Your writing critiqued
James McCreet applies his forensic gaze to the first 300 words of a reader’s manuscript
It started like most unexpected tragedies start; uneventfully.1 The day was grey and overcast with a constant stream of drizzle2 that did nothing to dampen Zoe’s spirits.3 The forest was a wash of reds, oranges and yellows.4 Leaves were falling as quickly as the rain5 and the smell of damp foliage mixed with that of bonfire smoke that seemed to be constantly around that time of year.6
“Aren’t you cold?” said Oliver, looking at Zoe in just her jumper.7 The son of a mother from Berkshire and a father from Edinburgh, Oliver’s accent constantly swapped from English to Scottish, sometimes mid-sentence.8
“A bit,” she admitted.9 “But I don’t mind the cold. It reminds me I’m alive.”10
“Most people don’t need reminding.”11
“Yeah they do,12 they just don’t realize it. It’s why people like rollercoasters and scary films. Reminds them they’re more than a drone working in a boring box.”13
They stopped talking14 while they tried to navigate a patch of marshy ground without sinking up to their knees.15
“George asked Jess out the other day,” said Zoe, leaping onto a rock sticking out of the mud.16
“Finally. How long has everyone been saying they should get together?”17
“She said no,” replied Zoe,18 jumping from the rock to the solid ground.19 Misjudging her footing, she slipped and had to put her foot back to steady herself.20 Her trainer sank into the stinking mud, filling with goop and freezing water.21
“Why would she say no?” said Oliver, as Zoe cursed and tried to wipe the dirt and water off with a handful of fallen leaves.22 Zoe shrugged and wiped her hands on her jumper.23 “Because she doesn’t like him like that. They’re friends.”24 Oliver jumped nimbly25 to the rock and then to the path,26 avoiding the marshy puddle completely.27