Below I've posted two versions of the same excerpt from the story. Just to give you some background, in the very beginning of the story, a madman butchers a 5 member family and writes a wood in blood on the living room wall (as of now, you don't know what that word is). Now, the protagonist is wandering through an abandoned mental asylum with his friends, just for shits and giggles, and comes across something that startles him:
PAST:
I observed
the doctor’s room. I moved the beam of light around the walls, passing by
graffiti and—
Suddenly,
my hand stopped. My heart did, too. But no. It couldn’t be. I was just being
paranoid. Imagining things.
I
brought the beam of light a few inches back, slowly, cautiously, afraid of what
I might find. And there the light stayed, shining upon the unfathomable truth. A
bookshelf stood before me, its shelves rotting and filled with medical
journals. But it was the graffiti hovering above this furniture that had caught
my attention. I gaped at it, trying to make sense of its presence.
It was
a single word, spray-painted in red.
Just like
the word spread on the wall of that poor family’s home…
My hand trembled, and
the beam of light quivered with it. From somewhere far away, I could hear
Natalie’s voice call out to me, “Come on, Tyler. Let’s go find these idiots.” Next
I heard footsteps wandering out the room and down the corridor. I should’ve
followed her. I should’ve stayed with her. But disbelief had me rooted to the
spot. PRESENT:
I observe
the doctor’s room. I move the beam of light around the walls, passing by
graffiti and--
Suddenly,
my hand stops. My heart does, too. But no. It can’t be. I’m just being
paranoid. Imagining things.
I bring
the beam of light a few inches back, slowly, cautiously, afraid of what I might
find. And there the light stays, shining upon the unfathomable truth. A
bookshelf stands before me, its shelves rotting and filled with medical
journals. But it’s the graffiti hovering above this furniture that caught my
attention. I gape at it, trying to make sense of its presence.
It’s a
single word, spray-painted in red.
Just like
the word spread on the wall of that poor family’s home…
My hand trembles, and
the beam of light quivers with it. From somewhere far away, I can hear
Natalie’s voice call out to me, “Come on, Tyler. Let’s go find these idiots.” Next
I hear footsteps wandering out the room and down the corridor. I should’ve
followed her. I should’ve stayed with her. But disbelief had me rooted to the
spot. What’s Lester Mitchell’s word doing in this room?So what do you guys think? Do you prefer the past or present or is there no discernible difference between the two?
I think I prefer the Past Tense a bit more...it flows a bit better and seems to be a bit more suspenseful because of that. The way the words are written the past tense adds that tension..For example:
ReplyDeleteSuddenly, my hand stopped versus Suddenly, my hand stops.
To me stopped is more abrupt and is better visualized by the reader.
The past tense also gives the reader a better story-telling aspect as opposed to the present tense.
Here are some other things I noted that maybe could be changed from the Past Tense Version:
--"rotted" instead of "rotting"
--remove "hovering"
In this short excerpt that you give, there is really not much of a difference. However, if it was a larger portion of the story perhaps I would be able to say which I prefer.
ReplyDeleteAs a consumer and collector of your work, I find this short anecdote equally compelling.
ReplyDeleteConcerning the discrepancy between past and present tenses, I believe the present tense offers more liveliness. The reader is immersed in the sequence as it occurs. The feeling is visceral, yet particularly vicarious through the narrator's viewpoint. In the narrator's shoes, it felt suspenseful and exciting.