6 December 2004
Ssh!
Why did she do that? Who did that to her? What's going to happen next?
That's what makes you turn the pages. Those are the questions, echoing in my head, that make me turn the pages.
There is a new Labyrinth creative writing competition. [This competition closed in early 2005.] The title you have to write to is At Last. You have 2000 words maximum.
My husband Greg taught a class last week about Suspense. At Last is a good title for a suspense story. Then again, maybe that's too obvious. Maybe it should be a story in which - At Last - things stop happening.
Suspense is fascinating because it works both ways. The author makes you think something is going to happen and nothing does – then nothing does for a little longer and you are on the edge of your seat waiting.
Then, whoosh, it happens.
Or the author tells you nothing bad is going to happen, everything's fine, we're all happy, and you begin to relax into your armchair when - whoosh - screaming and shouting ...
Greg asked his students to come up with some suspense stories as a follow up to the class. One of the participants, Adrian Davis, produced this effortless Christmas suspense story in fewer than 300 words:
She opened the door quietly and looked around. The room was in darkness and she had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the gloom.
She heard something move on the far side near the chimney. She held her breath listening, trying to make out what had moved. Nothing, so gingerly and ever so slowly she moved further into the room, ears straining, her breathing kept to a minimum.
Another movement, a rustle, was it a mouse? A rat? Oh God she prayed inwardly, please don't let it be a rat. I hate rats. Stephen brought a live one to school; it was horrible. We all screamed, but Stephen and his mates just laughed.
She had to get a grip on herself. She took a deep breath and held it for as long as she could. She unclenched her fists, and brushed her hand across her forehead. It came away wet.
Don't be stupid she said to herself, there's bound to be a sensible reason why the light's off. Another rustle! Louder this time, and nearer!
She felt like screaming, but her mouth had gone dry.
Scrambling, the sound was nearer and louder but she was frozen to the spot. What was it? Tears were running down her cheeks and her nose was running too.A deep voice sounded from the chimney, 'What are doing up?'
'I couldn't sleep,' she blurted out, 'I thought I heard something.'
'Well it is Christmas Eve, you probably heard Santa.'
'Oh daddy, do you still believe in Santa Claus?'
'Don't you?'
What next in the Labyrinth.
