Today we’ll look at a new 2-paragraph submission, this time by Pam Halter:
Home was a stone cottage she shared with Krezma, the woman who took her in when she was a baby. It sat in the forest outside the village of Broem. They had a well on the side and a root cellar just off the kitchen. The roof was covered with moss, and yellow bell flowers filled with nectar grew all around the cottage, attaching themselves to the stones.
About half way home, Akeela noticed a trailing mist of dark purple leading deeper into the woods. The stench of rotting eggs permeated the area. Her heart lept in her throat. She had encountered the strange aura and bad smell before. It meant Tzmet, the witch, had passed through. No wonder the animals and fairies were frightened. Akeela glanced around, tightened her grip on the bow, then left the path and cut across the woods to the pond.
Randy sez: Paragraph 1 is all telling. Not a single MRU to be seen. And it works. I’m going to assume this is really early in the story, so it makes sense to be telling who Krezma is. The word picture of the house where Akeela lives is very sharp and clear. Well done!
In Paragraph 2 we’ve got a sequence of very short Motivations and Reactions. Normally, I’d say to split these into separate paragraphs. But I don’t think so here. There’s not a lot of conflict in this paragraph, so there’s no point in stretching this segment out. The paragraph moves the reader economically toward the conflict that appears ready to begin.
Both paragraphs work very well as they stand. I wouldn’t mess with either one.
Anybody want to try to improve on this?
I would have written first sentence as follows:
Home to Akeela was…..etc
In second paragraph opening line would then be:
She was halfway home when she saw {or espied or noticed} the trailing mist…..etc
Sorry, Paul, but I disagree. Not having her name at the beginning lets me identify with the home as if it were mine. It provides the needed element of “I wonder” to pull the reader forward.
And I think the introductory prepositional phrase in the second paragraph is more economical than the subordinate clause construction you propose.
Minor differences in style, I believe. Subtle, not critical.
I agree with Randy. Telling–narrative exposition–in an opening paragraph is an acceptable practice. It quickly sets the stage–one short, economical stage- setting paragraph. It isn’t a rule to follow, just one of many tools in a writer’s toolbox to use to create a particular effect.
The second paragraph with its MRUS does exactly what Randy suggests, moves us quickly–and logically–toward the main event. Look at the sentence length in each paragraph. #1’s sentences are long and flowing. The sentences in #2 tend to be shorter, heightening the tension. Nice work.
I can see why Paul wants to make his suggested changes–we don’t learn the character’s name until the second paragraph. But the way these paragraphs are constructed keeps the reader reading to find out more–including the character’s name–and that is the purpose of a strong opening or hook.
I also like it as is except a few minor things:
One spelling boo-boo. “Her heart leapt in her throat.”
“Akeela glanced around, tightened her grip on the bow, then left the path and cut across the woods to the pond.” I think this might work better as two sentences. At least eliminate the ‘then’ because the order Akeela does things is obvious.
I know they have nothing to do with MRUs, but I tend to be picky over the little things.
I apologize in advance for the upcoming lame SNL joke.
Improve?
It needs more cowbell.
Thanks for the feedback ~ yes it’s early in the story, not quite the beginning, but still early enough that I wanted to give some detail.
Thanks, Randy! I’m learning from everyone’s samples.
OK, for what its worth (this advice, and $4.87 will get you a coffee at Starbucks…)
I would drop the “About” in the second paragraph. I think it would make it a stronger sentence.
Half way home, Akeela noticed a trailing mist of dark purple leading deeper into the woods.
I don’t like this sentence.
“No wonder the animals and fairies were frightened.”
Even though it moves the story forward quickly, it makes me itch to build the scene just a tad more and create that fearful feeling. I’d take it out or show it more.
…there now. A scone with that coffee….
Hi Pam – I like the mood & setting you’ve created. Just one very minor thing. Akeela’s heart should have leapt “into” her throat. If it leapt “in” her throat, then it was there to start with. 😉
Ok, see now I’m confused. I understand that a “rule” can be broken, but how do you know when to split up the motivations and reactions into separate paragraphs, and when to leave them all bunched up together? You mentioned that since there was no conflict that it wasn’t necessary to split it up into paragraphs, but I think I still would have. If I were writing this, I might do it something like this:
A trailing mist of dark purple led deeper into the woods, and the stench of rotting eggs permeated the air.
Akeela had encountered the strange aura and bad smell before. It meant Tzmet, the witch, had passed through.
Everything was strangely quiet – the animals and fairies were frightened.
Akeela’s heart lept in her throat. She glanced around, tightened her grip on the bow, then left the path and cut across the woods to the pond.
Ok, so would this way be wrong? I’m just really confused. I finally think that maybe I’m “getting” it, and then I get all confused again.
Ok, see now I’m confused. I understand that a “rule” can be broken, but how do you know when to split up the motivations and reactions into separate paragraphs, and when to leave them all bunched up together? You mentioned that since there was no conflict that it wasn’t necessary to split it up into paragraphs, but I think I still would have. If I were writing this, I might do it something like this:
A trailing mist of dark purple led deeper into the woods, and the stench of rotting eggs permeated the air.
Akeela had encountered the strange aura and bad smell before. It meant Tzmet, the witch, had passed through.
Everything was strangely quiet – the animals and fairies were frightened.
Akeela’s heart lept in her throat. She glanced around, tightened her grip on the bow, then left the path and cut across the woods to the pond.
Ok, so would this way be wrong? I’m just really confused. I finally think that maybe I’m “getting” it, and then I get all confused again.
I agree, I think these paragraphs are clean and neat and work extremely well. I don’t think they can be improved. I thought for fun though, I’d play with Pam’s piece. This is probably how NOT to write a short story because word ranges of 3000 are often given best to character, not pleasant indulgences.
How I indulge here though. Apparently, Krezna knows
more about Akeela than she does.
The days of Dickens may be dead but I suppose I try and resurrect them here, as I turn two paragraphs into eight and thoroughly enjoy using the word long–twice.
**
Akeela lived within the forest outside the village of Broem sharing the house with Krezna, a woman who had looked after her a long long time; in fact, since her first memories began and even before then.
According to Krezna, she was a baby plagued by night terrors and colicky screams, but no one but Krezna had been aroused in the wildness, at least that’s how it seemed.
Their home was a moss covered stone cottage with its share of necessities; even luxuries: plentiful water from its wishing well, a decent generosity from nature gracing its northern side near a sloped clearing, and stores of vegetables from its root cellar just off the kitchen.
From a distance one could smell the flowers growing up around the cottage: the yellow bell flowers, clinging to the stones, attracting bees with their nectar, but Akeela was still too far away for that, very close though, to a terribly ugly smell.
Nearly half way home, Akeela tramped along the thin worn path; stopping every so often to watch the glint of the late sun, peeking through the trees, or to simply listen to the sound of a flutter. She hadn’t expected the trailing mist of purple leading off the path, the strange aura and scent which poured around her.
Her pulse quickened along with her steps, while she lifted her shawl to her nose and mouth, shielding herself, almost gagging on the stench, like the rotting of eggs, or worse–flesh.
She knew its source: that the witch, Tzmet had been through; maybe near even now. No wonder the animals and fairies had been still, except for the rustle of birds perched above, and surely even they were alert for flight.
Akeela tightened the grip on her bow, daring to look around before leaving the path for a darker but shorter way through to the pond. Was shorter better? Safer? Akeela knew the answer. Not always.
**
It’s an interesting exercise for a writer to learn to control the degree of length they chose, whether long or short. I recently had an extremely sparse piece published. The space between the words was every bit as important as the words themselves–a kind of staccato on the page.
It’s extremely useful to read the comments here and see the different approaches. I think it really increases the level of awareness and enlightens us all.
Blessings,
Joleena
Randy,
I was confused with this story segment. It started off with the home descriptions and led me to believe we were there. Then it jumped to “About half way home…” Perhaps I’m just lost:)
The two paragraphs are great but (in my opinion) need somthing to tie them in together. I liked Joleen’s “but Akeela was still too far away” line. Something like that would help make it feel less jumpy.
I would have also phrased “trailing mist of dark purple” to being a dark purple trailing mist-just me 🙂
“Akeela glanced around, tightened her grip on the bow, then left the path and cut across the woods to the pond.”
Great line! The suspence builds…and I could really picture her doing this-well described!
I love the first paragraph: short, sweet, descriptive, and doesn’t go on to become boring. The second paragraph is a good start, but for me needs more meat.
I have to agree that Joleena’s version helps the flow. Like Carrie, the frightened animals and fairies kind of threw me, I wanted to know how Akeela knew they were frightened. Also, as Eve states, the two paragraphs seem disconnected with a jumpy transition. If efficiency is needed/wanted, then perhaps a short transition paragraph:
Normally, it was the scene of peace and tranquility, but today there was something different, something wrong. Absent were the birdsongs, the chittering of squirrels, the snuffling of rabbits. Even the frolicking fairies had disappeared into their hidey holes.
***
Okay, not great and still telling, but sets up the next paragraph that introduces Akeela and transitions from peaceful glade to “something’s wrong”.
If I were Pam, in the first paragraph I would either show it from the mian character’s POV showing how she saw the house, or I would leave as a telling paragraph. One thing is, when describing something, it’s always good to do so while the object or person is in action. For example, instead of “and yellow bell flowers filled with nectar grew all around the cottage, attaching themselves to the stones” i would put something along the lines of: “yellow bell flowers adjacent to the stone wall of the cottage swayed in the midnight breeze.”
Pam, I love your setting. I would like to see all the verbs replaced with POWER verbs. The sensory experience, “The stench of rotting eggs permeated the area,” could become more personal if it affected Akeela’s being, rather than “the area.” I might express it thus: “A thick stench like that of rotting eggs attacked Akeela’s senses, smothering her heart and chilling her soul with dread.” Overstatement?