Activity

As you have seen in our last lesson, emotions have a HUGE impact of suspense.

And now you get to write about it.

Just cos you guys are awesome and I believe in your writing skills, I’m entrusting another snippet day to you! See if you can keep using past lessons to build suspense, as well as following a few of my own tips for this lesson, and noting your observations from your last lesson. (In regards to how you felt your emotions)

 

I will get through this. I won’t let them break me. I won’t.

The once celebrating veterans of buildings now glare down on me from a distance, their graffiti costumes concealed under grey, reflective paint and their sense of foreboding pressing down on me like the soldiers that killed my father only two years ago. No Ashley. Just focus. We need the money.

The grey dots of headstones with bright splashes of artificial flowers gradually transform into cloned cement houses. Green grass fades into grey pavement with spiderweb cracks—yellow lichen struggling to squeeze up to see the light. A hand squeezes painfully tight around my chest as a white building looms up out of the endless sea of ashes.

The steel door slides open when I reach it—a mouth waiting to consume me. I falter for a moment, then stumble in and cast my gaze over the bland room as the door slides closed with a muffled thud. I push my shoulders back and raise my chin, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I am not afraid. Nothing will happen.

A lady clad in the fiery shirt with a white lab coat—the unofficial uniform of the scientists—sitting at the main desk looks up at me. Her tightly pinned, greying hair doesn’t move at the sudden jolt, though her blue eyes widen, startled that anyone would come into the Lab by choice. “Experiment twenty-eight?”

I nod, grasping my hands together behind my back, clenching them so tightly that my bitten down nails feel like they could draw blood. “Yes.”

She looks back down at her hover-net and gestures carelessly with a perfectly manicured hand to a room. “Ms. Carlson is not here, so I’ll be conducting this test. Proceed inside.”

I tilt my lips into a wavering smile at her but she continues tapping at her screen. I am strong. I twist my body to face a familiar door—painted a shimmering, red like all of Carlson’s—and gently push it open with splayed fingers. I step inside, casting my gaze around the room. It settles briefly on the crisp white bed—its thin, crimson blanket with a golden trimming looked more like a few twisted strands of thread that had been clumsily tacked onto a red rag—before drifting to the operating table which serves as my chair in the oppressive room. I lift myself up by the heel of my hands and slide backward onto it, my legs dangling about a handspan from the floor.

Soon. Soon I’ll be able to stop with this. Stop coming. Start living.

 

The above was an example of using emotion in the story to add to the suspense. Now, I shall give an example of what the same scene looks like without the emotion, and you can tell me if it holds the same amount of tension and suspense as the first.

 

The tall, graffiti covered buildings fade into the distance as I run.

The grey dots of headstones with bright splashes of artificial flowers gradually transform into cloned cement houses. Green grass fades into grey pavement with spiderweb cracks—yellow lichen struggling to squeeze up to see the light. A white building comes into sight amid the grey city.

The steel door slides open when I reach it. I pause for a moment, then walk in and cast my gaze over the room as the door slides closed. I step forward.

A lady clad in the fiery shirt with a white lab coat—the unofficial uniform of the scientists—sitting at the main desk looks up at me. “Experiment twenty-eight?”

I nod, holding my hands together behind my back, “Yes.”

She looks back down at her hover-net and gestures to a room. “Ms. Carlson is not here, so I’ll be conducting this test. Proceed inside.”

I tilt my lips into a smile at her but she continues tapping at her screen. I twist my body to face a familiar door—painted a shimmering, red like all of Carlson’s—and  push it open with. I step inside, casting my gaze around the room. It settles briefly on the crisp white bed with a thin, crimson blanket before drifting to the operating table which serves as my chair in the room. I lift myself up by the heel of my hands and slide backward onto it, my legs dangling about a handspan from the floor.

 

Goodness that last one made me cringe. Nothing about it puts the reader on the edge of their seat, and doesn’t even raise a small level of concern for the poor character. *pats the charrie*

 

All I changed in there was the emotion. From being a slightly foreboding situation, she was in a sterile, emotionless environment. Despite the other aspects of suspense used, this held no true suspense. To make any of the other suspense things seem real, you need to have emotions. These can be displayed by thoughts (I will be strong), by sensations (A hand squeezes painfully tight around my chest), and by actions (grasping my hands together behind my back, clenching them so tightly that my bitten down nails feel like they could draw blood).

You need to write two snippets this time: one without emotions, and one with emotions. See how the suspense differs between them.

Hopefully those little tips and the examples will help you write your own ones and bring emotions to life in your own snippets and stories.

Have fuuuuuuuun!!!

 

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