What do you guys think of my writing style?

[Ole Miss Rebel]

OK. Next fall, I will be taking my first creative writing class. I do not creatively write. :banghead: I decided I better begin practicing!

This is my first attempt. What do you think? (it is not completed)
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Forgotten, open, Venetian blinds allow sunlight to rouse him out of a very deep sleep. The crack of dawn. Pure melancholy. His weary blue eyes reveal a dusty room whose uncleanliness is vague at night but blatant at this first blush of morning light. As he lies gloomily in bed, the reticent ceiling fan above him seems to whisper a message of despair as it clacks and crackles, dust-covered, circulating putrid perfumes of decrepid old oak. His sensitive sinuses succumb to a brutal barrage of fan-spun whirling tiny granules of ‘God knows what.’ A battlecry first, his ferocious cough, and then the battle commences, a cannonade of wheezing. Violent hacking. He questions if his friends are casualties of the war and imagines them suffering a rude awakening as he smothers his head, the artillery, into his pillow.

The answer, a blitz from the adjacent bedroom, comes bombing.

‘What the **** are you doing James!’ James immediately recognizes the profane assailant. Harrison’s stern manly voice is very distinctive. It is too early in the morning for him to start *****ing. Startled, his fragile vocal cords manage to exclaim ‘Nothing!’ boldly. James realizes that even his loudest outburst cannot approach Harrison’s brutish scream.

Sunstruck silence.

The pungent residue of alcohol still left in his mouth jolts memories of Yesterday and an electric sensation captures his body. A rainstorm of memory floods his head; he feels ecstatic! James begins to recap the events of Yesterday chronologically as he sluggishly lifts his head off the pillow but everything is rushing through his mind so quickly. Cars speeding on the turbulent final lap of a NASCAR showdown, euphoric vibes, Yesterday night was life in the fast lane. He plays a jigsaw puzzle in his mind, the pieces of Yesterday become grandiose and more reminiscent of last night’s rapturous dream than his now hungover reality. Let's see.

Yesterday was a torrid Independence Day; the humidity coupled with the ultraviolet waves from the malignant sun somehow exceeded even his most fantastic expectations. Yesterday he stayed at his grandparents’ empty lake house accompanied by both his best friends as well as Harrison and his boat. Yesterday the sultry weather was bearable; the fiery day was definitely doused out by his aquatic adventures. Yesterday he grimaced when Harrison made the snide remark of claiming that his boat was worth more than his truck and thankfully had packed enough beer necessary to not only get along with Harrison but also to quench his thirst in a very fun way. Yesterday, in fact, he drank from the surplus of beer before they had even left the city. Yesterday he finished an entire case of Bud Light before both noon and his scrumptious lunch: a cornucopia of fresh lake bream and catfish which, luckily for him, was already prepared in his grandparents’ fridge with a note on top of the container urging him to have a blessed Independence Day. Yesterday had consisted of tubing using Harrison’s boat and playing drinking games and watching the annual fireworks display during a normally imperturbable and stolid black summer night. Yesterday, just as he imagined it, the heavens became voluptuous; the petulant lightning of a distant thunderstorm and a continuous cascade of pastels screamed their way across the night sky-- illuminating everything. Yesterday his heart had exploded just like the sky above him when he spotted a gal wearing an all white dress made interesting with rhinestones like diamond sparkles whose scintillating light radiated across the lake’s fragile aquamarine waves like a lighthouse to his shipwreck heart. Yesterday there were two victims of theft, the first of which was her all white dress which had stolen all of the moonlight and the second of which was his own conflagrant heart. Yesterday all he needed to fall in love was just one crucial glance which had developed into more of a studied gaze like that which he gave his school books on the eve of an important test. Yesterday, he concluded, was a *****in' American day.

[Delta40]

I am a little confused by the beginning and at first I thought this guy has a raging hangover coupled with flashbacks from serving his country. But then it lapses into a long tirade where every sentence begins with Yesterday (I don't know why you have capitlized that word at the beginning) I figure yesterday is somehow relevant but it doesn't quite reveal itself in the story.

Having said that, you have a grasp of the english language and with continued writing, I am confident that you can nothing else but improve so keep writing!

[Ole Miss Rebel]

Thank you for your response.

Looking back at it, it kinda sucks but I'm going to keep trying. :/

[fizickse]

Ok, I like your writing style, BUT, I have some serious suggestions for you.

-You like to use a broad vocabulary, which I think is good when done right. However, you cannot just throw big words in there and expect it to magically fit correctly. Some words just sound awkward depending on how you use it. For example, "normally imperturbable and stolid black summer night" could've been written without "imperturbable" in my opinion. It would just flow more nicely.

-Avoid alliterations, which I noticed that your story had a lot of. A couple examples that stuck out were "sensitive sinuses succumb", "clacks and crackles", "putrid perfumes", and "brutal barrage". Alliterations are very easy to mistakenly write, but that's what I consider them, a mistake 90% of the time. Removing alliterations from your writing will make it sound more mature. But then again, that's just my 2 cents. When I spot an alliteration in my writing, I immediately remove it.

"the petulant lightning of a distant thunderstorm and a continuous cascade of pastels screamed their way across the night sky"

I liked this sentence because it used the word "pastel", which is an unusual word for that I've yet to see when describing imagery, but I wished a few words were changed. I would've written it as "the petulant lightning of a distant thunderstorm and an vibrant flux of pastels trundled their way across the night sky".

Good luck in your writing class.

[hillwalker]

Your style is probably going to change once you start on the course - you've already got the raw beginnings of a worthwhile writer but you do overwrite. You employ far too many descriptors - which drag the story to a halt time and time again.

It's a good exercise to write something every day - no matter how trashy - and eventually the garbage that we all carry around in our heads will be cleared away to make room for fresh stuff.

As for your assertation 'I do not write creatively' - what did you just do then? Cut and paste from someone else's work? I doubt that.

Good luck

H

[Ole Miss Rebel]

I absolutely love everyone's suggestions! Spot on.

[Delta40]

here are some examples of alliteration, which btw I had to look up in the dictionary first!

http://home.vicnet.net.au/~poems/ps/html/alliteration_examples.html

[Ole Miss Rebel]

I kinda did the alliteration thing on purpose because I thought it was cool. I suppose not lol

[Steven Hunley]

Thought I'd wade in here and give my two cents worth. This is quite a start!

Creative writing is more pragmatic than standardized English and essays and the like. They always maintain rigid forms and rules while creative writing is whatever works. This quality can free you up and allow you to experiment.

I like your style. As was mentioned, watch out for over-use of modifiers. You start out thinking they'll make the work or nouns more descriptive and exact, but at the same time they weaken the impact.

I think alliteration is fine. But not too much. It's used in poetry, but then poetry is condensed anyway. But it does, sometimes, make the work more sonorous. I like your sentence length variations. So effective. And a broad vocabulary never hurts. Can't wait for more. Good luck.

[Ole Miss Rebel]

Here's an excerpt from something I just wrote up. Is this an improvement?

Those six years since elementary school have passed by quickly for John and are reminiscent of the most agile moment in his life so far, his game-winning touchdown during the Greenville-Clarksdale High School rivalry match-up his sophomore year. The fate of the game rested in John’s hands. Literally. He was not a fast runner but both Coach Miller and the Greenville Tigers Booster Club valued his remarkable dexterity--- he never dropped a pass. The Greenville High School scoreboard illuminated 21-17 and only 8 seconds left. Conservatively, Coach Miller decided that John would receive the football during the crucial last play for the Greenville Tigers regardless of his worries about John’s speed, fully aware that the Clarksdale players could outrun him. He knew John would catch the ball. Coach Miller instructed the Tigers to run a right cross pass to John who would be waiting down-field. And so C.J., the quarterback, accurately whizzed the football to John who caught it effortlessly as it fell from the night sky into his awaiting hands. However, a Clarksdale defender, absolutely massive and black, blocked his path to the endzone. Luckily for John, his loyal friend Quintan, also massive and black, came rushing and tackled the brutish Clarksdale player; the impact of the two colliding giants almost knocked the football out of John’s hands. However, John maintained possession of the football and sprinted towards the endzone. Football now tucked in tightly, coveted like a priceless jewel, John refused to look behind him at the pursuing horde of furious Clarksdale players desperate for him to taste the rich Delta soil like their fallen comrade. John’s parents sat with the Greenville Tigers Booster Club members in the bleachers and prayed that he would be able to outrun the Clarksdale pursuit for 35 yards to win the game. Enthusiastic for their first victory against Clarksdale in seven years, the fans of the Greenville Tigers smelt victory and erupted the stadium with metallic surges of sound as they jolted up from the bleachers. The fans were anxious. Alive. They roared with applause which grew louder as John edged speedily towards the endzone. The tumultuous audience, however, could not approach the volume of John’s own consciousness which like a broken record kept repeating Run, you pussy, run! in Coach Miller’s shrill voice. Every synapse in John’s brain filled with adrenaline and his desire to reach the endzone was superhuman. This would be his time to shine. He would reach the endzone. And he did. And it was the proudest moment in John’s life. And the years have seemed to pass the same way, rushing by--- the past in pursuit.

[Ole Miss Rebel]

Thought I'd wade in here and give my two cents worth. This is quite a start!

Creative writing is more pragmatic than standardized English and essays and the like. They always maintain rigid forms and rules while creative writing is whatever works. This quality can free you up and allow you to experiment.

I like your style. As was mentioned, watch out for over-use of modifiers. You start out thinking they'll make the work or nouns more descriptive and exact, but at the same time they weaken the impact.

I think alliteration is fine. But not too much. It's used in poetry, but then poetry is condensed anyway. But it does, sometimes, make the work more sonorous. I like your sentence length variations. So effective. And a broad vocabulary never hurts. Can't wait for more. Good luck.

Sorry it took so long for me to get a response to you. I really appreciate this comment. Thanks for taking the time to write it. :D

[hillwalker]

It's rather like reportage - something you would read on the back page of a Sports newspaper. You tell us pretty much everything that happened in the game, but for anyone clueless about American Football it's of no real interest.

But more to the point, them main character is also uninteresting because we don't get to see things through John's eyes or feel his emotions because you show us next to nothing of how his mind works or what motivates him.

Telling a story is different to reporting a series of events - hopefully something you will soon realise once you begin your course.

You write well enough - grammatically - but you need to develop your story-telling skills which is what 'creative' writing is all about.

H

[Ole Miss Rebel]

It's rather like reportage - something you would read on the back page of a Sports newspaper. You tell us pretty much everything that happened in the game, but for anyone clueless about American Football it's of no real interest.

But more to the point, them main character is also uninteresting because we don't get to see things through John's eyes or feel his emotions because you show us next to nothing of how his mind works or what motivates him.

Telling a story is different to reporting a series of events - hopefully something you will soon realise once you begin your course.

You write well enough - grammatically - but you need to develop your story-telling skills which is what 'creative' writing is all about.

H

I think your advice is absolutely spot on!! I'm going to keep this thread updated with different things until I hit a certain 'sweet spot.' Thank you so much for taking the time to so bluntly analyze it!