Fiori wrote: Fri Nov 29, 2024 10:32 pm
Breath in.
Breath out.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Breath in...
Marcy Valerio exhaled
[Switching to 'exhale' here where you've been using 'breathe out' before feels pointless and produces a bit of a disconnect between the beginning of this paragraph and the previous 'breathe in' 'breathe out' bit], tapping her foot on the floor as she quietly psyched herself up.
[She still wasn't used to feeling this anxious before a big performance.
]<-[This sentence unnecessarily explains the sentence that comes after it imo.] It wasn't that long ago that she could throw herself into just about anything with minimal prep, just give it her all without a shred of hesitation.
[But now she had to deal with these annoying little intrusive thoughts at the back of her head, questioning whether or not she still had it in her to go all out like she used to.
] <-[So this is an example of a sentence that has a lot of filler words imo. If I were to re-word the sentence to be more concise, it might look something like "But now the annoying little intrusive thoughts in her head made her question whether she still had it in her to go all out."]
She lifted up her slushie - several flavours mixed together to create a kaleidoscope of clashing colors - and took a quick slurp through a paper straw.
Stupid knee. Who would've thought one little ligament tear could become such a headache.
[Even now it continued to haunt her, long after she had recovered from her surgery.
] I don't think you need this sentence; I automatically infer these details as a reader.] One awkward misstep, and...
Pop. Back on the bench for another six months, maybe even a year.
A sigh escaped her lips. No, she wasn't going to linger on the past, or worry about the future. It was Saturday night
damnit, and not just ANY old Saturday night...
[I'd personally go for an em-dash instead of an ellipsis] It was the night before her 18th birthday, and she was determined to make it one worth remembering.
Besides, it helped that this wasn't going to be any ordinary performance. She wasn't in a gymnasium, a dance studio or even a football field. Marcy was in an arcade, facing down a
Dancerush Stardom scoreboard with a determined glint in her eyes.
[I'd put this information much earlier; as a reader, I think I'm left dangling a little too long as to the nature of Marcy's performance. Like, I'm a bit disoriented as to what's actually going on in this scene up until we hit this paragraph, and that's quite awhile to be disoriented!]
She took another defiant slurp of her rainbow slushie, before slamming it down on a nearby pinball machine. "Let's fuckin'
go"
[You've been omitting punctuation at the end of dialogue here and there; if that's intentional, I don't think it's doing much for you?]
[Feeling all fired up,
]<-[You don't need to tell us this; we already know] she stepped out onto an LED dance pad and slipped in an arcade token, looking down as dozens of tiny fluorescent lights lit up beneath her feet.
[She watched as
] <-[We already know she's looking!] every step created multi-colored ripples, unable to resist skipping on the spot a couple times to make the lights flash like fireworks. But she couldn't let herself get
too distracted by the fancy schmancy particle effects,
[Breaking this sentence in two by replacing the comma with a period adds a bit of punch and zing imo] not when she had a high score to set.
[Only question now was what song...
]<-[So. Removing ellipses. Incorporating emphatic punctuation. An example of how to do both here: "Only question: what song?"]
After flipping through several options, she settled on a song title that caught her attention:
Death by Glamour. It came with a graphic depicting an androgynous android, one she recognised from a game her sister played a couple years ago. Nothing she was too familiar with herself, but... What the hell. It'll do.
Her selection made, she cracked her knuckles as she waited for the game to load, drinking in the virtual cheers as she would any other performance. Before long she could see the vibrant beats approaching, in a manner reminiscent to what one would expect from other rhythm games like Guitar Hero. But whilst Marcy couldn't play a guitar for shit, she was one hell of a mean shuffler.
Alright, so this is an example of what I was trying to get at when I said to be careful about how you signpost chronology. "Before long" as a signpost fits decently well, but feels ever-so-slightly-off; it creates a bit of vague nebulous writertime (the time equivalent of writerspace) that you don't really need, and implies that more time passes than I think you intended. If I were to re-word: "Then the screen went dark, and the vibrant beats approached. They weren't much different from what you might see in other rhythm games, like Guitar Hero--but whilst Marcy couldn't play a guitar for shit, she was one hell of a mean shuffler."]
Right, Left, Left, Left, Left, Right, Down, Down... Oh, this is a great use of colored text. Love it.
She matched every move to near perfection...
[Me? suggesting trading an ellipsis for an em-dash? It's more likely than you think.] Near being the key word. Truth be told, she was playing with a lot more flourish than she really ought to if she was aiming for a high score.
[She couldn't help herself really, unable to resist adding a bit of pizzazz as she got lost in the moment. Shuffling to the beat of the music, speakers blaring jazzy chiptunes mixed in with the cacophonic ambience of a jam packed arcade. All whilst she was surrounded by thousands of vibrant lights, flashing in tune to her every movement...
[This is a spot where I'd be willing to sacrifice a bit of detail for some zip. Something like: "She couldn't help herself, really. The speakers were blaring, the arcade was rumbling, and, all around Marcy, thousands of lights flashed in tune with her every movement." I try to always ask myself if a detail does anything aside from fleshing out a scene; if not, and if it's not utterly necessary to setting the stage, it can probably be cut.] For many, the sensory overload would be a living hell. For Marcy, it was paradise.
It certainly helped that she happened to be accompanied by a very special audience that evening, one she was keen to impress...
[Probably my favorite ellipsis in this thread. It makes the switch to Finn's POV feel something like a baton pass, which is neat.]