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.)
Paul D says:
Spark plugs and Aliens: “My life is full of doom and gloom, I don’t have time for aliens.”
July 13, 2014 — 10:04 PM
Laramie Bahr says:
I like.
July 13, 2014 — 10:11 PM
Paul D says:
Thank you.
July 13, 2014 — 10:24 PM
Jeff Ford says:
That aliens are inherently evil and will destroy the world is very stereotypical, but what the sentence does here is it gives that stereotype a clever, subtle jab. I love it.
July 13, 2014 — 10:12 PM
Paul D says:
Thank you. I love zombies and aliens are my weakness. I could destory worlds with them all day.
July 14, 2014 — 11:21 PM
SAM says:
It’s catchy. I don’t know where this line is in your story, but it has me hooked. I instantly want to know why your life is full of doom and gloom and why you are even concerned about having time for aliens. It’s tightly written and to the point, just as it should be.
July 13, 2014 — 10:40 PM
Paul D says:
Thank you kindly. It’s about a 3rd of the way into the book. It’s sorta a throwaway line that came out of nowhere.
July 14, 2014 — 11:24 PM
Kerr-Ann says:
Nice! It makes me want to know more.
July 13, 2014 — 10:40 PM
Paul D says:
ME TOO! Been a strange ride this story. Buncha false starts.
July 14, 2014 — 11:26 PM
Madison K says:
Tells us a lot about the speaker’s personality – that they consider aliens to be ‘doom and gloom.’ But….doom and gloom do not take up time, so that part feels a little like saying “My house is a mess, I don’t have time for aliens,” ie. its not clear how they relate to each other in a broader sense.
July 13, 2014 — 10:45 PM
birdonabird says:
I kind of like that it doesn’t make sense. It’s a juxtaposition – it doesn’t SEEM to make sense, so that makes me want to know more. So I mean, you’re right, but being ‘unclear’ makes me interested.
July 13, 2014 — 11:47 PM
Paul D says:
Haha. You sound like my editor. She even used the same example. Spooky.
July 14, 2014 — 11:28 PM
Madison K says:
Really? That’s too funny. Great minds think alike!
July 14, 2014 — 11:36 PM
Paul D says:
Indeed. Exact line. First I had to make sure you weren’t her.
July 14, 2014 — 11:39 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
Love the title. Such a succinct sentence, and yet it has a lot to give, the flavor of the book.
July 13, 2014 — 11:47 PM
Paul D says:
Thank you. It’s one of my more original titles.
July 14, 2014 — 11:31 PM
Amrita says:
Love it. My imagination starts to run the moment I read it. And SAM is right, it’s tight and concise.
I am trying to imagine the sentence if it was broken up in two with a period instead of a comma.
July 13, 2014 — 11:51 PM
Paul D says:
I totally cheated by adding the coma. The original phrase was two sentences. In the book two sentences. Here a coma. I’m gonna change it in the book. :/
July 14, 2014 — 11:38 PM
Sparky says:
I really like this one. Very catchy.
July 14, 2014 — 12:33 AM
Paul D says:
You’re too nice.
July 14, 2014 — 11:40 PM
Gabryyl Pierce says:
Awesome! Don’t change a thing.
July 14, 2014 — 1:29 AM
Paul D says:
I won’t. Thank you.
July 14, 2014 — 11:42 PM
Fi Phillips says:
Love it. Great rhythm.
July 14, 2014 — 5:57 AM
Paul D says:
Many thank yous!
July 14, 2014 — 11:47 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Semicolon! Also, I have no idea what sparkplugs have to do with Aliens, but now I *WANT* to know. Pessimistic mechanic whose town is invaded by little green men?
July 16, 2014 — 9:40 AM
Madison K says:
Here is a sentence from chapter 1 of my current work in progress: “Where the wolf had been a moment before, now a man lay naked in the dirt, matted hair hung over his face, one leg a mess of blood and torn tissue.”
July 13, 2014 — 10:06 PM
SAM says:
The length of the sentence is spot on for what you need it to do, which it actually does very well. I have a very clear picture in my head of the change this man just went through, and the fact that he is injured.
July 13, 2014 — 10:44 PM
brokensea says:
It seems a bit of a cliche. Man lying naked in the dirt is a werewolf.
I’d like to see the transformation, make it visceral and real. American Werewolf in London style of pain (everyone has the agony of becoming, but changing from wolf to man is always just a snap of the fingers).
It should be just as agonising as the character’s body warps and changes.
Unless it’s magic. You can get away with a lot if it’s magic.
July 13, 2014 — 10:47 PM
Madison K says:
1) its magic, 2) the POV character didn’t see the change happen. She was running away, something else injured the wolf, she heard the sounds of him changing and turned around to see the man where a wolf had been chasing her a moment before. But I see your point about it being cliche… hmmmm
July 13, 2014 — 10:49 PM
brokensea says:
If it is magic – then that is different. You can make your own rules with magic.
July 13, 2014 — 11:00 PM
Southpaw says:
Hum, if she didn’t see the change then maybe leave out the “Where the wolf had been a moment before, now” and just start with a naked man.
That sounds bad, but you know what I mean. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 1:42 PM
Sara Crow says:
I know so many stories that would be helped by beginning with a naked man. 😉
July 14, 2014 — 1:47 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
I like the length of the sentence it has a nice flow. At first I wondered if “a moment before” was necessary, but I could only tell that if I read what came before. Read it to yourself without that. What do you think?
July 13, 2014 — 11:51 PM
Madison K says:
Good point about ‘a moment before.’ My editor keeps pointing out those kinds of things in my other book as ‘filler’ that can be deleted. Probably the biggest thing I need to work at eliminating in my writing.
July 13, 2014 — 11:54 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
Same here, Madison! I have a lot of practice with fixing these types of problems in my work!
July 13, 2014 — 11:57 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I think this works very well.
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
Michael Henderson says:
I don’t think it’s cliche’ any more than saying that a vampire sucked blood is cliche’. That’s what they do.
I do, however, think it’s a sentence splice. It’s two sentences turned into one by using a comma where a period should be. Maybe that can be fixed by using “hanging” in place of “hung.”
Otherwise, I see nothing wrong with it technically, though I might fool with word order and word choice. A sentence Nazi might argue that the man in the sentence should come before the wolf. “A man lay naked in the dirt where a moment before had stood a wolf.” Then go into the matted hair bit.
July 14, 2014 — 3:45 AM
Jake Norton (@JakeTheHeathen) says:
It really makes me want to read more. Why is his leg messed up? What exactly happened. Great sentence.
July 14, 2014 — 4:29 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Creates a clear image but I think the sentence is too long. It would work better as ‘The wolf was gone’. Then ‘A man lay naked in the dirt…” and so on.
July 14, 2014 — 5:57 AM
Ashley says:
I really like the imagery here. I think you could leave out “torn” because if there’s a mess of blood and tissue, it’s rather obvious that it’s torn. Plus, the fact that we know he’s a werewolf will automatically give the reader the impression that the leg is mangled.
July 14, 2014 — 10:35 AM
Sara Crow says:
I’d actually make this two sentences, ending the first after “lay naked in the dirt.” The shorter sentences add power and variety that helps the rhythm of the phrasing.
July 14, 2014 — 10:38 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Considering the comments below, with this being magic and the POV char not getting to see the transformation — in context, I’m not sure I’d change a thing re: this sentence. Nicely done!
July 16, 2014 — 9:42 AM
Jeff Ford says:
Leaving the chaos behind she stopped at the peak of the hill, shoulders slumped, leaning to one side like a flower kissed by endless winter.
July 13, 2014 — 10:07 PM
Christopher says:
Hey Jeff, I think the phrase “a flower kissed by endless winter” is very beautiful, but it doesn’t feel right in this sentence. I don’t know who your character is, but she left chaos, climbed a hill, and slumped over like she’s exhausted or carrying some massive burden. She sounds like a badass. The flower seems too delicate. I love that you’re ending with a metaphor, and NOT saying she’s “tired” or “exhausted” or some lame adjective like that. I suggest using some sort of stronger metaphor to keep the badass image going, but that she’s at the end of her rope. Like “steel buckling” or “tree bowing” or something like that. I’m sure you’ll think of a better one. That’s my two cents. Hope it helped.
July 14, 2014 — 11:08 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Comma after behind. Also I don’t know as an endless winter does much kissing. I feel like it’d be more of a punch, yeah? Endless winters probably aren’t gentle, or nice. I get that the character escaping the chaos probably has that slumped, defeated, ‘ohhhh, I need a whisky’ thing going on, but I can’t tell if you’re going for a ‘brutalized’ feel, or a ‘just exhausted’ feel.
July 16, 2014 — 9:45 AM
Laramie L. Bahr says:
“These ain’t no criminals like that damn
television says, these are goddam genuine American heroes and if’n I catch you calling the law on
them I’ll shove that phone so far up your ass it’ll ring every time you fart.”
From “Old Soldiers”
July 13, 2014 — 10:09 PM
Laramie L. Bahr says:
“These ain’t no criminals like that damn
television says, these are goddam genuine American heroes and if’n I catch you calling the law on
them I’ll shove that phone so far up your ass it’ll ring every time you fart.”
From ‘Old Soldiers’
July 13, 2014 — 10:12 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Dialogue is ALWAYS FUN. 😀 Since you’re doing dialect, I suggest changing ‘them’ to ”em’, and dropping the ‘g’ off calling. Otherwise, I like it!
July 16, 2014 — 9:46 AM
SAM says:
The opening line of my current epic fantasy in progress: “Tribba stood at the window, her breath leaving condensation on the glass, as she watched a sand-covered man walk up the road.”
July 13, 2014 — 10:37 PM
Kerr-Ann says:
I like everything about this sentence, except “her breath leaving condensation on the glass.”
I THINK it would be a stronger opening line if you just said: “Tribba stood at the window, watching a sand-covered man walk up the road.” That makes me want to know what’s going on with this man. (BTW, unique and beautiful name).
July 13, 2014 — 10:44 PM
SAM says:
Thank you! It’s my favorite character name to date. She is one of my top 5 favorite characters, too.
July 15, 2014 — 8:47 AM
brokensea says:
There’s a nice sense of mystery to it (why is this sand-covered man walking up the road?)
The condensation on the glass strikes me as irrelevant to the scene.
July 13, 2014 — 10:44 PM
Madison K says:
I agree with brokensea – you could lose the part about the condensation and it would make a much tighter intro.
July 13, 2014 — 10:47 PM
David Wilson says:
I actually like the condensation part, it gives us a clue to how close to the window she is standing. (i.e. very close) Makes me wonder why she is standing so close.
July 14, 2014 — 12:18 AM
TonyR says:
The implication is that it’s to get a better look at the man, but I think that could be handled just as well in the following sentence. I do like that detail, I wouldn’t lose it entirely.
July 14, 2014 — 12:59 PM
David says:
I agree about the condensation being a good thing to drop (maybe just fogging the glass if anything). Sand-covered man is intriguing – my first thought was someone unnaturally covered in sand, like a sand monster. “Walk up the road” is ambiguous – if he’s approaching I’m scared, if he’s walking off to somewhere else I’m wondering if Tribba is steamed up for him.
July 13, 2014 — 11:13 PM
SAM says:
The rest of the paragraph describes the choice he has as he approaches, and why it is so important that he arrive on Tribba’s doorstep. Do you have a suggestion that would fit better, since all he is doing at that moment is walking up the road from the desert behind him (which is also mentioned in another sentence after this one.)
July 13, 2014 — 11:52 PM
Val says:
I like the breath on the glass, you know she’s very close to it and been there for a while.
July 13, 2014 — 11:16 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
Love it! Love the imagery of the breath on the glass, it brings to mind the proximity of Tribba to the glass that it was really something interesting that she was gazing at through the window. Love the idea of the sand-covered man and the logistics of what that might mean.
July 13, 2014 — 11:53 PM
familyfieldguide says:
If you are in close third-person POV, you don’t need to say “she watched.” If she’s at the window, and her breath is making condensation, it’s understood that she’s looking out. So I would not be afraid to make this into two sentences, perhaps just adjusting slightly to “show,” instead of “tell” more about the man’s character.
“Tribba stood at the window, her breath leaving condensation on the glass. Down the road, a sand-covered man trudged (hobbled, etc.) toward the house.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:33 AM
Dangerfield says:
You could even shorten that more – “Tribba’s breath left condensation on the window.”
July 14, 2014 — 10:20 AM
Avalyn Doyle says:
Hi Sam……..I love the picture of aloneness and intrigue this sentence sets up. A sand-covered man is a primal description for an epic fantasy. I don’t read many from that genre but feel the challenge of the unexpected.
July 14, 2014 — 2:15 AM
Michael Henderson says:
Tribba’s breath fogged the window, as she watched a sand-covered man walk up the road.
July 14, 2014 — 4:18 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Interesting opener. I think it might work better as 2 shorter sentences, leaving out the condensation on the glass (does it serve a purpose?).
July 14, 2014 — 5:55 AM
Amber says:
I agree with others that the middle portion with the condensation is a little clunky, a detail crammed in the middle of action. If her breath is leaving condensation on the glass, she’s obviously standing at the window. Also “her breath leaving” is a little passive. My suggested edit: “Tribba’s breath condensed on the window as she watched the sand-covered man walk up the road.”
Otherwise, the imagery of the sand colored man is very intriguing. Who is he? What is his relationship to Tribba? Why is he covered in sand? Where did he come from?
July 14, 2014 — 10:33 AM
Herman Martin says:
I like the sentence, however I would change the part about condensation on the glass. Maybe “as she watched through the condensation” would still show how close she was to the glass.
July 14, 2014 — 1:22 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
I like the imagery — but I think I agree that this would be best in two sentences.
July 16, 2014 — 9:48 AM
Tina Hammond says:
I love the sentence from SP&A. Awesome.
From my Wip, Posse: His stringy body was stooped with age and the hunched posture of tall men who try to fold in on themselves to appear shorter.
July 13, 2014 — 10:37 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
I really like the part about him folding in on himself to look shorter – it does the double-duty of hinting at his personality as well as giving a clearer picture of HOW he’s hunched over. However, ‘stooped’ and ‘hunched’ are basically saying the same thing twice, so perhaps a slight tweak so that you’re only using one of those two words would really make this spark.
July 14, 2014 — 7:34 AM
Tina Hammond says:
good point– thank you for the feedback.I’ll rework it 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 10:19 AM
Sage says:
A sentence from one of my WIPs. (you know, the one that I’m TOTALLY going to edit. In a few days.)
“A day wasn’t a good day until someone was poisoned, afraid of her, or had lost possession of something, preferably something expensive.”
July 13, 2014 — 10:38 PM
Amber says:
I think a crisper, more evocative and “hooky” sentence would be: “It wasn’t a good day until someone was poisoned.” The rest of the items in the list aren’t as unusual or interesting – you can go into them in subsequent sentences where you can add a bit more descriptive context.
July 14, 2014 — 10:37 AM
Sage says:
Hmm, good point. I was kind of trying to enforce her personality and stuff – she goes around, does what she wants, and is usually quite mean – but I see what you’re getting at. Thank you!
July 14, 2014 — 3:24 PM
Kerr-Ann says:
Beneath Scarlett Valley: “Gray clouds hung low over Ashland, shrouding everything in an icy mist.”
July 13, 2014 — 10:39 PM
brokensea says:
The kid’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel matched his eyes, wide and bulging like a bolting horse.
July 13, 2014 — 10:41 PM
SAM says:
This is an interesting image, but I’m not sure I can put it together–the white-knuckle grip matching his eyes. I’m not sure how a grip can be wide and bulging, though I really like the description.
July 13, 2014 — 10:48 PM
Madison K says:
to me, you are using too many descriptors and they are getting in each others way. White-knuckled grip means it is tight but then you also say it is wide and bulging. “The kid’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, wide and bulging like a bolting horse.” doesn’t work, so it doesn’t work to say the grip is like the eyes. I would break this into two parts – describe the eyes then describe the grip or vise-versa
July 13, 2014 — 10:52 PM
Jeff Ford says:
Maybe it’s a little *too descriptive* (or maybe not). But “wide and bulging” doesn’t describe a bolting horse. When I think “wide and bulging” I think of something growing.
July 13, 2014 — 11:27 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
I agree with Madison and Sam, about the distinction of the knuckles and the eyes, but I love separately, “eyes wide and bulging like a bolting horse”. I really get good imagery with that.
July 13, 2014 — 11:56 PM
Madison K says:
Oh, hell yeah. Love the imagery with the eyes. Totally leave it in, which is why I suggested breaking it out from the grip description. Overall the whole sentence gives me a very good visual of a kid panicking behind a wheel. Even makes me imagine him being underage and not knowing how to drive.
July 13, 2014 — 11:59 PM
SAM says:
Yes, this is what I thought too.
July 14, 2014 — 12:02 AM
Jana Denardo says:
Like some of the others a tight grip matching wide eyes doesn’t quite word. Both do give me the sense of panic. Maybe instead of matched you can find something to suggest they compliment each other or go together somehow.
July 14, 2014 — 12:30 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Mixed metaphor doesn’t work, either go with the white knuckle ride or the terrified horse.
July 14, 2014 — 5:54 AM
A. F. Grappin says:
This is first sentence of my current WIP:
Silen sat down gingerly, wondering again if he’d broken a rib.
July 13, 2014 — 10:52 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Maybe move the ‘again’ if applicable.
Silen sat down gingerly, wondering if he’d broken a rib, again.
Silen sat down gingerly, again wondering if he’d broken a rib. <– if you're saying he's wondered more than once about this one rib, because of one incident, I like this better.
Silen sat down gingerly, wondering if he'd broken another rib.
July 16, 2014 — 9:53 AM
L says:
“I’m gonna have awesome sex with a fallen angel,” Marco said into the phone as Erin and Mike started the apocalypse fifteen miles away.
^That’s mine. Chapter twenty-five, third paragraph, of my urban supernatural WIP.
July 13, 2014 — 10:54 PM
awkwardtreed says:
Love it, perhaps though (if there’s a way to do it) mention Erin and Mike’s name in a sentence beforehand, that way you can just go with “as the others” or something like that. Otherwise it does get a bit wordy and namey.
July 14, 2014 — 11:31 PM
brokensea says:
I agree – I was thinking about the way you see the white’s of a horses eyes when it’s freaked out. It doesn’t mesh with the white-knuckled grip though.
July 13, 2014 — 10:55 PM
Allison Forsythe says:
From somewhere in the middle of my YA WIP: “It’s only when you have freedom from that—like when you know that you’re dying—that you can really live.”
July 13, 2014 — 11:02 PM
Val says:
I just saw “The Fault in our Stars” and this reminded me of that sadness.
July 13, 2014 — 11:20 PM
SAM says:
It seems a bit clumsy. If you took out that clause -like when you know that you’re dying- you’re left with It’s only when you have freedom from that that you can really live. That followed by that is always a trip up in my head when I read. Plus, I have no idea what the first “that” is, even if the words between the dashes are supposed to describe it. I think it has great potential once it’s cleaned up a bit.
July 13, 2014 — 11:58 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
I wish I knew what ‘that’ was!! I’m going to have to buy your book, aren’t I. I love this philosophical place you are going. It’s my lifeblood. I was thinking that there were too many ‘thats’,
July 14, 2014 — 12:01 AM
Allison Forsythe says:
I’ll let you know if I ever finish it. 😉
July 14, 2014 — 9:03 PM
Jana Denardo says:
the word ‘that’ is rather awkward here. We don’t know what ‘that’ is and the following clause isn’t much help. I sort of know what you’re driving at but it’s not as sharp as it could be.
July 14, 2014 — 12:23 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Need to know the context to figure out what ‘that’ is. Good sentence and message.
July 14, 2014 — 5:53 AM
Allison Forsythe says:
Thanks, everybody! The first “that” is put into context by the preceding sentences in the draft (I hope!), but I’ll flag it for beta readers to make sure that it’s clear!
July 14, 2014 — 8:34 AM
brokensea says:
Here’s the opening sentence from my first novel, Tankbread:
The Asian across the table from me is tearing great gobs of warm flesh from his girlfriend’s neck
July 13, 2014 — 11:02 PM
David says:
Well, God, I’d keep reading! Girlfriend might be a bit strong under the circumstances… maybe date?
July 13, 2014 — 11:16 PM
brokensea says:
Cheers. Published by Permuted Press in 2013, so it’s a bit late to edit it now.
July 13, 2014 — 11:36 PM
Fi Phillips says:
Slightly ew but interesting.
July 14, 2014 — 5:52 AM
Southpaw says:
Yup, love it. I would definitely keep on reading!
July 14, 2014 — 1:53 PM
kerr-ann dempster says:
I posted this earlier, but it isn’t showing up. So, here goes again. This is the opening line from my upcoming novel, Beneath Scarlett Valley:
“Gray clouds hung low over Ashland, shrouding everything in an icy mist.”
July 13, 2014 — 11:05 PM
Sara Crow says:
It’s a nice sentence, but it’s not an opening sentence. Think ACTION that shocks the reader for sentence #1. Maybe include an image that foreshadows the conflict, if possible.
July 14, 2014 — 9:36 AM
Southpaw says:
I don’t think you have to shock the reader but you do need more to pull him in for a novel opening.
July 14, 2014 — 1:56 PM
Sara Crow says:
Good point. Choice of words there…you need to PULL the reader in. You don’t need to have a sheep-child in the first sentence, but you need to make your readers wonder “what’s next?”
July 15, 2014 — 8:32 AM
Melissa says:
Good imagery but no hook. Why am I interested in Ashland?
July 14, 2014 — 12:16 PM
Melissa says:
BTW – I have a post on here too. Feel free to chime in? 😉
July 14, 2014 — 12:18 PM
David says:
From an idea I had mowing the lawn today:
“You want me to rewrite the trading software so it worships Allah?”
July 13, 2014 — 11:05 PM
SAM says:
Yes, yes I do. That would be a unique idea altogether. Seriously, its a good line.
July 14, 2014 — 12:01 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
Fascinating line. I’m going to mow our lawn before writing tomorrow.
July 14, 2014 — 12:10 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Love this. Want to know more.
July 14, 2014 — 5:52 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Yes. And now I want you to write the rest of the book that goes with it. 🙂 Seriously, I love that line!
July 14, 2014 — 7:43 AM
Southpaw says:
Wonderful. Who know mowing the lawn would be so creative?
July 14, 2014 — 1:57 PM
awkwardtreed says:
Golden.
July 14, 2014 — 11:33 PM
Val says:
Fasting didn’t make me closer to God; it made me a grumpy witch.
July 13, 2014 — 11:13 PM
Paul D says:
I dig it.
July 14, 2014 — 11:55 PM
Andreah Grove says:
The sky was not the white light that she had seen down the tunnel, but beautiful orange tints-dappled russet and harvest moon orange.
July 13, 2014 — 11:30 PM
Madison K says:
You don’t want to know what I misread ‘tints’ as at first. LOL
I would drop the ‘beautiful orange tints-‘ part altogether.
July 13, 2014 — 11:34 PM
SAM says:
I agree. I think dappled russet and harvest moon orange work quite well without it, or if you really love beautiful orange tints, I’d end it there.
July 14, 2014 — 12:00 AM
Andreah says:
Haha! Thank you for the advice. I agree, it’s better without the “beautiful orange tints.”
July 14, 2014 — 8:56 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
How about using orange hues? I love the rest of the sentence. It is a bit halting at the ‘tints’ part, since apparently we’re all dirty minded.
July 14, 2014 — 12:12 AM
Andreah says:
Thank you! My book’s title was originally Orange Tint before the story was finished. I’m glad I changed it, lol.
July 14, 2014 — 8:57 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Good but the last part (but…orange) could be tighter.
July 14, 2014 — 5:51 AM
Andreah says:
I agree. Thank you for the critique.
July 14, 2014 — 8:58 AM
Tina Hammond says:
Since orange was used twice, maybe “autumn hues” instead of “orange tints” – this would also tie into the harvest moon timeline.
July 14, 2014 — 10:51 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
We are not our brains, nor what our elders have trained us to be, as lion tamers to wild unbridled rage, generations upon generations have cast aside the soul.
July 13, 2014 — 11:45 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Better as poetry than prose, I think? Saying it outloud makes me love each word as it rolls off my tongue, but it’s a run-on sentence, in and of itself. The last clause seems to just hang there — I suggest eliminating it from that sentence, or putting a semicolon before it, then an em dash after, so you can elaborate on why generation after generation have cast aside the soul. I do, however, applaud the simile; gorgeous use thereof.
July 16, 2014 — 9:57 AM
Amrita C. (@amritac) says:
From a paragraph I wrote last night:
Clouds were gathered over the dilapidated building with the yellow door and the fat man was bleeding out on the lime-terraced rooftop.
July 14, 2014 — 12:07 AM
Southpaw says:
I like it. I would drop the were and have make a minor change to the fat man. I also suggest cutting out the yellow door, nice detail but the sentence might be stronger without it. Something like
Clouds gathered over the dilapidated building as the fat man bled out on the lime-terraced rooftop.
Maybe even cut the on the lime-terraced rooftop. ??
July 14, 2014 — 2:02 PM
Andreah Grove 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 15, 2014 — 9:44 AM
Jana Denardo says:
The bruises around Temple Chevalier’s neck hadn’t faded, so he pulled his uniform collar tight.
July 14, 2014 — 12:08 AM
SAM says:
Gripping. I want to know more about Temple Chevalier and why he has bruises around his neck.
July 14, 2014 — 12:15 AM
Jana Denardo says:
Thank you very much
July 14, 2014 — 10:35 AM
tamara says:
Oh niiice. Begs the question: what was he doing that got him neck bruises? And together with a uniform – I like! It’s either naughty, or nice, or both, or neither… yes!!
July 14, 2014 — 12:21 AM
Jana Denardo says:
Thanks. I forgot to put in some context. He’s a demon hunter
July 14, 2014 — 10:46 AM
Madison K says:
Why the use of the full name? It makes it sound very stiff. But it does a good job of drawing me in & make me wonder, how did (s)he get bruises all around their neck?
July 14, 2014 — 12:21 AM
Jana Denardo says:
because it was the first sentence the writers group insisted on his full name. I think it’s bad too. He’s a demon hunter. I need to remember context on these things
July 14, 2014 — 10:51 AM
Southpaw says:
Oh those writers groups! LOL I like this sentence too, but agree the full name seems too much.
July 14, 2014 — 2:05 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
My thoughts on your sentence below. Thought I was in a reply field? Wonky.
July 14, 2014 — 12:22 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Interesting. Has someone tried to strangle him?
July 14, 2014 — 5:51 AM
Jana Denardo says:
yep. a demon. thanks.
July 14, 2014 — 10:52 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Interesting.
July 14, 2014 — 1:42 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
I thought I posted this once, so if it comes up twice, sorry!
We are not our brains, nor what our elders have trained us to be, as lion tamers to wild unbridled rage, generations upon generations have cast aside the soul.
July 14, 2014 — 12:15 AM
SAM says:
His eyes became slits as his doubt over Edgar’s truth surfaced.
July 14, 2014 — 12:17 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
Looooove eet. Sly guy.
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
tamara says:
I like the ‘surfacing’ of the doubt here. It gives it time to happen, which is how I feel when doubt rises. But I’d replace ‘became slits’ with ‘narrowed’ – his eyes did something, rather than became something, which suggests morphing… unless you mean that they morphed!
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
Madison K says:
The passive tense doesn’t work here, since eyes don’t slit themselves. Maybe “He narrowed his eyes as his doubts over Edgar’s truth surfaced.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
SAM says:
Thank you both.
July 14, 2014 — 12:27 AM
Noel says:
As others have said, doubts surfacing has a nice feel to it. There’s a lot in here that I find a bit confusing, though, though it may be absolutely clear in context.
The first is POV. We can’t be in the point of view of the person whose eyes are becoming slits; that’s a thing another person notices, not something you notice yourself doing when what you’re actually focused on is your own doubt. At the same time, “doubts surfacing” feels like we’re in the POV of the person whose eyes are narrowing. Like I said, this may make sense in context–if we’re firmly in the POV of someone other than the person whose eyes are slits, we may still be paying enough attention to the doubter’s mindset to feel doubt surfacing.
The second is the meaning of “truth.” There’s just something odd about the wording. “Edgar’s truth” is strange–it feels like it means something other than “Edgar’s credibility” or “Edgar’s truthfulness,” but I’m not sure what that thing is. (Again, may make complete sense in context.) “His doubt over Edgar’s truth surfaced” feels oddly wordy and hard to parse, too.
July 14, 2014 — 12:43 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Really don’t like the description of the narrowing of his eyes becoming slits. The whole sentence is a bit clunky. Suggest the doubt rather than telling us about it.
July 14, 2014 — 5:50 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
It’s a good sentence, Jana. I think it says a lot about Temple, that he’d try to hide his bruised neck.
July 14, 2014 — 12:21 AM
Sparky says:
Garrett would have felt safer going naked.
July 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
Paul D says:
Haha! Okay. I feel this way sometimes, too.
July 14, 2014 — 11:58 PM
Noel says:
“You haven’t been on a road-trip until you’ve been fourteen, violently orphaned, and driven cross-country by a insane wizard pursued by the police.”
July 14, 2014 — 12:28 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
Hell yeah! 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 12:32 AM
Noel says:
(Which should obviously be “an” insane wizard. Whoops!)
July 14, 2014 — 1:16 AM
Cal says:
Awesome! Definitely hooked me. Only point would be the double use of by (by an insane wizard pursued by the police) feels a little bit clunky.
July 14, 2014 — 5:13 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Love this. Great image. Hope it’s the start to a novel.
July 14, 2014 — 5:48 AM
Southpaw says:
Kudos here too!
July 14, 2014 — 2:09 PM
Susan says:
Love it.
July 14, 2014 — 8:54 PM
Paul D says:
Suhhweeet!
July 15, 2014 — 12:01 AM
David Wilson says:
He had no hair on the top of his head but on the sides his gray hair was so wild it looked like it was trying to recolonize the top but not quite succeeding.
July 14, 2014 — 12:29 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
I love it, but I think it’s clear he’s not succeeding, as the top of his head is bald. I think this is a funny line, but the end part redundant.
July 14, 2014 — 12:34 AM
Andrew Leon Hudson says:
I think it’s good, but could be more punchy: “He had no hair on the top of his head but the gray sides were wild, like…”
July 14, 2014 — 3:51 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Great image but needs tightening.
July 14, 2014 — 5:48 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
Death even spilled from the roots of the towering black walnut trees, staining our play clothes in the muddy color derived from their fruit.
July 14, 2014 — 12:31 AM
Jana Denardo says:
While I like the images here, I did wonder about the juxtaposition of ‘play clothes’ and the word derived, mostly because play clothes suggest a younger child to me, one who wouldn’t use the word derived. I am curious about the death spilling everywhere though.
July 14, 2014 — 12:44 AM
Noel says:
*Love* the image of death spilling and staining.
I think “their” gets a little confusing–“death” is still the subject, so having “their” modify “the roots of the towering walnut trees” feels odd (especially since I don’t think the fruit of walnut trees comes from the roots).
I love the idea you’re getting at–just needs a little cleanup of what’s modifying what, I think.
July 14, 2014 — 12:47 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
Thanks for the help 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 1:04 AM
SAM says:
I like the juxtaposition of how the narrator sounds like an adult, yet you have play clothes there. My hang up was with the word “even.” Did something besides death spill from the roots? That’s what the “even” seems to say to me. I do love the imagery I get from imagining the stained play clothes, as if the roots bled.
July 14, 2014 — 1:15 AM
Gabryyl Pierce says:
I love death spilling…like a dark ooze.
Maybe something like: Death even spilled from the roots of the towering black walnut trees, a muddy stain we would never get out..
July 14, 2014 — 1:28 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Not sure how death is spilling out – need to see the context. Not sure if you need ‘even’. Muddy color derived from their fruit is a bit clunky, needs tightening. Would be interested to see the rest of this piece.
July 14, 2014 — 5:47 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
This is from my memoir, Fi. It’s within a paragraph speaking of the death that had befallen the area where my parents set us up to live in a trailer. Historically, the place was the site of a skirmish in the war of 1812 between the Iroquois and British soldiers. We lived on the border of a Six Nations reserve, on a campground! Many paranormal events and strange accidents occurred while we lived there. I agree that the walnut tree fruit part is not tight, and I should explain more about how it chokes out the neighboring foliage with it’s roots. Thanks for the encouragement.
July 14, 2014 — 9:46 AM
Fi Phillips says:
I understand a little better now. Interesting place. Good luck with the memoir. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 1:41 PM
canuckmom2013 says:
I reworked it this morning with the feedback. This is the genius of critique. For those of us forgetting the reader comes from absolutely no knowledge of the story, it’s do or die.
July 14, 2014 — 2:22 PM
Claire Ashby says:
This was my normal: the stench of blood and bleach, dogs barking relentlessly, chilled air and the clink of stainless steel equipment.
July 14, 2014 — 12:40 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
I had a chill go up my spine, because I actually felt the clink of the stainless steel contraptions. Eeks! what is that character up to? Torture? The chilled air leads us outside, right? So maybe not torture. I really like this sentence because it gets me thinking outside of the greater context of your story.
July 14, 2014 — 9:51 AM
Gabryyl Pierce says:
A vampire who has been feeding on a woman with blood that acts like a drug to him (without her knowledge) has been caught by their friends:
“You go home, have a drink, a smoke, dinner with the kids, make love to your wife, fall asleep together and dream. I don’t. Can’t. Can’t even dream. NO escape from myself…until her.”
July 14, 2014 — 1:23 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I like how it feels that I’m the one being addressed in this piece.
Overall, has a very bitter tone to it, an observer’s description of a very cliché life, and yet with undercurrents of longing.
The short sentence “Can’t” seems a bit repetitive given that you start the next sentence with the same word, so you might want to consider taking that out. I’m a big fan of repetition, but it doesn’t really feel right here.
Your sentence raises a lot of interesting questions (or, it would, if you hadn’t described the scenario before hand) and makes me want to keep reading to learn more about this enigmatic character and why he can’t have those normal-life things, why he can’t even have something so mundane as a dream. And, most of all, who this mysterious “her” is.
July 14, 2014 — 2:09 AM
Fi Phillips says:
I feel this dialogue would be better if it was interjected with movement, even the subtle movement of his hands, shift of weight, expression, looking at the woman. Cut the first Can’t. Make it ‘I’ can’t even dream. He is talking about himself after all. Interesting.
July 14, 2014 — 5:45 AM
franticwordfetcher says:
I spent three seconds admitting my mother was right (and the last twenty praying she’ll forget it).
July 14, 2014 — 1:37 AM
Southpaw says:
LOL I love it.
July 14, 2014 — 2:19 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Oh, every mother, ever. This had me laughing aloud. The only thing I find odd is the switching of tense — You spent three seconds, but now it’s ‘she will forget’ instead of ‘she would forget’. Maybe I’m reading it wrong?
July 16, 2014 — 10:02 AM
Avalyn Doyle says:
‘It seemed they were the most popular men in town on those days they brought produce along the canal from the city, though they looked poor and often had bare feet cracked by cold but they still seemed like kings because they had their freedom and their strong backs, their ruddy cheeks inflamed with the love of water and boats and movement through the fields.’
July 14, 2014 — 1:55 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Without warning, something changed, and she was no longer falling but tumbling, a sensation of spinning out of control that she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl doing cartwheels down the hillside in the park behind her childhood home.
July 14, 2014 — 1:56 AM
Avalyn Doyle says:
I like this. The childhood memory puts it into an experience that is profoundly different to the ordinary. It also connects the reader with a place from the past which will influence the future.
July 14, 2014 — 2:21 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Thanks for the feedback. The story is indeed connected to events from the character’s past, with events not only directly referenced but inferred through action. I’m glad that came across.
July 14, 2014 — 11:14 AM
Michael Henderson says:
A bit too long. Try breaking it up, and deleting the part about cartwheels. The girl is falling out of control, which is cool, but then we are distracted by a little girl doing cartwheels, which is not.
Without warning, she was tumbling and spinning out of control.
I’d have to see the context of it to know whether that makes any sense. I don’t know how she began to fall. The “without warning” part is also bothering me. Try to connect her tumbling out of control to her beginning to fall.
As she accelerated, she began to tumble and spin out of control.
I don’t know, but it’s definitely too long.
July 14, 2014 — 3:57 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Thanks for the feedback!
“I’d have to see the context of it to know whether that makes any sense.”
The context is that the main character just got pulled through a magic mirror (a conduit from our world into a Fairyland) and was warned before the event that she’d get the sensation of falling. Due to outside influences, however, something has gone wrong with the conduit — instead of falling and then landing, she starts spinning out of control and is wrenched out of the conduit in an unexpected place.
By this point the reader has already seen one fairy come through the mirror, and is familiar with how it SHOULD go. The spinning out of control is to indicate that something’s gone wrong without having to directly state it.
Hope this clears things up, and I’ll definitely look at somehow shortening the sentences. I think I’ll leave the cartwheels in, though, as the character has just spent the past two chapters reminiscing about her childhood, and she’s feeling rather pensive.
July 14, 2014 — 11:19 AM
khaalidah says:
Hi Mr. US. I’m not certain where this sentence is in your story but it feels like where ever it is, the action is happening. I like the sense that this appears to be marking a change in tempo. This sentence could benefit from some paring down though, I think. Considering the expediency it appears to be attempting to impart, shorter snappier sentences might work better.
Thanks for the chance to read this.
July 14, 2014 — 5:37 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Cheers for the feedback, khaalidah. I’ll have a look at re-writing it so that it’s shorter and snappier, hopefully conveying a sense of urgency. I appreciate your time.
July 14, 2014 — 11:21 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Interesting but tumbling is still falling. This could do to be split into several short sentences which would increase the pace.
July 14, 2014 — 5:41 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Sorry, I replied to your post Fi Phillips but something went wonky and it’s disappeared 🙁
The gist of it was: I personally see tumbling as a different type of falling, more like saltation (bounce-bounce-bounce, in non-geology terms) than a fall over (trip/slip) or an uninterrupted fall from a height. For example, acrobats tumble. Rogues who’ve taken that particular feat tumble. Snow falls. Leaves fall (although they might tumble over/across the ground if blown by the wind).
I’ll look at reworking the urgency/pace of the sentence but believe I’ll keep the tumbling in.
July 14, 2014 — 11:31 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Hi, I see what you’re getting at but still, you need to find a tight way to suggest what tumbling means over falling. Good luck. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 1:46 PM
NMHaupt says:
I like the sentence, really like the imagery, however…I don’t feel you don’t need the first two commas and to me the phrase “a sensation” impedes the flow of thought as it suggests to me the start of a new sentence. I want this sentence to read as fast as she’s falling. Also the phrase “something changed” and “she was no longer” are slightly redundant. I like your style of writing, the use of, I don’t know what I’ll call it, “the personal metaphor”, of her falling as opposed to something impersonal “like dice from a Yahtzee shaker ” (Sorry I posted this incorrectly, in the wrong section, I’m not the world’s savviest Internet user)
July 14, 2014 — 7:47 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Thanks, NMHaupt. Commas are not one of my strongest points, so I’ll have a look at restructuring the sentence. I’ll see if I can tweak the whole ‘sensation’ part, too, to make it flow a little better. Appreciate your input!
July 14, 2014 — 11:27 AM
canuckmom2013 says:
I really dig this sentence. I love the movement of the words. I look at sensation as related to the vestibular system so I think that part works. I wouldn’t want you to take that out. It’s the best part of the sentence.
July 14, 2014 — 9:55 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Cheers for the input, canuckmom2013. I might just tweak ‘sensation’ into a new sentence (or a different part of the sentence) but won’t change it too much. I’m glad you like the movement, too; I’ll try to be careful during my restructure to make sure the movement isn’t lost.
July 14, 2014 — 11:28 AM
Cal says:
I like the change from falling to tumbling (in my head it looks like a skydiver losing control of their fall) and the reminiscence is a nice connection to the character, contrasting this new and possibly frightening sensation to a pleasant and secure one from her past.
I think you could lose the ‘that’, to leave – ‘a sensation of spinning out of control she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl’, but that’s just word trimming.
July 14, 2014 — 6:08 PM
Avalyn Doyle says:
Hey Gabryyl……to comment. I like the build of suspense but found: “You go home, have a drink, a smoke…..” was 2 too many descriptions of ordinariness. I get the plaintive tone and the storyline may need those details of drinking and smoking but I think the slap of a sentence with powerful information is in its crispness.
July 14, 2014 — 2:08 AM
Michael Henderson says:
She hoped to Christ the pyre just floated nicely into the middle of the lake, burned the body into ashes, then sank out of view.
July 14, 2014 — 3:30 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I love a good viking funeral.
What appeals to me about this sentence is the implication that the pyre might do something *other* than float away and then sink. Makes me wonder who’s on it; somebody the protagonist does not wish to see again, or wants to be rid of as quickly as possible, judging by her hope.
The “out of view” might be a little superfluous (it stands to reason that if it sinks, its no longer visible) but I think if you were to change that part of the sentence you’d need something to put in its place, because it’s nicely paced at the moment.
The only word that doesn’t sit right with me is “nicely”. It doesn’t really qualify anything. Could you find something more descriptive/emotive to put in its place?
Otherwise, nice job.
July 14, 2014 — 11:37 AM
Melissa says:
I like this but the Christ seems wrong. Christians and pyres don’t usual mix to me. Maybe she hopes to Freya?
July 14, 2014 — 12:21 PM
awkwardtreed says:
Like this for the same reason (what else would a pyre in a lake do??) but I feel you don’t need the “into ashes”. Just for a bit more punch maybe try making it flow with the floating, the burning and then the sinking.
July 14, 2014 — 11:37 PM
Andrew Leon Hudson says:
Something simple, from a Steampunk murder-mystery: “He crouched and came up with a satisfied smile and a coin.”
July 14, 2014 — 3:53 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Like you said, something simple and hard to go wrong with a sentence like this. The only thing I’d like to see is something more about the coin; perhaps its colour, or its lustre? Something which indicates to me whether this is a valuable gold piece, or just a lucky-penny. Judging by the satisfied smile, I’d guess it to be more than just a regular coin (unless the protagonist’s absolutely broke).
July 14, 2014 — 11:40 AM
Andrew Leon Hudson says:
He is! And in the next line, when he finds the others leading to the body, they turn out to be coppery.
Thanks for the comment. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 12:02 PM
Elena says:
“On the third day the pathfinder was found dead.”
This is the first sentence from my short story.
July 14, 2014 — 4:02 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I like it! Especially the irony of the pathfinder being found (in any state). The shortness of your sentence makes it really high impact, and leads me to wonder who this pathfinder is, whether he/she is anyone of importance, how he/she died, and who found him/her. I’d definitely read more, just to satisfy my curiosity.
July 14, 2014 — 11:42 AM
Southpaw says:
Yeah I like the pathfinder being found too! Good sentence.
July 14, 2014 — 2:23 PM
Cal says:
Roker could hear his breath coming hard and ragged, feel the beads of sweat puckering on his brow, smell the charred bodies scattered around the club.
July 14, 2014 — 4:06 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I particularly like your use of raw, descriptive words, such as “hard” and “ragged” and “charred”. Even “puckered” and “scattered” have a sense of disorder and urgency to them. I also like how you’ve tied in more than one of the protagonist’s senses, describing first what he hears, the feels, then smells, without launching into an obvious exposition. Each part of your sentence feels like a whole and well-timed scene.
Wish I could offer you something a bit more constructive, but I don’t think I’d change anything about this.
July 14, 2014 — 11:46 AM
Cal says:
Thanks Mr U.S. I appreciate the feedback.
July 14, 2014 — 2:18 PM
Jake Norton (@JakeTheHeathen) says:
“I was born without claws, without fangs, without scales. So I forged them in fire and crafted them of steel. Violence erupted around me, and that moment I was free.”
July 14, 2014 — 4:27 AM
hxcsasquatch says:
“and AT that moment I was free.” The one time I choose not to copy and paste. -_-
July 14, 2014 — 4:58 AM
Irene says:
Love the “forged” and “crafted-” tells a lot about the character… good job!
July 14, 2014 — 9:50 AM
khaalidah says:
Tentatively entitled, “The Fattening Room”: ” My mother sold everything she owned, including the sick bed as she lay sweating in it.”
July 14, 2014 — 5:31 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I like the bitter irony conveyed here, and I have to wonder why the protagonist’s mother is so driven to sell everything she has. I can really see this working as the first sentence of a story (if you ever submit it to one of Chuck’s “post an opening line” challenges, I’d love to expand on it!).
The only piece of constructive feedback I can offer, is I would change “the sickbed” to “her sickbed” as it makes it much more personal and implies possession rather than just use.
July 14, 2014 — 11:50 AM
NM Haupt says:
I like the sentence, really like the imagery, however…I don’t feel you don’t need the first two commas and to me the phrase “a sensation” impedes the flow of thought as it suggests to me the start of a new sentence. I want this sentence to read as fast as she’s falling. Also the phrase “something changed” and “she was no longer” are slightly redundant. I like your style of writing, the use of, I don’t know what I’ll call it, “the personal metaphor”, of her falling as opposed to something impersonal “like dice from a Yahtzee shaker :-)”
July 14, 2014 — 5:34 AM
Fi Phillips says:
From chapter 5 of the novel I’m working on – “Against the harsh illumination of the laboratory, the darkling’s outline pulsated, spiking and arching like a feral cat.”
July 14, 2014 — 5:39 AM
Miriam Joy says:
This is an interesting one. I like the idea of the darkling only being an “outline”, although it seems to me that if it’s against a light, it’d probably be more like a silhouette. Then again, I have no idea what darklings are or what they’re made of, so maybe it would only be an outline. I like the cat simile too, although the word “spiking” is confusing to me, because it’s not an idea I can directly link to cats, and I can’t quite picture it. Swapping it for a more obvious verb could make it easier, though I feel like “arching like a feral cat” can probably stand alone, since it’s a good image in its own right. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 5:51 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Thanks, Miriam.
July 14, 2014 — 6:00 AM
Beth Turnage says:
Fi–Of course you have a much better sense of setting, and I’m assuming the darkling is silhouetted in a doorway by the harsh illumination of the laboratory.
The sentence is good though my preference would be to pare down the words.
For instance:
The darkling’s silhouette in the doorway pulsated and arched like a feral cat against the harsh laboratory lighting. (Just a suggestions 😉 )
July 14, 2014 — 9:51 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Thanks, Beth. She’s not in a doorway. She’s imprisoned in a glass dome but using just one sentence strips the context. I’ll have a look at tightening it.
July 14, 2014 — 1:48 PM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I really like “harsh illumination”, it really conjures an image of a cold, sterile laboratory in my mind.
I do agree with Miriam about some of your verbs, though. I don’t immediately connect spiking with cats (arching, definitely) and to me, pulsating evokes a feeling of rhythmical throbbing which is dichotomous to ‘spiking’.
I am, however, intrigued about what a darkling is, and why it (or its outline) pulsates in this way.
July 14, 2014 — 11:55 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Thanks. I’ve gone back to the original text and removed spiking because I think you’re all right, it works better without. Throughout my novel, I try to draw a contrast between the futuristic, scientific world where my novel is set and the more earthy, magical creatures that live alongside.
July 14, 2014 — 1:51 PM
Cal says:
Love the imagery with the feral cat and the intrigue of what is a darkling? What is it doing at the laboratory? And why is its outline pulsating? Sounds like the first line to a book or chapter, with plenty to draw the readers curiosity. I would have to agree with others about the use of ‘spiking’ though. It just seems a little out of place in relation to the other descriptive language.
July 14, 2014 — 1:06 PM
Fi Phillips says:
Thanks, Cal. Lots of helpful comments there.
July 14, 2014 — 1:52 PM
Beth Turnage says:
On the important days of his life he was always alone.
July 14, 2014 — 5:47 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Great sentence. I want to know more.
July 14, 2014 — 6:00 AM
Beth Turnage says:
Fi,
Thank you.
July 14, 2014 — 9:42 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
This is a wonderful sentence. It says so much in so few words. I wish I could offer something more constructive but I think it’s perfect as it is.
July 14, 2014 — 12:00 PM
Beth Turnage says:
Thank you. This is a about a recurring character in a series, and this one sentence does sum him up very well.
July 14, 2014 — 2:18 PM
Miriam Joy says:
From my Camp NaNoWriMo project:
“And then, because she can’t eat bitterness, she cooks herself a plate of pasta and eats it on its own without sauce, and goes to bed.”
July 14, 2014 — 5:49 AM
Fi Phillips says:
Love this. Very suggestive of the character’s personality. Want to know more.
July 14, 2014 — 6:01 AM
Miriam Joy says:
Thanks 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 6:17 AM
Sara Crow says:
“…because she can’t eat bitterness.” SO NICE. Great job.
July 14, 2014 — 9:28 AM
Miriam Joy says:
Thank you! This is basically the only sentence from this first draft that I actually *like*. It might even stay in when I edit, radical though that is. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 9:29 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
I agree with Sara, the ‘can’t eat bitterness’ line is wonderful, and very telling of the character’s frame of mind. I like how, as if to spite life, she eats the pasta without sauce. I think you could safely take out “on its own” (that is implied by the next part) without losing anything.
I would also suggest you keep an eye on your “and” count, as you use it 3 times in one sentence, which can be a bit repetitive.
July 14, 2014 — 12:11 PM
Miriam Joy says:
Thanks — the ‘and’ thing had occurred to me, and I’ll probably refine it when Camp’s over. (For now, it’s an extra word… ha ha.) And you’re probably right about the ‘on its own’ thing too. 🙂
July 14, 2014 — 2:37 PM
Allison Forsythe says:
Totally agree! I was going to suggest taking out the “on its own” piece, too. To cut back on one “and”, maybe something like “…eats it without sauce before she goes to bed.” ??
July 14, 2014 — 9:06 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
“because she can’t eat bitterness” is an AWESOME phrase. ‘on its own/without sauce’ are redundant — you could likely tighten it up there?
July 16, 2014 — 10:07 AM
Miriam Joy says:
Thanks, yeah, I was thinking that. I think I wrote this during a wordsprint so I probably wrote ‘on my own’ before deciding to clarify and it ended up messy. That’s NaNo for you… 🙂
July 16, 2014 — 12:59 PM
Daisy says:
I agree with everyone about the bitterness part, very nice. But I also agree that it could tightened. you could just say ‘she cooks herself a plate of plain pasta’, if it needs to be mentioned that the pasta is plain, or just ‘she boils herself a plate of pasta and goes to bed’
July 16, 2014 — 10:17 AM
Phil Norris says:
My heart pounded the breath rasping in my throat, I looked sideways at at Malash as I shook the blood from my sword, the great bear was gone he had returned his normal form, he was smiling at the torn and butchered bodies around us “In our line of work you can’t avoid a little blood.
July 14, 2014 — 6:53 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
I feel like this needs to be way more than one sentence – more like five sentences, to be honest. (I’d even put one of those dreaded semi-colons in one of them, separating “the great bear was gone” and “he had returned his normal form.” But that’s just me and I have a chronic addiction to semi-colons I’m currently in rehab for – others would probably suggest something else, like an em-dash.) I like the feel you’ve created with the words though – makes me want to know more about the story, that’s for sure.
July 14, 2014 — 8:04 AM
Beth Turnage says:
Yes. Despite the great imagery, this needs to be broken into separate sentences.
July 14, 2014 — 2:36 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
Okay, here’s one of the longer sentences from my current sci-fi w-i-p:
‘The walls of the Blue Angel and the empty building on the other side seem to stretch up to forever over the top of me, and as a sudden gust of wind scatters garbage past my ankles pieces of my nightmare flash through my mind again.’
July 14, 2014 — 7:54 AM
Sara Crow says:
Nice sentence, Wendy! There’s a lot in there.
Add a comma after “ankles.”
“Stretch up to forever…” is a bit of a cliche, so you might want to think about a different simile or metaphor for that spot.
I’d actually break this into two sentences, partially to highlight the parallel construction of garbage and the nightmare…both things the character likely wants to be rid of. Put a period where the comma is between “me” and “and.” Cut the “and” and “as.”
Also, a gust of wind is always sudden (and almost always wind), so just say, “As a gust scatters garbage past my ankles…”
“Blue Angel”…reference to the movie? LOVE that movie, though it’s heartbreaking.
July 14, 2014 — 9:27 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Thanks for the feedback, Sara! Lots of good points I can use in there.
Descriptions of settings/atmosphere in a setting has always been one of my weak points; I either don’t think to put it in at all or when I do it feels like I’m trying to write in a foreign language. 😉 I like the changes you’ve suggested.
And yes,the Blue Angel’ is a sort of homage to the movie – although I’m not sure Marlene would be entirely flattered by a comparison to the venue in my story 😉
July 15, 2014 — 8:02 AM
Sara Crow says:
Yeah, descriptions are definitely difficult to balance, and also one of the most important parts of a story. I just had to STOP reading a book (which I never do, but OHMYGOD this one was painful), and one of the biggest reason it was driving me insane was that it was a period piece that had absolutely NO description of setting. There were other issues, but I started scrawling in the pages with snarky and frustrated comments in order to have SOME cathartic release because this was just…awful.
So get practice! It’ll come with time. See how you can include description in the action of the scene. Keep submitting descriptions to these or to people who will read and rip it apart. You’ll get used to it!
July 15, 2014 — 8:37 AM
NMHaupt says:
He’d seen her act a lot of different ways, never this, kneeling in the dirt, unswerving devotion to the task obliterating their chance to stop at a diner later for a snack, throwing herself at the ground digging with both hands until her gloves turned black to the elbow and the earth released from its depths fingers attached to a hand, an arm, a body smashed down into the ground by a gang of wild animals walking upright on their cloven hooves barely masquerading as humans.
July 14, 2014 — 7:59 AM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
This is a reeeaally long sentence (with a Joyce-ish vibe to it) that I think could work in the middle of a story where you’ve firmly established tone, but as a stand-alone sentence to remark on here, there’s simply too much going on.
You might get around it to restructuring your first line as so: “He’d seen her act a lot of different ways, never this; ” and then continue. At the very least I think there should be a ‘but’ after the first comma, to help link what feels like two separate clauses.
On the other hand (not the buried one… hahah) I do like how the scene goes from kneeling to walking upright, it feels very symmetrical and natural. The part about the chance to stop at a diner for a snack interrupts the flow, though.
Other than that, some nice imagery. In your place I’d seriously consider fragmenting it into two or three shorter sentences, or at least removing the distracting elements, but ’tis your choice.
July 14, 2014 — 4:41 PM
Mr Urban Spaceman says:
Sorry, that should read:
You might get around it to restructuring your first line as so: “He’d seen her act a lot of different ways, but never this; ” and then continue.
July 14, 2014 — 4:43 PM
decayingorbits says:
She held his hand tighter as they passed through an airlock into a large, glass-domed enclosure, the stars shining brilliantly through the glass.
July 14, 2014 — 8:10 AM
Sara Crow says:
Beautiful scene in one sentence.
Watch out for adverbs (“brilliantly”), because they tend to be redundant (see how “brilliantly” doesn’t REALLY do anything for the word “shining?”) or inadequate descriptors. Go through your story and cut them all as an exercise. If you lose anything, think about how you can encompass the image more vividly without them.
In this case, you could think about how “shining brilliantly” could be more viscerally portrayed. Fiddle with some similes or metaphors to replace it, if you want…or just look for a good synonym.
Even “shimmering” would be a nice replacement.
July 14, 2014 — 9:21 AM
decayingorbits says:
Thank you — excellent advice!
July 14, 2014 — 7:38 PM
Perrin says:
First sentence of my WIP novel:
Nicolas Hale jolted awake to a scream and a bang, and wondered if the past had come back to haunt him.
July 14, 2014 — 8:55 AM
Daisy says:
I like this, but I feel like “and wondered” slows down the action a little bit.
Maybe try something like “Nicolas Hale jolted awake to a scream and a bang, afraid that the past had come back to haunt him.”
I do think it works really well as an opening sentence, though. I immediately want to know what happened in his past, and why it might come back to haunt him.
July 15, 2014 — 8:42 PM