Action Exercise

[Smurf Taco]

I'm in a fiction writing class and my first assignment is due on Wednesday. I started it last week, gave up on the weekend, and finished it tonight. It's very rough, just fleshed out so that I can polish it for Wednesday. ALL critique is welcome, it will help me work on it tomorrow for when it's actually due.

The assignment was to have two pages of action, with little or no dialogue. My professor has been emphasizing action that flows and is not boring to the reader. His examples are usually mundane scenes that are kept interesting because of how they are written, not what they are written about necessarily. Also, he wants us to build a character, and this action scene should help define the character.

Anyway, here's what I have:

My pants were already wet with **** before my hands splashed under the surface. The water was cold. They didn’t heat it as much during the spring. By the time I breached the surface, the water around my waist was warm.

Two little girls were splashing around in the shallow end as I walked past them, up the steps out of the pool. I grabbed the nearest towel off of an empty lounge chair. It smelled like an old woman’s perfume. It was damp. A little boy was shivering as the breeze whipped the beads of water clutching his body. He was dancing on the concrete. My feet were starting to get hot too.

My eyes searched for anyone watching me as I dried off my hair. No one was. No one ever paid any attention.

Even if they were, it didn’t matter to me. They were all foreigners. Foreigners who were paying hundreds of dollars to stay in a room smaller than my kitchen and swim in a pool full of my ****. I didn’t care what they thought about me, in the off chance they were paying attention.

I threw the wet towel onto a nearby table. My eyes quickly assessed three cups sitting on the same table. I picked up the plastic cocktail glass that had the most liquid left in it. It was completely melted, but it still stung as it went down.

A Fuzzy Navel. How cliché. But for how much was left, I couldn’t complain.

I found myself reaching rather suspiciously between two lounge chairs for what looked like a Mai Tai. It belonged to the skeleton wrapped in winkled leather next to me. She wouldn’t notice. She reminded me of an ant under a magnifying glass.

Her skin would have made a nice arm chair. A big fluffy one next to a fireplace and a dog sitting on my feet.

This quaint fantasy left me fumbling with the glass. It crashed down. My heart sank as it spilled onto the concrete and then down to a nearby drain. The skeleton turned to me as I sat in a puddle of her spilled drink. A single bony finger pulled down the rim of sunglasses that were too big for her face. Circles around her eyes were pale as ghosts.

The laughter erupted from my mouth – and nose – onto those enormous glasses.

The wallpaper in his office made me dizzy. He was looking at me. His hands were folded on his mahogany desk. I have no idea what the hell mahogany is. I bet this was it. It looked expensive.

I tried to match his gaze, but after enough stolen drinks, my head was bobbing back and forth. My full attention was given to attempting to conceal my internal laughter. I saw something scurry under my chair. Or at least I thought I saw something.

His big hand reached for a phone on his desk. Before the receiver reached his ear, the phone hit the wall behind me. I don’t remember punching him, but my hand hurt and had blood smeared across my knuckles as I sprinted down the hallway.

The wallpaper was the same here. Spirals and flowers and leaves and vines intertwined in a blur of red and gold. My head stumbled just as often as my feet did.

I yelled something behind me. It was supposed to be, “Sorry,” but my mouth was so dry even I couldn’t comprehend what I actually said. Two men rushed to help the old lady up. Her skirt matched the wallpaper. I looked back and found myself face down on the floor when I tried to turn back around.

I pushed myself off the carpet. It didn’t last.

I collapsed into a puddle of vomit. The carpet that wasn’t soaked was blue. It didn’t match the wallpaper at all.

[irate giraffe]

Re: Action Exercise

Nice story. A lot of the 'action' does happen in the narrators head though. I think that what the teacher meant was to write a story that doesn't have any thoughts, like a movie action scene without anything but bodies moving and interacting.

Other than that, my only real critique would be to use transitions (especially 'then', or 'after that'). They really help to give a sense of time and duration, and thus would really help in an action exercise.

On the same topic, I did one of these exercises back in college. I wrote about an adolescent couple jerking each other off, because they were christians and thought it would be a sin to have sex. The story went through all the bases up to three and then climaxed.

Anyways, I went to a Christian college, and the teacher was this doosh student teacher who told me I could write another one or take a zero (not a zero like an F, but a zero like instead of being graded on 10/10 assignments, I'd be graded on 9/9) cause he didn't feel comfortable enough to read it again to give me a grade.

I asked him what he thought of the writing, though. He said the action and descriptions were real enough to make him feel too guilty to read it again. Ha.

[Bon]

Re: Action Exercise

It smelled like an old woman’s perfume. It was damp.

Get rid of the second sentence. People already get the impression that perfume is damp because it's a liquid.

Even if they were, it didn’t matter to me. They were all foreigners.

This would be better with a semicolon after "me"; it fits the sentence structure better because it will connect the two sentences.

A Fuzzy Navel. How cliché.

I tried one of those, and they are very delicious. I like this part, by the way, but instead of a period after "Navel," try a colon, and compare it.

A big fluffy one next to a fireplace and a dog sitting on my feet.

I'm not particulary a fan of sentence fragments, but I suppose you have a purpose for this one, so I won't press you further on it.

This quaint fantasy left me fumbling with the glass. It crashed down.

Use a semicolon here. Nice phrase, BTW.

I saw something scurry under my chair. Or at least I thought I saw something.

Use a "dash" here after the word 'chair.' It adds more suspense.

I collapsed into a puddle of vomit. The carpet that wasn’t soaked was blue. It didn’t match the wallpaper at all.

This ending is so eerie, dude. However, I'm reminded of a cut scene in the first Max Payne that is similar to this. You know, the "collasping in vomit" part. I still think this is a great way to end your fictional piece. You also stuck to the guidelines with the limited dialogue, and made that scene sound so believable, so kudos for that.

This is a very potential piece, Smurf. There were only a few places where I suggested you alter the piece only a tiny notch to really give the piece its "shine." I hope you receive some positive feedback on the piece, and feel free to shoot me a PM, or respond in this topic, to let me know if my feedback was helpful.

[Chad]

Re: Action Exercise

Wow. What the hell? You didn't finish the November novel right? Now I feel cheated.

I picked up the plastic cocktail glass that had the most liquid left in it.

It's probably just me, but this sentence reads so awkwardly and I think it's the use of liquid. Maybe nectar would foreshadow the drink itself? It's just that everything else is so descriptive and colorful, liquid throws me off.

It belonged to the skeleton wrapped in winkled leather next to me.

Amazing description. I'm sure winkled is just a typo, right?



Your actions are all amazing, and the descriptions are so vivid. The only other thing worth noting is that the jump from the poolside to the manager's (or whatever position he holds) office forces me to reread that section once or twice. That's not necessarily a bad thing, because if your narrator is drinking, it adds to his voice. Although, I'm sure you wrote it that way, I just wanted you to note the fact that some people will not get it at first.

[Garr123]

Re: Action Exercise

Ignore B_Wire; semicolons look like ass; and you can usually get by without using th;em.

[Tex Ritter]

Re: Action Exercise

Ignore B_Wire; semicolons look like ass; and you can usually get by without using th;em.

Yeah. Here's something I like:

"Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college."
-Kurt Vonnegut

It held my attention well. My only gripe is that some of the similes and metaphors seem to be there not because they're needed but so they can be similes and metaphors. I liked it though.

[Bon]

Re: Action Exercise

Ignore B_Wire; semicolons look like ass; and you can usually get by without using th;em.

That was quite unnecessary, Garr. If you had a brain, he did say "All critique is welcome."

Tex: Despite your author quote, I don't find anything wrong with semicolons. I mean, I'm not excessively using them, but not one professor has told me it's wrong.

[Smurf Taco]

Re: Action Exercise

My gripe with semicolons is that it's not a natural piece of punctuation. When people talk or think, a semicolon is never present. The brain works in short (or long) sentences, not complex gramatically correct structures. For an essay, absolutely, I would use semicolons. For fiction, especially one with so much internal reflection, I find semicolons to be high brow for the sake of being 100% correct. But I do appreciate the time and effort you put in to your response B_Wire.

As for transitions, I personally agree with the majority of your guys' responses, but I'm trying something new. Our professor is kind of a picky guy, and it seems like he's trying to get us to at least realize that we don't need to stick to conventions to have an effective piece of fiction. He's shown us a lot of specific examples of writing that has NO transitional material, and how it works given the voice. So in one way, I'm kind of brown-nosing by not using transitions, but I am also just trying something I haven't tried before.

Thanks for the input guys!

[Shard]

Re: Action Exercise

"It was damp." I stumbled a bit on this line too. It's bland compared to what precedes and follows it.

Also, for a piece describing action you're using A LOT of passive language. I'd assume you're trying to achieve immediacy with an action sequence, and passive language like "was shivering" is only an impediment.

I only offer this last with your instructor's goal in mind...there are times you leapfrog over action and skip straight to the results. That's not really a problem so much as a stylistic choice, and I've seen it work well in film, comics and literature, but since your task is to describe the portions you've skipped over. Your prof. may call you on it. Specifically I'm thinking of the parts where he vomits on the leathery lady, and smashes in the man's nose.

"My head stumbled just as often as my feet did." I like the intent here but the execution is a bit lackluster. The reader's impression should be left on the stumbling head. "My head stumbled." This would be in keeping with the style you've used and doesn't clutter the reader's mind with feet. If that's too opaque, try "My feet stumbled almost as often as my head." Mostly the same words, but the emphasis remains on his head.

[Bon]

Re: Action Exercise

My gripe with semicolons is that it's not a natural piece of punctuation. When people talk or think, a semicolon is never present. The brain works in short (or long) sentences, not complex gramatically correct structures. For an essay, absolutely, I would use semicolons. For fiction, especially one with so much internal reflection, I find semicolons to be high brow for the sake of being 100% correct. But I do appreciate the time and effort you put in to your response B_Wire.

As for transitions, I personally agree with the majority of your guys' responses, but I'm trying something new. Our professor is kind of a picky guy, and it seems like he's trying to get us to at least realize that we don't need to stick to conventions to have an effective piece of fiction. He's shown us a lot of specific examples of writing that has NO transitional material, and how it works given the voice. So in one way, I'm kind of brown-nosing by not using transitions, but I am also just trying something I haven't tried before.

Thanks for the input guys!

Okay, I understand, Smurf. Just hoping something I said had helped.

Garr, I apologize for my earlier post.

[thetruecoolness]

Re: Action Exercise

Well I think this might need a bit of transition to it

The laughter erupted from my mouth – and nose – onto those enormous glasses.

The wallpaper in his office made me dizzy. He was looking at me. His hands were folded on his mahogany desk. I have no idea what the hell mahogany is. I bet this was it. It looked expensive.

Of course the reader will likely make the connection that he got in trouble for it, and was taken to the hotel office and likely will have the cops called on him for his actions, but a lot of people might get lost on this transition. Just seems a bit too sudden, and though the explanation is probably removed to keep the action going, it might be important to explain how he got there.

Also you refer to the hotel owner (or whoever was in the office) as a he, then you say

Two men rushed to help the old lady up.

Which I'm assuming is the same person the main character punched in the face, though I could be wrong.

Well upon further inspection it seems he knocked someone over in the hallway stumbling out. Not sure if this should be more explicit or not, but some may not make that connection.

Other than that it seems pretty good. Can't say anything about the grammar, as it's been a long time since I explicitly studied grammar. But it seems highly descriptive, and you certainly can feel yourself being in the main characters shoes. So good job.

[Smurf Taco]

Re: Action Exercise

Here's my "final" version, unless I find some new fatal error in it before 12 tomorrow.

My pants were already wet with **** before my hands splashed under the surface. The water was cold. They didn’t heat it as much during the spring. By the time I breached the surface, the water around my waist was warm.

Two little girls were splashing around in the shallow end as I walked past them, up the steps and out of the pool. I grabbed the nearest towel off of an empty lounge chair. It smelled like an old woman’s perfume. It was still damp. A boy was shivering as the breeze whipped the beads of water clutching his body. He was dancing on the concrete. My feet were starting to get hot too.

My eyes searched for anyone watching me while I dried off my hair. No one was. No one ever paid any attention.

Even if they were, it didn’t matter to me. They were all foreigners. Foreigners who paid hundreds of dollars to stay in a room smaller than my kitchen and swim in a pool full of my ****. I didn’t care what they thought about me in the off chance they were paying attention.

I threw the wet towel onto a nearby table. My eyes quickly assessed three cups resting alone on the same table. My hand wrapped around the plastic cocktail glass that had the most drink left in it. It was completely melted, but it still stung as it went down.

A Fuzzy Navel. How cliché. But for how much was left, I couldn’t complain.

Later I found myself reaching rather suspiciously between two lounge chairs for what looked like a Mai Tai. Still full. It belonged to the skeleton wrapped in wrinkled leather next to me baking in the sun. She wouldn’t notice. She may as well have been an ant under a magnifying glass.

Her skin would have made a nice arm chair. A big fluffy one next to a roaring fire and a dog lying on my feet.

This quaint fantasy left me fumbling with the glass. It crashed on the pavement. My heart sank as it spilled onto the concrete and then down to a nearby drain. The skeleton craned its head to me while I sat in a puddle of her spilled drink. A single bony finger pulled down the rim of sunglasses that were too big for her face. Circles around her eye sockets were as blinding white as the sun.

The laughter erupted from my mouth – and nose – onto those enormous glasses.

The wallpaper in his office made me dizzy. He was looking at me. His hands were folded on his mahogany desk. I have no idea what the hell mahogany looks like. I bet this was it. It looked expensive.

I tried to match his gaze, but after enough stolen drinks, my head was bobbing back and forth. The little concentration I had was attempting to conceal the laughter in my head. I saw something scurry under my chair. Or at least I thought I saw something.

His big hand reached for the phone to his left. Before the receiver touched his ear, the phone shattered on the wall behind me. I don’t remember punching him, but my hand hurt and there was blood on my knuckles as I sprinted down the hallway.

The wallpaper was the same here. Spirals and flowers and leaves and vines intertwined in a blur of red and gold. My feet stumbled in unison with my head.

I yelled something behind me. It was supposed to be, “Sorry,” but my mouth was so dry even I couldn’t comprehend what actually came out of my mouth. Two men rushed to help the old lady off the floor. Her skirt matched the wallpaper. I looked in front of me again and found myself face down on the floor.

I pushed myself off the carpet. It didn’t last.

I collapsed into a puddle of vomit. The carpet that wasn’t soaked was blue. It didn’t match the wallpaper at all.

[Chad]

Re: Action Exercise

STILL amazing.

Glad I could help as well,