YmaOHyd
Wife Guy
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2025
- Posts
- 965
I mean look you can do both. Some would prefer it!
Writing Exercise: Hamming! It! Up!
- Thread starter StillStunned
- Start date
ColtonWrites
Secret Romantic
- Joined
- Nov 4, 2025
- Posts
- 286
Im reminding myself to come back here and share some of the bits I will likely cut from my current WIP before publication. Hundreds of words describing fancy food and its preparation.
TheRedLantern
sijo enthusiast
- Joined
- May 10, 2025
- Posts
- 653
This is something I wrote this morning that I'm experimenting with. It's the middle of a longer scene (Edit: I'm testing this character out, so if you'd like to see the full scene DM me and I'll share it, it's 1200 words and I'm interested in how people react to the character concept):
She stood, sticks held casually in her right hand. Her voice was raspy and rough, much deeper than her slender feminine build would suggest, and her English comes out in short bursts. There was an icy calm sharpness to her accent that could only come from Seoul. “Which one of you is Jennifer Lee?”
The room was silent.
“Someone named Jennifer Lee ordered ampeom?” The girl asked, in accented English. She shook the sticks with preternatural calm to emphasize that she was talking about them, drawing everyone’s attention to the short wooden poles.
But Jennifer Lee knew Korean, and knew that the word ampeom had nothing to do with sticks.
In a flash too quick to see, the girl swung her arms, one stick now in each hand. She smashed one rattan club down on the leader’s gun, splintering both stick and the gun to pieces with a loud snap. The other caught the leader’s jaw and he hit the ground like a bag of garbage landing in a dumpster.
“Ampeom,” in Korean, means “Tigress.”
The guy with the baseball bat had the quickest reaction and had just brought his bat up defensively when her foot flashed through the space between them and slammed into it, sending it cracking against his forehead. He sank to his knees, unsteady, and then slumped over.
She moved like her namesake around the last two, circling and never off balance. When the black guy plunged his knife towards her like a snake, it was all she could do to impale it into her remaining rattan stick, splitting it open. Still she held tight with both hands. Then with a twist of her arms and a grunt, both stick and blade escaped their clutches and clattered against a stone wall.
Yet still the man came, his hands grasping for her throat, the ferocity and power of his onslaught forced her back.
She stood, sticks held casually in her right hand. Her voice was raspy and rough, much deeper than her slender feminine build would suggest, and her English comes out in short bursts. There was an icy calm sharpness to her accent that could only come from Seoul. “Which one of you is Jennifer Lee?”
The room was silent.
“Someone named Jennifer Lee ordered ampeom?” The girl asked, in accented English. She shook the sticks with preternatural calm to emphasize that she was talking about them, drawing everyone’s attention to the short wooden poles.
But Jennifer Lee knew Korean, and knew that the word ampeom had nothing to do with sticks.
In a flash too quick to see, the girl swung her arms, one stick now in each hand. She smashed one rattan club down on the leader’s gun, splintering both stick and the gun to pieces with a loud snap. The other caught the leader’s jaw and he hit the ground like a bag of garbage landing in a dumpster.
“Ampeom,” in Korean, means “Tigress.”
The guy with the baseball bat had the quickest reaction and had just brought his bat up defensively when her foot flashed through the space between them and slammed into it, sending it cracking against his forehead. He sank to his knees, unsteady, and then slumped over.
She moved like her namesake around the last two, circling and never off balance. When the black guy plunged his knife towards her like a snake, it was all she could do to impale it into her remaining rattan stick, splitting it open. Still she held tight with both hands. Then with a twist of her arms and a grunt, both stick and blade escaped their clutches and clattered against a stone wall.
Yet still the man came, his hands grasping for her throat, the ferocity and power of his onslaught forced her back.
Last edited:
