When writing short stories for CXC, remember to stay within the stipulated word limit of 450 to 500 words. If you go too much over, or fall too much under, you risk losing marks. Aside from that, writing too many words might take up too much time and make it difficult for you to complete all the questions on the paper in time.
Here is a tip for keeping track of the word count while writing. After writing the first paragraph, count the number of words in the second line. When you reach the end of the first page, count the number of lines on the page and multiply it by the number of words in the second line. This will give you an idea of the total number of words on one page and give you a good average of how many more words you need to write.
Sentence Length.
An average sentence length of 14 words is recommended for good narrative writing. In a short story, the occasional use of short sentences creates a dramatic effect. Example:
The door opened. My heart beat louder. I turned around.
Here is a great short story that uses the average sentence length of 14 words while tempering it with short, dramatic sentences. However, the story goes over the word limit required for CXC. Try rewriting it and condensing it too 500 words. What details would you eliminate to make the story shorter?
A Narrow Escape
It was a warm Sunday evening when I was walking to the house of my friend, Bri. As I strolled along the beautiful bitumen paved road, a thousand thoughts flew through my mind…thoughts of this lovely young woman Bri with a not so perfect life. Soon, I turned the corner, opened the gate, and walked into her yard.
As I entered the yard, Bri’s dog, Chubby, ran to me wagging its tail. I stooped down to pet it, but strangely, I saw sadness in its brown eyes. Then, I walked to the door and called for Bri, but there was no answer. This seemed unusual to me. Only ten minutes ago I had spoken to her, and she told me that she would be waiting for me at the front porch. I called again, but still no answer.
I started to become a bit agitated. I walked to the side of the house and tried to peer through the windows, but the thick curtains blocked my view. I walked all the way to the back and came back to the front. For some reason, the atmosphere started to feel gloomy. My heart started to beat faster. My sixth sense told me something wasn’t right.
I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.The response was almost immediate “911…what’s your emergency!”
“My friend is in trouble!” I exclaimed.
“What kind of trouble ma’am?”
For a few seconds, my mind went blank. I didn’t know how to answer. Then I regained my composure. I shouted, “Someone is in trouble! Just come over right now! 145 Blueberry Drive, Georgetown, Guyana! Right opposite the ice cream shop.”
“What kind of trouble ma’am?” the officer asked again.
At that point, my frustration had reached a boiling point. “Useless police!” I shouted as I hang up the phone. I looked around me. My eyes caught a heavy log on the ground. Just then I heard a scraping sound coming from the house. Then I heard something tumbling. Then I heard a muffled voice…as though someone were trying to scream.
I grabbed the log. It must have been about one hundred pounds in weight. I didn’t know where the strength came from, but I lifted the log and clutched it to my right side like a human crane. With superhuman force, I drove it into the door. The door rattled, creaked, and groaned under the extreme pressure I had just exerted on it. Then slowly, the hinges loosened and it fell forward, hitting the ground with a dramatic “bang!”
Like half-human, half robot, I stormed into the house. As I ran up the stairs, I heard noises of a struggle. The noises were coming from the bedroom. I ran straight to the door. It was locked. I held on the lock. I pushed and pulled with all my might, but it did not open. I started to kick at the door which banged with a loud noise as it tore from its hinges and fell to the side. Then, I came face to face with the most terrifying sight I had ever seen.
Bri was bound hand and foot unto a chair, her mouth gagged with a cloth. Her eyes were filled with horror and so was mine. Next to her stood her husband brandishing a long knife in his hand, a frightful image in itself. But what was more frightful was the expression of death in his contorted face, his eyes red with anger.
At that point, my mind reeled back to ten years ago, to the wedding at the church.This is the man who had promised to love Bri…to have and to hold, to protect and to care for, till death do them part. He stared at me. I could tell that she wasn’t expecting to see me there. He looked shocked and amazed.
Breaking myself free from the momentary trance, I ran to him and grabbed his hands trying to wrestle the knife from him. But he was so much stronger than I was. He quickly braced me to the wall. Slowly, and with brutal force, he turned the knife towards me as I summoned every ounce of my strength to save my life. A dreadful struggle ensued, but I was loosing the battle. I was at the end of my strength. My life flashed before my eyes. I thought that this was my end. I was about to let go and let what had to happen, happen when I heard the sound of boots stamping up the stairs. I felt a renewed surge of strength flow through my body. I braced my adversary with one final push. Then I heard that comforting, heroic shout, “Police!” There a loud bang. Blood splattered on my face. The knife clanged on the ground. I stared in horror as Jim reeled slowly backward and fell to the floor. My blood froze. My hands were shaking. I stared in horror at everything around me. That was a narrow escape.
