Then, suddenly, he felt it; a rupturing explosion in his shoulder, and everything went blank.
***
Day
Something blurred into his vision. A distant black fog at first, the slowly turned into blurry objects, grey, and black. His left shoulder screamed in pain, and his neck ached. He found it hard to swallow, as if a rock was lodged deep down inside.
He moved his right arm around, making sure he could still move it, making sure it hadn’t been damaged. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, and got a clear look at his surroundings. He was in an old shabby room. The wallpaper was peeling off, and the drywall and brick could be seen visibly. The floor was scattered with old quarantine papers and other random trash that had been there for only god knows how long. The windows were boarded up, 2-by-4’s blocking anything from getting in. Light poured in through the little cracks in the boards, filling the room with a dull twilight.
“Ah, you’re up” Came a voice from behind him, a males. The man turned quickly turned his head to see who had said it. There, standing in the doorway was a short man, only around 5’4”, and red air, a freckled face “We found you in the street, lying unconscious, so we came and picked you up before they could get you.”
“What?” Replied the man drowsily, still sleepy,
“Can you not remember?” He asked, “Those things were chasing you, and they would have got you if we hadn’t intervened. You’re lucky to be alive.”
The man stayed silent, perhaps still pondering the possibilities of his current situation, or trying to remember the happenings of the previous night
“My names Arnold,” He stated, “What’s yours?”
The man looked at ‘Arnold’ with a puzzled expression, “I don’t know.”
“Oh joy,” Replied Arnold as he disappeared from the room, reemerging shortly after with a tray in his hand. He set the tray near the man “Here, eat; it’s all we’ve got.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” The man asked as he looked at the breakfast tray. The tray had a piece of black bread on it, and some hot liquid that could pass as soup. Numbly, he picked up the bread and dipped it in the soup, letting it soak in the hot liquids to soften the staleness of the mold.
“’We’, my wife, my kids, and the other probably 50 or so people here at the colony.”
The man looked up at Arnold “50?”
“Ish. You’re the first person we’ve seen in weeks. Well, first one that’s alive, everyone else was dead, or one of those...Things.” Said Arnold “We’ve been held up here, for…Well, I don’t even remember anymore, a long long time.”
“How long?” Asked the man
“Oh, since…Since the food shortages, the economy’s inflation, and the disease. We ran away from society to hide here, in the ghettos of abandon neighborhoods while civilization crumbled to its inevitable demise.” Stated Arnold Matter-of-Factly, “And that was about 2 years ago. Now though, it’s suddenly gotten a wee bit harder to stay alive. There more of those things, more Dark Ones every day. More people are getting sick you see, and cast out of any other colonies or hovels, tribes around this old city. And when those sick are thrown into the streets, they get captured, poisoned, converted…” Arnold’s voice trailed off
“So the people infected with the sickness, you guys just throw them out?” Asked the man.
“We have no choice, if they stayed, we risk a chance of all of us being infected, and killed, rather than just one. Though, it only came to our attention about a week ago, that the Dark Ones just use the infected, to join their ranks.”
“Peachy...” Replied the man as he looked at his left shoulder. It was bandaged, though the bandages could use a changing. They were tinted red with blood, and it would risk running an infection if they weren’t, “Can I get my bandages changed please?”
“Yes.” Said Arnold, “Follow me”
Arnold helped the man stand up, and motioned to him to follow him. He led the man through the door into a dimly lit corridor, light coming in from a small window in the roof. The walls didn’t have any wallpaper on them, it was all laying on the ground, and the jip rock in return, was black with mold.
Arnold then led the man to the right, down another small hallway, to an oak door. He twisted the knob, and grunted.
“The door is old.” He laughed as he gave it a bang, and it opened.
Light engulfed the Man and Arnold as they walked into the new room, a large chapel like area lined with church pews and large lime-stone pillars, running up to a small stage like area. Large windows lined all around the room, stain glass, and decorated with large colorful pictures. On one end of the Chapel, there were pews, scrap metal, and barbed wire all piled up in a barricade fashion. A couple men and woman, armed with firearms sat beside them, making sure nothing got in.
“This is a Catholic church, well, it used to be…” Began Arnold as he walked by a woman and her children, the woman handing the two little ruffians black bread, “But we found it abandoned.”
Walking to a confessionary, Arnold knocked violently on the door, “Hey!” He barked “Wake up!”
A little rustle could be heard inside, and then out popped a woman. She was short, and had fuzzy grey hair. Her skin was wrinkly, that which came with extremely old age. She had simple glasses, though they were quite dusty, and one of the lenses had a crack running through it.
“Ah, Peter,” She whispered to the Man, “You’re awake!”
“Peter?” Asked the Man questionably, “Who’s Peter?”
Arnold leaned into the man and whispered into his ear, “Her memories a little fainted…” He began as he patted the Man on the back, “She calls everyone Peter.”
“Ok…” the Man began, voice trailing off as the short woman grabbed his hand and began to lead him away from the chapel, to another small doorway.
She led him through a maze of hallways; all of them with plaster applied to the walls to keep them from molding, probably trying to keep the area mostly clean of bacteria. Their efforts were in vain however, because the roof was covered with a thick blanket of black mold.
One of the doors she led the Man by had a large cell door covering it, bolted in large screws, and there was a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder against the wall. As they raced by, the Man stared in, trying to get a glimpse of what was inside…
What he saw sent shivers down his spine, and put his hairs on end. There was a woman in there, chained up the strong steel chains. She had large tumors on her head, neck, and back, and her skin was black, little mold-like growths all over it. The only resemblance she still had as a human was the fact that she still had some blonde hair, little strands hanging from her head.
“Wait!” The Man yelled as he pulled his arm from the woman’s grasp, and walked back to the cell, trying to get a clearer look at the Woman, or Thing, in the cell.
Staring in, he knew it immediately; she was infected
“Why do you have her here?” He asked hesitantly
“Testing” Replied the man with the rifle “Seeing how long it takes, for someone to become one of those…Monsters…normally…”
Man as he continued to look at the woman, “Normally?” She seemed to be sleeping, curled up into a little ball in the corner, sunlight washing over her from a window
“Yes, like…” The man with the rifle began, “You’re aware how the infection works, right?”
“Um…” Began the Man, “Kind of…”
“Ok, so…” He started, “So, one person that’s infected, you don’t quite know, until they start getting Tumors and little growths all over there bodies. When the growths come, they break the skin, allowing bacteria to enter the body, and grow, making mold. The mold is the reason the skin turns black…”
“What’s really puzzling, the Scientists used to say before they died, was the fact that the body could still live under these conditions. They think that the mold actually co-exists with the bodies organs, and that it still transports valuable minerals and such the bodies need to live, to the skin tissues and what not…”
“Another puzzling thing is how smart the Buggers are,” He stopped, motioning to the woman, “How the Dark Ones actually seem to have a higher intelligence then humans. They make there own gambits, traps, weapons, and use them to pick us off, so they can either catch us, or eat us…”
“So what do you do then?” The Man asked, “If she breaks out or something…”
“She won’t have time” The man with the rifle cut in, “She’ll have a bullet threw her head in the time it took for her to get out of her cell.”
“Peter.” Said the old Woman as she shuffled towards him, “Come on!”
The Man was led into a small room, just around the corner of the cell. In no time at all, the woman had taken off his current bandages, and applied some newer, cleaner ones, and sent him on his way.
Around the corner, he heard some cursing, and yelling. Walking around, He saw some men engaged in a heated argument, pointing into the cell and yelling at the man with the rifle.
“You should have shot her!” They yelled at him
“She moved to fast, it was to fast, all one fluid motion!” He replied
“What happened?” The Man asked as he walked up to the group, only to gasp as he stared into the Cell. The Wall to the outside was broken, a small hole in it.
“We were hoodwinked,” Said Arnold walking up to the Man, “Stupid monster escaped.”
“How?” Asked the Man.
“Mivian here has too slow of a trigger finger.” Replied a man shortly, motioning to the man that was guarding the cell, name obviously ‘Mivian’
“It wasn’t possible! One moment she was still, then the next she was flying threw the wall as a blur!” Replied Mivian in defense.
“Never mind about it, Mivian, you’ve bought yourself Night Watch, someone else, seal up this hole…” Arnold said quickly as he began to walk away, “It’ll be dark soon.”
Sure enough, within an hour of the incident, the sky began to darken, clouds in the sky turning into beautiful hues of red, green, and blue, burning up in the atmosphere so distant. The Hole was quickly sealed, with wood and plaster. Everything on the outside seemed so peaceful and quiet…
…But it was a different story in the Catholic Church, Pews were quickly being made into Barricades, barbed wire piled up in long coils along them. The Refugee’s had quickly made 3 lines of the barricades. The first one was the one closest to the doors and the outer windows, the one piled with heavy scrap metal, church pews, and barbed wire had been added on to too make a strong defensive wall. The second line was smaller, curving around the center of the church, piled with Pews and spared wooden planks. In the middle, a little hole had been dug, and a piece of tiling placed over it to hide the few children, about 5, from those things, those Dark Ones. The reason it had so little barricading in it was that they didn’t want the Dark Ones to think something special was there. The 3rd Line branched away from the other two, covering the doorway that led to the Mans original room, the one he had awoken in. It was, as Arnold said, the “Last Stand” area. It was lined thick barbed wire, wooden planks, and church pews, as well as some tables and scrap metal that could be spared. The Hallway had been outfitted to. A couple of the ‘Smarter’ People in the colony made little groves in the wall, and holes, and stuck strands of Barbed Wire and wooden poles, pointed at the end, and simultaneously connected all of them to a lever at the end of the hallway, controlling an erratic set of ropes. When pulled, all these things will fly out at what ever is in the hall.
All of the barricades were also outfitted with make-shift towers, to give the one on the tower a better view of the action.
The Man looked at all the hustle and bustle around him. It seemed firearms seemed to sprout out of the ground, and were handed out to everyone, even the 2 oldest children were handed Pistols to blast at anything that opens they’re little hatch.
Arnold approached him, smiling. “Well, here…” He began, holding out the butt of a Pistol, “I think you might want this.”
“I’ve never shot a real gun,” started the man, “Only BB Guns as a kid.”
“Relax,” said Arnold, “Just click when in danger, and flick off the safety before you do so…” He extended his hand, pointing to a little tab at beside the trigger-guard
“And here.” Arnold said as he held out 3 plastic-looking containers, “You should know how to reload right?”
“Ah…maybe, from movies…” Said the Man, “…Yea, I’ll do it..”
“Great…” Said Arnold, “What’s this?” He stopped, staring at a man running towards him
“Sir!” He began, “There’s movement outside!”
“Incoming!” Came a cry, as a harpoon like metal rod, with a rope attached to it, flew through a window, flying right into a man in a tower with deadly accuracy. The man gave out a cry as the Harpoon ripped through his body, and hit a pillar behind it. The man was left dangling in mid air, eyes wide in fear and shock
“No no no! Don’t let them take me, don’t let the-“ He began to cry, blood trickling out of his mouth as a whistling sound could be heard, the harpoon dislodging from the pillar and flying back towards the man backwards. In no time at all, both he and the Harpoon had disappeared outside the window.
“So it begins!” Cried Arnold.
***
Night
Harpoons began to fly through the windows in quick succession, men jumping from they’re windows and seeking cover behind anything at all. A couple were snagged out of the air and pulled through the windows, crying and screaming as they were sucked away, only to have they’re voices cut short.
The Man seeked cover behind a large piece of metal that was part of the first line of barricades, as Harpoons whistled by his head, and men and woman screamed and ducked for cover. One man was brave enough to climb into a tower, rifle in hand, and fire a shot into the darkness. Quickly afterwards, he slinked down from the tower, with a grim smile on his face, “Got one.” He smiled as he began to walk away.
He screamed shortly after, as one of the harpoons from the outside sliced through his shoulder, and began to drag him back outside. It dragged him across the floor, and up the wall, and eventually, his voice couldn’t be heard anymore, as he disappeared out the window, a long trail of red blood following his long trip.
The children had disappeared, hidden away in they’re little hole, and the mothers, pretty much the only woman, were all crowded behind the barricades around it, ready to die defending they’re own.
Eventually, everyone found little holes where they couldn’t be hit from the deadly harpoons of the outside. Everyone sat, as the Dark Ones continued to ‘Fish’ for the humans.
It carried on for about 2 hours, but eventually, it stopped, and silence fell. Another hour passed, and another, and another. Had the Dark Ones cancelled they’re assault?
Apparently, 9 people had been lost in the Dark Ones assault, leaving only around 40 people to defend the church.
“Time?” Came a call from somewhere in the church.
After a short pause, the reply came back from Arnold “3 A.M, I think they’re waiting for Dawn to come, so they can attack in the Day, now that they’ve weakened us…”
“Great!” Came a reply, “We’ll see them easier in the daylight!”
A Scream came from outside, and then suddenly, the large, Oak, double doors, the entrance to the Church, began to shake, cries coming from the outside
“Jinxed!” Came a joking reply from another corner of the Church
The Man stared up from his point of the barricades as little wooden splinters began to be chipped from the doors, one by one. A large crack appeared in one, giving one of the men just enough space to squeeze a shot off.
The Shot rang out throughout the entire church, followed by a squirt of Black Blood flying through the crack and a deafening scream. All the people gave a mighty cheer, as everyone knew it was definably a kill.
It Came to the Mans attention now that the man he saw earlier tonight, who said he had gotten one, had probably lied, he was probably just caught up in an Adrenaline rush, and only thought he had killed one of those things.
The Wood kept getting chipped away slowly, and men continued to shoot out the little cracks, most of them getting a satisfying scream from one of the monsters outside. Eventually though, the banging stopped, and Mivian, the man from earlier, the guy who caused all this, said that they pulled out, and fell back
“No.” Replied Arnold, “They’re just playing a game with us, getting ready for another assault…”
“What’s the time Arnold?” said the Man
“4:27…it’ll be light soon…”
There was a sigh among all the people. The Dark Ones were far more ferocious in the daytime, far more efficient at what they try to do. And by the looks of it, they would have to engage them in the light.
Suddenly, a loud cry came from the outside, drawing everyone’s attention to the door. A quiet ‘Pat-pat’ could be heard, representing someone in bare feet running…
The Door exploded into a flurry of wood splinters as a large, black figure ran through it, screaming and running straight for the first line of barricades, right towards the Man.
“AH!” Screamed the man as he dropped his pistol and fell to the ground, putting his arms across his face.
A Shot rang out, and the Dark One, which was now in the air above the Man, seemed as though it had just been broad sided by a bus, and flew into the wall, screaming with blood flying from the growths and tumors all over its dark, molded body.
A guard with a shotgun of sorts gave a laugh and turned his attention back to the door. Now, more things could be heard running, running in the dark, towards them. The Man pulled himself up, and grabbed his pistol again, this time flicking the safety off, and gripping it with both hands, pointing it at the doorway
“Get Ready!” Cried Mivian as he stared at the doorways. Suddenly, one of the dark figures appeared, only to be grounded instantly as his body was made into the similarity of ‘Swiss Cheese’.
Others came threw the doorways to, loafing towards the defenders. In pure excitement, the Man squeezed the trigger, clipping one of the Dark Ones on what used to be his shoulder. The Dark One was felled soon after by the man with the shotgun.
The Men farther down the barricades gave cries as the Dark Ones flooded in, to quick for some of them. The monsters jumped over the wall, and grabbed them, lifting the men by they’re heads with only one hand, and taking deep bites into they’re throats. The Man squinted, as one of them lifted Mivian by his head. Mivian cried out, only to be cut short. His body was tossed with a rag-doll effect over the barricade.
A loud ‘Rat-a-tat-a’ Ripped through the church, as a man with a large sub-machine gun, in one of the towers, began to rain bullets down on the dark ones running through the doorway. It made a significant difference in them, as seemed to be cut back, falling down in big piles in front of the barricades.
“Keep shooting!” Encouraged Arnold as he lifted a rifle, and shot towards the beast pouring into the humans safe haven, bullet ripping through the head of a Dark One, “We die if you stop!”
The Man stared in aw at everything around him, the carnage and fear, the penultimate fight for survival between what he looked at as ‘Good versus Evil’. Everything was a haze. Bodies of both humans, and those monsters were pilling up around the first line of barricades, bullets ripping through the atmosphere of the Church. He looked at the doorways, and noticed a Dark One, he seemed to be getting closer, closer. It was running towards him! His stomach got sick, and his legs began to wobble as he saw the monster racing towards him.
Everything seemed to get bright, as if a fire was surrounding him, and suddenly, he saw himself, but not as he was now. He say himself a child, short brown hair covering his face, little blue eyes looking through the strands hanging over his face. He saw himself, as a teenage, driving his first car, laughing with his friends as they sped immaturely down the roads of the city, and he saw himself as an adult, standing at the end of a church, similar to this one, with another woman, in a wedding gown. It was his wife. The Preacher was saying something, it began as a humming, then a beat, then turned into a pulse, getting louder and louder and louder, repeating the same thing over and over again; Peter, Peter, PETER!
The Pulses quickly changed from being his name, to the sound of a gun firing, his gun. The vision disappeared, and he was Cast back into the real world, lobbing bullets towards the monster running towards him. In no time at all, the thing fell, just feet in front of him. Squeezing the trigger more, it only made a ‘click click’ sound. ‘Peter’. The name was so familiar. It was his Name, his name was ‘Peter’.
As fast as he could, he reached for his pocket, and pulled out another clip of pistol ammo, released the one in his pistol, and shoved this one into it, and then cocked it, firing more bullets into the never ending horde of monsters. Light started to shine through the broken glass, as bullets continued to fire. Many piles were now piled up, and the things were reaching the second line of barricades, hurling themselves over at the Mothers, who were shooting desperately at them.
“Fall Back!” Cried Arnold, “Get back!” He ran towards where the 3rd Line of Barricades started, and lifted a small ladder laying beside it and placed it against the barricades, and got ready to help people climb it.
The machine gun came to an abrupt stop, as 2 of the Dark Ones made it their business to rip the gunner in half, as they chucked him off the tower.
It seemed they’re weren’t allot of the Dark Ones anymore about 7, as light poured into the church. Coarse, they’re weren’t allot of humans left either, about ten, all racing toward the barricades.
Peter ran to Arnold and jumped onto the ladder, and hopped over the barricades, followed by another person. He got over just in tome too; The Dark Ones sideswiped all the others running towards the barricades too, crushing them into the ground as they gave out pathetic screams. Arnold disappeared from Peter’s site, and soon it was only Peter and the other man behind the barricades, the remaining Dark Ones racing towards them. All except one, which was lifting up boards in the ground, in the center of the 2nd line of barricades. It had found the children. Peter braced to take a shot at the beast, but was pushed by the man he was with.
“AH!” He screamed as the beast hurled himself onto him, biting into his chest.
Peter turned, and ran into the hall, right to the end, right beside his room, eyeing the lever in the wall. He just had to time it right…
Four Dark Ones began to move slowly down the hallway, panting. They were huge, all of them seemed to be covered in a layer of grease, or sweat, and gave off terrible odors. They were all bleeding, from different wounds they had received during the battle, and looked extremely mad, seeming to smile as they closed on Peter.
“Back!” Peter cried as he gripped the handle, “Go Away!”
It sounded as though one of them actually laughed, as if he actually understood Peter! As if the last bit of human resemblance still hung there for a second…
…And then the second was passed, as Peter screamed and put all his weight into the lever, pushing it down.
With screams, the Dark Ones crumbled to the ground as sticks and barbed wire cut through they’re fleshy skin, blood flying every which way as major arteries were cut, and they became a dead pile in the small hallway.
Peter sobbed as he turned into the room he had woken up in, and began to grab and tear the wood boards blocking the windows, taking them down and throwing them aside. Finally, they were all gone. Covering his wet eyes, he slammed his pistol against the window. The Glass shattered, echoing through the entire church.
A Scream came from down the hall, and Peter’s heart sunk. He turned around, wide-eyed, at the door leading into the hall, as the sound of panting became louder, and louder, closer and closer.
He screamed as a Dark One, a very huge Dark One, appeared, a 2-by-4 in hand. Peter tried to squeeze a shot off with his pistol, but cried out in pain as the monster swung the 2-by-4, striking his hands, and sending his pistol flying across the room.
Sobbing, Peter slinked down in the corner as the beast closed in, smiling and panting, staring at him. This was it. This was the end, this is where he died. He’d never see his wife again, he’d never see his kids again, and he was just going too die here. He braced himself, and closed his eyes…
A shot and a cry flew into his ears. Opening his eyes, he stared as the monsters right arm was ripped from his body, and sent flying across the room. Another shot rang out, and the monsters legs caved in, and he fell to his knees, holding out his arm towards Peter, screaming. Finally, a third shot erupted, and the beasts’ head exploded outwards, painting the floor with black blood.
Arnold walked through the doorway, Shotgun in hand, and spat at the dead Dark Ones corpse.
“You ok?” He asked as he held out his hand
“I...I think so.” Replied Peter as he grabbed the hand and was pulled up.
Another shot rang out, from the main chapel of the church. Peter quickly grabbed his pistol, and the two raced out into the chapel. Nothing was there, only the bodies from the battle. Sunlight painted the room a beautiful gold, and light reflected off the white pillars. Birds chirped in the trees, and a warm breeze blew threw the air.
“What was it…?” Began Arnold.
“Shh!” Said Peter as he put up his hand. As quite filled the air, they could both here a gentle sobbing, coming from the center of the chapel…
…They both raced over the chapel, over the bodies, and to the 2nd line of the barricades. Hopping over it, they crossed over the bodies of dead women, and Dark Ones, to the Children’s hole. They’re was a fresh body there, of a Dark One, and 4 small bodies, of children.
A gentle sobbing sound was coming from the hole. Arnold and Peter looked in, and saw a young boy there; pistol clutched in hand, tears rolling down his face. He looked to be no more then 11 or 12, short brown hair, short person.
“Come on.” Arnold said Gently as he lifted him out of the hole, “We have to leave.”
***
Day
Arnold and Peter pushed the boy along gently, as they raced out of the church. They crossed a couple more bodies as they raced along the street, though after a few minutes, there was no sign of the church, or battle. No sound filled the streets, covered in litter and grass.
“You, what do you think we should do now?” Arnold asked Peter, “I mean, my colony…” He stopped.
“We’ll find more people” Peter reassured, “And…My Names Peter, by the way” He smiled.
“Oh, now you tell me.” Arnold snickered as he began to walk again, followed by the boy and Peter, as they carried on down the road…
Another Short Story we had to do, this one we had to make the ending to a different short story, called "The Dark Ones"
__________________ Kugarfang: o hai guiz im trying to find this techno song from the radio and it goes like this:
I've had a brief read of your latest short stories. I'm a budding 'writer' myself so I hope I can take a proper time out and read these in full.
One thing I noticed, is that you rely heavily on description. This is a mixed blessing. It's great to present the reader with a STRONG IMAGE of their surroundings. However, you need to be careful of using too much description. This bogs down the action, and the tension of the scene.
When somebody reads your work, they will not remember the words. They will remember how your story, your 'action' made them feel. (At least, that is what I remember of stories, movies, etc.)
When you are writing a scene, or a story...
Plot out a road map of 'emotions' or 'reactions' to your writing.
Is the reader Happy, Fearful, Angry, Excited, etc?
Try and vary between feelings, as this keeps the reader active and interested. If you stick to one 'feeling' for too long, they might lose interest in what is happening.
Here's an example of what I mean:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Fubb
He moved his right arm around, making sure he could still move it, making sure it hadn’t been damaged. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, and got a clear look at his surroundings. He was in an old shabby room.
For much of this paragraph, we are following a single subject. Him. That's fine, but try to vary your wording a little. He,he,he,he... is a little repetitive. Don't be afraid to drop the reader into the thick of things.
Replacing 'he', with 'the stranger' or something similar. (Hopefully something less generic than THE STRANGER lol, but you get my point.)
Bruised, swollen and sore. The Stranger woke up. His arm twitched. Reluctantly. The pain was constant. He sat up and tilted his head from side to side. The surroundings were alien. The room was drab. It was decorated only by moss and mould. Tucked away in a distant corner was a stool, and an overturned desk. Each wall was suffocated by a thick layer of dust.
(A rough and clumsy re-write, that doesn't flow that well. Hopefully it still illustrates some of my points.)
In this passage, we have informed the reader of the action, added a description and set the mood.
From here, we can develop the 'tension' of the scene by adding in some more details. Maybe, the man can hear mice in the corner, or voices in the distant?
The reader is gradually exposed to the action alongside the description. They become more interested in the scene, and pay more attention. As a result, your descriptions will have more of impact.
As you add description, try to sprinkle some other things of interest into the mix as well. You don't have to go off in a tangent, just drop a 'hint' or 'precursor' of things to come later.
For example, as he wakes up, taking in his surroundings for the first time you could BRIEFLY descrbe
"the quarantine papers"
Then as you develop the scene, return to this description and build on it.
You don't have to do everything at once.
In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's better if you leave some things 'up in the air'.
Don't just 'describe' what is happening, try and put the reader in that position. If you are in a strange place, you may not notice everything all at once. Even if you do, will you really register the importance of 'paper on the floor' straight away? Probably not!
I hope I am making some sort of sense, It's pretty later here and I am quite tired.
I like the general mood and theme of your piece, and will be sure to read it and the other story in full when I have fresher eyes. I hope you take my comments with a pinch of salt, I'm overly critical of stuff like this as I am always looking for ways to improve my own writing.
It's okay to disagree with what I have said. I'm just another noob with an opinion, and at the end of the day it all comes down to personal preference. If you want to discuss things further, I'd really enjoy that. It's great to see somebody churning out some quality writing. Keep up the good work!
I had to do this exercise myself for a piece of coursework a few years ago.
Had to write an additional paragraph for "Of Mice and Men". I'll see if I can dig it out tomorrow. I'll probably cringe re-reading it today but maybe you can find some flaws in it and offer me some advice as well!
06-08-2009, 08:40 PM
Similar Threads
Linear Mode
