"Setting" in your WIP
Because I don't drive around too often it takes me a while to get through an audio book, so I'm still listening to one by James Lee Burke. The way he sets a scene is so well done. Between his character and setting descriptions--and how he executes them so flawlessly--he has me shaking my head and just thinking how amazing he is. And aspiring to be
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I’ve got that just-before-the-cages-open feeling in my chest. Wipe my fingers. Check the tension in my strings. There’s a pack of drunken faces just beyond the stage. Stale beer perfume. Leather and sweat. Black tees with faded band names. Showtime.
The wood feels good beneath my boots. Solid. Strong. The Fender’s weight hangs tight across my shoulder, giving comfort like a gun. My corset’s too tight, though, and it’s shoving my boobs to my chin. I can’t breathe. Stupid corset.
Glance across to Chipper behind her kit. Brian’s shadow cocked behind his bass. Rice’s fingers flexing just before the storm. Hunger from the crowd. Hunger inside.
Nod to our secret weapon in the wings.
Her familiar luminescence emerges from backstage. The crowd hushes, then it roars. Kelsey slips brave and barefoot through the cable mess. Bright wings unfurl, shimmering, from her back. She smiles, and even with the lights down you can see her grin. She steps up behind the mike stand. Breathes. In the twilight, someone starts to howl. The crowd picks up the sound until it screams.
Kelsey grins wider, lifts her arms high like a priestess. The scream becomes an invocation. She brightens, feeding off the surge. Behind me, Chipper shifts her weight. Drumsticks click, cymbals hiss. The
Beast is waiting.
Kelsey looks to me.
I nod, and it begins.
Our first note hits like a thunderclap. The lights blast up and everything goes white. For a second we’re suspended in a single power chord. Then we crash in toward the verse. Kelsey screams in perfect pitch. The crowd goes apeshit. They love it. They love us.
This is what I live for. Ravenous. That’s me. That’s us. That’s Kelsey. That’s the Beast.
Who’d believe this could be me?
This tales features perhaps my favorite opening line to date. I used to play in rock bands during the 1990s, and this scene captures perfectly the way it felt to step onstage and open a set. I love the way the fleeting impressions - "stale beer purfume. Leather and sweat" - encompass the dark chaos of a club just before the band begins.
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