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Thursday, January 2, 2014

My process writing


PEER’S COMMENTS ON THE FIRST DRAFT

My friend commented my story to be short and hanging around somewhere, unfinished. She said that the story is interesting but it is only half way. When the reader starts to get into the mood, suddenly it is cut by the ending of the story which does not portray the resolution of the plot. By the way, she praised my neat writing and the variation of vocabularies used.
When I heard her comment, I just nodded and smiled but my heart was shouting “You should watch more English movies which are unique and unpredictable so that your mind will be more creative,huhhh”. Helloooo…Story is an art. It depends on us how to ‘sculpt’ it. Sorry for being emotional. But seriously, for me, my story is not hanging. The ending of it actually foreshadows the latter part of it. Hey, you should see it in the aspect of Literature. Use your feeling and emotion, not your logic and intellect. But thanks for her to be truthful and outspoken. It is her responsibility to comment mine during the peer checking.
By the way, I need to improve my story until it sounds like a ‘really frightening’ story instead of ‘quite-but-not-frightening’ one. Am I using the correct grammar rules? Never mind. Fluency is important that accuracy sometimes.haha. So, I tried to come out with the second draft of the story and sent it to our tutor. Tadaaaa…later we see what his comment is about. Just wait and see…




THE SECOND DRAFT OF MY FRIGHTENING STORY

The dead tree branches cracked as I hastily walked in the dark woods. My left foot turned into white and the blood oozed from it. I tried to walk swiftly and forget my injured left foot. I am lost, but the woods charmed me in. My legs were daring to go on, and I just kept walking, following them.
A bat suddenly lurched from behind a tree branch and flew onto another tree right in front of me, as if taunting me, hand in hand with him. They were all working together, trying to make fear envelope me.
The mud walkway between the trees created an unmistakable path, on which I must walk and one which I must follow. The mud walkway led me down, further down its slopes. I could hear the silent brushing on the stream against the solid rocks just ahead. I could see the slight ripple of the water, as the current took each ripple downstream. Where is he going? Where is he flowing? I looked into the clear mirror and saw my dusty face. The mirror was never static. Should I follow it or should I jump over it and kept walking?
I decided to follow the stream. I was curious to know where it would lead me. And so the woods, the enchanting, mysterious prince drew me into his arms. The tall, dead trees in front of me were waving and the cold wind was whistling around me as if they were all welcoming me. Deep down in my heart saying that there was someone waiting for me inside the smoky woods. I kept walking through it. Just wait for me.  




TUTOR’S COMMENTS ON THE SECOND DRAFT

Once again, zassss…I was shot! The tutor said my story was not frightening enough. Sob,sob…I accepted the weaknesses of my story, it’s alright. Ehem,ehem..Now, be serious.
The first comment that I received after he read my story is the overall idea of the story which was not yet frightening enough. He said that the element of horror was there but not elaborated properly. Maybe I should use certain terms that make my story become dramatic. It is also possible for me to add on some other scary ideas and elaborate them nicely. The tutor then explained briefly to me how to improve the story to make it more frightening.
The second comment of the tutor is about the length of my story. He said that the story was very short. It is quite hard for an author to pour all the ideas into one short paragraph. That is why the story is hanging and the readers do not understand what is actually happening in the story that the writer wants to convey.
After I heard his comments, I realised that my friend is right. Shame on me! Even though I have edited my first draft based on my friend’s comments, still I could not produce a good writing. Ohh..I demotivate myself. It’s improper for a human being to downgrade himself. I’m sorry, myself. Later I’ll produce a better writing. Good luck oncoming third draft=)  




THE THIRD DRAFT OF MY FRIGHTENING STORY

The dead tree branches cracked as I hastily walked in the dark woods. My left foot turned into white and the blood oozed from it. I tried to walk swiftly and forget my injured left foot. I am lost, but the woods charmed me in. My legs were daring to go on, and I just kept walking, following them.
A bat suddenly lurched from behind a tree branch and flew onto another tree right in front of me, as if taunting me, hand in hand with him. They were all working together, trying to make fear envelope me.
The mud walkway between the trees created an unmistakable path, on which I must walk and one which I must follow. The mud walkway led me down, further down its slopes. I could hear the silent brushing on the stream against the solid rocks just ahead. I could see the slight ripple of the water, as the current took each ripple downstream. Where is he going? Where is he flowing? I looked into the clear mirror and saw my dusty face. The mirror was never static. Should I follow it or should I jump over it and kept walking?
I decided to follow the stream. I was curious to know where it would lead me. The tall, dead trees in front of me were waving and the cold wind was whistling around me as if they were all welcoming me. “Is this a dream?” I was dragging my legs towards a big, ancient house. Where I was, I had no idea, only which the gigantic house in dark woods. I passed through a huge tree where the branches looked like man’s fingers. It was leafless. There was a feeling of deja vu as I reached that house, “is it real, did I dream it, am I dreaming it?”

I walked towards the main door of the house and pushed the door slowly. It was dark. I walked from the room unobserved, unnoticed, into the stone corridors. Distant noises impinged on my consciousness. The sounds of distress, of tears, of fear, of pain, emanated from closed doors as I passed, and yet I felt nothing. At times I glided across the floor, wraith like, at others feeling the stone stepped beneath my feet. I passed statues at doors, which seemed wild and violent. “Can anything here be real? Am I a phantom in my own dreams?”

At last I found the room, drawn like a moth to a flame. There was no sounds, no cries, no torment, no guard on the door. I reached out my hand to touch the heavy wood with my fingertips, it swung open easily, as if I had been expected.

She was hanging upside down by a rope, while a sweating butcher slowly and carefully sliced the skin from her still living body, as it swung slightly at under his experienced hands. The floor was running with blood and discarded flesh and through it all, the girl smiled at me. They were not human being! The girl was a corpse, a living corpse.

I turned and ran as fast as I could, ignoring my injured leg. I must go back. Why must I go back if that was just a dream? I passed the main door and ran through the dark woods. I continued my journey from the dark woods into the reality, still dreaming.




  

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