Ever struggle with a scene?
Well, I’ve been struggling with a scene in a WIP that needs a light touch. I want to convey fear and terror without being overt about what’s happening.
And as usual, when I need help along comes one of my blogging/writing buddies.
Thanks, Dan Alatorre AUTHOR!
Recently, Dan posted a tease regarding a new contest. However, this isn’t what got my juices flowing. No, it was the video challenge. Hop over to Dan’s post and check out the video.
Dan posed three questions about the video clip. I used #3 as an exercise to work on my scene problems. Helped me a lot to work on writing about anxiety and fear.
#3. The place where the nanny is crossing the street and the little girl almost gets run over – HOW would you set that up in a written story so we jump when we read it?*
Here is the result of my exercise. Please be kind.
We could make it if the girls didn’t dawdle. I gripped the hands of my small charges tighter and marched on aching feet toward the cross walk.
“Hurry along girls, before the light changes.”
I should stop at the market and get something for dinner. Mr. Singleton likes lamb chops.
“Nanny, Nanny, I got to pet a rabbit today.” Eve tugged on my hand.
“Hmm, that’s nice.”
“She did not.” Anna made a face at her younger sister.
“Girls, that’s enough, we don’t have time.”
Maybe there’s something I could cook for dinner in the freezer.
Of course, the girls have homework. They always have homework. It’s Chatty-Kathy Highwaters fault I’m running late this afternoon. If she hadn’t insisted on telling me, and everyone within hearing, about her big pay raise, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry. Although I wouldn’t call five percent much of an increase for minding three kids.
“Oh, my God!”
The screech of metal against metal filled the air as two cars attempted to destroy each other.
I yanked the girls back onto the curb and out of the way of two damned fools, playing Speed Racer. They could’ve killed my babies. Where the hell is New York’s finest when you need them?
“Nanny, you’re hurting me.” Anna whimpered.
I eased my death grip on the girls and kneeled. Hands shaking, I fished a crumpled tissue from my pocket and dried their tears.
“How about we go for ice cream?”
So what if dinner is late tonight? I’ll think of something. For now, I’ll let the sweet taste of chocolate with sprinkles wipe this horror from their minds. No need to worry the Mister and Mrs. about what didn’t happen.
Have you ever used a writing challenge to help a WIP?
Do you find showing fear and terror difficult?
Did you try your hand at one of Dan’s questions? Which one?
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