Nina, As ever, appreciative, so very appreciative. This study gives me many tools to improve.
WIP:
From a distance, I see a steep waterfall—a frolicking stream high up a mountain, skirting obstacles as it cascades into the valley—only it's dark and filthy grey. And it's crashing downhill, chasing boulders, down, down, down, gaining speed, ripping gashes as it goes. Thumb-sized rocks tumble in lazy somersaults, tearing trees from their moorings.
I'm prompted to combine the last sentences and switch modifiers and bring a harder ending. Leaning in:
From far away, I see a steep waterfall—a frolicking stream traipsing down a mountain, skirting obstacles as it cascades into the verdant valley below—only it's dark and filthy grey. And it's careening, crashing down, down, down, plunging and jumping thumb-sized pebbles, boulders that tumble lazy somersaults, that rip toothpick trees from moorings, that gather and pitch in downward fury, leaving a wake of ashy smoke.
Thanks for this Nina! I like also the way the description of the helmet falling, particularly "the cowl fluttering and snapping behind the headpiece" evokes/mimics the action of the spine and head of the woman who jumped. Even more particularly, "snapping" evokes the breaking of a neck.
Another terrific example and analysis. It makes me think of that awful experience of falling, or watching something fall, from a great height, and how time is distorted. It's the stuff of nightmare. I'm really grateful for these lessons in sentence writing, and also for the tips I'm getting for searching out writers who are new to me. So thank you. Here's my attempt at a sentence:
Noticing the huge door standing ajar, she stands and gazes at it, finding herself drawn to the inviting dark it reveals and the possibility of refuge within it, not thinking that he might be playing his usual tricks here, forgetting his skill in misdirection, and paralysed by longing, fatigue and confusion, until the door slams shut in a sudden, biting gust of wind.
Knowing no option, they holdup against the hope of not being found, not saying anything, just waiting behind upturned desks and watching the corridor windows, searching for backlit shadows cast on pale frost-white glass by the morning sun, and hearing his footsteps, metal jarring on metal timed heel over heel, up until the moment - the gunman gains his access, like a wailing wraith.
Nina, As ever, appreciative, so very appreciative. This study gives me many tools to improve.
WIP:
From a distance, I see a steep waterfall—a frolicking stream high up a mountain, skirting obstacles as it cascades into the valley—only it's dark and filthy grey. And it's crashing downhill, chasing boulders, down, down, down, gaining speed, ripping gashes as it goes. Thumb-sized rocks tumble in lazy somersaults, tearing trees from their moorings.
I'm prompted to combine the last sentences and switch modifiers and bring a harder ending. Leaning in:
From far away, I see a steep waterfall—a frolicking stream traipsing down a mountain, skirting obstacles as it cascades into the verdant valley below—only it's dark and filthy grey. And it's careening, crashing down, down, down, plunging and jumping thumb-sized pebbles, boulders that tumble lazy somersaults, that rip toothpick trees from moorings, that gather and pitch in downward fury, leaving a wake of ashy smoke.
Thanks for this Nina! I like also the way the description of the helmet falling, particularly "the cowl fluttering and snapping behind the headpiece" evokes/mimics the action of the spine and head of the woman who jumped. Even more particularly, "snapping" evokes the breaking of a neck.
Another terrific example and analysis. It makes me think of that awful experience of falling, or watching something fall, from a great height, and how time is distorted. It's the stuff of nightmare. I'm really grateful for these lessons in sentence writing, and also for the tips I'm getting for searching out writers who are new to me. So thank you. Here's my attempt at a sentence:
Noticing the huge door standing ajar, she stands and gazes at it, finding herself drawn to the inviting dark it reveals and the possibility of refuge within it, not thinking that he might be playing his usual tricks here, forgetting his skill in misdirection, and paralysed by longing, fatigue and confusion, until the door slams shut in a sudden, biting gust of wind.
Dan was a friend and colleague in grad school. I love that you chose one of his sentences to analyze!
Knowing no option, they holdup against the hope of not being found, not saying anything, just waiting behind upturned desks and watching the corridor windows, searching for backlit shadows cast on pale frost-white glass by the morning sun, and hearing his footsteps, metal jarring on metal timed heel over heel, up until the moment - the gunman gains his access, like a wailing wraith.