Cumulative Syntax
Nov. 6th, 2010 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonyphoenixI'm watching an awesome DVD series, Building Great Sentences: Exploring the Writer's Craft as taught by Professor Brooks Landon, on cumulative syntax. Once again I'm amazed and impressed by what my public library actually carries. I highly recommend this set of DVDs if you can get your hands on it, but, if not, apparently Virginia Tufet's Artful Sentences: Syntax as Style, which I haven't read yet, also goes into it. The thing I like most about cumulative syntax is that it's a simple technique for adding information and details to a sentence.
Here is what I wrote today; while it is somewhat difficult to separate out, the bolded sections are what was inspired by Landon's lectures. Note: this is a rough first draft so the grammar may not be entirely correct (for example I just changed a present tense verb to past tense so it would fit in with the rest of the text.)
“Please me, is it? Oh, I think I can come up with something.” He forced a finger into her mouth, thinking of it as an invasion, as a plundering of her personal space, before he pulled it out only to squeeze her jaw with his hand. As he tossed her to the ground, picturing her naked and bound at his feet, he simply said, “Suck my dick.”
With trembling hands, her face alight with anticipation, Willow unzipped his pants. She blinked in surprise a few times when she realized he didn't wear underwear, but then licked her lips. Wrapping her lips around his cock, she engulfed in him one swift motion, taking him as deeply as she thought she could. It wasn't enough for Angelus. Grabbing her head to hold it still, he shoved himself deeper until the tightness of her throat was squeezing around his cock, sending shivers of pleasure up his body. When she started choking, he thought of taking her that way, of strangling her with his dick until her death rattle, forcing her to spasm around him, released him and shot his seed down her dying throat, but no. The love spell, that spot of magic making her so subservient to him, also made her invaluable, at least while Buffy was still alive. So he satisfied himself by pulling out of that intense tightness, just long enough for her to drag on an almost adequate gasp of air, before shoving himself back in, time and time again, the tightness of her throat, the raw way she flinched away from the pain, and the desperation of her gasps increasing the tension and intensity until, with a shudder, he came.
As he zipped his pants back into place, Willow, choking on the rawness of her throat, wiped come and saliva off her face. “Try to make yourself presentable,” he growled, “and then get home. You shouldn't have come here in the first place.”
Willow, unfulfilled, felt a sense of abandonment as she watched Angelus leave the room. She wiped some of his come, which had spilled out of her mouth even though she'd done her best to swallow it all, and licked it off her hand. As she picked herself off the floor, her eyes lit on the Spike doll lying on the floor where Angelus had so casually tossed aside. With a quick glance to the door, feeling as if she were doing something improper, she shoved the doll into the pocket of her skirt before following Angelus into what she thought of as the living room, where he'd set up some furniture, leather couches and chairs along with a small table, before the fireplace. He was standing, staring into the fire, and didn't turn even though he must have heard her enter the room. “You,” she stuttered, “will you visit me tomorrow?”
A look of fury flashed across his face, but only smiles and gentleness showed when he turned to her. “How could I stay angry with you, my love?” he asked, holding out his arms in invitation. She ran to him, holding him tenderly like a lover would, and he wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her tightly in a cage of flesh and bone that Willow, bespelled into love, couldn't even see as a trap.
“I'll walk you home,” he said after a few moments, long to him but seeming like mere seconds to her. She smiled up at him, trusting that in his love he'd always do what was best for them, and took his hand. He carefully pulled his hand out of hers. “I'll follow in the shadows,” he said. At her frown, he added, “We can't be seen together, not yet. You know that.”
“Will you stay with me until morning?”
He was about to deny her, trusting the love spell to ensure her loyalty, when his thoughts turned to the idea of spending the night wrapped around a warm human body, with a woman who wanted him so much she'd willingly and even happily do anything he desired. “How could I not?” he asked.
Willow's hand brushed against the doll hidden in her skirt. “I left my bag in the bedroom,” she said, crossing her fingers against the lie and hoping Angelus wouldn't recognize the bag, which held the spell components she'd used to make Angel love her, as Drusilla's.
Here is what I wrote today; while it is somewhat difficult to separate out, the bolded sections are what was inspired by Landon's lectures. Note: this is a rough first draft so the grammar may not be entirely correct (for example I just changed a present tense verb to past tense so it would fit in with the rest of the text.)
“Please me, is it? Oh, I think I can come up with something.” He forced a finger into her mouth, thinking of it as an invasion, as a plundering of her personal space, before he pulled it out only to squeeze her jaw with his hand. As he tossed her to the ground, picturing her naked and bound at his feet, he simply said, “Suck my dick.”
With trembling hands, her face alight with anticipation, Willow unzipped his pants. She blinked in surprise a few times when she realized he didn't wear underwear, but then licked her lips. Wrapping her lips around his cock, she engulfed in him one swift motion, taking him as deeply as she thought she could. It wasn't enough for Angelus. Grabbing her head to hold it still, he shoved himself deeper until the tightness of her throat was squeezing around his cock, sending shivers of pleasure up his body. When she started choking, he thought of taking her that way, of strangling her with his dick until her death rattle, forcing her to spasm around him, released him and shot his seed down her dying throat, but no. The love spell, that spot of magic making her so subservient to him, also made her invaluable, at least while Buffy was still alive. So he satisfied himself by pulling out of that intense tightness, just long enough for her to drag on an almost adequate gasp of air, before shoving himself back in, time and time again, the tightness of her throat, the raw way she flinched away from the pain, and the desperation of her gasps increasing the tension and intensity until, with a shudder, he came.
As he zipped his pants back into place, Willow, choking on the rawness of her throat, wiped come and saliva off her face. “Try to make yourself presentable,” he growled, “and then get home. You shouldn't have come here in the first place.”
Willow, unfulfilled, felt a sense of abandonment as she watched Angelus leave the room. She wiped some of his come, which had spilled out of her mouth even though she'd done her best to swallow it all, and licked it off her hand. As she picked herself off the floor, her eyes lit on the Spike doll lying on the floor where Angelus had so casually tossed aside. With a quick glance to the door, feeling as if she were doing something improper, she shoved the doll into the pocket of her skirt before following Angelus into what she thought of as the living room, where he'd set up some furniture, leather couches and chairs along with a small table, before the fireplace. He was standing, staring into the fire, and didn't turn even though he must have heard her enter the room. “You,” she stuttered, “will you visit me tomorrow?”
A look of fury flashed across his face, but only smiles and gentleness showed when he turned to her. “How could I stay angry with you, my love?” he asked, holding out his arms in invitation. She ran to him, holding him tenderly like a lover would, and he wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her tightly in a cage of flesh and bone that Willow, bespelled into love, couldn't even see as a trap.
“I'll walk you home,” he said after a few moments, long to him but seeming like mere seconds to her. She smiled up at him, trusting that in his love he'd always do what was best for them, and took his hand. He carefully pulled his hand out of hers. “I'll follow in the shadows,” he said. At her frown, he added, “We can't be seen together, not yet. You know that.”
“Will you stay with me until morning?”
He was about to deny her, trusting the love spell to ensure her loyalty, when his thoughts turned to the idea of spending the night wrapped around a warm human body, with a woman who wanted him so much she'd willingly and even happily do anything he desired. “How could I not?” he asked.
Willow's hand brushed against the doll hidden in her skirt. “I left my bag in the bedroom,” she said, crossing her fingers against the lie and hoping Angelus wouldn't recognize the bag, which held the spell components she'd used to make Angel love her, as Drusilla's.
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no subject
Date: 2010-11-06 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 03:02 pm (UTC)Up until now I wrote what came out and edited it a number of times, but didn't think (that much) about what details might add to the scene. If I did think about an image, it would be one that related to a whole scene rather than to details within the scene.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 07:49 pm (UTC)When I've helped as a beta on other peoples' work I've always told them to show instead of tell. Don't ever just write: Xander was angry.
That doesn't really show me anything important about the character. What does he look like when he's angry? Is it obvious to the other characters that he's angry?
Often the thing that makes a story a "good read" or the characters "in character" is detail.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 05:37 pm (UTC)Signed,
The Fairy Godmother of Verbal Usage
no subject
Date: 2010-11-08 12:10 am (UTC)