Instructor Response

Cliff Boner pulled a weapon from his black leather jacket’s breast pocket with the ease of effectiveness that practiced motion brings. The blue light-like strobe engulfed the two men as Collander gasped in agony caused by the two million volts of electricity discharged into his body. His wide-open eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and anguish as he slumped motionless over in his chair.

Within a few seconds, Boner stood towering over him. Collander looked up at him with eyes reflecting overwhelming fear, which filled Boner with the kind of excitement that no drug or sexual act could get him.  Boner leaned in aggressively closer, putting lip balm on his cracked, dry lips. The fear reflected in Collander’s eyes delighted him to no end.

Seeing fear reflected in strangers’ eyes as he walked by them pushed back his past memories; they were not erased, he will never allow himself to forget them, but they eased up. He was the reason why people knew what fear was. These people that never in their life knew what fear for their life felt like. Collander started to twitch.  His mouth was moving, trying to speak.  Boner leaned over with a smirking, as he was so close to Collander’s face that he could feel his breath.

“I don’t understand. Who are you? Why are you doing this?” Collander finally said in a barely audible voice.

Boner stood up, taking a sip of the cold black coffee that had been sitting there for hours before he responded to Collander. Let him wait, agonize over his response as he had done. [Great. Notice here this type of information delivered out of dialogue is more effective than when in dialogue. Compare it to comments below.]

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Harmon, you are an intelligent man, or at least I remember you being intelligent, no? Think hard; you must have some idea.”

Collander looked utterly bewildered; the mention of his first name surprised him. When was the last time someone refers to him by his first name? It was always Mr. Collander. Not even his wife; it was “hon” or the kids’ “dad.” When did he stop being Harmon? Bewilderedness replaced fear in his eyes.  “Money!  Is this about money?”

“You think it’s for money?  You’re a fool.”  Boner smiled.  He needed knowledge.  That would, of course, bring money.  It was a knowledge that he now wanted and needed for his own survival.

“If it’s not money.  What is it?”

“You know a secret.  And you will share it with me. If not now, when you are thinking clearly.“

“Leave me.”

“No.  Only when you tell me who was there that night, who was the one who threw the final and fatal punch? Who was all there that night?” [This has a lot of words, sort of soliloquy. Good contemporary dialogue is brief, especially in highly emotional settings. And note that if something is final, it is fatal, and visa versa, so the idea does not need to be repeated.]

“What are you talking about? What night? What fatal blow? I don’t even know who you are or what you are talking about.”

“You were there, I left, but you stayed and someone else; I want to know who the other one was! [This is perfectly acceptable and necessary information. But in dialogue, it’s exposition, and humans don’t deliver much information about setting or the past in speaking, especially in tense settings. You use the narrator providing information very well, and maybe you could place the highlighted words outside of dialogue, earlier maybe.) The reaper has come to collect, your country club set is used to others settling your debts, but this one is past due, and I have come to collect, and trust me, the interest rate is high!”

“You are insane! I don’t know what you are talking about! I don’t know who the hell you are, Let me go! I demand to be let go!” (This repetition seems excessive and may decrease the credible of this dialogue segment.)

“I’m going to ask one last time, who stayed with you that night at the lake?”

“Look closely into my eyes, and tell me that you don’t know what I am talking about!” [Great exchange. Your dialogue is very effective. It has purpose and moves the story along. Very credible.

The fear that was gone return to Collander’s eyes. Boner smirked once more; he knew that he had him.

“Was it you? I am right! You know that there is no statute of limitation on a murder? Right, I am sure that you being a top criminal lawyer, know that?” Boner said as he smirked.

“You have  no proof?”

Cliff Boner hit him across the face with the back of his hand.  Collander’s head snapped to the side.  He turned his head to face Boner and spat, the foul saliva hitting Boner on the cheek just under his left eye.

Boner felt his body being overtaken by rage. [A suggestion: “Rage overwhelmed Boner.” Succinct and avoiding the passive.]  The toothpick-thin boy was back, taking over the hardened two-bit criminal full of anger for having to endure unimaginable suffering for a crime he didn’t do.

Your imagery is excellent, the segment has great momentum, and is very engaging (in-scene writing). Well done! And the ideas flow very well. Congratulations on excellent work.

Thanks for the submission. And all the best.

WHC

Instructor Response

Cathryn. Good work. I’ve pointed out some ideas for change: be sure word choice is accurate for scene, especially with verbs; avoid using many words when a few will suffice (be succinct); use in-scene writing to allow reader to access scene and your ideas without being “told.”

Dried twigs crackled. Jed paused and looked around. Early morning mist swirled through the densely wooded mountainside. No one was visible, but Jed was certain he wasn’t alone. Holding his breath, the young man cocked his head and listened. (Note here you can stay in Jed’s point of view, not the narrator’s, with different effect.)  Maybe something like this: “Dried twigs cracked. Jed knew someone was near, but early morning mist obscured the wooded mountainside. He cocked his head and listened.” Try to always make it easier for the reader to imagine the scene and know feelings and perceptions.

Quiet footfalls and heavy breathing.

Someone unaccustomed to climbing the mountains, or ill, was following him.  It wasn’t unusual. Unscrupulous folks often attempted discovering an expert “sanger’s” secret locations where the valuable ginseng plant grew.

Jed reached for the revolver tucked in his boot and slipped it in his denim jacket pocket. Whoever it was had been tracking him for a while. He continued his upward climb, his eyes sweeping the ground.

Spotting a three-pronged ginseng plant’s green leaves crowned with a cluster of bright red berries, Jed gently raked leaves and weeds from around the base of the plant with his ‘sanging hoe–a two-foot wooden handle welded to a pointed iron head.

“Howdy.” A tall man suddenly appeared from behind a strand of tall trees on Jed’s left. “Digging ginseng?”  Here is an opportunity to use dialogue to characterize and to build suspense. What if you did something like this: Jed looked up at someone a foot taller than him. “I don’t like what you’re doing.”

Jed’s hand tightened on his ‘sanging hoe, his wary eyes assessing the stranger’s threatening look. suspicious and wary. This man wasn’t a ‘sanger. “What does it look like I’m doing I’m diggin’?” This man wasn’t a ‘sanger.

The man took off his cap and scratched his scraggy head. “No other reason for a fella to be up in these mountains, now is there?”

“Where’s your ‘sang bag?” Jed’s own burlap sack, dangling from a cord tied to his leather belt, was a fifth full of pungent, freshly-dug ginseng roots.

The syntax of the dialogue could be better . . . more credible.

 The stranger stepped closer to Jed. “Digging ‘sang ain’t really what I’m after.” Maybe? He smiled. Both top front teeth were missing grinned, two top front teeth missing, giving him a spooky, ghoulish appearance. “Name’s Ryan. Ryan Blane.”

The hairs on the back of Jed’s neck stiffened. Jed tensed. He knew the name.  He recognized the name. (A suggestion re word choice.) “My partner’s just over that next ridge.” Avoid exposition in dialogue .

“And I’ve got Federal Marshalls coming.” Ryan spat a stream of snuff. The brown tobacco splattered on Jed’s boot.

“Best be off.” Jed hoisted his ‘sang hoe. GREAT. This is a nice use of action and imagery that is important in attribution of what’s said to Jed.

Ryan’s arm blocked Jed.

“Let me pass,” Jed’s voice was shaky. Jed said in a shaky voice. He brushed off the stranger’s arm. Avoid passive constructions whenever possible in fiction.

Ryan pulled a small pistol tucked in his waistband. “Not so fast, Jed.”

Jed swallowed several times. “How do you know me my name?”

“Got my ways.”

“What do you want?”

“Figure you’d know, Jed.”

“Let me guess. Location of my favorite ‘sanging sites?”

“Ah, Jed. Jed. Jed.” Ryan made a sucking sound with his lips, and pushed the gun three times into Jed’s heaving chest. “Nice bluff.”

 “I, I don’t know who you are or, or what you—-“  “? “Who are you?”

 “Don’t lie to me. Noticed the fear in them eyes. When I spoke my name.” Maybe: “You know damn well who I am.”  Ryan smashed his fist into Jed’s face.

Blood streamed from Jed’s split lip. With the sleeve of his flannel shirt, he swiped at a spittle of blood. Jed’s stomach sickened at the taste of blood from his split lip.  “Alright. Alright,” he said. chocking on blood and saliva. “Newspapers said you’d been released from prison. Served time for drug smuggling. But you got the wrong guy—-“

The guy looked like his picture in the paper when he got out of prison for serving time for drug smuggling.

A second blow caught Jed under the chin, and he dropped to the ground, knocked senseless. Keep it succinct. Maybe: A second blow under the chin knocked Jed unconscious.

Jed regained consciousness, opened his eyes. and saw Ryan standing stood over him.  He touched his swollen face. Ached like hell. He fumbled for his revolver.

“Stupid move, Jed.” Ryan said and flashed Jed’s weapon. “How’d it be If’n I plugged you with it? Be kinda’ funny.”

 “Shoot me and you’ll never find out…”

“Mmm, so much for acting all innocent.” Ryan jabbed the barrel of the revolver under Jed’s chin. “Best tell. I’m aiming to find out. One way or the other.”

Pain, and the threat of death cleared Jed’s head. An idea formed. His fingers slid towards the ‘sang hoe beside him.

“Ryan, your bundle of cocaine. Helicopter dropped it last week.”

“How’d you know?”

“Some time ago, I spotted the big red circle with an X spray-painted in the clearing over yonder.” Using the ‘sang hoe for support, Jed stood up.  Consider delivering this exposition without putting it in dialogue. 

“Kept an eye out, did you? Waiting patient-like?”

“‘Sanging’s a good cover.”

“Where is it?”

“Been delivered.”

“Nah, you ain’t living high. Drinking. Dames. Fancy vehicle. You daren’t risk alerting the cops. Or my boys.”

“Got me there, Ryan.” Jed looked over Ryan’s shoulder and nodded as if to someone standing among the trees. “Take the shot,” he yelled.

“What the. . .?” Ryan spun on his heel.

Jed swung the ‘sang hoe and struck Ryan on the back of his head with the pointed iron tip. [Note how editing down might make this more effective. Jed struck Ryan’s head with the ‘sang hoe.] You have two purposes in this sentence: action, imagery. Do you really need two verbs? To strike may not need the swinging, and the tighter you can make the prose in portraying action the better. And in this sentence “pointed iron tip”detracts from the action that is so important. Consider too in scene writing that will engage the reader. (now the imagery can be used to effect with the action. The skull fractured when Jed buried the iron tip of the hoe into Ryan’s brain.  This is to illustrate in-scene writing. https://www.storyinliteraryfiction.com/essays-on-writing/writing-in-scene/

This is a good, interesting story. Like what you’re doing! Thanks for the submission.

All the best. Bill Coles 12/18/18

Instructor Response

Comment by William H. Coles on Jac Howard’s submission.
Assignment 2 revised.
6/26/16

Jac–

This is excellent. Now is the time to leave this segment and move on to other things–then, if that’s your plan, finish the story as a whole or work on something else. I say this because most authors begin to excessively tinker in revision in a way that leads to diminishing productivity and effectiveness. You haven’t done that yet, but every piece needs to be put aside after a revision. Of course come back to your work, but allow time to give you fresh perspectives and make further revisions, if necessary, valuable. It’s a good habit to get into.

I have only one observation: I think your dialogue with dialect is effective, but I wonder if a teacher of art history would be using this accent and voice? Just something to think about.

Thanks for the submission.

All the best,

Bill Coles

Revision

“Watch your step, man.”  Marvin tugged at Lance’s sleeve.  “Snakes lie closest to the trees.”

Lance moved away from the trees as guided.  He timed his steps in tandem with Marvin’s as their boots crunched upon the multitude of dried leaves.  The morning fog obscured his view of the ground.  He missed a step and stumbled forward.  He sprung up before Marvin could notice.  “Do you hunt often?” he asked, eager for Marvin to slow down.

Marvin kept on a few steps ahead.  Lance blushed, proud to see he had found the same hunting vest and boots as Marvin had, although his vest was one size too large.

“Last time I went hunting was as a kid with my dad.” He hollered over Marvin’s shoulder as he half-stepped to catch up.

“We should break soon.  I need a smoke,”  Marvin said.

Lance tensed up, then relaxed.  “Yeah, I uh, need one too, if you got an extra.”

All the above is good storytelling. And good writing. I’m impressed!

Marvin stopped short, Lance took an additional step and in a single swoop a long rope hit then spun around his ankles, whining as it cut the wind.  It tightened and yanked him off his feet.  He shrieked and coffee from earlier spilled back into his throat.  He sputtered as the rope raised him several feet into the air, his head near-missing the ground.  Coins fell from his pockets.

“Boy oh boy,” he cried.  “I’m gonna need your help here!”  He tried to yank his body loose but the rope cut deeper into his skin.

He relaxed and let his arms dangle as his body swung back and forth.  He peered over at Marvin – first his shoes then up toward his face.  He watched as Marvin lit a cigarette then while squinting an eye, sucked in a deep puff.  Lance scoffed at himself for not watching where he was going. I admire the way you’ve incorporated so much characterization in this draft.

Marvin moved in closer, slid his backpack off his shoulder, then plopped down on the ground just beneath him.

Lance chuckled, “Clumsy me . . .how did I get myself in such a –“

Marvin reached up, grabbed ahold of Lance’s mussed hair, and yanked his head back.

“Now,” Marvin said, as he blew a puff of smoke in Lance’s face,  “I’m only going to ask you once.”   He stuck his nose less than an inch from Lance’s.   “Where are the tapes of you and my daughter?”

“What? . .  wait. . . I can’t breathe . . . I- I –”

“You’re talking, you can breathe.”  Marvin growled.

Lance felt a rumbling in his stomach.  Nausea traveled toward his throat.  He took a deep breath before a stream of coffee spewed from his mouth, just missing Marvin.

Marvin pinched the cigarette from his mouth and let the glowing end lengthen.  He put it near Lance’s eye.

Lance panted.   “I don’t know what you’re talking ab –.”  He put his hands up to shield his face, but not before Marvin darted the cigarette between them, brazing Lance’s eyelashes.   Lance hollered and covered his face with his hands.

“You want it again?”  Marvin shouted still gripping his hair.

“I just tutored her in Art Hiss -torrry,”  Lance bawled.

“Why!”

Lance tried to lean his head away.
“Hmph?”  Marvin asked.

“She wanted extra credit –“

“You mother –“ Marvin swung Lance’s head back then smashed the cigarette into his nose.   Lance convulsed into hip and arm thrashing while the rope swung his body in a pendulous fashion.  He kept his lips pursed and tried to blow his nose.   He cupped his hand over it as blood dripped among the leaves.  His nostril swelled until it felt stuffed with a hot potato.  Marvin pulled at his hair again.

“The tapes!”  he shouted.

“They’re  destwoyed,” Lance answered in a nasal voice.

“What?”

“De-de –destwoyed.”

“No they’re not. You have those tapes.”

At that moment Lance opened his eyes.  A diamond-back snake was slithering down a tree trunk headed toward Marvin’s back.  It was huge.  A few seconds seemed like a minute as he pondered whether to alert Marvin.  Did he want him bitten and to suffer an agonizing death, or did he want to alert him and save his life only to have him continue this charade.  He didn’t know the girl was Marvin’s daughter.  He realized it after the fact.  Maybe Marvin would be grateful for him saving his life, and accept his deepest and sincerest apologies.  He kept his hand over his nose and looked Marvin in the eyes. Good! And I’ve got the story now!

“Mahvin, don’ mwove,” he said.

Instructor Response

Hi Jac.  Thanks for the submission. I’ll make my comments and highlight. Excellent work. Good story, and you kept to the guidelines very well. Most of my comments are not about mistakes but rather overall observations about creating dialogue and pacing, including rate of release of ideas. The intent is to stimulate useful self-criticism when revising; the ideas on pacing are applicable to anything you write, not just related to correction of what you’ve written.

Dialogue. There are two things in fiction that usually don’t go well in dialogue: exposition and stage direction. (Backstory too, which is a type of exposition.) Exposition is story background. In dialogue it might sound something like this: “Watch your step there, Clem. Them shoes was made by Obediah. Worst cobbler ever set up shop in Lincoln.” Stage direction: “Look over there near the window where that straight-back chair blocks the door.” This is the author speaking to the reader trying to get story information in. It’s not how credible characters in fiction stories would talk. I’ve highlighted in yellow some examples in your story. Again, not suggesting a need for change, but just to increase awareness.

The second thing is pacing, which is essential in all aspects of fiction. A major pacing consideration is the rate of information release. Either too much information too rapidly or too little information presented slowly pushes the reader away from the story. Again, you’ve done nothing wrong, but one of the purposes of the exercise is to illuminate for an author the rate of information release in your short piece. I’ll highlight information in gray and I’ll make comments on whether the information seems in the right place at the right time. Much of this is deciding the purpose of a sentence in dialogue. Does the sentence or paragraph have a story purpose: characterization, plot progression, providing conflict, imagery, etc. and does it follow a logical integrated story pattern? I think you’ll see what I mean.

            –“Snakes lie closest to the trees.” Does the danger inherent in wildlife fit in this story at this point? Here, it doesn’t do enough for characterization or plot progression, I think.

            –“the cool damp morning, both armored in hunting vests and Timberland boots, their steps crunching the dried leaves layered on the ground.” This is interesting. You have feeling (cool), character description (vests and boots), and hearing (crunching). Effective writing, but is it too much at this moment? Does it need to be trimmed to a few words for each idea?

            –“A multitude of trees filled the area, splitting rays of the sun that hit and warmed them.   Crows fluttered overhead, unseen critters scurried away into the distance.” This is more setting, nicely written, but does it contribute to the purpose of the story at this point, which is to get to the conflict between the two men? It’s not necessarily wrong, and it depends on what you the author want to do.

“Watch your step, man.”  Marvin tugged at Lance’s sleeve.  “Snakes lie closest to the trees.”

Lance moved away from the trees, as guided.  He glanced over at Marvin and chuckled, “you’d think I’d know that, being den leader of my son’s cub scout group.  [Exposition. Better in narrative.] Do you hunt often?” 

 They walked in tandem on the cool damp morning, both armored in hunting vests and Timberland boots, their steps crunching the dried leaves layered on the ground. Good. A multitude of trees filled the area, splitting rays of the sun that hit and warmed them.   Crows fluttered overhead, unseen critters scurried away into the distance.  This seems too much setting for me. Your judgment, of course.

“Hey, I appreciate you inviting me on this outing,” Lance said after a long period of silence.  “I was feeling isolated, like at that last barbeque in your backyard for the men . . . everyone seemed to be drawn to you–“ [Exposition. Y0u might have used it for characterization. But it seems a bit of backstory that doesn’t do as much as it should for the space taken up.]

“We should break soon.  I need a smoke,” Marvin said.

“ .  .  . Of course.  You got an extra?  I don’t usually smoke, but I’d be willing to try it.”

Marvin stopped short, Lance took an additional step and in a single swoop a long rope hit then spun around his ankles, whining as it cut the wind.  It tightened, and yanked him off his feet.  He shrieked and coffee he had drunk earlier re-entered his throat.  He sputtered as the rope raised him several feet into the air, near-missing his head hitting the ground.  Coins from his pockets fell to the ground.  He tried thrusting his body around, but the rope cut deeper into his skin.  [Vivid! Nice imagery perfect for scene visualization and progression.] This is nice pacing!

He stopped struggling, let his arms dangle, looked at Marvin’s shoes then up toward his face.

Marvin returned no eye contact, [“looked away”? “looked to the side”? maybe.  As it is itseems in a style stiff and formal.  It’s in the syntax and word choice; it has to do with showing rather than telling too.] but lit a cigarette. He plopped down onto the ground below Lance’s head.  He reached up and took ahold of a tuft of Lance’s mussed hair.

“Now,” Marvin said, pulling as he blew a puff of smoke in Lance’s face.  “Your discomfort can be short-lived if you cooperate.”  This is strongly implied by the storytelling and probably would be best left out. Redundancy can make readers unenthusiastic about the writing and telling.

“Ugh. . .  Oh. . . I can’t breathe, please.”

“You’re talking, you can breathe.”  Marvin replied. [Great.]

Lance closed his eyes and scrunched his face.  He took a deep breath and a stream of coffee spewed through his mouth and nose, just missing Marvin.

“My daughter said you made some tapes. [Exposition.] I want them” Marvin said.  [You might consider just; “I want them tapes.”  It’s brief, the way people talk when the emotional valences of the characters are heating up.   “

 “Tapes?   Lance asked, panting.  Droplets of brown liquid back dripped from his nostrils.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.   My daughter told me everything you did to her.  Sadly, it would be her word against yours without those tapes.” [Try letting the narrator tell this outside of dialogue. It’s exposition, which affects dialogue.]

“I just tutored her in Art History, that’s all.”

“Who the hell needs tutoring in Art History?  As far as I know, she wasn’t failing any classes.”

“She wanted an A.”

“You mother –“ Marvin swung his fist through the air and struck Lance’s face.  “Where are the f- tapes!”

The hit threw a loud, continuous ringing into Lance’s ears.

“I ain’t got all day.”  Marvin said.

Lance couldn’t hear as well.  He felt submerged in a vacuum.  He closed his eyes and wondered what could have led Marvin’s daughter to tell her father whatever she told him.   And he had tapes of every class room session since school began; they were erased daily, it was routine.  This is crucial information and should always have priority in the revelation of information.

He opened his eyes as he hurt from the tension Marvin had pulling his hair.  Then he froze.  A large diamond back snake was gliding up toward Marvin from behind.

 At that very moment, a few seconds seemed like a minute as he pondered what to do.  The neighborhood would blame him if Marvin was attacked and killed.  He would never recover from the shame.  They would shun him at home association meetings and at the grocery store.  He might lose respect from the community, including his students and especially the cub scouts.  Such a situation would be his most dreaded nightmare.  On the other hand, if Marvin survived, he would pursue this personal vendetta.  It would be a hard allegation to fight.  He weighed his options.  He decided on the option that worked best in his favor.  [This wasn’t clear to me–that is, what he decided and how it was in his favor.]

“Don’t move a muscle,” he said in a low voice.

They both heard the rustling of the snake, incongruent with the wind. [This is sort of poetic, but seems totally out of place for this section. Use it somewhere else?] Marvin paused and loosened his grip.

“It sounds huge,” Marvin said, afraid to look around.

“Don’t move.  Trust me. . . friend,” Lance said, being sure not to move a muscle himself.

I hope this provides some ideas for revision and some appreciation for having purpose for writing and identifying continuity and appropriateness of information for the story at every stage of writing.

Very nice work and all the best,

Bill Coles

Instructor Response

Very well done. You’ve captured the assignment goals very well. I’ll give you a few (of course subjective, and not corrections but observations) suggestions for tightening the writing. Mostly eliminating words that may be redundant, and keeping the story on a tight progression by taking loosely related ideas and placing them elsewhere.

Cliff Boner, clad in a bulky leather jacket, reached into his hidden  (a breast pocket is hidden, almost always) breast pocket, and quickly with premeditation (the idea of premeditation isn’t quite right here, I think. It can be very important, and if so, maybe build it in another scene. Here its presence stops the momentum.) pulled out, and discharged a stun gun. The bright blue strobe pierced the darkness, as a gasp of pain escaped the chapped lips (you might consider another image that is more supportive of scene content, something like “the bleeding lips”) of Harmon Colander. As two million volts of electricity shot through his body making him slump motionless in his chair. (This phrase is awkward. Try getting a verb (contributes to action) with subject, and work on the syntax and fewer words. Here’s a suggestion: “He slumped in the chair as two million volts shot through his body.” I suggest removing some of the ideas to make the following sentences strong. See what you think.  Within seconds Boner was savoringed the moment he looked into Colander’s fearful gaze; he was quite satisfied. He was the powerful carnivore and Colander was the doe, who shuttered in fear.  I would definitely take this out. It’s overly writerly writing, and detracts from the story. He sipped his black, bitter, acidic coffee. This is perfect.

Collander was Twitching twitched (avoid passive constructions) violently and trying tried to form words with his weak lips; Boner leaned over, still overly satisfied by the pain that radiated through with Collander’s body pain.

 “Why?” Collander finally said, weakly.

“I don’t know”

“Oh, you must have some idea.”

Collander looking very confused said, “Money! Was it for money?”

“You know a secret.  And you will share it with me. If not now, then when you are thinking clearly. “

“Leave me alone.”

“No.  Only when you tell me where the car is.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

“You stole it.”

“You have no proof?”

Cliff Boner backhanded him.  Collander’s head snapped to the side fiercely. (Adverbs are tricky. This doesn’t seem the right one for “snapped.”)  He turned his head to face Boner, and spat, the foul blood streaked saliva hitting hit Boner’s on the cheek just under his devious left eye. This seems extraneous, not closely related or necessary for scene.

Overall, it helps to keep single ideas clear with succinct (in an action scene) word choice, avoidance of passive constructions, and a progression of ideas in a smooth logical order (you do this!). Great work. I hope my comments help with creating syntax.

Thanks,
Bill

Instructor Response

Impressive and excellent work. Congratulations. You are a very good writer. Comments below do not indicate mistakes, but are suggestions for you consider as you continue your writing.

‘P’ta humph.’ Harmon Collander slumped to the ground with a hiss of pain. The blue-light strobe accurate and efficient had found its target. (This is awkward syntax in a paragraph of rapid action requiring prose with momentum. As you have it, you have two ideas: description of image light, and then a comment on the nature of strobes, which is rather abstract and nonspecific, and which you might argue is enhancement of description. But always strive for the concrete, be brief and accurate, especially in action scenes. Consider something like this: “The blue-light strobe quickly found Collander’s twitching body and wide-eyed stare.” Not great, but short and to the point, and expresses, I believe, everything you have in your sentences.) Boner at his most lethal. He turned over the body with a brutal kick. He kicked over the twitching body with his left foot and grimaced into Collander’s wide-eyed stare.

‘Where is it?’ he demanded, turning and sauntering (Let him saunter; even if he has to turn, no need to express it.) to the window, his weapon casually by his side.

Collander slunk further into the corner, a snake under the woodpile of chairs,( a confusing image; if you want a metaphor here, create a better one.) his movements awkward with the electricity.  (Electricity doesn’t seem awkward to me and it spoils the nice momentum of the prose.)

‘T… the money?’ He finally got the words out. Use “finally said.”  Look for ways to avoid wordiness.

Boner’s hollow laugh echoed hollowly echoed in the deserted warehouse. This is good scene setting.

‘No. This is a new game. There’s more at stake than the money.’

He Boner (avoid any possibility of confusion with pronoun usage) checked his mobile before levelling the stun gun at Collander, watched him squirm against the rotting cartons, wariness in his eyes.

‘We can do this the easy way…,’ he said as if imitating a B grade actor, ‘or the hard way.’

Rain pummelled the metal roof. Boner’s eyes flicked momentarily (All flicking is inherently brief, no need for redundancy) when the wind slammed a swinging door closed somewhere behind them.

The urgent bip, bip of the phone stabbed through in the din of the storm. (Keep it short. Don’t strive for too much. It leads to overwriting.)  Boner answered, a slight (cliché) quaver in his voice.

‘Yes… Got it… OK.’ His eyes never moved from his quarry.

‘Your master’s voice?’

‘Fuck you!’ His words He delivered a backhander that snapped Collander’s head sideways.

But The volts grounded  (simple past better here than progressive passive). He turned like a cornered cat, (not a good metaphor, it’s hard to imagine) his Spit hitting Boner on the cheek just under the left eye.

Nicely done. Watch for excessive adjectives and adverbs, especially if they don’t add much to the prose—that is, characterization and plot progression. Study metaphor construction, then use only your very best. A bad metaphor in fiction is like a inferior ballet performance; it’s just not very enjoyable.

Thanks for the submission. And all the best. WHC

Instructor Response

Clifford Boner was a rookie on the streets, new to the force, and naïve he walks down the dark alley without back up. The chain length fence marks the property line, reflects the street light into his eyes, and the Doberman barks and alerts the gang members inside the Victorian home someone’s near on the property. Yes! Great!

Smoke Dog walks out on the porch, his tobacco shines an orange ember, (tip of his cigarette? maybe for clarity) the whites of his eyes peek out into the night under the brim of his Yankee’s baseball cap.

Clifford grabs his weapon from the pocket of his leather jacket.

Strobes of light shoot up in the sky, Smoke Dog shoots off a second round. The emergency flare alerts the rest of the gang in the neighborhood there is an intruder. Change to: “there is an intruder in the neighborhood.” Be vigilant for awkward syntax and rhythm (both in the prose and the ideation) on revision.

Smoke Dog lurks in the corner of the porch waiting for Clifford Boner to make the wrong move. His long legs push the porch swing back and forth while he holds his 40 caliber in-between his legs. Any move is the wrong move.Pony Dog stands on top of the roof next door, signals to Smoke Dog on the porch across the alley with a mirror, that Clifford is right there, three feet away. Good.

Smoke Dog fires five shots, reloads, and fires two more. He didn’t think twice. He laughs without hesitation.

Clifford stares Smoke Dog in the eye in fear, rests his head on the roots of a tree that breaks through the sidewalk. Breathless he gasps for air, and glances into the stars. Memories of his wife and kids bombard his thoughts, the beauty of their smiles, the tenderness of their embrace comforts him.  Fingers grip his gun, but he’s too weak, exhaustion sets in, he can’t fire back one shot. Cold one minute, sweaty the next, his body feels the shock. Dying by the second, his words escape him. He’s made a grave mistake.  Yes. A great improvement.

Smoke Dog kicks his side, watches Clifford die in silence, and waits for the right opportunity. Fifteen minutes later both of them search down his body. Both of them steal his wallet, his watch, and a diamond ring from his pocket. Death smells of white sewer.

“What do you say? We have a PIG here, brother.” Pony boy says. He flips through the family photographs, yanks out the twenty dollar bill, and throws his wallet in the sewer on the curb of the street. “We could be spending some hard time for this one.”

“Shut your mouth brother.” Pony Boy says. “We aren’t (maybe “ain’t”?) talking to no one about this.”

“You got that right Homie.” Smoke dog says. “This is all about money and street credentials. This poor loser don’t have no brains popping up on these streets. What’s wrong with him man.”

“What’s wrong with you, killing a cop?” Pony Boy pops him one in the eye. “You stupid brother.”  (maybe “bro” for :brother”?  In dialogue, you want to be sure each character is speaking from his or her own world view.  Pony boy seems like an opportunity to increase quality in the writing by using a consistent vernacular.) He says.

Smoke Dog punches him in the gut. “I am doing this for the money.” He says. “You’re the one that signaled to me. I should pop you one brother. Keep your mouth closed.”

Wow. You’ve done it well. One point about storytelling: look to insert suspense and mystery in the writing. This is often done when conflict situations occur. Think about Clifford dying in silence. Dead people make lousy characters. Why not keep Clifford alive until the end of the scene even if he says nothing, doesn’t move, and we don’t know his thoughts? Suspense to the end! He’s there and he’s alive, and he’s a better character alive than as a corpse. And when he dies, dramatize it. It’s an important moment, and you miss an opportunity when you have him die silently.

Good going. And all the best. WHC

Instructor Response

Jamileh sat slumped on the couch in front of her TV, inhaling the tiny nub that remained of her joint. As she eased forward towards the ashtray, the caravan door burst open. Tony appeared, his eyes landing on Jamileh. He charged towards her, raised a fist-sized taser and planted 2 million volts into her side. She crumpled to the floor as Tony stepped back and pulled a chair out from under the picnic table.  You’re in action here, and the setting detail slows down the action.

This first paragraph is good. It’s important, too. So let me be picky about the way you’ve arranged the ideas. The idea about introducing characterization with the “joint” description is misplaced. You want to keep the reader focused on what’s happening. Characterize later. I’ve also removed words that seem unnecessary; these words tend to blunt the effect of action. “Landing,” specifically. See if removal doesn’t make the phrase more effective for you. And if you’re going to use a verb form there, try something like “fixing.” which is more accurate than “landing” (which seems a little impossible for eyes to do—look at definitions, I found only one that had the application here). Whenever possible, look for more accurate words.

Jamileh groaned.

“You know what we’ve come for.”

Jamileh looked outside the open door. A man in a suit as big as a refrigerator misplaced modifier. The suit or the man is “big as a refrigerator”?  And you can use a better metaphor, too (it’s hard to visualize a man that big except in fantasy), or maybe just not use a metaphor here. stood by a black vehicle. “I want my money,” she wheezed.

“I’ll give it to you once I get every copy of that video. Images, files, whatever you’ve got – hand them over.”

“How do I know you’ll pay me?”

Tony lurched forward and slammed the stun gun against her lower back. She screamed.
Tony stood up. “Where are you hiding it?” He bent towards her and frisked each pocket of her jeans. Retrieving her mobile, he slipped it into his breast pocket. Then he surveyed the room, his gaze landing on the kitchen bench and an open mac book. He picked it up. “It’s all in here, isn’t it?”

Jamileh levered herself up so that her back was against the couch.

“God help me girl. If there are any copies of that file lying around, or if you’ve saved them onto the internet, this is exposition in dialogue and should be avoided. It’s the author giving details that the character would not think about in this high-tension scene. If you think the information is essential, you might use a back-and-forth exchange between them, or maybe have the narrator insert the possibilities. this is your last chance to speak up.”

She looked up at Tony but said nothing.

He grinned.

The big man in black who’d been standing out front  this is unnecessary since it’s implied he’s outside when he pokes his head through the door. Important to be concise. poked his head through the open door.  “We better go, Prime Minister.”

Tony strolled Wouldn’t “walked” be better? Does “stroll” (as through the park) really do what you want here? to the door, paused and turned to Jamileh.

“You’ll get the money when all this is clear. Or I’ll have your arse – again.”

He hopped out of the caravan and left.

Good work. The exercise points up a need for careful word choice, and avoiding exposition in dialogue. Also be sure to keep ideas integrated and interlocked, avoid non sequiturs and misplaced images, ideas, or actions.

Best,

WHC

Instructor Response

Thanks, Russ, for the submission. It’s well done. Congratulations!

Here are comments.

Vance stood up to confront his rival, and froze when the gun poked him in the ribs.

          “You’re taking me to Nashla,” Derrick said. “Now.”

          Nashla always said that Derrick was nuts. Vance thought she was exaggerating, the way former girlfriends sometimes did. Now he worried how crazy the guy actually was.

          Funny, a moment ago, Vance thought his life was over; cut from Triple A ball, at age twenty-seven. He had been sitting in the Graytown Tiger’s stands, trying to consider what he should do. He couldn’t imagine living without baseball.  This is backstory. It stops the very efficient action you have going and seems like expository information that should go elsewhere, maybe established in another section, or buried in the action. Backstory has an entirely different feel than front story. It can be used well when it advances front story in the immediacy of story present, but that is not often. Here, you might consider already-mentioned alternatives to maintain the integrity of the scene and action that you’ve so nicely put together. 1) You might start the section with this information, put it on a time line that will carry the reader into the present section. 2) You might take individual chips of information and embed them in the scene, say, as a modifier of a fleeting image or thought. Now, in the hands of an unstable fool, he realized he did not want to die. 

          Vance had glared silently at Derrick walking across the infield. He should have acted on his initial impulse, and punched the guy as soon as he got close.  Here you take the reader back again to a happening. In the next sentence you are back in the present. Too late now, but there was no way was he going to lead this nutball to Nashla.  Next two sentences are back in story present.  Fortunately, Nashla had left town, because she knew Derrick was coming. Vance had begged her not to go, said that she was overreacting.

          Now we’re back in story present.  “Okay. Okay.” He tried to sound casual, but his voice wavered. Derrick jutted out his chin and poked him once more.

          “You don’t need a gun,” Vance said, “She’s doesn’t want anything to do with you anyway.”

          Derrick leaned in close to his ear, “She’s going to have to tell me that herself. You think I’m going to believe a hang-on right fielder that’s been screwing my girl?”  He growled. He grabbed the back of Vance’s collar and dragged him across the field to an old Volvo. “You drive.” Derrick tossed him the keys.

          His hands felt sweaty against the cold steering wheel. If only he had more time to think, but Nashla’s apartment was only two blocks away. He couldn’t pretend to get lost in a town as small as Graytown. He drove slowly. Derrick leaned against the passenger side door, the gun barrel never wavering.  Great movement and nicely written.

          Nashla said that Derrick had only physically abused her once, but that he constantly berated her. He told her she was lucky to be with him, an athlete on his way to becoming a star, while she was a mere waitress in a second rate bar in a third rate town. When he was promoted to AA ball, she declined to go with him. That’s when he hit her. Vance gripped the steering wheel tightly. He hadn’t known her then, and Derrick was gone before Vance came to town, so he hadn’t seen her black eye.  Again, backstory. There is a sort of flow to your backstory/front story alterations, and it may work well for you at times. But consider that the writing and the storytelling could be stronger of you took all the backstory and exposition and tried to bring it into the story chronologically.

          Vance chanced a glance at his abductor. Derrick appeared feverish. His eyes darted back and forth between him and the road. “Don’t try to fool me. I know she doesn’t live on Benton any longer.” The gun began shaking in his hand. Vance passed Benton Avenue, proceeding to her new apartment on Spencer.  Great.

          He [use noun here for clarity—Vance—it’s clearer later on, but don’t let fuzzy pronoun referrals weaken your writing] dug for his key and opened the door. It was dark. He prayed she hadn’t decided to come home. Derrick pushed him inside. He stumbled and fell to the floor. Then, looking up, he stared into the barrel of the gun. It was just a handgun but it appeared huge, blocking everything else in his line of vision.

          “There’s nobody in here,” Derrick said. “What are you trying to pull?”

          “Nothing. She must have gone out.”

          “How do I even know she lives here? I should shoot you right now.”

          His (Vance’s) stomach turned into knots, afraid to give her away. Then what would happen?  (In Vance’s POV). “No. She still keeps a picture of you. It’s under the lamp. Right there.”

          Derrick walked across the living room, flicked on the lamp and lifted it. (Narrator POV.)  The picture was still there. That was how Vance had recognized Derrick in the first place: Derrick, holding Nashla in an arm lock, in one of those five and dime photo booths. He didn’t tell Derrick that Nashla kept it there to reminder herself never to be so needy again.  This backstory is very effective; it contributes to the front story understanding and movement. (Note, however, that you went into narrator telling through Vance’s character when you delivered backstory.)

          Derrick sneered. “So where the fuck is she?”

          Vance’s features went blank. “I’m not going to tell you.” He felt tight in the chest.  

          Derrick’s face flushed.  (Here you’re in solid narrator perspective. Perfectly acceptable, but you might consider restructuring it in Vance’s perspective for consistency and impact. It may seem a petty point, but it’s how a good writer, as you are, becomes really good.)  He raised the gun. Vance put his hands out, feebly trying to ward away an expected bullet.

          Derrick raised the gun up over his head and sent it crashing into Vance’s face. He crumpled to a heap. Moaning, he tried to crawl to a standing position. (The construction seems off. Does one crawl to a standing position? Maybe: “Moaning, he crawled then tried to stand.”) Halfway up, Derrick cracked him again across the face.  (In narrator perspective and well done.) Then there was nothing. (This seems to be Vance’s perspective, but could be the narrator too, since you are in narrative perspective to this point. It may help to always ask, “Who is telling the story at this instant?” and be sure it’s clear to the reader and the perspective that does you, the author, the most good for entertaining your reader and keeping him or her engaged. (For example, you could put this into Vance’s perspective like this: “Vance’s world went dark.” Or, “Derrick’s image blurred [Vance’s perspective] and then there was nothing.”)

Just great going.  Lots of action well presented.

There is always the danger as a teacher of discouraging a student through too much critique. But you’re good at the storytelling with lots of momentum and conflict, so I’ve chosen to give some detailed pointers that might be helpful.

            1) When writing, think of a time line that relates to story present. In general, keep your story moving along that time line using backstory only rarely and when it doesn’t stop story flow. Then, learn to insert necessary backstory information seamlessly into the story in story time.

            2) Look to perspective shifts in the writing. Be sure the perspective you want to convey is clear to the writer. Your choices are: one or more of the characters, the narrator, and, rarely if ever, the author in your style of writing. Perspectives are mostly descriptive skills. They are like point of view, but point of view carries more weight and often depends on either the narrator’s or a character’s worldview, experiences, emotions, opinions, memories etc., as well as immediate and general perspective. So point of view is limited to a character’s or the narrator’s worldview that is specific to the time you’ve given the character to live. Perspective in scene is limited to the immediacy of the scene, and perspective in general is limited to what a specific character or narrator can perceive in the story world. (This relates in your story to where Vance and the narrator’s perspectives are used, and the narrator perspective is more distant, Vance’s more immediate. Both are satisfactory as you used them.) So be careful not to accidentally violate perspectives in scene, or points of view, in storytelling in general. It makes your writing weaker than your capabilities. But I emphasize, you can change perspective with great effect but it must be under your control, not accidental. Don’t let it stop the reader. Again, it makes the writing fuzzy if you’re sloppy, and doesn’t allow the story to be as effectively transmitted to the reader as it should.

Instructor Response

Harmon Collander sat on a metal chair, hands tied behind his back, head down, drooling like he belonged in a home.  This may seem picky, but if you can stick with the suggestion, it can catapult your story quality. You are in scene. The imagery is good. The reader has a formed image and the sentence has action and relates to the story. But look at the simile “like he belonged to a home.” This is writerly. It is an author’s thought/opinion and not relevant to what you’ve started, namely pulling the reader into scene and creating a mental picture. The metaphor jerks the reader from your purpose. Cliff Boner watched him, drinking coffee, should he wake. He did. Here is an example of how you can improve your prose storytelling. Don’t use a lot of words when a few will do. The purpose of this sentence is to advance the action, the plot. Essentially, “he woke.” So, cut this in your own way, and stick to a definitive purpose for the sentence. Collander inhaled as though he had been holding his breath. Again, try to avoid wordiness; subconsciously readers will register this as bad writing. Readers want clarity and purpose expressed succinctly. Without moving his head, Does this do anything for scene, plot, or characterization? You might argue yes, but it isn’t much. You might go with “Colander peered up at Boner.” Keep it simple. Don’t write to write. Write to help the reader have a pleasurable experience. he opened his eyes and peered up at Boner. “Ya prick, all you had to do was ask nice like. I woulda come.” A nice segment of dialogue. It reveals character and is in a distinct character voice. Use an attribution for clarity.

It may seem I’m a little hard on you in this paragraph. And I’ll ease up as we go along. My wish is to show you the way to effective scene writing and admirable storytelling. These are the skills that make every story (and every story that has been told) uniquely yours. Make it great. You have the talent. And a good ear. Work to learn the skills of effective presentation.

He poured coffee from a French press into a porcelain cup. “Hey, my wife got me a taser for Christmas. What do you want me to do? Shoot the dog?” He tasted his coffee. “You know, they make this coffee outta monkey shit. Not bad.”  Nice. I’d place an attribution after “shit” for rhythm and emphasis. Like this maybe: “…monkey shit,” he said. He laughed. “Not bad.” Minor, maybe, but it’s what will make you a really good writer.

Collander tried to move but his tied feet were . “Whattaya want, ya prick?.”

“Might I suggest that you are not in a position to be calling people names. And you know goddamn well what I want.”  Nice. Good character-specific dialogue that is both interesting and informative. You’re good at this.

Collander raised his head finally and moved it from side to side. He spit a tooth. “The taser wasn’t enough for ya, ya had to clobber me?”

“You were hopping around making a terrible noise. Had to shut you up.”

“All right, you shut me up.” He gazed around the room. “What is this shit hole?”

Boner smiled. “You’re acting as though you’re the one standing over me with a shiny new taser and an anger problem. I don’t want to tell you what to do, but a little more respect in your voice wouldn’t hurt.” He put on a leather glove. “And this ‘shit hole,’ as you so delicately call it, is my basement. It’s going to be easier to clean when I’m finished with you.” Again, good dialogue. Conflict and revelation effectively used.

“You should get a new decorator.”

Boner put down his cup with a clatter and stood. “Where is it?”

“Where’s wha–”

Before Collander could speak Boner crashed his fist into his crushed his nose, knocking him to the floor back onto the plastic sheet he had put down for this discussion. This is a suggestion to focus you. Don’t let your ideation wander by choosing ineffective images and ideas. But if indeed you see the plastic sheet playing a role in the plot later, my apologies. Collander coughed and spit, and made sounds as though he might choke on his own blood, spit, and teeth. Boner righted the chair. He sat by the coffee, and poured another cup.

“You know,” Boner said, “I hate to do this. I have guys that do this for me, but I have a personal interest in your case. First of all, you’re my cousin. If anyone is going to be drilling eyeballs or cutting off fingers, it’s gonna be me. But before we get to that, just answer the question.”

Collander spit out more teeth, along with bloody slobber, some of which hit Boner in the face.

“Ah, you fucking animal,” Boner said, wiping his cheek, “you’d gag a maggot.”

Collander’s smile exposed what were left of his teeth. “Even now, you’re one funny prick.”

Boner put his cup down and got up again. He reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out the taser. “Is that right? Well, I’m about to do some stand-up. Let’s see if you think two-million volts is a good punch line. He pointed the instrument at Collander’s head.

“No, please pleeth,” (which he now said as “pleeth.”)

“Where is it?”

Collander put his head down and started to sob and scream simultaneously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cliffy, really.”

“Harmie, Harmie, Harmie, how did we come to this? I send you with my boys to buy a couple hundred keys from the spics, and you take my money. Either you’re going to tell me what you did with the money, and die with only moments of utter fucking pain, or you’re not going to tell me, in which case you will die after about four days of utter fucking pain. And so will your wife and kid.”

“But Cliffy–”

Boner pulled the trigger, sending the electrodes into Collander’s forehead. Collander shivered, spat, and foamed. Boner pulled out the leads.

Collander had quit with the jokes and the defiance. He had quit lying, and he had quit breathing.

Boner kicked Collander and his chair over. “Ah, you cocksucker, you robbed me again. You never could take it.” He sat, poured another cup of coffee, and thought about how he would get the wife and kids down there.

This is just great. And enjoyable reading! Your dialogue is excellent–character specific, advancing plot, subtle exposition, and emoting feelings in the moment. Don’t let my emphasis on your tendency to wordiness, and occasionally slipping to extraneous ideation to fill space, in any way discourage you or make you feel bad about a really nice and effective revision. I also liked what you left out in revision. It strengthened the writing and the story progression. You’re doing great. And thanks for the submission. Keep in touch! WHC

Instructor Response

Really well done! You’ve got everything moving well, logically and with clarity. I’ll make suggestions to tidy up the prose below, and with comments here and there.

Thanks for the submission.

WHC

Instructor Response

Very well done! The scene has movement, the writing is clear, there is a clear sense of strong emotions, and there is significant characterization in a short period of time. I’ve put in-text comments in a couple of places as suggestions for clarity. Then after that, I suggest rewriting the same scene with a different purpose and a different emphasis. I’ll explain later. If you decide to do it, it will let you practice to gain even more control and flexibility. Not that you don’t have good skills already. The suggestion for the new exercise is for practice, and not meant that you need to do anything major with what you’ve nicely developed.

(1)

It was hard to control my rage when Sam knocked at my door.  I’d trusted that traitor most of my life.  I could see his discomfort.  He knew why I was mad.  Just to let you know, I didn’t know the protagonist’s gender. If this were a piece to stand alone, it would be important to indicate that in some subtle way early.

When I shut the door Sam fidgeted with a belt loop on his jeans.

I never even wanted to own a weapon, and here I was pulling one on my best friend.  I didn’t like the feeling when my hand touched the pistol tucked into my jacket. You might want to condense the information in these two sentences. As is, the idea about being uncomfortable with the gun is referred to twice, albeit in slightly different ways, and this becomes wordy and the pacing slows a little. What if you did something like: “My hand touched the pistol tucked inside my jacket–cold and unfamiliar. I gripped it reluctantly and pointed it at my best friend.” This is not how you would do it, but see how that information is still there, just condensed. I did like the way Sam’s face stretched in shock when he saw it.  I didn’t really want to hurt him; I just wanted to find out where he’d hidden Sara.  My little girl was worth whatever it took to protect her.

“Put that up,” Sam said.  “This isn’t you.”

I had to use my left hand to steady the shaking gun.  I was committed now, and if I had to shoot I didn’t want to miss.  I’d come so close to losing Sara too many times.  I wasn’t going to let Sam take her. I’d delete this. It states the obvious, what the reader already knows. And it weakens the writing.

“Where is she?  I don’t want to kill you, but I will.” Needs “I said” as attribution. For rhythm. But also to make clear who is speaking. Although it is clear if the reader stops and thinks about it–or just passes over it, but you don’t want the reader stopping or going on without really knowing who said this until the next paragraph. This is true even when you say, “Where is she?” It takes a second for the reader to figure out that only one of the two characters could have said this. Appropriate attribution is never detrimental to your writing style. When you revise, be sure to look for places where it is needed. That’s your gift to the reader!

“You’re overreacting Jim,” Sam said.  I could see him sweat – stains beginning to form on the chest of his red t-shirt.  I wondered how much blood would show on an already red shirt. Think about not filtering this information through the character (The “I could see”). This is an ideal time to consider a narrator function, which can be done without coming out of the POV. Consider:  “You’re overreacting, Jim,” Sam said.  Sweat stains darkened his red shirt.  If I shot him, would the blood show?

“How am I overreacting?  The Petersons saw her get in your car and leave.  I know how you are.  Did you knock her up like that brunette in Ohio?  Or did you talk her into running off with you?”

“It’s not like that,” Sam said.  “I know what you think of me, but I wouldn’t do that to her.  She’s like a daughter to me.”

“No, she’s a daughter to me,” I said.  “She’s your best friend’s young kid who happens to be pretty and single.  If you slept with her I’ll kill you.”  This is too much exposition in dialogue. Strive to find a way to present it better, maybe not in dialogue. But if you think it is crucial for the story here, restructure it. Maybe, “My beautiful single kid.  And I swear, if you slept with her, I’ll put a bullet in your heart.”

“I didn’t touch her,” Sam said.  “I swear.”  Delete. Doesn’t do enough, and becomes baggage for the writing

“How many women did you trick over the years, Sam?” I asked.  “How many?”

“I don’t know,” he said.  “It never mattered before.  I haven’t been with anyone but Jenny for five years.  Don’t bring the past into this.  I’ve never hurt a woman.”  Delete yellow. Words and ideas not needed here. As is, stands as overwriting.

“She’s Who?  Who’s talking?  been weird for the last few months, and now I know why.  She won’t talk to me; she won’t even hang out with her friends anymore.  How long has this been going on?  I’ll have you up on statutory rape.”  Break this dialogue up with action or reflection. Ideas coming too fast and furious here.

“Jim, put the gun down,” he whined, and it irritated me that he was still denying the obvious.

I knew he wasn’t going to tell me anything.  Dad used to say, “Put up or shut up”.  It was that time.  Delete. Don’t stop the action.  I raised the gun so that it was pointing at the center of Jim’s forehead, right over the wrinkles.  If I couldn’t get him to tell me where Sara was, I could at least make sure she was safe.

“Don’t tell me you never hurt a woman.  She (Jenny or Sara? It’s important not to be obscure here.) looks hurt, Sam.  She looks worn out, and I’ve seen the bruises on her arms.  I just didn’t know who was making them.”

“Jim please put the gun down.  I promised her (again, Sara?) I wouldn’t tell anyone where she went.  Don’t make me break a promise.”

Just a flicker of doubt made me lower the gun.  Jim was a jerk, and he was a letch until he’d met Jenny, but he’d never turned on me.  Still, I’d watched Sara waste away in front of me. This needs clarification. It’s confusing, the relationship between Sara and Jenny and the story and the characters.

I couldn’t do it.  I looked at the bastard standing there with tears running down his face, and I just couldn’t pull the trigger.  Instead I took one hand off the gun and hit him across the jaw with my fist.  Slight loss of logic here. The way this sentence is, it probable he hits him with the gun. Yet it is a fist. Try: “He fell and held the spot where my fist had landed.” Change to “I had hit him,” that is, delete yellow and add red. (I’m not real happy with this, but you’ll get the idea and possibly consider doing it your way.)

I put the gun near his head and shot into the sofa.  The sharp smell of urine filled the room.

“They weren’t bruises.  They were track marks!  Don’t shoot me.  I just took her to rehab.”  Great! Does a lot of work well.

I dropped the gun and sat beside him, my face buried in my hands.  I heard the door slam as Sam fled from my house, but it didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered anymore.  Also very good. Effective scene resolution and characterization.

Now consider writing this scene in the third person from a narrator’s POV and with narrator’s free access to both characters’ thoughts and feelings. Keep the motivations the same. Keep the scene action and movement the same. You’ll find that the delivery of information in narrative and dialogue will change, and you’ll be producing different effects on the reader.  You may also find that clarity for the reader will be less of a problem. First-person POV has limitations of perspective, credibility, reliability, and voice. Practicing a new POV may help write the first POV more effectively. I think it would be time well spent, not as correction, but as practice.

WHC

Instructor Response

A very well done scene that could serve as opening. Look what you’ve accomplished: two characters introduced and characterization begun; a definitive immediate conflict; hint of a longer conflict; excellent scene momentum with action moving forward logically and well paced; emotions established and emotional lines of change present; prose is excellent; POV well established and shifts in POV are effective. The scene is engaging, and establishes a voice and style that will make readers want to continue.

What you’ve done doesn’t need changing. However, I’ve bolded two points that are teaching opportunities, especially for a writer at your level of accomplishment.

First, “It is beautiful.” Necessary information. But note how the construction shifts the POV to the narrator. This is, of course, fine when it has a purpose, and you do it extremely well throughout the piece. But would staying in the POV of Harmon be more effective? You’re in his POV. And isn’t this, as his observation, important to the reader? Does the reader really care what the narrator might think about the beauty? Anyway, the word “beauty” is abstract and subjective. Couldn’t you–by word choice and structure–visualize what Harmon is specifically enthralled by as beauty? And the construction is passive. It might be a perfect time to maintain visualization and motion by avoiding the passive. So there are opportunities: specificity, action, POV strengthening by consistency, characterization by establishing what exactly makes Harmon see it as beautiful.

Here are some ideas. The problem is keeping the pacing you’ve so well established, so, a lot of words are not needed.

1. The bright sun’s shadows on the frieze surrounding the portico illuminated the Greek figures in relief. (Not great, but you can see information being transferred, and you’re still definitely in Harmon’s POV).

2. He imagined the entrance to Cleopatra’s great library in Alexandria. (Beauty inserted, some imagery, out of passive construction, POV same, specificity.)

3. The towering entrance with Corinthian columns made him think of the Acropolis. (Visualization by reader of Harmon’s idea of beauty.)

4. Students waiting for the opening admired the beauty of the stone construction, the delicate beauty standing alone in the rubble of the disaster-ravaged city. (Way too much for this paragraph, but gives you an idea of how to develop reader-oriented alternatives to weak spots.)

5. He loved the symmetry of the two wings around the main building, and the glass-enclosed pyramidal entrance that reflected every color of the sun’s spectrum.

The dialogue “Where is it?” could be more functional. It is redundant, really. It seems to act as fill for this moment in the action. Here are some approaches at revision that enhance characterization and plot development:

1. “Did you hide it in the crematorium?”
2. “You cheating bastard.”
3. “Does Janice know where it is? Did you tell her?”
4. “Did you destroy it? Was that where you were last night?”

Of course, none of these are for you. I just want you to see how dialogue can work for the story and the reader.  The idea in dialogue is to make any utterance multipurpose.

You don’t need to change anything. Your piece is fine. I’ve just attempted to show you how to identify and enhance opportunities that will continue your well-established path to excellent writing.

All the best,

WHC

Instructor Response

Good work, very nicely done. You created a clear happening with emotions flowing (so special to fiction). Dialogue is excellent. Pacing perfect.

Below are inserted comments. Much of it is related to style and is intended mostly to make you aware of alternatives that might make little changes in the readers’ readings of the passage so that there is no chance of their being ejected from the fictional dream setting you’ve created. 

“I don’t know.”

   “You’re lying.”

   There was pause. Cliff Boner slammed his palms against the table and looked at Colander in the eye. He stared at him long and hard. The other man was seated, chained down with tight handcuffs. His skin itched and his fingers twitched.

   “Tell me.”

   “I told you I don’t know.”

   There was pain. Colander’s head snapped to the side. He bit down on his tongue and turned his head to face Boner. His eye hurt and his cheek was swollen. The man hit hard.

   “Don’t lie to me. You were in the getaway car. You were directly affiliated with his men. We have witnesses. You have nothing.”

   Colander raised his chin. He narrowed his eyes at the man above, his lips flattening out into a thin line.

   “They dragged me into the car. I’m just a driver. They hired me. I needed the work, but I didn’t know that they were criminals. I’m not lying-“

   “Of course you are!” Boner cut him off.  He was seething. “The fact that we caught you is enough. Cut the crap, Colander. We don’t need your lies. You’re just making this harder.”

   Colander frowned. He wondered what was right to say. He wondered what Boner wanted him to say. He wondered.

   “I’m not lying.”

   It was the wrong thing to say.  This narrator comment–you might argue it’s an example of free indirect style where the speaker could be the character but also others. Might not be necessary here. You’ve got the scene moving, and some readers might pause for a second and think, who’s this speaking? I thought we were in Colander’s head. Something to consider for style refinement.)

   There was a flash (Word choice? A flash of darkness is hard to visualize. You might use the idea of shadow or light extinguished to fit the action. It’s a subtle effect, but a wrong word can stop the flow momentarily. Again, a judgment call.)  of sudden darkness as Boner’s body hunched over him. His figure blocked out the light from the bulbs above.  This is a repetition of the darkness idea. Maybe incorporate this into the first sentence and if you need something here for pacing, think of something else that is occurring, something with action . . . not static. Boner’s hand gripped Colander’s arm and they struggled, the table proving no use as a barrier. Something slammed into Colander’s side. He winced This is a slight POV shift (something that seems to be observed outside his consciousness rather than felt by him), which is totally acceptable, but might be restructured, that is his wincing, so that we know the reaction still in his point of view and not outside. Although seemingly minor, at your level of writing, these small points are important for even more perfection.  as surges of electricity shot through him, shocking his nerves and hurting his head.

   He bit down on his lips, hard, and muffled his own scream. I’d try ellipses here, for pacing. (Like this: He bit down on his lips . . . hard . . . and muffled his own scream.) A single chaotic noise erupted from his throat but died on his sore lips. Bitter vomit rose and he swallowed it down painfully.

   “This is what happens when you lie.” This needs attribution. Who is speaking? Make it absolutely clear for the reader.

   This is what happens when I don’t say what you don’t want to hear, Colander thought.  This is personal preference, but I like thoughts in italics. I changed it to show you what I mean.  He took in a deep breath and tried to jerk away. His hands were still restrained. The handcuffs dug deep into his skin.

   “…They were targeting the media headquarters,” said Colander. His voice was raspy.

   Boner grinned.

   “That’s more like it.” He sat down.

   Colander spoke silently, his voice calm and raspy, his eyes downcast, and the handcuffs heavy on his irritated skin.

I hope this is helpful. Great work, and thanks for submitting. Best regards, WHC

Instructor Response

Excellent work. Of particular note is the pleasing pacing of your revision, and the tempered yet well-delivered plot line, which delivers enough information, mainly through dialogue and narrative, to divulge enough but not too much.

The dialogue is crisp, informative and credible. The plot with investment banking is also interesting, but if you were to keep this as part of a larger work, you’d want to be sure the plot didn’t have an I’ve-seen-this-one-before feel for the reader. Always seek something unique (I don’t think you would have a problem imagining something useful). Also the specificity demonstrated by “Glock” is good (rather than “gun” or “pistol”). 

Details such as “high school mate” add a lot. And they tilt the passage toward the literary. There seems to be controversy over genre vs. literary and whether there should be a “literary” distinction in fiction (most of it pseudo-intellectual babble). Character-based fiction with theme and meaning about what it means to be human is fun to write and adds to the significance of a work. Your introduction in even this short revision of a past relationship–a hint of human interaction that will affect the story–moves the potential for the force of action in the plot to be a cause-and-effect to the characters’ desires and motives, and the conflicts that result. This line indicates you’re thinking like a literary writer even if that is not your ultimate goal in writing.  

The dialogue line “You smell like shit!” rings true for the character and the situation. But pause for a moment and consider the opportunity to enhance the imagery and immediacy of the scene. “Like shit” is a nonspecific simile. Consider a different metaphor, which you might deliver in description (maybe even internal monologue, although you’d lose a little of the pacing) what the actual smell was like. It would take some thinking, but could add that little extra that elevates the prose.  

Thanks for participating.