provided that they sleep each night on a train. [Why does the railroad care where they sleep?]

Within hours of their arrival, things go awry. Expenses pile up, Brandi struggles to complete her remote work abroad, and in desperation to stick to the original budget, they begin spending nights on intercity trains and in stations. Nina can sleep anywhere, but Brandi is losing her grip on reality with every restless night and tries to conceal this fact from her husband in her jaunty updates. [Wait, she has a husband? Where was he when Nina was declaring she was quitting school to read about centaurs?]

Deep sleep comes for Brandi, finally, on the line from Narvik to Stockholm, [They're trying to squeeze in every country in Europe, and they're in Narvik? That's like a whole day up and another back. It's practically the north pole. And what country did they go to Narvik from? Finland? That's another day wasted on the train.] but the consequences of a chance encounter on the train turn Brandi and Nina into two foreigners inadvertently squatting in [a] miniature canal house and burdened with a pair of budgies, an unfriendly cat, and a one-eyed European kestrel.

THE LONG LINE is an examination of parenthood and domesticity and their capacity to be both life-giving and annihilating. It is also an exploration of how a parent can convey an honest history of the capacity of people to commit evil acts while retaining a sense of hope, and lastly, a love letter of sorts to the remarkable achievement of peace among member states of the EU/Schengen Area. [Wait, did you say evil acts? How could you fail to mention the evil acts when you were summarizing the plot? They're your biggest selling point.]

Notes

I could be reading this all wrong, but here's my suggestion. Scrap the opening plot paragraphs, and start with something like this:

During a two-month rail adventure across Europe (that they can't afford), Brandi and her demanding eleven-year-old daughter Nina have a chance encounter with ? that leaves them squatting in a Norwegian house of horrors, burdened with a pair of budgies, an unfriendly cat, and a one-eyed European kestrel. What's worse is they haven't even made it to Liechtenstein yet.

You might have to change house of horrors to canal house if this isn't where the evil acts happen. And the budgies, kestrel and cat suggest humor more than evil, so change squatting to trapped, and burdened by animals to chained in a dungeon. 

And if the canal house is just one chapter in a road trip/travelogue type book I still prefer less of the background and some specific examples of things that happen.