I love this post by Lydia over at The Sharp Angle.
It perfectly addresses a point I was trying to make to a fellow writer a few weeks ago. I was advised that shifting from present to past was too confusing. I felt it was no more confusing than a real person speaking of what was happening at that moment and what happened last night. As long as the change in time frame was made clear, there was no problem. However,I went on and changed my current work to past tense.
I am not nearly as happy with it,because as I said and Lydia agreed, it lost the sense of immediacy.
After reading Lydia's words, I may revisit present tense.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
First Page (Revised)- Young Adult
“I know what you are.”
The words were little more than a breath. I gasped for air feeling as though I were spiraling through an endless tunnel away from Gran. We had connected this time, and she had something important to tell me. Try as I might, I could not hold on to her voice.
He spoke in a whisper, but I heard it plainly this time. The cold shadow of a voice broke through my amateur defenses without warning. They were getting stronger, getting closer to overtaking me now that I was completely off my meds.
I could’ve stayed on the medication, but I didn’t like the way it left me feeling empty inside, nothing but a walking corpse. So I’d come of the drugs gradually, and with that had come everything that they told me was not real, everything that I wanted to escape.
Tears tried to force their way out.
I refused to give in to that nagging fear that maybe I was going crazy. Images of the sterile, white hospital halls and stern faced medical staff invaded my head. Crazy would be bad, worse than bad. But the alternative was no better.
The words were little more than a breath. I gasped for air feeling as though I were spiraling through an endless tunnel away from Gran. We had connected this time, and she had something important to tell me. Try as I might, I could not hold on to her voice.
He spoke in a whisper, but I heard it plainly this time. The cold shadow of a voice broke through my amateur defenses without warning. They were getting stronger, getting closer to overtaking me now that I was completely off my meds.
I could’ve stayed on the medication, but I didn’t like the way it left me feeling empty inside, nothing but a walking corpse. So I’d come of the drugs gradually, and with that had come everything that they told me was not real, everything that I wanted to escape.
Tears tried to force their way out.
I refused to give in to that nagging fear that maybe I was going crazy. Images of the sterile, white hospital halls and stern faced medical staff invaded my head. Crazy would be bad, worse than bad. But the alternative was no better.
Writing Progress
Just to let you know...I have not managed to revise my entire novel as planned! I have been working full time for the past few weeks, which is good financially, but bad for my writing. Also, I have rewritten the first two chapters in the double digits by now. It's not going as quickly as I wanted, but I am making progress.
NaNoWriMo looms too closely on the horizon. I'm going to give it another go this year, but I don't have the confidence that I would like to have at this point. Fifty thousand words in a month, working full time, taking care of family and home, and trying to revise the current novel. Hmmm.
I'm going to need my superpowers! Where is that cape?
NaNoWriMo looms too closely on the horizon. I'm going to give it another go this year, but I don't have the confidence that I would like to have at this point. Fifty thousand words in a month, working full time, taking care of family and home, and trying to revise the current novel. Hmmm.
I'm going to need my superpowers! Where is that cape?
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