Running & Writing Choreography—the Where it is and Why it’s There Part

I’ve gotta rant. But first, I’ve gotta tell you about this morning’s run: I ran up, down, past, beyond, around, near, over and back. Yup, I ran and I made it home afterward.

Now I’ll rant: Yesterday I finished reading a book packed with choreography—tons of over, under, through, by, near, on and around, but scant tension, emotion and depth. Here’s a sample (abbreviated): He walked over to the wall, leaned against it and slid down. She walked over and faced him. The other person walked over and faced them.

Three things caught me in the short paragraph: 1.) He felt tired, weary, helpless, and/or discouraged (he slid down the wall). 2.) She “walked over” (not significant—not to encourage the man or very original—she performed the exact same action he did, minus sliding down the wall). 3.) The other person did no better—he “walked over” and did nothing more. (Trust me, all three people “walked over” to the wall.)

Where the characters were placed and how they got there seemed to be the emphasis of the paragraph. Skip the fact that the man hadn’t slept for 48-hours and he and the woman were being held hostage, and the other person had a weapon in his hand. The choreography turned all three characters into mannequins without feelings, and the gun into a prop without any threat.

The following paragraphs never mentioned whether the man felt tired, weary, helpless or discouraged or if he felt some other emotion, so his sliding down the wall became insignificant—it only put his bum on the floor.

The book continued and so did the bland choreography. No one sprinted during the escape, no one grabbed anyone to pull them from a precipice, no one darted for cover and no one sank into the shadows—and yes, there were plenty of opportunities for all of that and much more. The characters never squirmed or schemed, but they did brush their teeth, notice the dust (which played no part in the story) and ate omelets.

Snoozing yet?

Back to my run: I skipped the dead deer route this morning—I won’t venture there again until after I check it out in my car with the windows rolled up. The days are getting warmer and I know what happens to carcasses in the sun—they offend the olfactory nerve. Instead—I jogged up an unexplored road after being promised a side road branched off fairly soon. It doesn’t. But it was worth it. I found a cute cottage to spark my imagination. And camels.

Now I’ve gotta ask: Which description of today’s run stood out? Emotions trump choreography. And so do camels in my little village.