What was that?

 

        Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

 

Of course, it’s sentences like that that force you to keep reading.  Right away you must find out what happened.  The writer has poked you with a stick.  He or she has gotten your attention and now it is up to them to keep it.  How skillful are they?  Will you read to the end of the page, maybe read the whole first chapter?  How good are they at telling a story?

Many, as it turns out, write themselves into a corner.  It’s a lot like driving a car.  You can’t simply look at the vehicle in front of you, if you truly want to avoid a collision you need to look several cars ahead.  You need to be prepared for what’s going to be coming up.  It’s the same with storytelling.

The campfire is going, all the young faces around it are looking up at you, waiting to hear about the escaped convict that is now in these very woods.  They’re holding their breath, listening for that distant twig snap or planning which way to run should something suddenly happen.

Well, let me tell you, what happened next has become legend of the Great North Woods, and from what I hear, some of those kids are still in therapy.  So you can see why the court has had me tone down my stories and restrict me to writing on this blog.  I've been banned from telling campfire stories forever.