Story Writing Should be Fun

This writing comes from a student (Oz) who approaches writing through play. I know this came to me typed, as a comment on Substack or YouTube, but I pasted this here ages ago and now can’t find it the original.

So I’ve no idea what I wrote back, and how Oz thought about this. But her/his writing gives us lot’s of clues.

Oz thought, how can I make it fun?

• I can set out to deceive my reader - make them think I am describing one kind of character, when in fact, I am describing someone quite different.

• I can have a surprise ending, where the true nature of the character is revealed.

• I can describe the ordinary in extraordinary terms, by over exaggerating.

• I can start every sentence with a different word.

• I can mess around with short sentences and the senses just because examiners have been pointlessly trained to expect it. So I’ll make it fun.

• I’ll also chuck in punctuation I don’t need, like colons and ellipsis, because those pesky examiners expect it. I’ll make that fun too.

• I can go all in on alliteration, to a ridiculous degree.

• I can go large on metaphor. Metaphor is the king and queen of creative writing.

• I can extend some sentences, making them as long and convoluted as possible, layering in subordinate clause upon phrase upon main clause, till I have constructed a river of words: a sentence build on rhythm, repetition, and the sheer joy of showing off just how much fun I’m having (because this, surely, will carry the reader swiftly onward, floating on the sheer energy and pleasure of it) - which will wash over their senses like cool ripples in a heat wave.

Yeah, you see what I did there.

This is an interesting strategy from the examiners.

Teenage writing is full of drama and tragic events. There are deaths aplenty and gothic settings. You have hormones and heightened emotions and, unless you are used to reading stories, these just seem to spill upon the page in ways that an adult will find lame.

It’s pretty depressing for an examiner, not just because of the subject matter, but because there is often no point to the story. So, when I saw this title, I was surprised. I mean, it’s hard not to go all in on tragedy and over exaggerated emotion with a title like that. It’s a recipe for really bad writing.

But a thoughtful student says no. A thoughtful student says I know making the ordinary seem dramatic is more fun, and more skilfull.

And a thoughtful, playful student says, I’m just going to have some fun and bring the reader along with me.

Apart from the distant traffic gently rumbling disinterestedly, the night was silent. Between each slap of raindrop on concrete was an overwhelming peace. Now and then she was distracted by a gargle from her famished stomach, but this soon passed when the feeling of empty loneliness returned.

At the beginning, Oz has defied our expectations. We are expecting trajedy, and heightened emotions. But instead the traffic is “gently rumbling”. The main character is female, but not in danger from a male predator. She is hungry, but not starving, as the “gargle” her stomach makes only “distracted” her - she’s not that hungry then.

The weather, like a cliche, is dismal, with raindrops slapping the concrete. But this unexpectedly creates a feeling of “overwhelming peace”.

She feels “empty loneliness”. Abandoned is just ordinary then, not some gothic castle on a cliff top, not a soldier trying to survive behind enemy lines, not an astronaut cut loose in space, not a tourist who has fallen off a cruise ship, unobserved … just the ordinary.

Cold air clashed against her colourless cheeks, unabated for there were no cars to break the brutal breeze. Barren, the car park that imprisoned her was bound by coils of barbed wire. As tall as charred trees, the first target for the fastest bolt of lightning, the fences stood, caging her in with the fleas, filth, and vermin.

Did you notice the first two sentences started with A and then B? Now this one starts with C.

Not just a new word, but a new letter, in alphabetical order. This was probably unconscious, but has happened because Oz is writing in the spirit of play.

Now Oz has fun with alliteration of Cs and Bs, and then mixes both together in “bound by coils of barbed wire”.

The final sentence stretches this a bit too far. Not at first though. “Tall” and “trees” and “target” are separated by other words, so the alliteration is less in your grill. It is also picked up by the consonance (the same as alliteration, but not at the beginning of the word) of the Ts in “fastest, lightning, stood”. This is subtle, and subtle is cool - it demonstrates control.

But then look at “first” and “fastest” - both words totally unnecessary to the meaning. They exist only to alliterate. And the alliteration continues with “for” and “fences” and “fleas” and “filth”. This is too much. Fleas and filth? What sort of setting is this? Where has this vermin come from? Are there rats? The fences haven’t been hit by lightning, but the association with “charred” probably means the fence is simply painted black. Then there is the “brutal breeze”, which feels like a ridiculous oxymoron, just there to give us more alliteration. This all feels pointlessly dramatic.

(It isn’t though - it is just preparing us for the twist at the end). This is our first big clue.

Shivering, sat still on the step, her shawl wrapped tightly around her now, she had abandoned the blood-warming activity of pacing: it made time feel never-ending. Instead, eyes-shut (except for when she needed to check that it was indeed just a wisp of wind rather than a rodent nibbling on her knee… or a vampire) she meditated. Thoughts were not welcome now: they would only worry her. Waiting for the inevitable - “it was inevitable, wasn’t it?” - she flattened the frequent rises of anticipation or doubt by bringing focus back to the murky vapour of her breath. Any time now.

Ok, now we seem to be moving unexpectedly into gothic tragedy. It feels like a student who started with one idea, but couldn’t sustain it. They’ve started to think like - in the examiner’s mind - a typical teenager.

The rodent nibbling on her knee, even a vampire? Please, give me a break. But no - Oz wants us to think this way. Oz is playing with us.

Look at the opening “Shivering, sat still on the step, her shawl”. Sibilance now. That’s fun. The “shawl” is a weird choice of clothing - it fits perfectly in a gothic setting, but we started in a car park. It feels as though Oz has just got carried away, and lost control of the story.

But then we are surprised. The gothic drama is dispelled, as the character decides to meditate, to react calmly. Her breath is a “murky vapour” instead of, as we might expect, the gothic setting of sinister fog descending. Oz is playing with our expectations again. The gothic has been introduced, but then shut out.

✅ If you want to write your own story called Abandoned - I’ll publish it and give you feedback. Just add it as a comment here, or as a message.

✅ Paid subscribers get the rest of this story and my commentary. It takes an unexpected twist into a love story. And then takes a final twist which I did not see coming.

✅ Paid subscribers get a grade 9 answer with my comments every week except the summer holidays, and access to the over 350+ already published. 🎓

✅ Substack thinks this is so good, that you can sample them free for a week. 👏