Autumn Quiz Westmorland Croquet Club C/D...
Quizzes & Puzzles1 min ago
I'm Trying To Write A Story For Publication. Could Use Your Honest Opinion. How Do You Like The First Page?
34 Answers
The day the new neighbors moved into the abandoned house behind the hill, the ocean went crazy.
Cathy was walking on the shore when the ocean suddenly rumbled and swelled in the windless early September midday. Waves crashed against the shore, so powerful that the sand vibrated. The lifeguard was urging swimmers to get out of the water.
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy's head whipped toward the sound. A boy of about seven was struggling against the current, his face twisted in terror.
Cathy rushed into the water and gasped at the ferocity of the current. It was like hands on the small of her back shoving her forward. A waved slammed against her chest, sending her stumbling backwards into the shore and knocking her into the sand.
Through the roar of the ocean, the crashing waves, bare running footsteps on wet sand, the boy's terrified screams, and men shouting instructions to each other, there was the sound of dolphins trilling, squeaking, whistling. For one insane moment, she was sure dolphins and sharks had washed off to shore.
She leapt to her feet and turned sideways. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy about her age, sixteen. He was looking deep into the ocean and imitating a dolphin. She'd never heard a human make such sounds before.
She closed the distance between them in five brisk steps. "A little boy is drowning, and you stand there making dolphin sounds," she yelled. "Help instead. Be a man."
"Don’t disturb my concentration." He stepped closer to the water, walking on the balls of his feet like a cat, his feet barely touching the sand. "I'm trying to communicate here."
The little boy was spinning in a whirlpool. This moron was trying to communicate? Trying to communicate?! The blood rushed to her head. Her face burned. Rage shot through her body like an electrical jolt. "You think now's a good time to be a clown?" She slammed her fist into an open palm an inch away from his face.
She whirled around at the sound of a freight train coming from the ocean. She screamed when she saw what it was. A water tornado rose above the huge waves and hurtled itself into shore, slamming into the lifeguard a few feet away. The roof shot toward the white glare of the sky. The stairs, the banister. All gone. Chunks of metal and wood swirled around madly.
Dark shapes appeared in the water, blurry under the raging foam. Sharks. They were swimming toward the boy who was twirling around so fast, he became a blur of dark hair and the light blue of his swimming suite.
Cathy ran toward the devastation of the lifeguard's hut as the water tornado lifted into the sky. She snatched a metal bar off the sand with shaking hands. She'd hit the shark on the head, poke them in the eyes, whatever it took.
She bolted toward the water and froze in her tracks as a dolphin's head popped out of the water, sleek and glistering in the blinding sunrays. The dolphins reached the boy and hoisted him up. He clung to a dolphin, too terrified to scream.
The metal bar dropped from her hand into the sand as the dolphins swam to shore, toward the lifeguard who stood knee-deep in the water, barely keeping his footing in the monstrous current. He took the child from the dolphin and ran toward her.
"You two." He looked from her to the boy she'd almost punched. "Away. Now. Away from the water."
There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze, and for a second, she couldn’t breathe or move. The ocean was receding, exposing wet sand that stretched toward the horizon, covered with withering guppies and goldfishes. A tsunami.
Cathy was walking on the shore when the ocean suddenly rumbled and swelled in the windless early September midday. Waves crashed against the shore, so powerful that the sand vibrated. The lifeguard was urging swimmers to get out of the water.
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy's head whipped toward the sound. A boy of about seven was struggling against the current, his face twisted in terror.
Cathy rushed into the water and gasped at the ferocity of the current. It was like hands on the small of her back shoving her forward. A waved slammed against her chest, sending her stumbling backwards into the shore and knocking her into the sand.
Through the roar of the ocean, the crashing waves, bare running footsteps on wet sand, the boy's terrified screams, and men shouting instructions to each other, there was the sound of dolphins trilling, squeaking, whistling. For one insane moment, she was sure dolphins and sharks had washed off to shore.
She leapt to her feet and turned sideways. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy about her age, sixteen. He was looking deep into the ocean and imitating a dolphin. She'd never heard a human make such sounds before.
She closed the distance between them in five brisk steps. "A little boy is drowning, and you stand there making dolphin sounds," she yelled. "Help instead. Be a man."
"Don’t disturb my concentration." He stepped closer to the water, walking on the balls of his feet like a cat, his feet barely touching the sand. "I'm trying to communicate here."
The little boy was spinning in a whirlpool. This moron was trying to communicate? Trying to communicate?! The blood rushed to her head. Her face burned. Rage shot through her body like an electrical jolt. "You think now's a good time to be a clown?" She slammed her fist into an open palm an inch away from his face.
She whirled around at the sound of a freight train coming from the ocean. She screamed when she saw what it was. A water tornado rose above the huge waves and hurtled itself into shore, slamming into the lifeguard a few feet away. The roof shot toward the white glare of the sky. The stairs, the banister. All gone. Chunks of metal and wood swirled around madly.
Dark shapes appeared in the water, blurry under the raging foam. Sharks. They were swimming toward the boy who was twirling around so fast, he became a blur of dark hair and the light blue of his swimming suite.
Cathy ran toward the devastation of the lifeguard's hut as the water tornado lifted into the sky. She snatched a metal bar off the sand with shaking hands. She'd hit the shark on the head, poke them in the eyes, whatever it took.
She bolted toward the water and froze in her tracks as a dolphin's head popped out of the water, sleek and glistering in the blinding sunrays. The dolphins reached the boy and hoisted him up. He clung to a dolphin, too terrified to scream.
The metal bar dropped from her hand into the sand as the dolphins swam to shore, toward the lifeguard who stood knee-deep in the water, barely keeping his footing in the monstrous current. He took the child from the dolphin and ran toward her.
"You two." He looked from her to the boy she'd almost punched. "Away. Now. Away from the water."
There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze, and for a second, she couldn’t breathe or move. The ocean was receding, exposing wet sand that stretched toward the horizon, covered with withering guppies and goldfishes. A tsunami.
Answers
You need a (good) sub-editor. I'm not especially good, but this is what I'd do with that storyline. It was early September when the ocean went mad. The same day a family moved into the abandoned house behind the hill. Cathy felt it rather than heard it, as she walked along the shoreline: a deep rumble as if from the depths of some mythical beast. Despite the calm...
18:16 Fri 07th Dec 2018
Well, to take a paragraph at random... First, your version, second, my quick rewrite. I think yours is overwritten!
She leapt to her feet and turned sideways. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy about her age, sixteen. He was looking deep into the ocean and imitating a dolphin. She'd never heard a human make such sounds before.
She jumped to her feet, glimpsing a boy through the spray. He was staring at the sea, making strange sounds, sounds she'd not heard before.
Unless you're getting paid by the word, I'd say the fewer words the better is not a bad rule.
BillB
She leapt to her feet and turned sideways. A silhouette appeared in the spray that leapt from the ocean. It took her a moment to realize it was a boy about her age, sixteen. He was looking deep into the ocean and imitating a dolphin. She'd never heard a human make such sounds before.
She jumped to her feet, glimpsing a boy through the spray. He was staring at the sea, making strange sounds, sounds she'd not heard before.
Unless you're getting paid by the word, I'd say the fewer words the better is not a bad rule.
BillB
I'm sorry to say, it needs more than tweaking. It's all very confusing; the ferocity of the current was such it was 'like hands in the small of her back, shoving her forward.' Then, the very next line begins, "A wave slammed against her chest." The dark shapes in the water were sharks (plural) so she goes to grab something to hit the shark (singular) with. A huge wave crashes into the lifeguard yet doesn't wash him away? You did say 'honest opinion'.
They often do Jo.
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I agree it's overwritten.
https:/
I agree it's overwritten.
You need a (good) sub-editor.
I'm not especially good, but this is what I'd do with that storyline.
It was early September when the ocean went mad. The same day a family moved into the abandoned house behind the hill.
Cathy felt it rather than heard it, as she walked along the shoreline: a deep rumble as if from the depths of some mythical beast. Despite the calm air, a stampede of powerful breakers pummelled the sand until it almost vibrated.
Within seconds, The lifeguard sounded the alarm for swimmers to get out of the water.
Even as the alarm sounded, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy's head whipped round. Not 10m from the shoreline, a small boy's face twisted in terror. In the time it took for the scream to register, the boy had been dragged further out into the thundering swell.
Cathy rushed into the water and immediately knew something was wrong. She was a strong swimmer and loved to relax in the friendly ocean during the holidays. Today it was a ferocious beast, slamming into her body and pushing her downwards, sucking at her torso and thrusting her violently into the sand.
Above her efforts to fight the pounding, disorienting waves, she heard the boy's screams, she heard bare feet slapping against the sand and other would-be rescuers yelling instructions. And she heard the weirdest thing. Was that really the sound of dolphins trilling, squeaking, whistling? For one insane moment, she imagined dozens of great sea predators coming toward her. Whether to help or to kill, she could not tell.
She found her feet. Adding to her confusion, a silhouette appeared in the foaming surf. A boy about her age, sixteen, had positioned his hands close to his mouth. The most extraordinary squeaks and whistles were coming from the youth. No human, surely, could make sounds like that. "Can't you do something?" she appealed.
"I'm trying," he retorted, stepping closer to the angry waves. He had the most peculiar way of walking, as if he barely touched the sand. "Do you think they will hear me, in this maelstrom?"
Among the churning waves, the poor lad was trapped in a vortex. He was not waving. Surely he did not have long left.
Amid the confusion; the extraordinary young man beside her; the insanity of the ocean; she watched in terror as a waterspout grew from the waves and hurtled, with a deep, gut-wrenching roar toward the would-be rescuers on the sand.
In that moment, the lifeguard lost his cabin. Chunks of metal and wood flew from the vortex of the waterspout, causing the onlookers to flee. A metre-long bar torn from the stair rail buried itself in the flat sand, just centimetres from Cathy's leg.
Although the waves obscured all detail, Cathy saw dark shapes in the water. A dozen dorsal fins were targetting the whirlpool where the helpless young lad was being sucked under the waves.
Cathy knew; everyone in the beachside community know. Sharks go for the helpless. She wrenched the bar from the sand, no thought in her head but to smash it against the noses and plunge it into the murderous eyes of the swarming sharks.
Anger drove her forward. Anger helped her overcome the pounding, thrashing waves, with no thought except to deny the sharks their meal. Anger almost made her drive the stake into the brain of the nearest dolphin.
Wonder made her realise the sleek, powerful dolphins were supporting the drowning boy. Wonder as the pod worked intricately to bring the boy to shore. Wonder as it dawned in her exhausted brain that the strange lad on the shore had called them
There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze. For a second, she couldn’t breathe or move. "You two." He looked from her to the strange youth with the extraordinary power to summon dolphins "Run! Inland! find high ground. Now!"
The mad water was running away from them, exposing sand, rocks, coral, kelp that had never before breathed air.
They ran, before anyone had time to yell, Tsunami!
I'm not especially good, but this is what I'd do with that storyline.
It was early September when the ocean went mad. The same day a family moved into the abandoned house behind the hill.
Cathy felt it rather than heard it, as she walked along the shoreline: a deep rumble as if from the depths of some mythical beast. Despite the calm air, a stampede of powerful breakers pummelled the sand until it almost vibrated.
Within seconds, The lifeguard sounded the alarm for swimmers to get out of the water.
Even as the alarm sounded, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. Cathy's head whipped round. Not 10m from the shoreline, a small boy's face twisted in terror. In the time it took for the scream to register, the boy had been dragged further out into the thundering swell.
Cathy rushed into the water and immediately knew something was wrong. She was a strong swimmer and loved to relax in the friendly ocean during the holidays. Today it was a ferocious beast, slamming into her body and pushing her downwards, sucking at her torso and thrusting her violently into the sand.
Above her efforts to fight the pounding, disorienting waves, she heard the boy's screams, she heard bare feet slapping against the sand and other would-be rescuers yelling instructions. And she heard the weirdest thing. Was that really the sound of dolphins trilling, squeaking, whistling? For one insane moment, she imagined dozens of great sea predators coming toward her. Whether to help or to kill, she could not tell.
She found her feet. Adding to her confusion, a silhouette appeared in the foaming surf. A boy about her age, sixteen, had positioned his hands close to his mouth. The most extraordinary squeaks and whistles were coming from the youth. No human, surely, could make sounds like that. "Can't you do something?" she appealed.
"I'm trying," he retorted, stepping closer to the angry waves. He had the most peculiar way of walking, as if he barely touched the sand. "Do you think they will hear me, in this maelstrom?"
Among the churning waves, the poor lad was trapped in a vortex. He was not waving. Surely he did not have long left.
Amid the confusion; the extraordinary young man beside her; the insanity of the ocean; she watched in terror as a waterspout grew from the waves and hurtled, with a deep, gut-wrenching roar toward the would-be rescuers on the sand.
In that moment, the lifeguard lost his cabin. Chunks of metal and wood flew from the vortex of the waterspout, causing the onlookers to flee. A metre-long bar torn from the stair rail buried itself in the flat sand, just centimetres from Cathy's leg.
Although the waves obscured all detail, Cathy saw dark shapes in the water. A dozen dorsal fins were targetting the whirlpool where the helpless young lad was being sucked under the waves.
Cathy knew; everyone in the beachside community know. Sharks go for the helpless. She wrenched the bar from the sand, no thought in her head but to smash it against the noses and plunge it into the murderous eyes of the swarming sharks.
Anger drove her forward. Anger helped her overcome the pounding, thrashing waves, with no thought except to deny the sharks their meal. Anger almost made her drive the stake into the brain of the nearest dolphin.
Wonder made her realise the sleek, powerful dolphins were supporting the drowning boy. Wonder as the pod worked intricately to bring the boy to shore. Wonder as it dawned in her exhausted brain that the strange lad on the shore had called them
There was a crazed look in the lifeguard's eyes as he stared into the ocean. Cathy followed his gaze. For a second, she couldn’t breathe or move. "You two." He looked from her to the strange youth with the extraordinary power to summon dolphins "Run! Inland! find high ground. Now!"
The mad water was running away from them, exposing sand, rocks, coral, kelp that had never before breathed air.
They ran, before anyone had time to yell, Tsunami!
Having tried to re-write it, it is too disjointed, jumping from one viewpoint to another too rapidly; there is far too much going on.
Tenses could do with a lot of attention.
Especially in action scenes, you should avoid passive voice .
Why introduce the new family at the top?
The lifeguard plays no significant part - he needs to be cut - unless he's important later.
I refuse to believe that Cathy would move to hit the newcomer. He's too weird to trigger such violence.
There is confusion about how close to the shore the young boy is.
And so on.
The water spout seems to appear, do its damage and then disappear. Why not have a great wave smash it up? Waterspouts tend to happen during storms, rather than on clear days, such as you describe at the top ("windless")
And so on.
Tenses could do with a lot of attention.
Especially in action scenes, you should avoid passive voice .
Why introduce the new family at the top?
The lifeguard plays no significant part - he needs to be cut - unless he's important later.
I refuse to believe that Cathy would move to hit the newcomer. He's too weird to trigger such violence.
There is confusion about how close to the shore the young boy is.
And so on.
The water spout seems to appear, do its damage and then disappear. Why not have a great wave smash it up? Waterspouts tend to happen during storms, rather than on clear days, such as you describe at the top ("windless")
And so on.
Alright I can see what you're trying to do but there is a lot going on here, too much in fact. It's very fast very wordy and that makes it feel clumsy (and it's tenses are all over the place). In parts it feels unrealistic and forced, so I think it needs essentially slimming down, calming down and generally structuring more simply. Avoid repeating the same word close together too that jars a lot for me.
I would rework it completely but edited as is so to speak I would write something more like this:- (See below)
I would rework it completely but edited as is so to speak I would write something more like this:- (See below)
-- answer removed --
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