First 250 Words Smash! #1

Most Wonderful Author: HNW
Most Evil Critique Master: Sarah

I wasn’t alone – there was a presence in the night, a definite other that lurked, hidden, between the silky black folds of an almost unnatural twilight. I heard it whispering to me in the wind, felt it touch my bare cheeks, tug at my hair, its breath against the back of my neck. Standing in the center of the crossroads, the small tin box shaking my hands, I didn’t know what was worse – being alone and isolated miles away from the protection of my family, or being in the presence of this other. I certainly didn’t want to be out there with it, but I had no other choice – this was my only opportunity to set things right, to fix everything, and put it all back to the way it was. The way it should be. 

Dad always told us we should never go to a crossroads at midnight, because that’s where the Devil waits to trick foolish people into selling their souls. But I knew exactly what was I doing – the Devil couldn’t trick me if I was willing to give my soul to him. He could have it – it was broken and ripped up anyways. I was willing to do whatever was necessary to put things back to the way they were, to stop the dawn from approaching.

Sinking to my knees onto the cold and frozen earth, I clawed a hole in the dirt just big enough to fit the tin.

Strong Points –

Intrigue. Yes, I felt it. There is a sense of something looming, and an effortless sense of voice and character. I like the feeling of this intangible yet palpable second being, gives this sense of something WATCHING her, and I like that creeping feeling.

The question of “What the heck is happening?” is generated. The scene is set up without delay. The reader moves right into action without confusion, and the action doesn’t feel like action for the sake of action. In less than 250 words, I’ve got a subtle sense of the surroundings, the character, and the situation. This is a good intro.

Some Tips –

The points that I think need work are also some of the things that I like best, things that I think could be made even better.

I like that we’re feeling this omnipotent second presence, but try to stay away from words like “I felt” and “I heard” or “I saw” or “I tasted”. Words like these remove your reader one step away from the sensations you’re creating. You want to suck in your reader as deep into your narrative as you can, and any words that remind them they’re reading a story will hinder your intent to do so.

“I heard it whispering to me in the wind” is stronger as “It whispered to me in the wind.” And, of course, you can even take the phrasing further, get creative, really push it if you want to. I’m sure you could sift through your whole manuscript and find a plethora of these ticks. Challenge yourself to rework your sentences without them. You’ve got the skill in you, I can tell, it’s just a matter of really recognizing it.

The next thing: italics. There’re lots. A heavy emphasis from italics is exhausting to read, and it’s actually better to use no italics at all than too many.

One trick I use is that I put in all the italics I think I need while I write, and then when I go back to reread, I read the whole sentence without any italics. If the sentence’s meaning does not change without the italicized word(s), you don’t need the italics.

As an example: “You took her panties?” versus “You took her panties?”

See the difference? The story behind the two sentences is completely different.

The next thing: dashes. The same rules apply. Dashes can do awesome things, like change the direction of action or provide insight, and they’re fun for dialogue. However, too many, especially when some sound like replacements for colons or semicolons, is not mustering the potential of the almighty dash.

Instead, try putting periods in exchange for dashes (or periods for semicolons, because semicolons give me hives and it’s my personal mission to eradicate them). Your very first sentence, for example, would stand so much stronger as simply: “I wasn’t alone.”

Bam.

First sentence.

How could you turn that down?

There’s so much power in brevity. The last sentence of that paragraph is a good example of both brevity and, coincidentally, the best usage of a fragment: “The way it should be.” I, the reader, want to know what that means. What is the way it should be? What’s going on?!

Would I Keep Reading?

Most likely. The beginning does read a bit prologue-y to me, but I would most likely read until the conflict is resolved, unless the more substantial premise of the story drags me right in. In this case, I would certainly test the waters and continue further.

This is a strong piece, and it can be made stronger. Good luck ♡

Are you addicted to your cell phone?

About a year and a half ago, I surprised Victoria by doodling her a pair of Converse for her birthday:

If you want to see the full details, you can go to my old and neglected and pretty much abandoned Deviant Art page. I'm a very visual person, and that site is my favorite place to go to be inspired. (Er, when viruses aren't attacking me, which they often do through that website, so I guess this is a warning to you or something? To not drop the bar of soap while you're there?)

It was thoroughly challenging, and I'm supposed to do it again, but it's such a tedious process, and it was about a million degrees at the time, with thunderstorms, and a surprising lack of Advil for my back after hunching over the shoes all day.

But, as I've noticed, people don't really see the shoes when Victoria wears them. People are increasingly buried nose-deep in their phones -- while in their cars, in classrooms, or even walking from one place to the next. More than enough times someone has very nearly collided with me because they wouldn't look up from their phone for half a second, and that's both on the road and simply walking. I seriously need pedestrian insurance against other pedestrians now.

I'm an introvert by nature. I don't really engage in much conversation because I'm socially inept. I'm the type that's conscious of everything I say or do or where I'm looking or how I'm fidgeting or if I'm being weird.

I mean, I AM weird.

But.

I'd rather people didn't readily know that.

So, for the most part, I used to like to sit and listen to people. Yes, I'm the weird girl that listens to one girl badmouth another girl -- or one boy badmouth another boy, either way. I find I don't get to do that anymore, because people interact less and less and less.

Class used to have more people awkwardly engaging in conversation before the session began. Now, everyone's on their phones, talking to people they already know, not really meeting anyone new. People are engaged less and less in their surroundings. Once when I was walking through a mall, I watched a mother and daughter walking side-by-side, both of them texting on their phones and probably talking to each other.

I was like:

And, well, maybe they have their reasons. Maybe Mom runs her business through her phone, and that's why she's on her phone all the time.

If that's the case, I might say she's instead addicted to her business.

Addiction, in any case, is baaaaad.

It's an interesting concept, though. What if, in the future, we're all addicted to our phones or tablets or computers, and we share little contact, and see the world always through a screen? Technology is doing more and more for us -- heck, cars will be able to drive US in the near future (which is sort of a blessing). What happens when we only know how to see each other through screens? What happens when the digital world takes over the physical world?

Personally, I think I might go live amongst the trees and talk to all of them and name them and gossip about them when they're not looking.

What do you think?

Do you have word tics?

Probably.

Most likely.

Even the great people of the world do.

So, what are these mystical "Word Tics"? They're quite elusive and strangely addicting. You use them mindlessly, and although you don't even notice them, oftentimes they gut your narrative with repetition.

When I finished one of my previous manuscripts, my victory swag took over. I know no first draft is perfect, but hot dang, I felt pretty darn close to it. Then, I took a trip to this fantastic free word cloud generator called Wordle, dumped all 100k into the generator, and then promptly received five smacks in the face.

This is what it looked like.

Yuck.

Really?

I did that? No way. There was no way. I couldn't remember a single time I'd used the word "back", or "around". Yes, "eyes" was an obvious one, because eyes are a primary tool for emotion and reactions, and...

And.......

And then I took a closer look.

I started with the first chapter, did the awesome action "ctrl + f " on the word "around", and promptly received five more smacks in the face. Actually, it was probably about ten smacks, with finding the word "around" at least once per page. AT LEAST.

It is word dependency, essentially. I'd grown so dependent on these words that I couldn't think outside using them. So, I embarked on a long journey of training and discipline: I went through the entire manuscript for each of the above words, and I decided, one by one, whether or not I absolutely NEEDED the word, or if I could change it -- and make the sentence BETTER.

Many times I could omit the word entirely:

"I turned around."

Which became simply:

"I turned."

I love brevity. Anyone who knows me knows I cuddle and whisper sweet nothings with brevity. I discovered that I liked "I turned" in all its two-word sentence power.

A different example:

"I looked around."

This became:

"I observed the area."

Variation in your narrative is important. It keeps things fresh, challenges you to use different words and different ways to write the same things. It challenges you to get CREATIVE, which you'd better be doing while you're writing. And if you can't think of anything, then mark it, leave it, come back later with a fresh brain. An epiphany might strike you during one of your thinking activities, like sitting on the porcelain throne.

Once I finished this extensive training, flat dead on the floor, an amorphous mass, my word cloud then looked like this:

Ta-daaaah~ There's a lovely sense of balance here. On top of that, I had beaten those words into my brain so thoroughly that, now, I've improved my awareness of them. As I write, I can sense their approach and ward them off entirely with a drop-kick to the face.

There are, of course, downfalls. Whenever politicians speak, my eyebrow twitches at words like "contingency" and "precedent". I rage whenever I see the phrase "critics cry foul" in news articles, and now that I've put it in your mind, I bet you will too. Or maybe it's just my OCD kicking in, or my awkward penguin.

Now, go forth and multiply.

.....Your word count, of course. Population crisis and all that.