WritingFreak
New member
- Nov 2, 2011
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Basically, whenever I write (and talk) I can't help but talk like I've swallowed a dictionary. I've been like it since I was a little kid, and yes, at times it's beneficial in some situations, but if I'm trying to write realistically, my characters sound so posh, even though according to the storyline, they're really not. Their conversations also sound quite formal even though they're meant to be best friends. Please can you critique and suggest improvements? Thank you.
“I can’t begin to imagine what horrors are going on up there,” she whispers, patting my head. “I know that now. And… I can’t imagine anything worse… than what you’re going through. It sounds awful with all the starvation and disease that’s going on in the world but…” she gazes at me. “I have all the evidence I need in front of me to make my conclusion.”
“Spare me the pity.” I groan.
“It’s not,” says Luna. “Just an observation.”
“Tell me what you’re observing.”
“When I look at you, I see…” she sighs. “I see you running out of hope. I see you trapped forever with something you can’t cope with. I see your mind screaming, deeper than the physical screams… a scream that can never be fully released. Your mind’s crying out for something that no-one can provide.”
“You’re providing it now,” I say. Somehow, I need someone to tell me all this, however daunting her speech may seem. I need someone to recognise what’s going on inside me, even if they can do nothing about it. I close my eyes, leaning closer against her. “Tell me more.”
She seems surprised, but she continues, “The scars… the wounds on your body. Some may think that they’re purely superficial, but they’re not. They’re a reflection of your broken state. Battle wounds from a war that only exists in your head… but the war is real. It’s a war you can’t escape from. And someone is holding a gun to your head… and you’re willing them to pull the trigger. But they won’t. And they never will. They’re keeping you, strung up and tortured, and all you want is that bullet in your brain. You think you can maybe reach the trigger if you injure the guard…”
I’m suddenly completely alert. “Yes?” I demand, my eyes bulging open.
Luna stops, looking despondent. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this. I shouldn’t be influencing you...”
“I can’t begin to imagine what horrors are going on up there,” she whispers, patting my head. “I know that now. And… I can’t imagine anything worse… than what you’re going through. It sounds awful with all the starvation and disease that’s going on in the world but…” she gazes at me. “I have all the evidence I need in front of me to make my conclusion.”
“Spare me the pity.” I groan.
“It’s not,” says Luna. “Just an observation.”
“Tell me what you’re observing.”
“When I look at you, I see…” she sighs. “I see you running out of hope. I see you trapped forever with something you can’t cope with. I see your mind screaming, deeper than the physical screams… a scream that can never be fully released. Your mind’s crying out for something that no-one can provide.”
“You’re providing it now,” I say. Somehow, I need someone to tell me all this, however daunting her speech may seem. I need someone to recognise what’s going on inside me, even if they can do nothing about it. I close my eyes, leaning closer against her. “Tell me more.”
She seems surprised, but she continues, “The scars… the wounds on your body. Some may think that they’re purely superficial, but they’re not. They’re a reflection of your broken state. Battle wounds from a war that only exists in your head… but the war is real. It’s a war you can’t escape from. And someone is holding a gun to your head… and you’re willing them to pull the trigger. But they won’t. And they never will. They’re keeping you, strung up and tortured, and all you want is that bullet in your brain. You think you can maybe reach the trigger if you injure the guard…”
I’m suddenly completely alert. “Yes?” I demand, my eyes bulging open.
Luna stops, looking despondent. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this. I shouldn’t be influencing you...”