by Anne Skalitza from the July 13, 2026 issue
Tagline
When Sarah agreed to meet a former flame for a walk, she never expected it might open the door to healing--and perhaps a second chance at love.
Observations
Anne does a few things in this story that I'd like to highlight. It's been a while since I saw some good teaching moments in a story, so bear with me.
First, she states that Sarah is reconnecting with an old boyfriend and a little later we see "his dark brown hair now sported lots of silver at the temples," which gives us a rough idea of their ages.
It's vital in fiction to provide readers with details with which they can create a mental picture of the characters. For instance, once I know they're old enough for gray hair, I can assume they might have married and had kids or even grandkids. They've probably had one or more relationships since high school. They likely have an established career. These assumptions are nebulous, but they're there in my mind, waiting to be true or false.
On the other hand, if we found out they were younger--say just out of college--I'd have made a different sent of assumptions. Their break-up is much fresher. They may not have had other relationships because one or both of them had been carrying torches for each other. They might be realizing that they'd made a big mistake and might be seeking reconciliation. They will have most of their lives ahead of them, meaning they could marry and create a family together.
The timing of when you reveal these details is just as vital. If you go too far into the story, the reader might erroneously create a picture that's inaccurate. For example, if they thought the character was an x-ray tech but find out later he's the head of surgery--that requires a complete mental revision which can cause annoyance and confusion.
That being said, some character details are nice, but not vital. For instance, eye or hair color, or the fact that he has broad shoulders. Like I said, it's nice to know that. It helps me picture him in my head. But if I'm picturing a man with brown hair and later find out it's blond, it doesn't create nearly as much confusion.
The second teaching moment I wanted to highlight is the plot twist, which is the point when a story unexpectedly changes direction. I mentioned that readers make assumptions. With this story I came to all the nebulous conclusions I listed above, which is why the fact that she's a widow comes out of left field. When you're writing plot twists, you subtly lead the reader in a certain direction so that you can surprise them later. Now, suddenly, I'm feeling a completely different way about Sarah and I love seeing how Ethan responds.
And then, we get another smaller plot twist: he's a widower. Again, the story angles in a slightly different direction and changes the way we're looking at this couple. I find myself rooting for them more because they're both adrift, and experiencing love and loss means they will have another, deep and meaningful, layer of connection.
Photo by kowarski via Flickr CC license
