I also posted this in the horror SYW, but maybe it belongs here.
I abuse this poor forum so much.
Ok, here's the thing.
I wanted to rewrite my manuscript in 1st person because I thought it would draw the reader in better. I have encountered an issue in that a lot of the previous writing sort of "switches views" in third person. So now I've had to insert my MC into scene she was never in and modify the writing and OH MY GAWD, IT'S AWFUL.
OBJECTIVES-
1. Look at, and compare this shit.
2. Tell me what to do, please. TELL ME WHAT TO DO, AW.
THIRD PERSON- (I feel ok about this.)
Liam hated suits. They never fit him right. They were made for differently shaped men. The cuffs sat mid-way up his forearm. He'd had a difficult time tucking the tails of the shirt into his pants. The pants themselves ended far above his ankles. The shirt and jacket were very, very wide. It puffed out in odd places, refusing to make contact with his rotting skin. He sighed. It could be worse, he reminded himself. He could be Julius. Julius had taken to safety-pinning his shirt in a fold to make it lay tightly over his bare ribs. Julius had many nicely made suits, however. Having been thin and wealthy during his flesh baring years, Julius had many suits tailored well enough that he could still wear them as a skeleton.
Liam sneered as Antony walked towards him. Antony was comparatively short and on the buff side. Everything fit Antony well. He had dark hair and one blue eye. Oddly enough the first thing to rot away from Antony's body had been his left eye. He had the top few buttons on his shirt undone so that the neck fell ragged upon his broad shoulders. Sloppy, was Liam's first thought. Antony's beard was always grown out to stubble. It was shaven in sharp, geometric lines. Liam supposed this was some sort of “cool guy” thing. It contrasted oddly with his disregard for his clothing. Blue smoke constantly rose from Antony as though he had a small fire burning somewhere in his chest. The smoldering was a signature left by his departure from life. Antony had set himself ablaze to purge the real world away. Antony grinned at Liam.
FIRST PERSON- ( I hate this so much my stomach quivers like freaking jello when I read over it.)
I noticed Liam leaning against the wall, tugging at the cuffs of his ill-fitting suit. The sleeves sat midway up his forearm, the ends of his pants falling well above his ankles. The shirt and jacket were very, very wide. It puffed out in odd places, refusing to make contact with his rotting skin. He looked frustrated. He kept compulsively running his hands over the tails of hair trailing down the back of his neck. I was feeling a little unsteady on my feet at that point, but I decided I had to know what had him so flustered.
“Why are you mad, Liam?” The words came out of my mouth in a way I hadn’t expected. They ran together into a cathartic stream of syllables. Liam didn’t seem to notice.
“I hate suits. They never fit me right. They’re made for differently shaped men. I guess it could be worse, I could be Julius. He pins his clothes so that they’ll lie flat over his ribs.” Liam sneered at Julius from across the room.
Antony came wandering over towards us with a strange smile on his face. I had only met Antony on one or two prior occasions, but I had never seen him wearing quite that expression. Antony was comparatively short and on the buff side. Everything fit Antony well. He had dark hair and one blue eye. Oddly enough, the first thing to rot away from Antony's body had been his left eye. He had the top few buttons on his shirt undone so that the neck fell ragged upon his broad shoulders. Antony's beard was always grown out to stubble. It was shaven in sharp, geometric lines. It contrasted oddly with his disregard for his clothing. Blue smoke constantly rose from Antony as though he had a small fire burning somewhere in his chest. The smoldering was a signature left by his departure from life. Antony had set himself ablaze to purge the real world away. Antony grinned at Liam.
WAT DO?
I abuse this poor forum so much.
Ok, here's the thing.
I wanted to rewrite my manuscript in 1st person because I thought it would draw the reader in better. I have encountered an issue in that a lot of the previous writing sort of "switches views" in third person. So now I've had to insert my MC into scene she was never in and modify the writing and OH MY GAWD, IT'S AWFUL.
OBJECTIVES-
1. Look at, and compare this shit.
2. Tell me what to do, please. TELL ME WHAT TO DO, AW.
THIRD PERSON- (I feel ok about this.)
Liam hated suits. They never fit him right. They were made for differently shaped men. The cuffs sat mid-way up his forearm. He'd had a difficult time tucking the tails of the shirt into his pants. The pants themselves ended far above his ankles. The shirt and jacket were very, very wide. It puffed out in odd places, refusing to make contact with his rotting skin. He sighed. It could be worse, he reminded himself. He could be Julius. Julius had taken to safety-pinning his shirt in a fold to make it lay tightly over his bare ribs. Julius had many nicely made suits, however. Having been thin and wealthy during his flesh baring years, Julius had many suits tailored well enough that he could still wear them as a skeleton.
Liam sneered as Antony walked towards him. Antony was comparatively short and on the buff side. Everything fit Antony well. He had dark hair and one blue eye. Oddly enough the first thing to rot away from Antony's body had been his left eye. He had the top few buttons on his shirt undone so that the neck fell ragged upon his broad shoulders. Sloppy, was Liam's first thought. Antony's beard was always grown out to stubble. It was shaven in sharp, geometric lines. Liam supposed this was some sort of “cool guy” thing. It contrasted oddly with his disregard for his clothing. Blue smoke constantly rose from Antony as though he had a small fire burning somewhere in his chest. The smoldering was a signature left by his departure from life. Antony had set himself ablaze to purge the real world away. Antony grinned at Liam.
FIRST PERSON- ( I hate this so much my stomach quivers like freaking jello when I read over it.)
I noticed Liam leaning against the wall, tugging at the cuffs of his ill-fitting suit. The sleeves sat midway up his forearm, the ends of his pants falling well above his ankles. The shirt and jacket were very, very wide. It puffed out in odd places, refusing to make contact with his rotting skin. He looked frustrated. He kept compulsively running his hands over the tails of hair trailing down the back of his neck. I was feeling a little unsteady on my feet at that point, but I decided I had to know what had him so flustered.
“Why are you mad, Liam?” The words came out of my mouth in a way I hadn’t expected. They ran together into a cathartic stream of syllables. Liam didn’t seem to notice.
“I hate suits. They never fit me right. They’re made for differently shaped men. I guess it could be worse, I could be Julius. He pins his clothes so that they’ll lie flat over his ribs.” Liam sneered at Julius from across the room.
Antony came wandering over towards us with a strange smile on his face. I had only met Antony on one or two prior occasions, but I had never seen him wearing quite that expression. Antony was comparatively short and on the buff side. Everything fit Antony well. He had dark hair and one blue eye. Oddly enough, the first thing to rot away from Antony's body had been his left eye. He had the top few buttons on his shirt undone so that the neck fell ragged upon his broad shoulders. Antony's beard was always grown out to stubble. It was shaven in sharp, geometric lines. It contrasted oddly with his disregard for his clothing. Blue smoke constantly rose from Antony as though he had a small fire burning somewhere in his chest. The smoldering was a signature left by his departure from life. Antony had set himself ablaze to purge the real world away. Antony grinned at Liam.
WAT DO?