Writing exercise: show us your style

[StillStunned]

Is anyone up for an exercise in exploring different styles?

Here's the idea. Below is the outline of a story. Anyone who wants can write their own opening paragraphs (say max. 250-ish words). Decide for yourself where you want your version to begin, whose point of view you want to follow. Whether you want to write in 1P or 3P (or even 2P, if you're feeling particularly bold). Present tense or past tense, it's up to you. Whether it would be plot-heavy or just a stroker. That kind of stuff.

So the story outline:
Husband and wife Jack and Jill are out for a walk in the countryside. They crest a rise, and see a stream below them. There's a tent, and a naked couple emerge from the tent and have sex in the stream. Jack and Jill can't keep their hands off each other as they watch.

Remember: to keep it short, let's confine ourselves to the story's opening (again: max. 250-ish words), although where you want to begin is up to you.

If you want, add a note about why you made particular choices.

Also, let's try and keep it respectful. Feedback and criticism are welcome, but don't be nasty about it. If you think you can do better, show us!

(Tip: try not to read anyone else's version before you write your own.)

 

[StillStunned]

Here's my attempt:

***

The best thing about hiking, Jack thought, was watching his wife’s arse. Jill had the most delicious round arse, and he’d use any excuse to let her walk in front of him.

She knew it, of course, and today she was wearing a pair of shorts that barely reached below her cheeks. Right now, climbing a steep slope, an inch of arse had escaped, as if inviting him to reach out and grope.

“I hear water.” Jill stopped suddenly and turned. Her face was flushed from the heat and exertion. “There must be a stream on the other side of this hill.”

Jack paused and listened. She was right. Over the sound of their panting breath he definitely heard running water.

A drop of sweat ran down Jill’s thigh. He reached out and caught it with his finger. “We could take a break. Have a swim.” He grinned suggestively, and she grinned back.

“Come on then.” There was a definite bounce in her step as she started climbing again. Setting off after her, Jack felt a twitch in his cock in anticipation. I won’t even let her get into the water first, he thought to himself. I’m going to lick every inch of her body. Feel the sweat on her skin. Run my tongue down her crack to between her legs…

Lost in these thoughts, he only noticed that Jill had stopped when his face collided with her arse. He glanced up to see her peering over the top of the rise.

“No sexy swim.” There was disappointment in her voice. “Someone’s set up camp down there.”

***

Perhaps not the sophisticated, but it's fairly typical of how I write. A simple set-up, but some visuals and internal monologue to give the scene and the characters a little depth. Mostly short sentences and simple wording, because I don't want the reader to have to struggle through my prose. Each sentence should move the reader's attention forward smoothly.

I'd love to see how everyone else approaches this story!

 

[nice90sguy]

Jack’s heart beat quickly, as he and his wife approached the summit of Cley Tor. It wasn’t just due to the effort of the steep climb. It wasn’t even caused by the mystic forces below him, the ley lines which met at its summit, buzzing like underground electric cables. It was something else: A sense of imminent catastrophe, and the cause of it was obvious: Nominative determinism. If Jack had been stupid enough to marry a woman called Jill, disaster would inevitably befall each of them sooner or later; first him, and then her, in alphabetical order.

Jill, ten years younger than him, and twice as many kilos lighter, reached the summit first. She turned to look at him as he climbed the last few yards, and called out, “careful, honey, the last bit’s slightly slippery.” Jack stooped, and used his hands on the bare rock to steady himself.

“You don’t need to crawl,” she laughed.

“Better safe than sorry”, Jack thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Jill would only mock him further if he told her why he was being so cautious.

He joined Jill at the summit and sat down next to her, relieved: The prophesy had been averted – for today. She passed him the water bottle and unwrapped the cheese and ham sandwiches which she’d made.

(authors’ note, this is chapter one of a longer story. If you like what you’ve read so far, be sure to vote, and I’ll post the next part, where Jack and Jill discuss causality, the multiverse and see a tent)

 

[mildlyaroused]

Nice idea. I like the two passages before mine!

***

They are nearing the crest of the hill. Jack walks some metres ahead, and Jill some metres behind, and together their laboured footsteps work up a loud marching beat on the gravel bath. Crunch. Crunch. There is no wind and no wildlife to speak of. Only the sound of gravel underfoot.

This creates the illusion that there are more and more sets of footsteps joining in behind them. To Jill's mind comes the image of a great and silent procession following her and her husband up the hill. There are half a dozen curious house cats prancing along at their heels. And behind the cats is a dog, sniffing at the shrubs which grow through the gravel. And behind the dog there is a trail of very determined ants in single file.

Jill likes this image. She puts it in the corner of her mind for a future painting.

Jack is working up a sweat ahead of her. His shirt is plastered to his back by sweat. Every few feet, he stops there on the track, hands resting on his knees, breathing deep. He’s out of water. Jill can see that from where she stands: his bottle is attached to his belt by a carabiner, and it’s quite empty.

This brings her some sense of vindication. She doesn’t offer him any water of her own. His words from the previous night still sting.

So they march on, up to the top of the hill: Jill with her full bottle, and Jack with his empty bottle. Knots of dry trees flank the gravel path, their branches tangled as though they are embracing one another. Every step heightens Jill’s fatigue.

***

It's slightly strange. I wrote what came to mind, and I quite like the language I used. Also some early-days character stuff.

I'm sad I ran out of words before reaching the naked couple, though! I had this sentence planned which I liked:

"Jill hardly notices. She is arrested, there on top of the hill, not by the question of how the couple lugged so much gear to this secluded spot, but by their complete and open nakedness."

 

[StillStunned]

Nominative determinism. If Jack had been stupid enough to marry a woman called Jill, disaster would inevitably befall each of them sooner or later; first him, and then her, in alphabetical order.

I laughed when I realised where you were going. I wonder, if you wrote more of your story, whether Jack and Jill might still fall down the hill, but on the other side. Both of them with their trousers round their ankles, under the surprised gaze of the other couple.

I'm sad I ran out of words before reaching the naked couple, though!

I had the same thing. I want to go and write more of the story now.

I like that we've all done three very different things so far, although I'm wondering if someone will start their story at the top of the hill so we get to see the campers.

 

[TheLobster]

250 words is not a whole lot to work with but here it goes:

***

As he was climbing uphill under the beating summer sun, Jack was really glad he took that light linen hat. Or these cool shades that Jill always said looked so good on his rugged face. Or even that he'd applied some SPF 50, unmanly though it was, because the last thing he wanted was to spend the evening rubbing some aloe onto his sunburned skin.

What he had mixed feelings about was the weight of some three gallons of water that he was hauling in his backpack.

"Come on, Jack! There is a stream down there!"

His wife Jill was already at the crest of the grassy knoll, skipping about and waving at him happily.

Oh, how he loved this woman! Not too short, not too tall; a perfect and sexy package of feisty, vivacious femininity. They had married right after college, just a little over three years ago, and they were still very much a young couple that saw little of the world besides each other. Even here, surrounded by the finest vistas that the Pinnacles National Park could offer, Jack wouldn't hesitate to say that his wife was the most beautiful sight of all.

"Now that's what I like to see," he said, giving her a peck on the lips. "Somewhere to cool down and have a bite."

"And meet some new friends, it seems," said Jill, pointing at a pitched tent about a hundred feet down and ahead. "Wanna go ahead and greet them?"

"Sure."

***

...aaaand that's about where the naked couple would appear

I think this is pretty typical of my style: bits and pieces of exposition and characterization, interspersed with some light action (walking!) and dialogue. As the story goes on, you'd see less and less of the former and more of the latter.

 

[nice90sguy]

To interject: I actually have three very distinct styles, which I adopt depending on the story:

1. Naturalistic, mid 20th century novel
2. Zany, subversive, playful, self-conscious ( Lewis Carrol, Simpsons, Zucker Brothers)
3. Filmic (Noir, much newer SF)

 

[Bamagan]

"Explain to me again why we're going to the top of the hill to fetch water," Jill said peevishly, bumping the empty tin pail against her hip. "There's a perfectly good spring and stream at the bottom on the other side. We could easily go around."
"Because the well at the top isn't enchanted," Jack explained, wearing his own pail as a helmet, concealing his lustful admiration Jill’s flexing ass.
Jill scoffed and said derisively, "Surely you don't believe that old fairy tale!"
Reaching the summit, Jack peered down at the stream and the naked couple cavorting and splashing in the deep pool from whence it sprung. “If you want to believe, keep watching,” he replied, pointing to the pair of copulating lovers.
“This feels wrong,” Jill said, frowning at the scene, but her thighs rubbed together.
“Well, it ain’t gonna get more right,” Jack said, chuckling quietly and undoing his trousers to free his stiff member.
“You shouldn’t be doing that!” Jill hissed, reaching out to grasp her husband’s cock. “We should get our water and leave!” After a few moments of futile effort at putting his dick away, however, she surrendered to the moment and started stroking it.
Jack tilted his head back with pleasure, causing the pail to slip off and clatter alarmingly. He startled and lost his footing, falling down and bending his penis painfully against the ground, and the agony on his crown only increased when Jill tumbled down on top of him.

 

[StillStunned]

I'm beginning to think that I should perhaps have chosen different names for two characters hiking up a hill.

 

[onehitwanda]

naked couple emerge from the tent and have sex in the stream.

do you have any fucking idea how cold running water is?

 

[ElectricBlue]

I'm going to cheat, because Jack and Jill don't interest me. This is a vignette from within a 750 word exercise years ago. It features @SimonDoom's fictional sister Suzie, but that's not who the story is about.

"She was a tall girl. In heels, nearly as tall as me. Usually she wore a black skirt with a crisp white blouse, because the PAs took turns on the front desk, front of house. But Fridays she was rostered off, so she often wore tight jeans and a casual top, and let her hair down.

"Such beautiful hair: a long mane of golden blonde hair, down to her waist. I just wanted to -"

"Wrap it around your cock?" suggested Suzie, tugging her knickers off and tossing them to the floor.

"Something like that," replied Adam.

"Fridays. What happened on Fridays?" urged Suzie.

"She'd come into my office, just after two. She'd lean up against the column, or sit on the window sill in front of my desk. From outside, nobody would know she was there, unless they came to my office door.

"She'd push back against the column and watch my eyes move up her body to her face. She was only twenty-two, still learning about her men. After a while, she'd rest her hand on her belly, to show me the slight roundness there. And of course, to remind me where the buckle of her belt was, and the delta of Venus below."

"Did she know what she was doing?" asked Suzie, her fingers gliding between her pussy lips.

"Oh yes, she knew," Adam replied.

"Did you ever kiss her?" the girl asked, ever so slightly jealous if he had.

"Once. In a bus-shelter, one lunchtime when it rained. Her legs were long, but her kiss was longer."

"Was she beautiful?" asked Suzie, knowing perfectly well that she was.

"Oh yes," Adam replied.

"Were you intimate?" Suzie sighed.

"Once, when I was waiting for an interview. She brushed an imaginary piece of lint from my collar. Better than sex, in that moment. She wanted me to look my best. The look in her eyes!"

"Good god, " said Suzie. "Do you always worship the memory of your women this way?"

"Do you know," replied Adam, "I think I do."

 

[mildlyaroused]

I'm beginning to think that I should perhaps have chosen different names for two characters hiking up a hill.

You’ve birthed a new Lit category: Fatalistic Comedies!

 

[StillStunned]

do you have any fucking idea how cold running water is?

Yes. Perhaps there's a sandbank. Or maybe they're wearing waders. (I'm reminded of Dara O'Briain's bit about "this is where the sexy lives".)

 

[Bamagan]

do you have any fucking idea how cold running water is?

British bias there. In sunnier climes, shallow streams can be quite tepid, even uncomfortably warm sometimes.

 

[TheLobster]

I'm beginning to think that I should perhaps have chosen different names for two characters hiking up a hill.

When it doubt, you can always fall back to Alice and Bob.

 

[Bamagan]

I'm beginning to think that I should perhaps have chosen different names for two characters hiking up a hill.

In retrospect, I wish I'd specified that their married surname is Orff. Jill was née DeBean.

 

[MajorRewrite]

The ground beneath us collapsed and we tumbled down the hill.

“Fuck,” I groaned when I came to a stop.

Dad rushed to my wife and offered her a hand. “Are you okay, Jill?” he asked with concern.

She took his hand and stood. “I’m fine,” she replied, “just embarrassed.” She blushed as her eyes involuntarily scanned up and down Dad’s naked body.

Mom knelt by my side, equally as naked as Dad. “Were you spying on us, Jack?” she asked in a voice that was both surprised and amused.

“Um, yeah,” I admitted. “Sorry.”

“You’re terrible,” she complained with a chuckle. My eyes went to the movement of her big tits. She noticed and rolled her eyes. “Your parents did an awful job raising you, young man,” she playfully stated.

 

[onehitwanda]

British bias there. In sunnier climes, shallow streams can be quite tepid, even uncomfortably warm sometimes.

and full of all sorts of interesting parasitic biota.

 

[Bamagan]

and full of all sorts of interesting parasitic biota.

Sure, but those are everywhere around here, not just streams.
While we're on the topic, which would people rather meet after tumbling down a hill into a stream: A naked man, or 100 leeches?

Don't anyone answer that, though, I beseech you. Stay on the rails!

 

[KeithD]

“Come on, you don’t want to see this.”

“Wait. Aren’t they gorgeous?”

“You’re the one who’s gorgeous. You’re the one I huffed over that last hill to frolic with in that stream. Let’s go. I know where there’s another place.”

“Wait. Have you ever seen such beautiful bodies?”

Jill and Jack had gotten to the top of the hill and were about to descend to the stream when they saw a tent was pitched there. As they watched, two figures, both naked, a contrast of Nordic white and deepest-darkest African black, but each magnificent in body, exited the tent. They had their arms around each other and their hands busy in mutual arousal.

As Jill watched and Jack tugged, the two men sank under the surface of the stream and then rose, together, as in a group synchronized swimming performance, and embraced. They came up facing each other in a close tableau. The smaller, white guy climbed the hips of the hulky black guy and, with a long sigh, settled in the black guy’s lap. Once penetrated, he leaned back, with the crouching black guy gripping his lower back, and the two, becoming one, moved into the slow dance of the fuck, sending ripples of water flowing away from them in all directions.

“Oh, my, isn’t that just beautiful?” Jill asked, gently stroking Jack’s forearm, his arm enveloping her from behind. She felt the need of him.

“Yes it is, I’ll have to admit,” Jack murmured. “Yes, they are.”

 

[onehitwanda]

Sure, but those are everywhere around here, not just streams.
While we're on the topic, which would people rather meet after tumbling down a hill into a stream: A naked man, or 100 leeches?

Don't anyone answer that, though, I beseech you. Stay on the rails!

Quack Doctor: "Having now thoroughly considered your symptoms, I can now feel quite confident in recommending a course of..."
Lord Blackadder: "Leeches."

 

[StillStunned]

(I want to quote that whole episode, but we're mostly doing a pretty good job of keeping this thread on its rails.)

 

[AlinaX]

do you have any fucking idea how cold running water is?

lol - That was my immediate thought.

 

[Bazzle]

This is awful, then so is most Bazzle writing.

"Jack, it’s no good, I need to stop for a rest." Jill panted. Her face red from the effort of walking up the hill.

"You can have a drink and ciggie break at the top." Jack laughed, they had been married for ten years, he got a sort of enjoyment the punishing his wife for her bad habit. Walking straight up a hill was one of the best ways.

She stuck her tongue out at him and huffed. Flapped her t-shirt to generate airflow then started huffing as she continued climbing up the narrow dusty path to the summit.

Getting comfortable on the mossy spongey grass on top of the hill, they could see for miles in every direction.

Jill sat there and guzzled what was nearly a pail of water. Then ignoring Jack as he drank was little was left, she lit up her much-needed cigarette. It was then that a sound that caught their attention.

Down below them, there was a shriek that echoed around the open valley. Jack and Jill peered over the crest of the hill. Next to the gently splashing stream was a green tent. Practically camouflaged to the long grass around it.

Like meercats their necks stretched to watch was going on.

Watching on with anticipation the zip of the tent slid up, there was more shrieking followed by a masculine grunting shush. Jack and Jill looked at each other and then back to the valley below.

A tall muscular dark-haired man, his skin the colour of brown paper, carried his very naked female partner out of the tent. Her long red hair swung down. With a loud giggling squeal, he lowered her into the river.

Jack and Jill watched on intently as the “show” began. With her legs in the water and her waist against the bank he penetrated her from behind. Her large breast swinging side to side.

It was not long before the cigarette was forgotten, and Jack and Jill were kissing each other. There was one small problem, as Jack climbed on top of Jill, his weight caught her. They soon tumbled down the hill.

In their entangled embrace they looked to the side, and grinned at the red haired beauty.

 

[MajorRewrite]

Tumbling down a hill is a must for any Jack and Jill story.