That's contradicting writing advice, not writing about contradictions...
I've been told my sentences should be longer, then told they should be shorter. My paragraphs are too short. No wait, short paragraphs up the tension. Don't info dump. Do info dump sometimes. Don't start sentences with 'then.' Apart from when you want to.
Don't call your character a silly name. Do call your character a silly name. But don't ever use that name because it doesn't work.
Don't use passive sentences. Except that sometimes they work quite well.
Don't come out of your character's viewpoint... Unless you have to come out of your character's viewpoint. Are you writing in close third person? Narrative? First person? What? It all depends on the POV!
Take that bit out. No wait... put it back in again, I liked it.
Don't use repetition. Apart from here, here and here.
Don't write how you speak! Unless you're writing dialogue. Or first person. Or close third person where the character would talk like you speak...
You need to describe more! But take out this, this and this because it's overly descriptive.
Writing, eh? Easy.
Showing posts with label creative. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative. Show all posts
Monday, 20 September 2010
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Food (poem)
Food
He dives into the reeds, nose first.
Pushes through the rushes and coots
startle and flee. Panic flies
and swarms ahead of him like fire.
Moorhens kipp kipp kipp and are gone.
The others still follow him,
his family, his brood.
Whiskers twitch. They all smell it.
Food.
He pauses and checks the coast is clear,
his ears swivel and listen, and
his tail flicks in anticipation…
He smells eggs ahead!
They swarm over him now, too eager
to wait or listen for danger
or his indignant squeaks. His family,
his brood. They smell eggs ahead!
Food.
None of them listen as they dive
through the reeds, spreading forwards
like fire through the rushes.
They swarm. He squeaks and warns.
Wait, just wait, don’t rush ahead.
Danger flies above ready to dive
for her family, her brood.
She smells rats swarm below her.
Food.
He dives into the reeds, nose first.
Pushes through the rushes and coots
startle and flee. Panic flies
and swarms ahead of him like fire.
Moorhens kipp kipp kipp and are gone.
The others still follow him,
his family, his brood.
Whiskers twitch. They all smell it.
Food.
He pauses and checks the coast is clear,
his ears swivel and listen, and
his tail flicks in anticipation…
He smells eggs ahead!
They swarm over him now, too eager
to wait or listen for danger
or his indignant squeaks. His family,
his brood. They smell eggs ahead!
Food.
None of them listen as they dive
through the reeds, spreading forwards
like fire through the rushes.
They swarm. He squeaks and warns.
Wait, just wait, don’t rush ahead.
Danger flies above ready to dive
for her family, her brood.
She smells rats swarm below her.
Food.
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