As an aspiring writer, I have a need for feedback that borders on the pathological. However, because of that "aspiring" qualifier in my previous sentence, I am terrified of offering up something still in progress for feedback.
On the one hand, it would be nice to know if I'm on the right track. On the other, it needs so much work and I don't want people seeing it and yeesh.
Yeah, you can see the dilemma.
But I'm bored and antsy tonight. So against my better judgement, I'm offering up this little snippet. Have at it, kids:
Eventually the Witch broke eye contact with Allie and stepped back, appraising the two kids with one withering glance. “You children want easy answers. Well, I’m not about to just hand them to you on a silver platter. You think you’re so intelligent? Figure it out on your own.”
Lillian Blackstone sniffed and turned on her heels, preparing to walk (or float or whatever) out of the room. “You know what, lady? Nothing about this is easy!” Allie hollered, the anger dripping in her tone. Then she blinked, clearly surprised by her outburst.
The Black Widow paused in her tracks for a split second before whirling around and fixing a terrifying, furious glare on the girl. When she stepped forward again, Charlie inched closer to his best friend, fumbled for her hand, and grasped it tightly. “You forget your place, child,” Lillian grumbled, her low register sending a deep shudder down Charlie’s spine.
To his complete surprise, Allie held her ground. Though her hand trembled like crazy when she pushed her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose, she didn’t break eye contact with Lillian. “I forget my place? You’re just an angry, bitter old woman who died decades ago! You shouldn’t even be here right now! You’re the one who’s forgotten her place.”
Fury burned in the Witch’s eyes, her lower jaw jutting out, as she gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. “In my day, children had respect for their elders.” That self-satisfied smirk curling back onto her lips, she raised her arm and held up her hand, palm out, in front of Allie. The girl dropped to her knees, crying out in agony and wrapping her arms around her stomach.
“Allie!” Charlie knelt down next to his best friend, trying to pry hands away from her stomach so he could see what was wrong. The Witch lowered her arm and Allie stopped whimpering, although she was quite clearly still in pain. “What did you do to her?!” Charlie cried, glaring up at the Witch.
“She’ll be fine,” Lillian replied in an off-handed tone. “Sometimes a little force is necessary to keep children in line.”
I kind of already don't like the rhyme in the last lines there, but I don't know how to reword it. I don't feel like a woman who died in the 1920s would say "okay." I could perhaps use "all right" but that somehow doesn't have the same dismissive connotation as a simple "fine." *shrug*
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment