In honour of 'The ScoMan' who diligently proof read my Nanowrinmo piece. My male lead will be called...... Scott :P
I've re-read this, and I'm not happy with it. I don't think it's punchy (Excuse the pun) enough. I can see what I want to write in my mind, but it's not coming out in words.
Anyway.. This was the fight intro I wrote. Let me know what you think, remembering that I've got a 2,000 word limit, so I've not got a lot of space to talk about 'beads of sweat dripping from his brow'!
He wasn’t sure just why his flatmate had attacked him, what he did know was he was currently in a fight for his life. Blow by blow of fists and feet rained down upon him and he did everything is his power to fight his now extremely aggressive flatmate Michael off. Scott’s legs jarred from the force of the kick which pushed Michael off him, far enough away for Scott to get to his feet. Michael said nothing, other than grunting at Scott, launching at him again, his arms flaying around with no real direction other than to make contact with Scott’s body. Michael ran at him and Scott quickly stepped to the side, tripping Michael up. He fell to the ground, slaming face first onto the glass coffee table, shattering it into tiny piece which embedded itself into his face like a pin cushion.
That is when Scott noticed it. A hit to the head like that would put most people on their arse. But Michael got up, his eyes a vibrant green, face covered in blood and glass, he snarled at Scott, like a dog would, if you where trying to take its food away. Scott had to think on his feet; clearly fighting Michael off wasn’t going to stop him right now. He looked behind him as Michael again made a run for him. Scott grabbed the door to the pantry, and shoved the staggering Michael into it, before securing it. A bit of time out in there with the baked beans was what Michael needed, long enough for Scott to find out some answers.
Scott slumped down with his back to the pantry door, his body still being hammered from Michael’s attempts to break the door down. ‘Fucking hell’ He moved away from the door. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you Michael?’ Scott yelled through the door. Expecting an answer, but knowing full well he wasn’t about to get a polite conversation out of his flatmate. Scott secured the door with some furniture and sat down to assess the situation that had just unfolded.
Let me know what you think. I just think it reads like a typical 'zombie' story intro. Or maybe that's just me.
With WAY too much shit to read for the three classes I'm taking this semester...
That's all I've got.
1 comment:
Yep. This time I pictured myself as the protagonist.
Because if anyone can fight an army of zombies, it's a skinny guy with glasses.
Thank you though. I am honoured to have a character in your story named after me. Not just any character. The male lead no less.
I like the idea of it being someone he (I?) trusted attacking him (me?) and the confusion that follows.
But you've almost hit a fifth of the way through and it's been mostly action so far. There's not a lot of words to die down, create a story, build up more action and then reach the conclusion.
I guess that's the problem with 2,000 word stories.
Of course you COULD kill the protagonist in the second action stint rather than wrapping up again.. but you wouldn't do that to me.. would you?
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