Translating An Imagined Scene To Flowing Words…

A lot of the times, what started as a scene playing so clearly inside my head becomes a process of ‘rinse and repeat’. A good opening sentence needs to be revised and rewritten. A word I first thought would be appropriate to use in a particular sentence might need to be re-arranged to appear later in the section.

Here’s an example, in which words started swirling inside my head I had to, first of all, typed onto my phone.

Scenario: Astonished that Lizzy has befriended the son-of-billionaire Michael Bradford in a short time since commencing at St. Andrew’s, Gordon Crane has asked Lizzy to put in a good word. This section reveals what happened after Lizzy told Gordon she wouldn’t be a go-between.

A rumble began to sound and grow louder inside him soon as Lizzy turned her back on him and walked away, dark spots slowly swarming his vision as she matched her pace with the son-of-billionaire.
Re-reading the above sentence (quite a few times, I might add), I began to pick a number of problems:

1. ‘A rumble began to sound and grow louder…’ Whilst I think the word ‘rumble’ was a good one to use, the opening sentence as a whole read like a mouthful. I wanted something ‘punchier’, but still shows Gordon’s internal turmoil to the reader.
2. Lizzy matching her pace with the son-of-billionaire insinuated that he was lurking around, patiently waiting until she finished chatting with Gordon. As a stand-alone section, there would be nothing wrong with this. However, in the previous section, I have written that Michael knew nothing about Gordon’s interaction with Lizzy, so him waiting for her around the corner would suggest he knew, and therefore changed the whole narrative altogether.

After a few tries, I condensed the original sentence to:
Gordon began to shake as Lizzy turned her back on him and walked away, dark spots swarming his vision as she matched her pace with the student emerging from around the corner.

No one had ever denied him! Certainly not his parents, nor those whom had grovelled at him, either wishing desperately to join his exclusive little clique or promising to comply with his every wish and be spared from his further torment.
Initially, I left the above sentence as is, but the more I revisited it, the more I thought there was a better way to show the reader why a) having to ask someone for a favour; and b) subsequently having his request denied, was an alien concept to Gordon.

I played around with rewriting the above paragraph, including:
Gordon narrowed his eyes considerably at the girl whom had matched her pace to the son-of-billionaire’s, her melodious cackle as she turned her face slightly upwards towards Michael might as well be a slap in his face.
No one denies me! His inner voice roared vehemently, both fury and humiliation compounding within.

Before finally settling on the below (the fact that I could incorporate ‘rumble/rumbling’ is an added bonus!):
No one has ever denied me! His inner voice stated as thunderously as the boiling blood rumbling in his ears.
Perhaps, the more exacting sentiment was that having had his stepmother shroud him with indulgences he wouldn’t otherwise aware of its existence, and others beg him to either desperately join his exclusive clique or be spared from further torment, Gordon had seldom had to request for anything in the first place.

Having given the reader a glimpse of flashback, I needed to bring the scene back to the present and progress the whole section forward.
Gordon narrowed his eyes considerably at the girl whom had matched her pace to the son-of-billionaire’s, her melodious cackle as she turned her face slightly upwards towards Michael might as well be a slap in his face.
It was humiliating enough that he had had to resort to some semblance of grovelling, the sting of Lizzy’s refusal to do his bidding fuelling his wrath further.

I could have left these two paragraphs well alone, but the below final version just made the whole thing more succinct whilst still conveying everything I had written above.
He narrowed his eyes considerably as Lizzy revealed her beaming face to Michael, her melodious cackle might as well be a hard slap on his face. If resorting to some semblance of grovelling was humiliating enough, the sting of Lizzy’s refusal to do his bidding only fuelled his wrath further.

For not only had Elizabeth Hartley robbed him of fifty bucks – having wagered that her friendship with Michael Bradford wouldn’t last longer than a week before his fascination fizzled out and he returned to his usual loner-slash-floater tendencies, she had also robbed him of the most powerful alliance he could ever had; an alliance that was rightfully his more than it was hers!
I struggled the most with this paragraph. I want to further show the reader as to why Gordon simply couldn’t let go of his grudge – that final nail on the coffin, but didn’t want to lose the potential reader’s attention span by writing long, convoluted sentences. I had written, and rewritten a number of versions, including:

Version 1
Staring at Lizzy as though he wished to lazer the back of her head, he began to concoct a devious plan to make the rest of her days at St Andrew’s utterly miserable. In his universe, the pairing of Michael Bradford’s status with someone whom a) had costed him fifty bucks, for he had initiated a wager that her friendship with Michael wouldn’t last longer than a week before the son-of-billionaire’s fascination fizzled out; b) usurped the alliance that was rightfully his; and c) ought to be scraping the bottom of the oil-greased barrel was simply… incomprehensible.

Version 2
Gordon stared at Lizzy as though he wished to lazer the back of her head, hell-bent in making the rest of her days at St. Andrew’s utterly miserable. For the girl had not only costed him fifty bucks… (see the reason above), but also robbed him of the most powerful alliance; an alliance that was rightfully his rather than hers!

Before finally settling on the below version:
Gordon stared at Lizzy as though he wished to lazer the back of her head, hell-bent to make the rest of her days at St. Andrew’s utterly miserable. In addition to costing him fifty bucks for debunking his conviction that her friendship with Michael wouldn’t last longer than a week before the son-of-billionaire’s fascination fizzled out, she had also usurped the alliance that was rightfully his. And in his universe, the pairing of Michael Bradford’s status with someone whom ought to be scraping the bottom of the oil-greased barrel was simply… incomprehensible.

Click here to read the section in one fluid, flowing motion.

Shy of 250 words, to get to the stage where I am happy with it before moving on to another section, there were a number of delete, re-write, rinse and repeat processes involved. Time-wise – depending on how fluid the words flow in my brain, the topic, and which point of view I’m writing from (and let’s face it – the more antagonistic the character is, the more challenging the process), could be anywhere from a few hours to half-a-day.

Hope you enjoy this little glimpse into my creative process. Feel free to leave your comment and/or feedback below.