Edit: good start on a story, work needed on the writing

Diane sent this as the prologue for her novel. Unedited, it reads this way:

"Run!" he shouted from behind. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, and although she heard it, she froze. She wanted to run, but couldn't. Couldn't move a thing, not her legs, or her feet- everything seemed stuck. Like her mind, stuck in a place that was always dark, damp and cold, a cerebral prison.

"Run dammit!" he shouted again, this time with more urgency and she felt a pop. Similar to what you experience after flying, "pop" her ears, her eyes, her mind went and everything around her came into focus. Everything was clear. Days, weeks of despair and fear smacked her in the face. He was letting her go, but why? She shuffled along the muddy landscape, moving slowly at first, stiff, like the Tin Man. She feared looking back. She never wanted to look back, not at today, the last weeks, or last month for that matter. If she just kept moving forward, she would find her way out of this mess, and back home.

The terrain grew muddier, it's gravitational pull, slowed her every step, and made it difficult to run. She heard branches snapping and stopped dead cold in her tracks. Was he behind her now? Had he caught up to her already? But when she listened at the silence that surrounded her, she realized that it was her feet snapping the branches below. She moved further into the thickness of the woods. She believed somewhere on the other side of it lies a highway- a highway to freedom, where lies a warm shower, and a soft bed. The thoughts alone warmed her up and increased her steps. The woods were thick, but not thick enough to hide the glow of streetlights she saw off in a distance. She pushed herself harder. It was almost dark fall, and with the darkness came the cold, and yet another unexpected visitor, rain. She shivered with every step, her hands were numb and purple from palm to fingertip, but she kept moving towards the light, only a few yards away at most she thought. Someone emerged from the woods in front of her. Someone she knew. A smile crept at the corners of her mouth.

"Thank God," she said. She took a step forward, and then two back. An explosion of colors and sound rocked her body and the earth around her. There was a whistling sound that started somewhere behind her ears and ended in a loud explosion at the back of her head. She felt herself falling, slow, graceful, like a feather and even though she anticipated the ground to be hard and cold, it was not. The rain had stopped and the woods were silent. The warmth that spread from the back of her head, also warmed her back and she was no longer cold. She couldn't hear him but she could see him as clear as day. He kneeled down beside her. He was crying. But why? She couldn't understand. They were free, he had saved her. Then she saw the gun.

There are good story elements, but for me the tension is…muffled by too much language. Caveat: all any editor can offer is opinion -- my cuts, additions, and comments are suggestions, not facts, to be used or discarded by the writer.

Here's the first paragraph, edited without showing cuts. Compare it with the original.

"Run!" he shouted from behind her.  She wanted to run, but couldn't move.  Not her legs, her feet -- everything seemed stuck.  Like her mind, stuck in a place always dark, damp and cold, a cerebral prison.

Okay, here's more, with edits and comments.

"Run dammit!" he shouted again., this time with more urgency. and s She felt a pop  in her ears, as if she were in an airplane.  Similar to what you experience after flying, "pop" her ears, her eyes, her mind went and e Everything around her came into focus.  Everything was clear. Days, weeks of despair and fear smacked her in the face. He was letting her go, but why? She shuffled along the muddy landscape, (landscape is vague. a trail? a field? no grass? bushes? later we learn she is in woods; we should know that now) moving slowly at first, stiff, like the Tin Man. (Tin Man evokes a comedic metal guy dancing and singing with a little girl; doesn't seem the right image here. suggest you look for something else or cut it.) She feared looking back. She never wanted to look back, not at today, the last weeks, orthe last month for that matter.  If she just kept moving forward, she would find her way out of this mess, and back home.

The terrain grew muddier, it's gravitational pull, slowed her every step, and made it difficult to run. ("gravitational pull" threw me. is this SF? planets have gravitational pull, terrain is just the skin of the planet. suggest stick with the mud, i.e. The terrain grew muddier, pulling at her feet, slowing her.) She heard branches snapping and stopped dead cold in her tracks.  Was he behind her now? Had he caught up to her already?  But when sShe listened at the silence that surrounded her, she and realized that it was her, feet snapping the branches below.  She moved further into the thickness of the woods.  She believed somewhere on the other side of it lay lies a highway- a highway to freedom, where lies a warm shower, and a soft bed.  The thoughts alone warmed her up and increased her steps.

The woods were thick, but not thick enough to hide the glow of streetlights sshe aw off in a the distance.  She pushed herself harder.  It was almost dark fall, and with the darkness it came the cold and yet another unexpected visitor, rain.  She shivered with every step, her hands were numb and purple from palm to fingertip, but she kept moving towards the light, only a few yards away at most she thought.  Someone emerged from the woods in front of her.  Someone she knew.  A smile crept at the corners of her mouth.   She smiled.

"Thank God." she said. She took a step forward, and then two back.  An explosion of colors and sound rocked her body and the earth around her. There was a A whistling sound that started somewhere behind her ears and ended in a loud explosion at the back of her head.  She felt herself falling, slow, graceful, like a feather, and even though she anticipated the ground to would be hard and cold, it was not.

The rain had stopped and the woods were silent.  The warmth that spread from the back of her head also warmed her back and she was no longer cold.  She couldn't hear him but she could see him as clear as day.  He kneeled down knelt beside her.  He was crying.  But why? She couldn't understand. They were  She was free, he had saved her.  Then she saw the gun.

There you have it. Some necessary scene-setting was missing up front, i.e. the nature of the terrain, that she was in the woods. I trimmed redundancies, i.e. there's no need to say "slow, graceful," when you go on to say "like a feather." The simile does it all. And I added a couple of paragraph breaks to break up masses of words.

Storywise, I'd want to read further. But, if I were an agent, I might have already put this down because the writing needs to be much tighter. But Diane can learn to do that…and she can find fresh eyes to coach her.

For what it's worth.

RR

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© 2005 Ray Rhamey