TR&W Issue 20

www.teachwire.net | 21 C L AS SROOM AC T I V I T I E S Chapter 4 – Run, pages 42-43 42-43 Zo and the Forest of Secrets I chose these more specific and dramatic verbs – ‘jumping’, ‘ducking’ – to create more intensity in Zo’s movements, rather than using ‘running’ every time, to describe what she’s doing. Zo’s physical reactions are more intense now at this stage of the chase (she can barely breathe). There is tension between hope (the beast has fallen back slightly) and danger (‘but it was still close’). This sets us up for the major twist that comes next! An exciting chase has the element of surprise. For more, check out Zo and the Forest of Secrets . Even though she doesn’t fully see what’s chasing her, she can smell it. By dropping details from the five senses throughout the chase, I create a sense of dread in Zo and the reader about what’s after her. In addition to what’s behind her, there are obstacles in Zo’s way that she has to get around to escape what’s chasing her. This makes the chase more exciting. Create a worthy opponent: someone or something smart enough, scary enough, or with interesting talents and abilities, to make the chase exciting. In this case, giving the beast a personified element (‘a scream that seemed almost human’) adds to the dread that Zo feels. Here I used sound (what Zo is hearing) to create a sense of anticipation and fear. Zo keeps thinking of ways to escape, and this gives her and the reader hope that she might do so. We all need hope to keep going. Zo is already having uncomfortable physical reactions to the chase (a ‘knot in [her] side’) that make us nervous about whether she’ll make it. Your characters weaknesses and vulnerabilities are important for helping us connect to and root for them. I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, past the hill, into the forest. Behind me, I could hear the scrabble of sliding dirt and stones, the crack and crash of trees. Hopefully, the undergrowth would slow it down. I held the torch in front of me, jumping over roots, and ducking under branches. I didn’t dare look back. I could hear it somewhere behind me: a repeating snarl that started low then got louder and higher, until it was a scream that seemed almost human. I pushed myself to run faster, ignoring the knot in my side. My backpack hooked on some bushes as I scrambled through them. It dragged me backwards. I tried to pull free. I could hear the Flesh-skinner getting closer. I could smell it: a thick swampy rotten-egg smell. I yanked myself forward, but the backpack wouldn’t budge. It was me or this bag. I had to leave it behind. I squeezed out of it and kept running. Sweat blinded me. My legs whipped past each other. I stumbled but kept going. Any second, that thing might reach out and grab me. The thought alone gave me wings. I dashed between the trees. Did I have time to swing myself up into their branches? What if it could climb? There was no time to stop and find out. I kept running. Trees rushed past me. The ground started rising, slowly at first, then more steeply. I gasped for air. I felt the beast fall back slightly, but it was still close. I forced myself to go even faster. Extract from