Writing Challenge 1

“Dianne help,” mom shouted! Little Liz was immediately forgotten, her clean diaper only half pinned on when I looked up and saw the flames leaping above the camp stove. “Grab the other side,” mom yelled, snatching at the handle of a galvanized steel tub half full of water. With a wrench we lifted and carried the 70lbs of water and steel from the campfire over to the stove and threw it on the fire.

“Get Paul,” mom screamed as we watched the liquid flames flow across the camp. I ran! As hard as I could, faster than I had ever run in my life; I ran! Over the summer dry creek bed, I ran. Across the cow pasture I ran diving through the fence. My sides burning with pain I ran. Through the virgin woods of fir, pine and scattered underbrush I ran. Leaping over rocks and fallen branches I ran. Along side the ripe field of wheat I ran.

I was in luck. Mr. Gabriel was on the combine harvesting the wheat. Gasping for breathe, my lungs exploding with effort, I jumped up and down on the road as I tried to scream load enough to be heard. It was no use. Should I run into the field? The wheat was almost as tall as me and the cutting head was way taller.

Turning at the end of the pass he saw my frantic jumping and waving on the other side of the fence. He leaped out of the combine and raced over. “Fire,” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“Wait here,” he shouted as he sprinted down the dirt road. A couple of minutes later he raced by in his little mini pickup, slowing just enough for me to climb up into the back with his son in-law. When we got to the fence Mr. Harris leaped out to open it and raced after us to catch the tailgate and swing into the bed again. We bounced wildly over the rocks and tree roots and across the dry creek. Roaring into camp…

Only to find a huge black scorched patch of earth.

I really enjoyed the energy to this piece. The will of survival, protecting our own, is definitely a primal feeling. You captured it in this story with the pace, the breathlessness, and the combined community involvement coming together to help in a crisis.

Hey Dianne. Glad to see you responded to the first writing challenge!

I really like the fast-paced nature of the story, and the way you interspersed setting details with your action. It helped give a sense of time passing and filled in sensory information while still maintaining a sense of urgency about the crisis. Choosing fire was apt; it is a very fundamental and destructive force in nature.

Just a couple of quick editing notes:

-Generally, exclamation marks should be avoided unless it's in dialogue.
-'With a wrench' reads in a confusing way...I understood what you were saying, but the way it is written makes it seem like you are referring to a literal wrench. It's a good verb, though, and could be used in a way such as: 'Wrenching the seventy pounds of steel and water from the campfire, we...'
-'Breathe' should be 'breath'

I liked your abrupt ending, but I feel as though it is missing a bit of information. This might just be a matter of opinion though, and I get the feeling that it may have been intentional, but was the entire campsite swallowed by the fire?

Hope to see more from you soon, Dianne!

-James

To be honest I really didn't know how to end this. I was nine and when I got back and found the fire had burned out I went into a hysterical fit of crying. The only other thing I remember from that day was Mr. Gabriel driving back that night to see if I had recovered from my hysteria. Kind of set the pattern for how I have dealt with crisis ever since. I function extremely well while the pressure is on and then freak out big time once it is all over. lol

And thanks for the edits. I really need to improve in the spelling and punctuation areas.