Six O’clock: A Short Story

@nova21 Aw! Thank you! It is kind of bittersweet, yeah, but it’s only the beginning. I’m so glad you enjoyed the imagery–I know it’s a little different, but I had the most fun writing that style!

@abigail-m Awesome! Take your time! 🙂

@devastate-lasting Thank you! For the comment and the edits!

So, yeah… *spoiler alert for those who haven’t read it XD* She has a brain tumor, which is causing her to hallucinate, lose feeling in parts of her body, become dizzy, etc. And then some of it is just her own thoughts. It’s kind of dark, I suppose.

@devastate-lasting Good! I’m so glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading it!

@abigail-m Awesome! Thank you!! 🙂 I’m sure I can muster up some tips! 😉 Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?

@abigail-m All right, lemme see…

The trick to describing scenery is not to go over the top. I once read a book that described every. single. plate. Let me say it was not enjoyable. Be simple in what you describe, but be detailed in your description. Put yourself in the character’s shoes and think, “What would I notice first in this situation?” And that depends upon who the character is. The first thing Cinderella, a poor and mistreated girl, would have noticed walking into Prince Charming’s ballroom would be how big and grand it was–but no doubt her stepmother noticed how a servant missed polishing a fork.

See what I mean?

Same goes for larger scenery like landscapes. Your happier character will look out on the sunset and immediately think of all sorts of, well, happy things. They’ll note how the colors dance across the sky and the sun’s rays intermingle with the clouds and the stars wink down from their perch above. But your villain will probably be upset over the fact that he hadn’t accomplished his evil scheme that day and certainly won’t be seeing the sunset in a happy light (no pun intended).

Which brings me to my next point: use colorful language (not cuss words, mind you). Verbs like dance, weave, wave, sway, etc. make common actions or things stand out. Using a more specific term like pirouette makes them stand out even more and establishes your own creative voice.

Another way you can do that is to use word and phrases in different ways than they usually are. Here’s an example:

Lord Marshing commenced to getting cozy with the doorjamb, slacking a hip and supporting himself with a muscled arm against the frame, as though he intended to stay there for quite some time. The lively dance of mirthful green and precarious sky blue in his eyes all but taunted her, begging her to snap and let him play with each broken piece as she struggled to pull herself together.

Not only are phrases like “getting cozy with the doorjamb” different, it’s also hilarious. Words like slacking, cocking, hiking, hitching, etc. replace leaning, lifting, and raising. I recommend using OneLook Reverse Dictionary and Thesaurus for different verbs and adjectives.

Of course, adjectives and adverbs are superb–but use them sparingly. Use verbs that automatically warrant the adverb–so instead of “she walked slowly,” use “she crept” or “she slinked.” Instead of “dark pink,” use “magenta.” See what I mean?

Now, as for serious action, like fight scenes, similar rules apply–but you’ve got to focus on your emotion and your pacing. I’m still learning this one myself. You may feel tempted to go into deep detail about who’s doing what and what’s moving where–but don’t. Get lost in the moment, just like your characters are. One of the best ways to do this is with shorter sentences and paragraphs.

Here’s an excerpt I’ve polished up for you: (Note: what’s interesting is that my POV character is not one to get into a fight, but once he did, the anger totally altered his mentality.)

I tore Quinn away and then the world blurred.

I threw the first punch. He staggered back, dazed for a moment that allowed me access to his undefended body.

“Keaton, no!”

I charged, ramming him into the bulkhead. Something cracked and Quinn went limp. Punch after punch landed in his abdomen, a guttural moan the only sound heard against the deafening blows. Blood squirted in my eyes when I popped the man in the jaw, his head slinging backward again.

I raised one hand to swipe the blood away, the other pressing against Quinn’s shoulder. That single second was enough for him to regain his bearings.

My forehead hit the bulwark, skin breaking at the first strike. Quinn’s arm around my neck pushed me back again, but I blinked the pain and blood away, catching myself with my hands on the wall. I left Quinn with no room to move, crushing his head to the wall with my chest and jamming my knee in his groin.

He slipped the minute I pulled away, crumpling to the ground in a heap of blood, sweat, and lifeless limbs. Come morning, he’d wish I had killed him.

I wiped my head with the back of my hand, stepping away and only barely hearing the sound of a pistol cock.

“You move and I’ll shoot.”

I pivoted slowly, grinding my knuckles against my palm. I’d pulverize this one too if he thought he could come at me with a gun.

See? There’s emotion, some thought, and only description of what Keaton knows is going on. He doesn’t see the other guy with the gun come in, doesn’t hear him until he’s pulled away.

Now, this differs a lot from what I wrote in Six O’clock. I intentionally went for more imagery and description, so I just doubled what I usually do and gave every inanimate object a face, a voice, and breath. Make sense? Kenya saw things alive and moving that weren’t, well, alive and moving, which makes the story more interesting (and confusing) and the prose more enticing.

Anyway, I hope that helps! Any questions?

@abigail-m That’s awesome!

Yeah, that’s not something most people talk about, I guess. I’ve just learned it from writing first-person for so long! And I’m glad the examples helped!

You’re so welcome! 🙂