Two passages:
"On and on, my unknown attacker and I rolled violently down the corridor. My pistol that I had gripped so tightly before suddenly escaped my right hand. Madly, I struggled to get the pistol. My limbs ached because of the many attempts I made to dislodge my clinging foe. Finally, I reached it. As my attacker's face neared mine, I pulled the trigger. My attacker fell, rigid as ice. Blood gushed out from where I shot him."
-- Charles Austin Muir
"I was grading exams one night when I thought I heard a door slam above me. This was followed by three closely spaced thuds that induced a sour feeling in my stomach. I had heard those sounds before, when one of my students had fainted in class. Flashing on the incident, and realizing there was no door upstairs where the noises had come, I rose from my desk and began pacing, tracking the rhythm and course of new movement above me. It was identical to what I had heard upon breaking into the tenement—the sound of a body dragging itself across the floor."
-- Charles Austin Muir
The first passage is from "To Kill the Colossus," a short story I wrote in fifth grade. The second is from "Thanatos Park," a short story I wrote 31 years later.
Originally I was going to blog about how I sometimes re-read pieces from childhood as a writing warm-up. Something about internally hearing my young voice reminds me I actually do improve over time and helps me see what I'm working on in a new way.
But looking at both passages just now, I see they are more similar in tone and feel and structure than I thought they'd be. Backfire!
Even so, at least I'm still writing about monsters.
I'm still writing about what scares me.
Now where the hell is my pistol...
"On and on, my unknown attacker and I rolled violently down the corridor. My pistol that I had gripped so tightly before suddenly escaped my right hand. Madly, I struggled to get the pistol. My limbs ached because of the many attempts I made to dislodge my clinging foe. Finally, I reached it. As my attacker's face neared mine, I pulled the trigger. My attacker fell, rigid as ice. Blood gushed out from where I shot him."
-- Charles Austin Muir
"I was grading exams one night when I thought I heard a door slam above me. This was followed by three closely spaced thuds that induced a sour feeling in my stomach. I had heard those sounds before, when one of my students had fainted in class. Flashing on the incident, and realizing there was no door upstairs where the noises had come, I rose from my desk and began pacing, tracking the rhythm and course of new movement above me. It was identical to what I had heard upon breaking into the tenement—the sound of a body dragging itself across the floor."
-- Charles Austin Muir
The first passage is from "To Kill the Colossus," a short story I wrote in fifth grade. The second is from "Thanatos Park," a short story I wrote 31 years later.
Originally I was going to blog about how I sometimes re-read pieces from childhood as a writing warm-up. Something about internally hearing my young voice reminds me I actually do improve over time and helps me see what I'm working on in a new way.
But looking at both passages just now, I see they are more similar in tone and feel and structure than I thought they'd be. Backfire!
Even so, at least I'm still writing about monsters.
I'm still writing about what scares me.
Now where the hell is my pistol...