That Night - my first attempt at writing something

[Lioness]

Well, for many years I've believed that I couldn't write, that I didn't have the imagination to do it. Tonight I needed to tell someone this story, so I'm hoping Microsoft Word was listening real well...it's getting a question sheet later.
Anyway, I'm mainly after critique on style, grammar, and pretty much anything apart from plot. What is told in the story is pretty much exactly what happened - I'm not changing it.
So I guess it's more of a recount, a diary entry, but I'd still like some feedback. Don't go easy on me, please. (But don't be too harsh if it's not warranted...)
Here goes:

***​

The dance finished, and I began walking off the floor, escorted by my dance partner. We did not make it as far as the seating area, for near the edge of the floor he took me by both hands, looked me in the eye and said, very seriously, ‘Ella, I have a question to ask you. Now, please don’t let this ruin your night.’ To which, somewhat hesitantly I replied, ‘I won’t’

I could tell he was about to ask this question of his, and I knew exactly what question it would be, me myself having considered it a few times before. I decided however, that I needed a little more time to think upon what he was almost certainly going to ask. Interrupting him (and not making it any easier on his part, I now realise!) I informed him that the next dance was starting, and that we should hurry to a spot on the floor. The dance was a Waltz – the dance of deep, deep friendship and trust, and yes: love.

And that, in itself, was what I had to ponder: whether to let our friendship, our very deep friendship, continue as just that, or to allow a greater degree of affection into the partnership? To do so would risk losing him as a dance partner if things did not work out for the best, but oh, how I longed to be able to finally say what had been trapped inside for so long, to express my love and affection for him. ‘Love’ may seem too strong a word, but how, when I have felt it for so long, could I call it anything else?

Far too soon I felt, for me to be entirely sure, the dance ended and once again he took my hands in his and looked me straight in the eye. In his quiet, deep voice, he repeated what he had previously said and then added, ‘So, I ask you: Ella, will you go out with me?’
It was what I had been suspecting, yet still my heart leaped. Torn between my practicality and my romantic tendencies, I froze for but a moment, thoughts whirling. After what seemed an age, to him at least, I took a deep breath and gave the slightest of nods. I did not trust myself to speak lest my heart leap out of my chest and leave me breathless, yet no-one watching would’ve perceived more than a casual conversation between us.

We began to walk off the floor, arm in arm, when another dance started – the Balmoral Blues. It was one of our least familiar dances and yet, despite me being dazed and overwhelmed throughout the entire dance (and into many more to come) I don’t believe I will ever forget it. It was magic. The only thing I was aware of was him; the warm touch of his hands, the occasional hip contact and the adrenaline rush I felt whenever his gaze met mine. All else – lights, dancers, music – was one colourful and blissfully meaningless blur. The dance was minutes long, yet it seemed to last forever. How amazing that such a simple dance could be augmented by adding blazing emotion. Indeed, without the dancers themselves the dance is just a series of steps, meaning nothing.

The next few dances passed in much the same way, me faithfully following his lead, him putting newfound emotion into our dance. The first Rumba we danced as a couple held a passion that it had never had before. It was electrifying.


So began a true partnership, one that endured through many years, taking the couple out of adolescence and into adulthood. One that stuck together through countless trials and challenges, only to emerge stronger and more prepared to face the daunting competition offered by their peers. One that carried them through those competitions, lending them the passion and emotion that transformed their dances from merely good to breathtaking. It was a pleasure for others to watch. It was, and always will be, a pleasure to dance.

***​

Reading it through, some things I know aren't quite right. The sentences sound cluttered and bad, yet I don't really want to show this to the person who normally proof reads and helps me with things like this - he's the one 'featured' in the story. I also have comma and semicolon issues, so go nuts on correcting them.

Thanks.

 

[BookStop]

This is very sweet and open, and as a diary entry, you obviously want to keep it in your own voice. So that being the case, it's perfectly lovely.

Now if it were piece of fiction, I would suggest more detail, detail, detail. What does he look like, what are you wearing, what does the room look like, did you notice anything really small and seemingly unimportant that will now be etched forever in your memory....

I think you may have over-comma'ed in a couple places, but I do it myself, so I'm somewhat unsure. I follow the,'If in doubt, leave it out' rule.

edit - And you should write more. You have a knack for putting emotion in, and that's a major skill.

 

[Lioness]

Thanks. I'll work on the detail...I want to put it in but it's too late at night now. I can't really remember anything specific that is seemingly unimportant - the entire night after that was a blur.

As for the emotion thing, it helps that I was just recounting, but I'll definitely write more. I have a short story I'm working on for a competition and I'll post that here when I'm done.

 

[Erunanion]

Its very clear that this was an amazingly emotional evening, and happiness shines through the entire piece. It has particular resonance with me as I used to dance with someone who I wanted to be closer to, and I have to say that I am smiling even as I write this - you succeed admirably in conveying the emotion you so clearly feel.

As a piece of writing, you are right that it needs tidying up. But with a small amount of work and expansion as Bookstop says (perhaps your feelings during the waltz, the butterfly-in-the-stomach feeling of whirling in his arms and all that loveliness ) it would be a wonderful piece for anyone to read, for no other reason than to read pure, unadulterated happiness.

 

[ctg]

On the note of the detail, it has to fit the character and we really don't need to know what they're wearing unless it's important to the story. I can for example imagine the dance partner very easily.

The dance finished, and I began walking off the floor, escorted by my dance partner. We did not make it as far as the seating area, for near the edge of the floor he took me by both hands, looked me in the eye and said, very seriously, ‘Ella, I have a question to ask you. Now, please don’t let this ruin your night.’ To which, somewhat hesitantly I replied, ‘I won’t’

It's an elegant beginning, but somewhat clumsy. If you look the first highlight, and remove it. Read the sentence and continue with the dialogue. You see that the spoken line is already in serious tone, but it needs a bit of honing, in which comes the second highlight. If you end the dialogue line there and introduce us her thoughts combined to action then it flows better. Underneath is the example in a way I can image it.

...looked me in the eye and said, "Ella, I have a question." I bit my lib and studied his face as he continued. "And I don't want to ruin your evening with it, so please..." To which I hesitantly replied. "Go ahead," as I hated so much of the unknown. But then again I kind was able to guess what question he was going to pop in the air. It had been doing rounds in my head for days already.

I could tell he was about to ask this question of his, and I knew exactly what question it would be, me myself having considered it a few times before. I decided however, that I needed a little more time to think upon what he was almost certainly going to ask. Interrupting him (and not making it any easier on his part, I now realise!) I informed him that the next dance was starting, and that we should hurry to a spot on the floor. The dance was a Waltz – the dance of deep, deep friendship and trust, and yes: love.

It's a bit clumsy paragraph, as you can see from my example from the above. If you keep the style then you're showing rather then telling. However, my style of writing might not be best for you. So it's best if you do it, then me rewriting it for you. So the question is, can you do it?

 

[Lioness]

Thanks Erunanion and ctg.

ctg: I can see what you're saying with that last paragraph, and also with the first highlighted bit. The second one I'm not going to change because that was actually what he said. I think the paragraph that was cluttered was where I slipped out of my emotions and into my thoughts, and it took on a tone half way between my essay writing and what I wanted it to be.
I'm going away for Christmas but when I come back I'll go over it again and definitely take in what you've said.

If there's anyone else out there, I welcome more and more critique.

 

[ctg]

Darling, just take it easy and have fun with it. Merry Christmas.

 

[chrispenycate]

It's done it to me again; this computer doesn't want me to critique your piece. I posted once before christmas, and it didn't appear, and this time it was sent into cyberlimbo.

As regards punctuation, there are a few commas that are not essential, but they're not actually wrong, and they give a kind of breathy, slightly shy feel to the piece which goes well with the character. The colon? If you want a slightly longer pause than a comma would give you, what choice is there save to bend the rules a little?

me myself having considered it a few times before.

Grammatically that should be "I myself", the "I" being the subject of the verb.

Why did the last paragraph go all narrator and impersonal, while the rest is intimate and first-persony, particularly when you make it clear in the last sentence that it was the same person writing? Not that there's anything wrong with it, as such; I just don't see why the pair blissfully blazing through those last dances suddenly become "the couple", display item six two seven.

 

[Lioness]

The last paragraph I think I had that way as a sort of reflection. I wasn't really sure how to end it. If your computer will ever let you, I'd appreciate the proper critique, especially which commas are and aren't needed.

Thanks.

 

[Lioness]

Whoops, double post.

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Hi Lioness, just a few technical points :-

Well, for many years I've believed that I couldn't write, that I didn't have the imagination to do it. Tonight I needed to tell someone this story, so I'm hoping Microsoft Word was listening real well...it's getting a question sheet later.
Anyway, I'm mainly after critique on style, grammar, and pretty much anything apart from plot. What is told in the story is pretty much exactly what happened - I'm not changing it.
So I guess it's more of a recount, a diary entry, but I'd still like some feedback. Don't go easy on me, please. (But don't be too harsh if it's not warranted...)
Here goes:

***​

The dance finished, and I began walking off the floor, escorted by my dance partner. We did not make it as far as the seating area, for near the edge of the floor he took me by both hands, looked me in the eye and said, very seriously, ‘Ella, I have a question to ask you. Now, please don’t let this ruin your night.’ To which, somewhat hesitantly I replied, ‘I won’t’

I could tell he was about to ask this question of his, and I knew exactly what question it would be, me myself having considered it a few times before. I decided however, that I needed a little more time to think upon what he was almost (before you said she knew exactly, now you introduce doubt) certainly going to ask. Interrupting him (and not making it any easier on his part, I now realise!) I informed him that the next dance was starting, and that we should hurry to a spot on the floor. The dance was a Waltz – the dance of deep, deep friendship and trust, and yes: love.

And that, in itself, was what I had to ponder: whether to let our friendship, our very deep friendship, continue as just that, or to allow a greater degree of affection into the partnership? To do so would risk losing him as a dance partner if things did not work out for the best, but oh, how I longed to be able to finally say what had been trapped inside for so long, to express my love and affection for him. ‘Love’ may seem too strong a word, but how, when I have felt it for so long, could I call it anything else?

Far too soon I felt, for me to be entirely sure, the dance ended and once again he took my hands in his and looked me straight in the eye. In his quiet, deep voice, he repeated what he had previously said and then added, ‘So, I ask you: Ella, will you go out with me?’
It was what I had been suspecting, yet still my heart leaped. Torn between my practicality and my romantic tendencies, I froze for but a moment, thoughts whirling. After what seemed an age, to him at least, I took a deep breath and gave the slightest of nods. I did not trust myself to speak lest my heart leap out of my chest and leave me breathless, yet no-one watching would’ve perceived more than a casual conversation between us.

We began to walk off the floor, arm in arm, when another dance started – the Balmoral Blues. It was one of our least familiar dances and yet, despite me being dazed and overwhelmed throughout the entire dance (and into many more to come) I don’t believe I will ever forget it. It was magic. The only thing I was aware of was him; the warm touch of his hands, the occasional hip contact and the adrenaline rush I felt whenever his gaze met mine. All else – lights, dancers, music – was one colourful and blissfully meaningless blur. The dance was minutes long, yet it seemed to last forever. How amazing that such a simple dance could be augmented by adding blazing emotion. Indeed, without the dancers themselves the dance is just a series of steps (er isn't that what all dancing is), meaning nothing.

The next few dances passed in much the same way, me faithfully following his lead, him putting newfound emotion into our dance. The first Rumba we danced as a couple held a passion that it had never had before. It was electrifying.

As Erunanion said, I think a little detail would help here, as a reader I want the extra dizziness in the turns (perhaps because the girl kept looking at him more than she should) more emotion, over enthusiastic holding maybe even making a complete hash of the dance because you didn't concentrate on the dance


So began a true partnership, one that endured through many years, taking the couple out of adolescence and into adulthood. One that stuck together through countless trials and challenges, only to emerge stronger and more prepared to face the daunting competition offered by their peers. One that carried them through those competitions, lending them the passion and emotion that transformed their dances from merely good to breathtaking. It was a pleasure for others to watch. It was, and always will be, a pleasure to dance.

I agree with Chris here, the narration doesn't work. as a dairy entry this wouldn't end like this it would end with the excitement of expectations of the next days not the knowledge of what happened.

As In

Day 1: Henry meets Mary and they live happily ever after.

Day 2: Henry meets Susan and carries on an affair lasting six months

As a diary entry you don't know what tommorow will bring (with the usual caveats of course)

***​

Reading it through, some things I know aren't quite right. The sentences sound cluttered and bad, yet I don't really want to show this to the person who normally proof reads and helps me with things like this - he's the one 'featured' in the story. I also have comma and semicolon issues, so go nuts on correcting them.

Thanks.