In this award-winning novel, 13-year-old Brian has to survive in the wilderness alone after a plane crash.
Exciting plot, right?
Exciting plots deserve strong verbs. All plots deserve strong verbs.
Here's a passage from Hatchet describing the crash. I highlighted in blue the verbs in all their forms.
Then a wild crashing sound, ripping of
metal, and the plane rolled to the right and blew through the
trees, out over the water and down, down to slam into the lake, skip
once on water as hard as concrete, water that tore the windshield out
and shattered the side windows, water that drove him back into
the seat. Somebody was screaming, screaming as the plane drove
down into the water. Someone screamed tight animal screams of fear and
pain and he did not know that it was his sound, that he roared
against the water that took him and the plane still deeper, down in the
water. He saw nothing but sensed blue, cold blue-green, and he raked
at the seatbelt catch, tore his nails loose on one hand. He ripped
at it until it released and somehow—the water trying to kill
him, to end him—somehow he pulled himself out of the shattered
front window and clawed up into the blue, felt something hold
him back, felt his windbreaker tear and he was free. Tearing
free. Ripping free.
Did you notice the strong verbs? Crashing, ripping, slam, tore, shattered, clawed. We sometimes need weaker verbs like "was" and "felt," but in this passage the strong verbs dominate and bring the story to life.
Gary Paulsen also uses repetition--screaming, screaming--to show us Brian's emotions.
Read a scene from one of your stories. Rewrite the scene using strong verbs. Does your passage fly, lift, or soar?
