In summary

There’s some very good writing here. It’s difficult to capture the natural rhythms of thought or speech, but that effect is achieved in the juxtaposition of short and longer sentences. It feels like the character is talking directly to us, which makes for a powerful narrative voice.

However, good writing deserves to be better. Vague or incorrect punctuation spoils the overall effect and makes the prose less precise. Knowing the rules and using punctuation to its fullest potential is the first responsibility of anyone who wants to write. Many writers prefer to punctuate according to what ‘feels’ right, but that doesn’t work. It’s just wrong. Moreover, it’s not professional. If a writer doesn’t know the rules, who should?

Sometimes when writing, we unconsciously lapse into formal prose – perhaps because our education conditions us to write essays that way. If the story is coming from a personal point of view, however, it should use natural patterns of speech. That means contractions (‘I’m’ not ‘I am’).

The main issue with this piece is its narrative focus, which appears to drift. We start with an evocative description of the workplace at the end of the day before a natural transition into the narrator’s alienation in this workplace. But then, about halfway through, we start to focus on Shanti. Not only on Shanti, but specifically on her backstory. What’s happening here? Where is the reader supposed to focus? Is the story really about Shanti? If so, why did we begin in a different place and with a different person?

The key to writing a scene – especially the opening scene of a novel – is to stick with it. Establish the voice and the location.

Establish the focus (the story, the context the mood) and let it develop naturally until something happens that the reader is interested in and wishes to follow. If nothing happens, why would the reader continue?

What actually happens in this extract? Lockers bang and people go home. That’s it. The rest is context and backstory. The novel has swallowed itself before it really begins. If an agent or publisher were reading this, they’d have concerns on page one even if the writing itself is good.

I said in the comments that there might be a question of the narrator’s level of English. She herself mentions it. True, that was ten years previously, but people don’t often lose an accent in ten years unless they start learning as children. Do we want the prose to reflect the narrator’s native accent? As it stands, the prose seems to be that of a skilled writer rather than how we might expect an immigrant abattoir worker to sound. It’s certainly not easy to replicate accents in prose and I’m not sure I’d attempt it, but it’s a question to think about.

I seem to have made a lot of comments on what is essentially an effective piece of writing, but I think it shows how many small changes can be the difference between ‘good’ and ‘professional’. If this was a professional piece of writing, I’d expect to find no errors and have just a handful of questions about alternative phrasing. Professional writing is, paradoxically, invisible – we simply absorb the scene and the character voice directly into our minds. No matter how complex the techniques involved, the prose flows without us noticing how the writer has achieved the effect.