If you’re willing to share a sentence from your WIP (work in progress), then do so. Or, if not your current work, then something else you’ve written and finished (or “finished”). You can share here, below, in the comment section.
If you share a sentence, you should also be willing to critique a sentence written by someone else.
Consider how the sentence reads.
Is it clear?
Powerful?
Muddy and uncertain?
Elegant?
Is there a good rhythm?
Does it go on too long?
Examine the sentence. A sentence — above the word, at least — is the smallest building block of our writing and storytelling, so it behooves us to learn how to write a whip-crack of an example.
What makes the sentence work?
What causes it to fail in its mission?
Post a sentence.
Critique a sentence.
Discuss.
And, as always: be kind, be constructive more than destructive, and remember that any and all critique is largely subjective. (Though certain rules for language may apply.)
Irene says:
Who cares about consequences, he thought- I’m not in the market for a wife, I just need to get laid.
July 14, 2014 — 8:59 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Ooh, I bet those consequences come back to bite him in the ass at some point!
You should probably use the ol’ question mark after ‘consequences’ instead of a comma, and then use a comma instead of a hyphen to allow the second part of the monologue to resume more smoothly.
Other than that, it reads well.
July 14, 2014 — 4:45 PM
Andreah says:
Could you use a different word than “dilapidated?” I sort of stumbled over it when I read it. And maybe a comma after “yellow door.” I really like your description, “lime-terraced rooftop.” Especially after describing someone bleeding. They’re both vivid colors.
July 14, 2014 — 9:04 AM
Melissa says:
WW1 story – in progress:
Before I would have told you I didn’t believe in such, but I watched a sick green cloud descend, and I saw death’s horsemen ride before it.
July 14, 2014 — 9:05 AM
mikes75 says:
I like the weight and the imagery, but using “before” twice seems awkward. Maybe lose “I saw” as well, and use “within?”
“Before I would have told you I didn’t believe in such, but I watched a sick green cloud descend, and death’s horsemen rode within it.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:02 PM
Melissa says:
Thanks for the feedback Mikes75
July 14, 2014 — 12:12 PM
Fi Phillips says:
I like the idea of this but it needs to be tightened.
July 14, 2014 — 1:59 PM
Melissa says:
Tighter version?
Before1915, I didn’t believe in such, but death’s horseman lead a putrid toxic cloud before my eyes.
July 14, 2014 — 2:33 PM
dacialene says:
Conversationally and reading it out loud, I feel a comma needs to be after “Before” … And I LOVE the sick green cloud descend (ew! great imagery!). How about … skipping straight from “descend” to “and death’s horsemen rode before it.” Before, I would have told you I didn’t believe in such – but I watched a sick green cloud descend and death’s horsemen rode before it.
July 14, 2014 — 7:51 PM
Jess West says:
Suggested Revision:
***I’d never believed in such, but a sick green cloud descended and death’s horsemen rode before it.***
I’ve only been writing since last April and am no expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I do enjoy trading crits, so here I am. 🙂
I recommend cutting filter words such as ‘watched’ and ‘saw’. If the narrator of a piece doesn’t experience the events, then they shouldn’t be included in the narrative. It then stands to reason that if events are included in a narrative, it is because the narrator experienced them. Pointing that much out is unnecessary.
Cut ‘before’ entirely. Keep perfect past in the beginning of the sentence to delineate that the disbelief occurred before the described event, which is told in past tense. Doing so cues the reader without the word before, rendering it superfluous.
Unless the whole story (synopsis, blurb, what-have-you) is told in second person pov, or this is a line of dialogue, cut ‘you’.
Again, I’m no expert and there are reasons to counter the advice I’ve given, depending on the circumstances of the story. Based on this sentence alone, and knowing nothing more of the story behind it, I believe the sentence can and should be tightened as I’ve set forth above.
I do hope I’ve been at least somewhat helpful. The best part about advice of any kind is that you can take what’s useful and toss the rest.
Cheers,
Jess
July 14, 2014 — 10:17 PM
Melissa says:
Great advice!! Awesome Blossom B-)
July 15, 2014 — 8:43 AM
Sara Crow says:
Kinda cheating by adding a second sentence, but it’s only for context. The longer sentence is where I’m really seeking feedback. There are a couple things I trip over here, but I really like the imagery. For even more context, she’s in a mortuary.
“This place at night is a sanctuary to death. A way station between above and below with a stillness that shimmers like the air after a chime is rung, and this penetrating silence is one of the best parts of the day.”
July 14, 2014 — 9:32 AM
J. Lannan (@jLannan) says:
The content is good, but I think the second sentence is a little too long. I would suggest getting rid of “and,” making “This penetrating silence is one of the best parts of the day.” into a new sentence.
July 14, 2014 — 12:10 PM
Sara Crow says:
I LIKE that. I’m always a fan of shorter sentences in this type of description because each period implies its own moment of silence between the sentences. Thank you!
July 14, 2014 — 1:49 PM
dacialene says:
Agreed. “This penetrating silence …” needs it’s own aplomb. Read it out loud to yourself. You’ll feel those pauses.
July 14, 2014 — 7:55 PM
Fi Phillips says:
It’s actually not two sentences as the second sentence doesn’t stand as a sentence on its own. It would have to start ‘It is’ for it to be a sentence. Having said that, I like your imagery. It needs to be cut down into several shorter sentences which would suggest a pause between each one, like the pause you take at a way station. Good writing.
July 14, 2014 — 2:02 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
Once you fix the second sentence, this is the kind of writing that is fluid and beautiful. Love.
July 14, 2014 — 2:28 PM
Sara Crow says:
Thanks! I tweaked two sentences into three, though I think maybe the break at the semicolon could be strengthened into a full stop. I just have to figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t feel like you’re slamming into a closed patio door.
“This place at night is a sanctuary for death; a way station between above and below. The cavernous room is heavy with a stillness that shimmers like the air after a chime is rung. The silence is the best part of the day.”
July 14, 2014 — 2:37 PM
Sara Crow says:
Nope nope nope. Now I have two “The” sentences. How about…
“This place at night is a sanctuary for death, a way station between above and below. The atmosphere is heavy with a stillness that shimmers like a chime has just rung. Its silence is the best part of the day.”
Eeeeh. I’ll continue tweaking.
July 14, 2014 — 2:42 PM
Amber says:
Some beautiful stuff here. I’m wondering how silence and stillness can be like a ringing chime though? Perhaps you mean the silence after a chime has rung, the after-sound moment. Somehow clarifying that imagery would serve you well here and really hit the reader dead in the heart.
July 16, 2014 — 11:19 AM
R. Dale Guthrie says:
While you may really want to establish that it’s only at night that the place is a sanctuary for death, the sentence starts out stronger without “at night”. Try it. You can always contrast it in another sentence with whatever it is by day.
The second sentence feels a little overwritten still. Maybe cut it down and replace the chime metaphor with something that glitters, rather than something that rings. “The still night air shimmers like diamond dust…” or something like that.
July 16, 2014 — 5:22 PM
Alecia says:
Here is a short one I am currently sing to end a scene:
His hair bristles as her lips slowly turn up in a grin.
July 14, 2014 — 9:37 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Great. I understand what you mean.
July 14, 2014 — 2:02 PM
dacialene says:
His hair? like on his head or on his arms? I LOVE when suspenseful pieces are in present tense. So much the greater the challenge. I’m interested to know what’s happening here.
July 14, 2014 — 7:57 PM
Sara Crow says:
What an image! VERY nice idea.
A few things to look at.
Drop “in such” before the first comma, and add a comma after “Before.”
Swap out the “Death’s horsemen” to lead the second half of the sentence, since it makes more of a BANG.
I’d also think of a synonym for “sick green.” Maybe “putrid.”
Consider redundancies, too. You’re the eyewitness, so the reader knows that you watched it happen.
“…but Death’s horsemen rode in on the leading edge of a putrid green cloud.”
Those are my first thoughts. You might even be able to tighten it a little more from there.
July 14, 2014 — 9:44 AM
Melissa says:
I like putrid or toxic – or maybe both. Ha!
July 14, 2014 — 4:00 PM
Sara Crow says:
“Putrid” is one of those words that makes your stomach feel exactly the way it is defined. Blergh.
I think I’d stick with one or the other to keep from seeming redundant…maybe keep toxic filed in your brain for the description of the cloud later on…like as it’s breathed.
July 14, 2014 — 4:23 PM
Robe says:
(Name of the club — The Heart of Darkness)
Squinting his eyes and drawing blanks for thirty seconds, I remember that night in a club in Phnom Penh that maintained fresh “ganja” in tobacco tins, along with rolling papers right on the bar.
July 14, 2014 — 9:55 AM
Southpaw says:
I’m a little confused he squinted by you are remembering. I don’t think you need to put ganja in quotes. That sentence make me think the person is a Jamaican in Cambodia. If that is correct, no problem. In not, you might consider a different word. —Although in context with the rest of the paragraph that all might makes sense! 😛
July 14, 2014 — 1:33 PM
Melissa says:
Thanks! Yeah – leading with death’s horseman is more vivid.
July 14, 2014 — 10:16 AM
Sara Crow says:
No problem! I get the idea of giving the big whammy at the end, but I found myself wondering what there was to believe in a big, green cloud. 😉
I hope you had a great time describing Death’s horsemen in the following sentence!
July 14, 2014 — 10:18 AM
Southpaw says:
But ending with death’s horseman might have more impact. …and riding though I saw death’s horsemen.
July 14, 2014 — 1:26 PM
Melissa says:
Tighter version?
Before1915, I didn’t believe in such, but death’s horseman lead a putrid toxic cloud before my eyes.
July 14, 2014 — 2:39 PM
dacialene says:
I like “sick green cloud” … simplicity sometimes speaks stronger … Ay, the alliteration. And to agree with Southpaw, ending with death’s horsemen has more impact – it’s more poetic somehow.
July 14, 2014 — 8:07 PM
Carlo Rossi says:
“SHOVE IT IN MY ASS PETER!” she yelped, as I picked up the rusty machete.
July 14, 2014 — 10:19 AM
Southpaw says:
I like this, all but the word yelped. It seems weaker than the words themselves imply. If that makes sense.
July 14, 2014 — 1:27 PM
brokensea says:
A yelp is a dog like sound of surprise – usually wordless. She yelled, shouted or otherwise demanded he shove it in her ass. You also don’t need to use all caps.
July 14, 2014 — 5:28 PM
dacialene says:
Don’t forget a comma …. “ass, Peter!”
July 14, 2014 — 8:08 PM
Ashley says:
My current WIP.
Laughter cracked in the voice as the shadowy form stepped forward from the corner of the room.
July 14, 2014 — 10:24 AM
Rose_Red says:
I like the restraint of not knowing yet what was hidden by shadow. Nice resonance.
July 14, 2014 — 6:36 PM
Ashley says:
Thanks ^.^
July 17, 2014 — 2:12 PM
Amber says:
The tip of his thumb rubbed the handle protruding from his holster, a habit from training that lingered after all these years, rubbing and rubbing so that a small blister of worn finish shined like a mirror.
July 14, 2014 — 10:43 AM
Southpaw says:
Great imagery. I immediately want to read the next sentence.
July 14, 2014 — 1:36 PM
Sara Crow says:
I LOVE this. Great image, great way to keep the reader engaged. That “mirror” image can even be played with in the following sentence if it reflects something he doesn’t like about himself.
July 14, 2014 — 2:49 PM
Amber says:
That’s what I was going for, thank you for noticing 🙂
July 16, 2014 — 11:21 AM
dacialene says:
“a habit lingering after all those years” (‘These’ sounds present tense. And if we know the character already, the ‘from training’ part is unnecessary.) And is the “blister” on his thumb or the gun? Can a gun handle blister?
July 14, 2014 — 8:11 PM
Amber says:
Good points. Regarding whether a gun handle can blister or not, I tend to consider this a bit of poetic license to work in some characterization…
July 16, 2014 — 11:41 AM
Christopher says:
Jon watched dry-eyed as they lowered his oldest friend into the earth, and knew he would never be rid of the loneliness, it had settled too deep, like a cancer burrowing into his bones, gnawing at his soul.
July 14, 2014 — 11:14 AM
jrupp25 says:
Really nice. I wonder if it should be two sentences. Thinking out loud: like a cancer gnawing at his soul…might be simpler? Gooder?
July 14, 2014 — 12:14 PM
R. Dale Guthrie says:
I agree. Maybe end with “like a cancer burrowing into his soul.”
July 16, 2014 — 5:28 PM
Allison Forsythe says:
Agree — really nice, but I would also suggest breaking it into two sentences: “Jon watched dry-eyed as they lowered his oldest friend into the earth, knowing that he would never be rid of the loneliness. It had settled too deep, like a cancer burrowing into his bones, gnawing at his soul.” Maybe?
For some reason, I don’t like “dry-eyed”…you might be able to address the lack of tears in another way (possibly in a different sentence or place), especially if it’s important to address. Is it a refusal of tears? An inability to cry because he’s overwhelmed? Is it just not in the character’s nature, even though we’re talking about his oldest friend?
July 14, 2014 — 9:14 PM
Christopher says:
Hey, thanks for the feedback, everybody!
July 22, 2014 — 8:58 AM
Arthur Butt says:
She sat, sprang to her feet, hesitated, and checked the sky.
July 14, 2014 — 11:15 AM
thesexiestwriter says:
That’s a lot for someone (or something) to do in one sentence. Might work better if she sat in a previous sentence, then sprang to her feet and hesitated in this one?
July 14, 2014 — 12:23 PM
dacialene says:
Agreed. Context would benefit a commentary. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 8:13 PM
Rose_Red says:
I want to know what she is watching for (waiting for?) in the sky.
July 14, 2014 — 6:37 PM
Sara Crow says:
I actually really like the dichotomy between the character’s strength and her resulting fragility. Adds dimension. However, you need a comma after “behind.” You also can kill “to one side” and “endless” to streamline it a bit (it’ll increase the impact of the sentence to drop the extraneous words). You might also get away with removing “shoulders slumped,” because the simile relays the image nicely enough without added physical references.
So it would be: “Leaving the chaos behind, she stopped at the peak of the hill, leaning like a flower kissed by winter.”
Yeah, I like that. Drives your simile home.
July 14, 2014 — 11:19 AM
Laramie Bahr says:
Here’s another sentence from ‘Old Soldiers’:
It would be then, as these self styled hard cases were running about, eyes wide with fear and shock as their fellows were swallowed up by the very trees around them, that he and his men would show them what it really meant to be killers.
July 14, 2014 — 11:33 AM
dacialene says:
It would be then, as these self-styled hard cases ran about with eyes wide in fear and shock watching their fellows swallowed up by the trees (what kind?) around them (have the trees been mentioned in the context? if so, then “around them” could be unnecessary), that he and his men would show what it meant to be killers.
July 14, 2014 — 8:20 PM
in other words says:
I watched and watched for him in the blowing wind that howled her words.
July 14, 2014 — 12:01 PM
dacialene says:
I’d love context here. The blowing wind that howled her words. I love this. Love this. This is a nice sentence … I want to know what it means! 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 8:22 PM
Monica Postma says:
I liked the alliterative quality of this sentence, but it’s a little awkward. Maybe just switch it around to something more like “The blowing wind howled her words as I watched for him and watched for him.”
Also, since I’m picky, I might try to find a synonym for either ‘blowing’ or ‘howled’ because the repetitive w’s is artful and alliterative at the beginning of words, when there are repeated w’s in the middle of words, I find it distracting. But that’s more of a personal thing on my part.
July 14, 2014 — 8:29 PM
jrupp25 says:
After what seemed like a long…long…time, Billie reasoned; it hadn’t attacked yet and if it was going to attack, there was little she could do to defend herself, so better to face death squarely and have it over with quickly than to cower like this indefinitely.
July 14, 2014 — 12:10 PM
Laramie Bahr says:
Good sentence. You don’t need the comma after ‘attack’ and maybe too many words too close together that end in ‘-ly’. Try something like, ‘…than to simply cower like a quivering mouse.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:49 PM
Melissa says:
I like the scene. Maybe tighten up the wording a little?
After what seemed like infinity, Billie reasoned there was little she could do to defend herself when the attack came – far better to face death straight on with honor.
PS: I have one on here too – feel free to comment.
July 14, 2014 — 3:58 PM
dacialene says:
Agreed. Even to end with “far better to face death than to cower …” I love that there are so many ways to say a thing with words.
July 14, 2014 — 8:26 PM
Paul D says:
Nicely put. I agree with the “-ly” thing. Seems a bit much.
July 14, 2014 — 11:17 PM
thesexiestwriter says:
“What you have just seen is the beginning of an immense library of pornography and temptation that froths out of America like puss out of a festering wound.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 PM
Sara Crow says:
I LIKE THIS. Especially as a first sentence (I don’t know if it is), because it makes me want to know the context of this statement. Usually quotes don’t work at the beginning of a story, but THIS one would make me dive right in.
July 14, 2014 — 1:51 PM
dacialene says:
Yes! the perfect use for the word “froths” … not sure this could be any more graphically gross. Love it.
July 14, 2014 — 8:31 PM
colinjkeats says:
minor thing: the excretion from a wound is pus, not puss.
July 15, 2014 — 1:14 AM
thesexiestwriter says:
Thank you, Mr. Douglass Adams, I did not know that. Nothing is a minor thing when trying to impress an agent/publisher.
July 15, 2014 — 12:14 PM
Herman Martin says:
WIP….The AC was off, the heater was off, the outside temperature was in the nineties and inside it was thirty below zero.
July 14, 2014 — 1:00 PM
travishall456 says:
I like this, but it feels a bit wordy. Do you really need to say “below zero” or could you just say “thirty below”? Regardless, very intriguing, makes me immediately want to know why this is happening.
July 14, 2014 — 2:05 PM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Hmm. This would probably mean more to me if we used the Fahrenheit temperature scale here. Alas, although I’m vaguely aware that ‘in the nineties’ is pretty toasty, thirty below zero has no context for me. It would be more useful to have something to visualise, such as ice forming on the glass of the window (does ice do that at thirty below zero? I dunno.)
Also, if I wasn’t so familiar with American terminology, I wouldn’t know what AC was. Unless you’re writing in-character, you might want to consider rephrasing slightly for a more international audience (would air-con be more acceptable, if saying air-conditioning outright doesn’t fit well?) The more accessible your descriptions are, the easier people will find it to read, and the more enjoyment they’ll get from it.
I do like the metre and pacing of your sentence, just wish I could have a more accurate picture in my head.
July 14, 2014 — 4:55 PM
brokensea says:
It’s telling – not showing. What does “30 below zero” mean? On what scale? Show us the ice forming on the eyelashes, the misting breath the succumbing to hypothermia – the importance of the temperature needs to be visualised – not a technical read out.
July 14, 2014 — 5:26 PM
dacialene says:
Agreed. I tell my students not to tell me it’s hot outside but that they fried an egg on the sidewalk.
July 14, 2014 — 8:32 PM
travishall456 says:
When it first encounters a dog, a kitten instinctively knows, somewhere deep down inside its little, soft, furry kitty heart, that the only recourse is action and unleashes a death hiss while bearing its tiny claws with the battle cry, “You want some of this, motherfucker!”.
July 14, 2014 — 2:07 PM
john freeter says:
I liked the sentence, it was unexpected and funny. I’m wondering if the cat’s hissing and crying out at the same time though, which seems odd. Maybe “unleashes a death hiss before bearing (baring?) its tiny claws with the battle cry, “You want some of this, motherfucker!?”
July 14, 2014 — 6:49 PM
Tracie Keamy says:
I really love this. It’s so funny and unexpected, but maybe shorten it. ie: ‘When it first encounters a dog, a soft, little kitty knows its only recourse is to bear its claws and unleash a death hiss, “You want some of this, motherfucker?”
July 15, 2014 — 9:54 AM
Rose_Red says:
The alarm clock assaults my ears like a hungry dog on a bone, relentless and without mercy.
July 14, 2014 — 6:49 PM
john freeter says:
The creature kept staring at me, challenging me to rescue its helpless victim.
July 14, 2014 — 6:49 PM
Griffin Stiles says:
I like the idea of this. Even without context, I have the image of some fantastical beast, eyes locked on yours, daring you to make the first move.
That said, the sentence itself could do better to bring the feeling of urgency. The word ‘kept’ leapt out at me as odd, in particular. ‘Kept’ implies the glare to be sustained. How long has it been glaring at you? Is it a very slow creature? Unless the situation is such that time is not a factor, you might consider swapping ‘kept’ out for a more immediate or tense word or phrase. Or just be rid of it altogether. There were a few similarly lax words like ‘rescue’ and ‘stare.’ Something staring at you isn’t inherently odd or tense while this seems like a rather tense situation.
What about, “The creature glared at me, a silent challenge to reclaim its struggling prey.”
Or, if you want to deviate a bit, “Malice radiated from the creatures gaze as its victim struggled helplessly.”
You just need to add a bit more emotion. A bit more energy.
Good start, though.
July 14, 2014 — 8:12 PM
dacialene says:
The creature glared at me, challenging me to rescue its helpless victim. (I’m piggy-backing off of Griffin Stiles. Glared gives the feeling of ‘kept staring’.) I like the simplicity of your sentence – I think Earnest Hemingway when something can be stark of words and still full of scene.
July 14, 2014 — 8:37 PM
Susan says:
I like it but kept seems out of place. I think it would be more powerful if you tried the creature stared at me, challenging me….
July 14, 2014 — 8:39 PM
john freeter says:
Thank you for your comments, I’m glad that my sentence caught your interest. It’s an ending sentence rather than an opening sentence, though, so the creature has been around for a few seconds while my MC briefly describes what it looks like (it’s the first time she encounters one of them).
July 16, 2014 — 12:07 AM
dacialene says:
Images from the black and white version of the movie played in her mind, though instead of Laurence Olivier’s face, Henry’s sat on those shoulders that carried Cathy across the moors.
July 14, 2014 — 7:48 PM
Melissa says:
I see this clearly but one question…what movie?
July 15, 2014 — 8:47 AM
dacialene says:
Wuthering Heights. Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier. My favorite, so naturally, my character’s favorite as well … she’s looking for her Heathcliff.
July 15, 2014 — 11:28 AM
Amber Seree says:
Loved this instantly! Great theme, great imagery. It is something I could immediately identify with, even though I don’t particularly care for Wuthering Heights, the longing that this person has for Henry is shown plainly. The only thing I might actually critique is the string “black and white version of the movie” somehow my “word-nerd” wants something more romantic.
July 16, 2014 — 6:34 PM
Susan says:
WIP – It was one thing to be living by myself, but here I was lying in bed afraid to get up, afraid the darkness wasn’t just a power outage with a new moon hampering any possible ray of light.
July 14, 2014 — 7:58 PM
Griffin Stiles says:
From a story of survival in the ancient Nordic wastes,
“A rebellious blot of black ink on an otherwise white page, Skald forged his way through the snow and the ice.”
July 14, 2014 — 8:00 PM
Eleanore Trupkiewicz says:
Excellent imagery here. I’ve always appreciated metaphors. The tone of this sentence sounds very literary novel, if that’s what you’re going for, and I like that, especially the repetition of “through the snow and the ice” (extra emphasis with the second use of the article “the”). It’s effective.
On the other side of the aisle is the discussion about whether the sentence is supposed to be from Skald’s point-of-view (POV). If so, is he literary-minded enough to think that metaphor about himself? Is that something that anyone would typical stop and think about himself/herself?
If you’ve established a more omniscient third-person POV for your work in progress, the sentence is evocative as is. If you’re trying to write strictly from Skald’s POV, or even in deep POV from his perspective, just make sure Skald would actually think that (e.g., “I must look like a rebellious blot of black ink on an otherwise white page”) about himself in the course of the story and the consistency of his character.
July 14, 2014 — 8:23 PM
Eleanore Trupkiewicz says:
“If he was going for concerned, he missed by a city block.”
July 14, 2014 — 8:18 PM
dacialene says:
Bravo. Snarky. Simple. Blunt. I like it.
July 14, 2014 — 8:39 PM
Eleanore Trupkiewicz says:
Appreciate it!
July 14, 2014 — 8:44 PM
T Keamy says:
Yep. Works for me.
July 16, 2014 — 10:05 AM
Monica Postma says:
**Supposed to be my WIP but I’m actually suffering from Shiny New Idea Syndrome right now and writing two other stories, but neither of those first sentences make sense without the sentences around them**
When in first became obvious that my parents weren’t coming home that night, I was happy.
July 14, 2014 — 8:35 PM
Melissa says:
“Shiny New Idea Syndrome” OMG – love the expression!!!
July 15, 2014 — 8:48 AM
Jess West says:
Three days after they’d hung her for the brutal massacre of a group of teens out at Red River Ridge, Catherine Cartwright rose from her grave.
From Red River Rangers by Jessica West, a Western Horror Novelette in its third revision.
July 14, 2014 — 10:19 PM
Hannah says:
My only question is where this falls in the novelette–it reads like a first sentence and if it is, I’m wondering who “they” are. Otherwise, it’s great–rising from the dead always packs a good punch.
July 17, 2014 — 10:16 AM
Jess West says:
This sentence comes at the end of the first scene. It’s available to read for free, if you’re interested. The only thing that I’m worried about, now that you’ve mentioned it, is that “they” aren’t mentioned prior to this sentence. The reader does find out who “they” are, but not until she… oh wait, that would be a spoiler. 😉
Should I specify who hung her? Like so:
Three days after Sheriff Roberts hung her for the brutal massacre of a group of teens out at Red River Ridge, Catherine Cartwright rose from her grave.
Thanks,
Jess
July 17, 2014 — 5:05 PM
Hannah says:
If it’s going to spoil the something later on I think you could leave it ambiguous—its the two pronouns “they” followed by “her” that distract me for some reason–probably because I’m immediately wondering who they both are.
I like the addition of the Sheriff in your revised sentence, if that’s too much of a giveaway, I’d say you could try:
Three days after they hung Catherine Cartwright for the brutal massacre of a group of teens out at Red River Ridge, she rose from her grave.
But, I think ending the sentence with Catherine’s name is more effective.
July 17, 2014 — 11:16 PM
brokensea says:
“hanged her” is the correct verb. Pictures are hung, people are hanged.
July 17, 2014 — 5:17 PM
brokensea says:
Edit – “hanged” is the prefefred verb.
“Hanged, as a past tense and a past participle of hang, is used in the sense of “to put to death by hanging,” as in Frontier courts hanged many a prisoner after a summary trial. A majority of the Usage Panel objects to hung used in this sense. In all other senses of the word, hung is the preferred form as past tense and past participle, as in I hung my child’s picture above my desk.
(The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition, 2000)
July 17, 2014 — 5:22 PM
Jess West says:
Thanks!
July 17, 2014 — 7:22 PM
colinjkeats says:
“Sh’si-i-ing!” It was a hissing and ringing, sighing and whispering noise, like the drawing of a sword from a scabbard as it lay in a pile of dry autumn leaves.
July 14, 2014 — 10:53 PM
R.R. Speights says:
Your imagery here is good. I hear the sound in my head. I would make the verb more active, though.
July 15, 2014 — 2:18 AM
Kris says:
This morning was five text messages, five phone calls, coffee, and Joe my dog in and out, fed and adored by 10 a.m. sort of day. I woke up at 9 a.m. Teaching job offer was a phone call, dog care person a text. Oh, yah, I have writing class tonight. Friend, text and phone call, was dismayed I had a class and couldn’t play tonight. Sunny day, cool in the house, writing, thinking, and focused on getting everything done. Hungry now. Need food. Really need food. Hard to think during stomach madness. And yet I let the dog out and in, again. Nice to have contact from expensive phone. Apparently for $80/month I can be called, texted, or emailed and connect with someone. The adult kids text, rarely call. Friends call, thankfully. iPhone is too expensive but I cannot part with it. Now can I get some food? If someone loved me, really, they would drop food off now! Love won’t work right now. Get up and open the fridge. Done.
Ok it is more than a sentence…..
July 14, 2014 — 10:54 PM
awkwardtreed says:
There is a man in a Boba Fett mask following me around the city and I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me.
July 14, 2014 — 11:18 PM
Cal says:
Awesome sentence and more than a little intriguing.
July 15, 2014 — 6:58 AM
RenataB says:
I like this but I had to Google “Boba Fett mask” as I had no idea what it was. Depending on the genre of your story and your readers, they may already be familiar with it. Would this be common knowledge to them? You still have me hooked though! I would want to read more.
July 15, 2014 — 10:24 AM
dacialene says:
As a Star Wars fanatic … LOVE this.
July 15, 2014 — 11:30 AM
Sydney Gael says:
My current WIP:
He loved her, but he always managed to find a way make an exit, and she wondered again what it was about her that made it so easy for people to leave.
July 15, 2014 — 12:04 AM
Sydney Gael says:
I can’t type tonight to save my life:
He loved her, but he always managed to find a way to make an exit, and she wondered again what it was about her that made it so easy for people to leave.
July 15, 2014 — 12:12 AM
antipelican says:
I don’t see anything particularly wrong with this sentence, besides the fact it’s kind of bland. He loves her? Then he wouldn’t be leaving her. She’s just sitting around wondering why people always leave her? Sounds like a dull wench. She should be out chasing them down and roping them back in, spraying personality all over the place…right, weird mind images, whatever. Point is, I read this sentence and just don’t. care. at. all. about either he nor she. Give ’em some spice. If he does really love her, is there a reason he’s leaving?
July 15, 2014 — 10:06 AM
Sydney Gael says:
Thank you antipelican, for the feedback. That line is the last sentence of a chapter, and without the context of the paragraph description *which is basically guy swoops in and out of her life when it’s convenient for him* the line is terribly bland. Not a good stand alone sentence.
July 18, 2014 — 9:11 PM
R.R. Speights says:
“Keep your sweat to yourself, Beej.”
July 15, 2014 — 2:47 AM
antipelican says:
Best first sentence in the history of the English language. Carry on.
July 15, 2014 — 10:07 AM
Simon B says:
I’ve had a lot of trouble finishing what I’ve started over the past few months, so maybe this will help motivate me a little. From a WIP:
It was the sort of darkness that draped over drainpipes and curled around corners, the sort that made dally-nots and double-lockers of honest folk.
July 15, 2014 — 5:02 AM
Cal says:
Like it. Often descriptions of darkness can be generic , but portraying it as this all consuming mass that drapes itself over things and curls round corners is fresh and interesting. I would probably have repeated the word darkness – ‘the sort of darkness that made dally-nots and double-lockers of honest folk’ – for effect, but then I have been accused of overkill before. . .
P.S. What is a dally-not? Never heard it before but it’s a damn cool sounding term!
July 15, 2014 — 7:06 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Folks who don’t dally, I believe.
July 15, 2014 — 11:54 AM
Simon B says:
Spot on. And thank you both for the kind words.
July 16, 2014 — 3:55 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
I quite like this. Not sure I’d change a thing at all.
July 15, 2014 — 11:55 AM
T Keamy says:
I’m not from America so ‘dally-nots’ and ‘double-lockers’ are alien terms, but I still get this wonderful image. What I do love (and understand) is ‘honest-folk’ and all of it combined with ‘darkness that draped over drainpipes and curled around corners’ makes me hope that you will, indeed, find the motivation to finish this WIP.
July 17, 2014 — 9:14 AM
Simon B says:
I’m not from America, either! Thank you for the feedback and encouragement.
July 17, 2014 — 5:29 PM
MiliM says:
James Cox walked through his front door, his face stuck in the daily paper, and instinctively veered to sidestep the pile of old newspapers he kept forgetting to recycle
July 15, 2014 — 7:03 AM
RenataB says:
I like this–very visual and I get an immediate sense of the character.
July 15, 2014 — 10:18 AM
Rose_Red says:
I agree with RenataB, it’s interesting how much you can imagine about a person from action rather than describing.
I have had a box in the back seat of my car to deliver across town, should I be across town, for 2 weeks now. I had to laugh at his forgetting to put out the recycling.
July 15, 2014 — 12:03 PM
T Keamy says:
This is great. I love James Cox from the moment he walks through his front door. I’d probably lose ‘veered’ and keep it ‘…instinctively sidestepped the pile of old newspapers…’
July 16, 2014 — 10:36 AM
Aline Viana says:
My first line is: “The iron wicket gate guarding the entrance to the manor house believed and fulfilled its role of guarding the couple and the child”.
Sidney Gael, your selected portion (“He loved her, but he always managed to find a way to make an exit, and she wondered again what it was about her that made it so easy for people to leave”), I believe could be nicer if she wonder about an especific thing that make people leave her alone, even something a little weird like her taste for Bryan Adams songs, would be funny and inspire the reader keep up with your story.
July 15, 2014 — 8:28 AM
antipelican says:
A wicket is a smaller gate or door, generally next to the main gate. Is this what you meant?
It can add interest, anthropomorphizing objects, but it doesn’t always flow smoothly because it’s an unexpected construct to have gates believing in things.
Maybe your sentence could use some tightening, something like (and this is just a suggestion, so feel free to ignore it) –
“The iron gate guarded the entrance to the manor house, with only one mission: to protect the family within.”
And then, that begs the question…why does this couple and child need protection? What are they hiding from?
July 15, 2014 — 10:16 AM
Aline Viana says:
Thank you!!!
So, I have written this text in portuguese, so I used google translate because I was at my job with just a couple minutes to my own, so maybe if I have done it by myself it could be better written. But, you really helped me!
That “small gate” it’s identical as the ones used in old houses, from the 50’s or even olders. It belongs to a house where a couple has a secret library, where anyone could order forbidden books at the time of brazilian dictatorship, on the early 70’s. If they were unmasked, police would torture them to discover who were their clients and more information about other suspects.
July 17, 2014 — 7:53 AM
Simon B. says:
I like this a lot and I think it works really rather well as an opener. It’s just a few words of dialogue, but I already have quite a vivid image in my mind. Beej doesn’t mind sharing and he’s clearly familiar with the speaker, who isn’t *quite* so keen…
July 15, 2014 — 9:07 AM
Simon B. says:
Damn, thsi was supposed to be in reply to R.R. Speights, above. Thwarted once again by a simple form.
July 15, 2014 — 9:08 AM
RenataB says:
She knew this wedding reception was her chance to reconnect and she prayed to every God that she knew that this wasn’t her last and only chance.
July 15, 2014 — 10:17 AM
Hannah says:
This is an interesting sentence content wise but it could be cleaned up once you remove some repetitions. I assume in context we know who the reconnection refers to? By removing the repeated words “knew” and “chance” you’ll make the sentence flow better. Something along these lines, perhaps:
She knew this wedding reception was her chance to reconnect and she prayed to every God she could think of that it wouldn’t be her last.
July 17, 2014 — 10:14 AM
RenataB says:
Thanks Hannah–great observation and very helpful. Yes, within the context of the story whom the reconnection refers to is clear. I appreciate your suggestion!
July 17, 2014 — 4:18 PM
antipelican says:
Ok friends, I’ve left a few critiques. Now it’s your turn to get back at me. Have a go at this, from my WIP-that-is-turning-enormous:
“She wished violently and suddenly that she could crawl back into her little black coffin and go to sleep and wake up a thousand years in the future, and when she woke again there would be glittering towers and flying cars and technological marvels instead of just this great vast stinking world of water and mud, disease and radiation.”
July 15, 2014 — 10:18 AM
Monica Postma says:
I like this. I immediately wonder why she what happened that she wishes to basically disappear from life, until, as she suggests, the world has gotten it’s shit together. The mention that she has a little black coffin suggests she could be a vampire… that’s just my assumption.
July 15, 2014 — 10:57 AM
Avalyn Doyle says:
I fine the conjunction of suddenly and violently awkward and I think the rhythm would improve if there was a full stop after sleep. Suggestion: with a violence that scared her she suddenly wished she could. ……..’ followed by ‘ Waking in a thousand years freed from mud etc
July 15, 2014 — 7:55 PM
antipelican says:
“With a violence that came on her suddenly, she wished she could crawl back into that little black coffin and go to sleep for a thousand years. And when she woke, the great vast stinking world would be freed from the mud and water, disease and radiation; glass spires would rise to the sun, and the sterility of technology would hold sway once again.”
Ugh, I don’t know. I liked “violently and suddenly” but agree that ‘freed from mud’ sounds better and that splitting it into two sentences is good. Thank you Avalyn! I am terrible at editing my own work, because I get too attached to little things that aren’t actually very good. Does anyone think this second version is any better than the first?
Also, Monica, calling it a coffin is only a metaphor. 😛 Sorry to disappoint on the vampire front.
July 16, 2014 — 4:50 AM
Simon B says:
You know, I rather like the first version. It seems more organic, as if she’s *really* pleading, desperately, for a better world. I know people that talk in almost-running sentences like that and I always imagine them thinking in the same way.
The only thing I’d change is the use of ‘violently’ – would ‘fervently’ be a better fit?
July 17, 2014 — 5:00 PM
Daisy says:
This is from a WIP, my first novel
James knocked until his knuckles bled and the stars started shining from their speckled dome.
July 15, 2014 — 10:24 AM
Rose_Red says:
That’s evocative. It must take a lot of knocking to make them bleed. I am confused about who’s dome that is. Is James bald and freckled?
July 15, 2014 — 12:04 PM
Daisy says:
Hmmm okay. I think (hopefully) from the context it is clear what the dome is, but I will still have a look at that. Thanks for the feedback!
July 15, 2014 — 8:25 PM
Amber Seree says:
I understood what the dome is. Just to let you know. I think at least: james kept knocking until his knuckles bled and night time fell…right? Kind of like saying, until the cows come home. At least that is how I read it. Good job, evocative.
July 16, 2014 — 6:39 PM
Tracie Keamy says:
Hog-tied back to back, they sat in the cramped compartment and listened to the sound of Biddy Jones grinding metal objects into sharp points.
July 15, 2014 — 10:25 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
It’s very hard to sit while hogtied. At best, a really awkward ‘kneeling’ can be managed. Instead, I suggest ‘laid’? Other than that — WHOA NELLY do I get a deep sense of ‘Uh-oh’ from this one. 😀
July 15, 2014 — 11:35 AM
Rose_Red says:
I held back the big sob until I got home, but my eyes were wet and my throat hurt like it did when I was a little girl and Dad was mad.
July 15, 2014 — 11:16 AM
T Keamy says:
This is good. Most of us should remember that feeling.
July 16, 2014 — 10:16 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
She paused to touch Nicholi’s face, and the Captain let her close the dead man’s eyes before he pulled her out the door, her shoes wet with blood, trailing prints outside.
July 15, 2014 — 11:55 AM
T Keamy says:
Very nicely done. With understated word choices you’ve managed to convey so much in one, relatively short sentence: tender imagery and the sense of tragedy and despair. If I were to change anything, I might rethink the first comma. (Being a reformed comma-junkie, I’m wary of them.) Other than that, congratulations. It’s a beautiful sentence.
July 16, 2014 — 9:03 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Wow, thank you! 😀
July 16, 2014 — 9:28 AM
Simon B says:
Powerful. You’ve quite deftly conveyed loss, compassion and urgency with just a few well chosen words. I’d love to read more.
I’d echo the sentiment about the first comma, though. Were I to make changes, I’d split this into two sentences:
‘She paused to touch Nicholi’s face. The Captain let her close the dead man’s eyes before he pulled her out the door, her shoes wet with blood, trailing prints outside.’
July 16, 2014 — 4:20 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Oh! That’s excellent — thank you!
July 16, 2014 — 8:13 PM
Laramie Bahr says:
Yet another sentence from ‘Old Soldiers’ since I have yet to receive a critique!:
Instead they would wait until the enemy had reached the line of defenses they had erected, then watch as these men, who believed themselves to be masters of their world, were turned into red paste by anti personnel mines, skewered on spikes of wood as the very earth opened up under their feet, and pinned like butterflies by carefully concealed stakes quivering with tension like hungry teeth just waiting for them come within reach.
July 15, 2014 — 9:00 PM
john freeter says:
First impression: That’s a long sentence. It probably needs to be chopped up, so each idea’s got enough room to breathe.
I really like the imagery of the enemy being slaughtered by the defenses, but I’m into that sort of thing, so take that as you will. You mention spike-based traps twice, which might be confusing though. Also, I don’t think that teeth get hungry (although it’s perfectly clear what you mean). I like it, but it’s a little complicated as it is.
Oh, and you mention mines and stakes being used. I assume there’s a reason why they use both high tech and low tech traps (like mine shortage), but it sounds weird just from your sentence.
July 16, 2014 — 12:03 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
So much going on here — the imagery is present, but the sentence is so packed, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Break it up and flesh it out, or take out a little to save for later; you’ll get better mileage out of it. Maybe something like:
Instead, they would wait until the enemy had reached the line of defenses they had erected. Then, they would watch as these men — falsely believing themselves masters of their world — were turned into red paste by anti-personnel mines, or pinned like butterflies on carefully-concealed stakes, the very earth opening up beneath them, a hungry maw full of sharp teeth, just waiting for them come within reach.
July 16, 2014 — 9:35 AM
Daryl Castro says:
I fell asleep seconds after injecting the chemicals through my veins.
July 16, 2014 — 9:06 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Pardon my pedantry, but: you inject chemicals into your veins, not through ’em. Stuff flows through your veins, but the needle goes in. Capisce?
July 16, 2014 — 9:38 AM
Amber Seree says:
Interesting context. I would like to see it though, rather than being told. Do the eyelids droop? Is s/he just blacking out, or is there any kind of progression happening. What do the chemicals feel like running *through* the veins, etc. I think this is an evocative start, but I’d like more. ! 🙂
July 17, 2014 — 11:19 PM
Daryl Castro says:
It’s actually on the book I’m trying to write this past few moths. But I can’t finish it for some reasons. English is not my native language so there’s still errors. But thanks to the comments. I appreciate it. 🙂
July 19, 2014 — 7:31 AM
Daryl Castro says:
The pain did not last long as the needle sank on my skin; pain is not the feeling I’m expecting to feel. I tried to follow where the chemicals would go on me. Looking for any signs, effects, or whatever. Then it happened.
Sorry again for wrong use of punctuations, grammars, etc. Still learning to write at my best.
July 19, 2014 — 8:34 AM
Amber Seree says:
I cheated, here is two sentences. From a noir thriller work in progress:
An eerie, haunting melody, carrying over the buildings and down through the streets. Words that infected the wind with their melancholy passion, soul spilling out from the strings of a guitar, a voice that transcended harmony into something much more complicated, blues.
July 16, 2014 — 6:29 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
You totally cheated. Neither of those are sentences. 😉
Seriously, though — I get where you’re going with it, but I feel like it’s a little overwrought, and I’m not sure about your tenses. What’s the sentence right before these ones?
(And the last word should be preceded by not a comma, but a colon or an em-dash, depending on how dramatic you want the revelation of the word ‘blues’ to be)
July 17, 2014 — 7:50 AM
Amber Seree says:
Geesh, critical. 🙂 Good advice Catastrophe, em dash is my usual thing, funny though, a professor crossed out all my em dashes in a short story once, traumatized me for life. The sentences leading up are:
Then he heard it. The most beautiful sound in the world. (it is a flashback)
I understand what you are saying about overwrought, and I’m actually glad you feel that way. The woman who is singing is a succubus, the man *is* overwrought, this is the meat of the story. But, that being said, I still want it to be readable. Thanks for the feedback.
July 17, 2014 — 11:11 PM
Hannah says:
This is (currently) the last sentence in a short story and feel like it’s too clunky.
He couldn’t know any of that as he sang until the tendons in his neck stood out and his heart felt like bursting, as he felt the familiar adrenaline rushing through him—the sensation that if he leapt high enough, he could fly.
July 17, 2014 — 10:10 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Make it two, perhaps?
He couldn’t know any of that, as he sang. The tendons in his neck stood out, and his heart felt like bursting; the familiar adrenaline rushed through him, as though–if he leapt high enough–he could fly.
July 17, 2014 — 2:24 PM
Hannah says:
I think it definitely needs to be split up. This is a good start–thank you!
July 17, 2014 — 11:14 PM
Jess West says:
I agree with Catastrophe’s suggestion, this is just a really long sentence. It does feel like a nice close, though; a good, solid, satisfactory ending. Based on this it feels like he’s accomplished something, and he’s feeling pretty great about it.
July 17, 2014 — 5:10 PM
Hannah says:
I’m having trouble conveying the overwhelming sensations without having the sentence itself be overwhelming–I think splitting it will help!
It’s actually part of a double ending where he doesn’t know at the moment that this is one of his last high points in a way–but I’m glad you got that impression from it, since in that moment he is feeling good.
July 17, 2014 — 11:17 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Here, I’ve got another one, for any of you who are still looking at this post. Here’s the last sentence of something I posted today. I’ve been putting up flash fiction bits that relate to a current WIP. I’m loving the world, and the general feel, but I’m not quite sure about the clarity/sharpness of this ending.
Instead, much to the horror of those who faced brother and sister across imaginary lines drawn against silver grass, the Autumn Queen’s voice was a howling command, bearing no justice, only revenge: “Kill them all!”
July 17, 2014 — 2:27 PM
Simon B says:
This has the potential to carry quite some weight, but the comma usage feels unwieldy and detracts from the impact a little. As a reader, I feel like I’m being drip-fed a dramatic conclusion instead of having it crash over me.
Context is everything – so I might be overstepping a little here – but how about splitting it up a little, like so:
Instead, to the horror of those who faced brother and sister across imagined lines in the silver grass, the Autumn Queen’s voice bore no justice. Her command was a bitter, vengeful howl.
“Kill them all!”
July 17, 2014 — 4:43 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Congratulations, you’re my new editor!
I love what you did with it.
I have a love affair (torrid and horrible) with exxxxxtra long, compound sentences — the more punctuation, the better. Parenthetical references, questionable uses of the em dash, toss in a sprinkling of semicolons, et voila!
July 17, 2014 — 6:01 PM
Amber Seree says:
Me too. 🙂 Feel your pain.
July 17, 2014 — 11:15 PM
T Keamy says:
I know this is not my sentence, but thanks anyway, Simon. This is a masterclass in editing and I’ll be applying this to my own work. The sentence went from really good to unforgettable – just like that!
July 17, 2014 — 10:28 PM
T Keamy says:
This is something I really hope to read one day.
July 17, 2014 — 10:34 PM