Hello dear readers! I do realize it’s a bit late tonight, but I am in the mood to write, and therefore must do so.
I’ve shared some tricks I use to get over writer’s block before, but I’d like to explain this particular one in more depth since I use it the most. A lot of time I’ll be writing a story and an idea for this wonderful, suspenseful, action-packed sequence comes my way. Of course, it now takes all of the focus off of what IÂ was writing, and the only way to get back on track is to jot down the idea. But when I can’t think of anything to write at all, going back to those ideas and fleshing them out into real scenes can be very useful. Sometimes it helps to get ideas flowing, other times it gives me incentive to bridge the gap between where the story is now and where the scene is.
Here’s one that I wrote a bit of time ago.
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Of course theyâd send me on relocation, Alex thought to herself as she grabbed all the items sheâd probably need. It wouldnât do to miss something important. Either way, I just wish this kid could keep herself out of trouble…
Dressed in clothes to disguise her stature – baggy black cargo pants, a dark t-shirt, a plain black hoodie, and black and white converse – Alex snatched her now-filled satchel and darted into the garage. Slinging her pack onto her back and tapping the garage door opener, she tugged on the helmet and hopped on her bike, garage door sliding up as she did so. Gunning the engine, she flashed out of the driveway, weaving her way down the street and around the bend.
Since her charge was currently compromised in her position, Alexâs responsibility was to bring her to the safe-house where her guardian was waiting. The socialite currently had a temporary guardian so that James could throw the pursuers off the girlâs trail. She whipped down the side streets and onto the freeway, closing the few miles between herself and the girl as quickly as possible.
âCall Trent,â Alex ordered as she concentrated on the road.
âCalling…â the electronic voice replied, Trentâs number popping up in the corner of her visor.
âYello?â answered a familiar voice once he picked up.
âTrent? Itâs Alex, Iâm gonna need you on standby,â she said, peeling off the freeway and down the street towards the girlâs current residence.
âLocation?â Trent asked, all traces of his fun-loving nature fading at the tone of Alexâs voice.
âLydiaâs house,â she replied with a sigh.
âGet herself into trouble again?â
âPretty much.â
âMy question is when is she going to learn that she needs to keep her head down while we solve this mess.â
âI really donât know.â
Finishing the conversation, Alex cut the communication line and turned the corner to Lydiaâs current whereabouts. She roared up the the sidewalk, hastily parking the bike and running up to the gate. After attempting to open the gate with the code – apparently itâd been changed since she used it last – Alex decided to go without technology and vaulted over the gate. This, of course, set off a few alarms, but Alex really couldnât care less at this point.
Lydia had been relaxing out in the back with James accompanying her when Alex found them.
âJames, timeâs up,â Alex told him quietly, though her voice was muffled by the helmet she hadnât cared to take off.
âWhere to? Is the safe-house secured?â he breathed, barely close enough for Alex to hear.
With a nod, James turned to the spoiled socialite complaining about the spotty sunshine.
âMiss, it seems that your mother requires you at the country club for some opinions,â James told her.
âNow? Ugh. She always has the worst timing,â Lydia whined, before tossing the magazine sheâd been reading on the side table and getting up.
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Lydia followed James out, Alex having darted off just before to conceal the bike. She was supposed to stay anonymous for now, and to provide support if needed. It wasnât long before the stretch was pulling out of the driveway. However, as they were about to leave, the front two tires blew out simultaneously.
That was from bullets… Alex realized.
âJames! Theyâre here!â she called, the connection sheâd establish transmitting the warning.
âYou sure?â he asked back.
âYour front two tires donât blow out at the same time by themselves.â
âGet the girl, take her with you. You can dodge trackers easier.â
âUnderstood. Sheâs wearing kevlar correct?â
Hearing a confirmation, Alex revved the engine, driving up the driveway right next to the limo door. Opening it, she shouted to the girl inside.
âGet on!â
Once sheâd tossed Lydia a helmet, the stupefied girl unsure of what to do, Alex simply pulled the girl on and made sure the helmet was on her head. Confirming that she wouldnât fall off, Alex peeled off the property, several bullets following in her wake.
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I usually don’t write action scenes (should probably work on that eheh), or spy fics for that matter, but for some reason the beginning of a chase scene just really wanted to be written.
Well, I’d love to hear more about what you guys like to write, your writing style, stuff like that. Thanks for reading đ