I was going through my old high school course materials a while back and I ran across "The Slave Hold" from Merlyn's Pen, a magazine that prints stories written by middle and high school students.
There is one particular passage from the story that caught my attention. It takes place in the slave hold. Kven has just been captured, and his friend Cassim was put in a nearby cell. The narrator watches Kven's reaction as a strange man enters Cassim's cell.
"If that drunken son of a Telik witch lays his hands on her ..." Kven began. He stopped, and I saw the realization in his eyes. He could do nothing. He was powerless here against these people. He could hate as much as he wished, but he could do nothing. "If he hurts her, I wish him dead," he said fiercely, his voice low. "I would give much for his death." I heard the scrape of the metal door on stone as the man opened it into the cell beyond. Neither Kven nor I could see past the darkness that lay over the air, something for which I was profoundly grateful. There were a few eternal seconds of silence, broken only by the man's whispered curses, before the girl began to scream. At the first cry, Kven lunged against the bars that served as doors, swearing violently in a stream of curses that seemed to flow endlessly from his lips. He stopped straining against the iron a second later and slumped back down to the floor, tears coursing down his cheeks. He did not sob, or cry out, or swear vengeance; he just let the grief and anger overtake him and flow out from his eyes.
I like how the action slows down in this scene. It's an intense moment -- the point at which Kven realizes his new helpless state. The author, Adriane Russo (who wrote it in 10th grade!) takes us through second by second. Not only do we hear everything Kven says, but we see every action and every expression that crosses his face to get the full emotional impact of the scene.
Nicely done.
Very nicely. Boot Camp for Writers also mentions showing important scenes in slow motion, but the example there isn't as good as this one.
ReplyDeleteI remember this story--it was very intimidating! I was writing regularly when I was 14, but I'm sure it was nowhere near this caliber.
ReplyDeleteThe thing that really stands out for me, though, is the way the writer transitions to internal observations then back again without missing a beat.
This writer seems to know the value of pacing intuitively; it's hard to believe anyone could be taught to write like this, to know that downshifting increases RPM.
ReplyDeleteMalcolm
"downshifting increases RPM" I like that.
ReplyDeleteI love this analogy. What I try to do is pace scenes according to how important they are to the person experiencing them - so events where they pay attention to every second are described at great length. But I never thought that what I was actually doing was presenting them like a movie, in slow-mo! thanks!
ReplyDeleteI completely feel the impact of the scene. But the analytical part of my brain is stuck on - if neither could see in the darkness, how did the narrator see "the realization in Kven's eyes" or "the tears coursing down his cheeks"?
ReplyDeleteeclecticquill -- Lol. Shea and Kven were in the same cell, so they could see each other, but they couldn't see into cells farther away. That's my interpretation, at least.
ReplyDelete