listen: fight club and pulp fiction are good movies, i love them both personally, but if a guy (and you KNOW the type of guy i mean) says they are his Favorite Movies then u need to run. RUN. plan ur exist exit strategy now. if ur texting him then just make something up. “haha i gotta go now. it was nice talking to you. bye!” if you’re somewhere with him just leave. do parkour if you have to. run like the wind. get away from that man
“Do you have
any advice on writing fight scenes? The type of scene I’m writing is mostly
hand to hand combat between two experts. I’m definitely not an expert so when I
try to write it, the scene ends up sounding repetitive and dull.”
Fore note: This post is coauthored by myself and one of my amazing critique partners, Barik S. Smith, who both writes fantastic fight scenes and teaches mixed martial arts, various artistic martial arts, and weapons classes.
I (Bryn) will tell you a secret: I trained MMA for
seven years, and when I write authentic hand to hand fight scenes, they sound
The problem with fight scenes in books is that
trying to describe each punch and kick and movement (especially if it’s the
only thing you’re describing) creates a fight that feels like it’s in slow
center of gravity, she held her right hand tight to her face and threw a jab
towards his chin. He shifted his weight, ducking under her punch. His hair
brushed against her fist, and he stepped forward, launching a shovel hook into
her exposed side.
But your brain can only read for fast. In real
life that series of events would take an instant, but I needed a full eight
seconds to read and comprehend it, which gave it an inherent lethargic feel.
So, we have two primary problems:
How do we describe this fight in a way the reader can understand
and keep track of?
How do we maintain a fast paced, interesting fight once we’ve
broken down the fight far enough for readers to understand it?
(We will get back to these, I promise.) But
for now, let’s look at…
In a series of experiments, the researchers showed over 950 online black and nonblack U.S. participants a series of color photographs of the faces of white and black men who were of equal height and weight.
Participants then had to guess the height, weight and muscularity of the pictured subjects. Researchers found that the estimates were consistently biased.
All participants saw black men as larger, stronger and more muscular than white men, even though they were the same.
However, nonblack participants perceived black men to be more capable of causing harm in a fictional fight scenario, and, even more disquieting, that police would be more justified in using force to subdue the black men — even if they were unarmed.
That black men cannot even be perceived as who they actually are is a factor, according to researchers, in America’s police brutality epidemic. Read more (3/13/17 12:16 PM)
Yuri: Don’t you hate that? Otabek: What? Yuri: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable? Otabek: I don’t know. That’s a good question. Yuri: That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special, when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.
There was a soft hum in her room, it was there all the time so it didn’t bother her too much. To go with it, there was also the calming sounds of birds soaring by the window every so often or the branches of the trees colliding with each other. That was pretty much the only sounds she could hear.
It was cold night, so cold she had three blankets hugging her and she could still feel an unusual breeze coming from an unknown location. Her legs tangled together in hopes of seeking warmth from each other but they were both cold, meaning chills ran through each of them whenever she’d rub them together.
She felt the familiar emptiness in her heart; it hadn’t stopped bugging her, almost begging to her to do something about it. She just didn’t know what it was that she had to do to stop the aching.
Her window was locked; she didn’t want to risk even the slightest segment of ice cold air getting through and into her bedroom, and she didn’t want to be any more colder than she already was.
With loneliness and worry, she was struggling to sleep as she did every night. Her insomnia was only worsening each night, even though during the day she found herself wishing to do nothing but sleep; her body was begging her for rest all day while the second her head touch the softness of her pillows at night, something was forcing her awake.
Migraines came inside the package with her insomnia and she found herself thinking she could do without them. Fatigue was hard enough to deal with when her days were so busy, so when she felt her head feeling weighed down as soon as she sat up, she didn’t think the rest of the day was physically possible for her.
Despite her mental complains however - and with some strength unknown to her - she managed each day without collapsing and even though she rarely slept anymore, she was more than thankful for the comfort of her bed at the end of each day.
It was all Jason’s fault. As much as she tried to find something else to blame, her mind always found its way back to him. Jason was the reason she was suddenly so alone, he was the reason she wasn’t able to sleep; he wasn’t around for her to be angry at and that made her frustration rise even higher.
She sighed and, for the hundredth time, rolled over onto her back. Her eyes were alive, just like her body was. When she realised she wasn’t going to sleep, her mind decided to join them.
If he hadn’t have got himself caught, if he was just a little bit more careful, he’d be here.
There was a loud thud downstairs and it sent all of the air she had in her body elsewhere; it abandoned her completely and she felt herself at a loss. As though something had set deep into the pit in her stomach, all of the muscles in her body stood to attention, although she was in no way to do anything useful with them.
More noise followed and it caused her to sit up rapidly. She didn’t have to place her hand to her chest to know that her heart was stammering heavily. Panicked, her throat tightened and she, as quietly as she could, she dropped her feet onto the floor. The wood felt so cold it caused a burning sensation on the bottom of her feet. She attempted to ignore it while tiptoeing towards the bedroom door that sat closed firmly.
Out in the hallway, the house looked even more daunting and she instantly wished she hadn’t moved from her bed. She contemplated turning around and making a beeline straight to it as it sat there calling her name. However, she didn’t have time; she heard the flick of a switch before she watched the entrance of the living room being illuminated. She gasped rather loudly.
She didn’t move. For once, for the first time in so long, it wasn’t because she was scared or panicked or too tired. It took her back to all of those months and sent her body into some kind of trance.
Letting out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, she could feel her legs working frantically in order to carry her down the steps of the stairs. She didn’t care how cold the floor was anymore.
“Jason?” she whispered; her brain wasn’t really believing it because, of course, how could he be anywhere near her? It was impossible.
Turning the corner into the kitchen, her brain was contradicted. She began to cry almost instantly while her legs threatened to give in under her weight; she didn’t feel strong enough to do anything in that moment. Jason was stood in front of her, he looked untidy and tired, but she didn’t care - he was there.
She didn’t have time to say anything else because he had collided with her. His hands were pressing her against his chest and she couldn’t help but have missed how his hard chest felt against her. He was warm and safe, and for the first time in months, she felt like she was home.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered with a shaky breath; it felt like someone was gliding a feather across the dint in her neck. She inhaled and delved in his scent. “I was starting to go insane, and considering I’m already half way there, it was getting dangerous.”
“How are you here? Did they let you go? Jason, what’s happening?”
She had so much she needed to be released from her heart that every second felt like the perfect time to ask him, she had to remind herself that he was probably just relieved to be home. Taking a deep breath, she told herself to keep calm.
His hands ran up and down her sides with so much hunger and she had to resist the urge to let her hands move freely. To distract them, she moved them up to his hair; it felt like a jungle between her fingers.
“I have to go away, babygirl,” he said breathlessly. She could hear the regret; it was evident in the tightness of his tone. “I escaped, there’s no way they were letting me out of there any time soon. Come with me.”
She frowned. “W-wha-where are you going?”
“I know some people. They’re gonna get me out of here.”
He sounded breathless and everything felt as though it was happening so fast, she was struggling to comprehend. Her fingers grip the orange jumpsuit in desperation.
“Where are you going?”
“Just away. I can’t stay here, you know that,” he said, draping his arm around her waist. “C’mon princess, get your things.”
In a split second, his touch was no longer with her. [Y/N] watched as Justin made his way around the room, gathering anything he might need. Her feet felt glued to the floor.
“J-Jason..” she whispered, but he didn’t hear; he was already flying up the stairs when she let out a large breath of air.
It only took him five minutes to be back downstairs in a black t-shirt and jeans, a style that [Y/N] would have taken the time to compliment him in if the situation was different. He held a backpack in his hand and dropped it to the floor, that was when he clocked [Y/N]’s statue still stood where he’d left it. She watched his face twist in a horrible way as he gained on her.
“[Y/N]? What are you doing? Do you not realise that if we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, the cops have probably already noticed I’ve escaped, and will be round here as quick as they can be, either to look for me or question you. Now move.”
His stare was too intense that it felt as though he was physically making her move. She made sure to be out of his sight before she let the tears fall down her cheeks. With shaking limbs, she walked up the stairs, feeling weight crushing down on her chest.
She didn’t want to have to pack as quick as she could, she didn’t want to leave, she just wanted answers. Confused and hurting, she grabbed her own backpack and shoved necessities into it. Teardrops fell onto her hand and roll down to her wrist.
“[Y/N]! Come on!”
Was he being selfish? Did he know he was hurting her? Where were they going? All sorts of questions processed through her mind as she jogged down the stairs, wiping her cheeks on her sleeve.
Jason held out his hand for her to take and, in need of some warmth and reassurance, [Y/N] took it instantly. As it turns out, Jason’s hands were cold and felt like ice against her skin.
“You okay?” he asked and a wave of relief washed over [Y/N].
“Fuck, they’re here. Come on, we have to go.” He pulled her towards the door, she didn’t even have the chance to take on last glance at the place she called home.
Jason’s grip tightened on her hand and she could’ve cried at such a tiny expression of affection. Pulled up in front of her house was an usually large black van. She couldn’t help but wonder if their plan was to look suspicious.
“Get in the back,” one man said out of the window of the van. His beard twitched as he spoke.
Jason didn’t say anything as he yanked the door doors apart, allowing her to climb in before him as though it made up for everything. She still wasn’t sure if she should be feeling so much anger. [Y/N] climbed inside and saw nothing but a bunch of blankets in the corner. The back of the van wasn’t big enough for her to stand straight so instead of letting her back ache, she dropped herself down onto the pile of soft blankets.
The door was still being slammed shut by Jason as the van pulled away and was hurtling down the street. Jason sat down in the other corner, sighing as he did so.
“You’re gonna be in there for a while so we gave you some things to make the journey a little more comfortable,” a muffled voice said through the wood panel blocking the front interior of the van. Jason, nor [Y/N], replied.
[Y/N] could hear the life outside of the vehicle; the birds whenever they stopped at a red light, the wind that stroked the black exterior, car horns, shouting. It all made tears sting her eyes, although she couldn’t understand why. Jason’s head snapped in her direction when she sniffed.
“[Y/N]?” he asked while shuffling towards her. “Baby?”
She covered her face when the sobs broke out from her throat. Feeling Jason gripping at her wrists, she dug her fingers into her face in hopes he wouldn’t succeed in pulling them away.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He was pulling her onto his lap as he spoke, he wrapped his arms around her body. “Tell me what’s wrong baby, please.”
The anger was bubbling in her stomach and rising up her chest, along with an uneasy feeling that made her feel as though if she parted her lips in the slightest, she’d throw up her empty stomach. A rush cut through her veins.
“How can you ask that?”
His expression was a mixture of confusion and shock, but [Y/N] didn’t care in that moment. She didn’t bother to attempt to be released from his grasp; she didn’t think she had the strength.
“You’ve let me worry and lose sleep over you for months, I haven’t been eating, I can’t close my eyes without picturing you behind that glass, and all I’ve done is cry; you burst into my house in the middle of the night, claiming you’ve got to leave that second without giving me anything but a mediocre explanation and just expect me to run alongside you without even asking me how I feel.”
Jason didn’t move for a few seconds; his eyebrows didn’t stop furrowing and his mouth refused to close. He looked lost for words, it was an unfamiliar sight for [Y/N]. Meanwhile, she felt some sense of relief. They both slowly sank into the silence and it filled them. But eventually, someone had to say something.
“[Y/N], baby, I had no idea you felt like that-“
“You wouldn’t,” she said. “You didn’t take the time to think about how I felt or if I even wanted to get in this van, you just-“
“Wait,” he interrupted. “Are you saying you didn’t want to leave with me? [Y/N], they’d interrogate you before you could say a single thing, it wouldn’t have been good for you there.” Jason looked hopeless as she shuffled into her previous spot.
“And whose fault is that?” she muttered, and tried not to notice the shock flash across Jason’s face.
“Baby, look.” He moved closer to her. “I’m so, so sorry for not thinking to ask you how you feel. I know, I know I should’ve. This is hard for me but I know it’s taking a toll on you too. I’m sorry.” Jason clutched [Y/N]’s hand tightly.
A sigh escaped her lips and fell into the air around them. “I’m scared, Jason.” The weaker side of her, the side that called out to Jason to comfort her in moments like these, gave into his touch. Her body fell into his. “I just wish none of this had happened.”
“You don’t have to be,” he rasped against her neck, making goosebumps come alive. “I’m here to keep you safe. I can keep you safe, I can be here for you, but I can’t promise that things like this aren’t going to happen. This is the life I live, I can’t help that but you know that I love you so, so, so much and I don’t wanna lose you.” While he was speaking, his thumb was busy stroking the back of her hand.
“I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to being your girlfriend, I’m not leaving,” she smiled through the wetness of her cheeks and snuggled deeper into Jason’s hard chest that was warm and inviting underneath the blanket.
He hummed. “You’re an angel, you know that?”
“You might have told me that before,” [Y/N] chuckled, but it was partially blocked out by the sudden growl of the van’s engine.
The journey lasted another two hours or so, at least that was what her phone told her once she’d been escorted into a small and shabby two story house in the middle of nowhere. It gave her a sense of longing for the home that she’d abandoned only hours ago. [Y/N] wondered how Jason was feeling.
“Lay low here for as long as you can. See anything suspicious, you should leave this place within at least five minutes. You should be fine here as long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“Aw shit, that’s exactly what I planned on doing,” Jason muttered, throwing his jacket down on the chair. [Y/N] set herself down on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest.
The two men left and drove away in their van eventually, meaning Jason and [Y/N] were left alone. It was silent for far too long, so long that she could feel her eyes falling shut, but she jumped into complete consciousness when she heard movement from Jason.
She watched as he sat down next to her and moved impossibly close so that his warmth wrapped around her. His head fell into the nape of her neck and she didn’t hesitate to run her fingers across the back of his neck before brushing them through his hair. Jason seemed to enjoy the sensation because the softest of moans left his lips. It was then that she thought maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was the silence, or maybe it was because Jason’s tongue was circling the skin on her neck while his hand grazed her thigh.