Back in September, I published Emotional Beats: How to Easily Convert your Writing into Palpable Feelings. As promised, I will be posting the book on my blog. So, here is the next installment, continuing Part 3 of the book: Other Beats. This one deals with:

Fights

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Fights. The staple in many a genre. Where would be without them? Here are a few words that may prove useful when describing a fight:

• He crushed his opponent.
• He crashed against the floor.
• She hurled the stone at him.
• He pinned her to the ground.
• He pummeled the shield.
• She splintered the wood.
• She plunged at him.
• She swerved his sword.
• He catapulted at her.
• He wrenched the knife from her hand.
• He was already hurtling toward them.
• He lunged at her, wielding a huge axe.
• He swung his axe.
• He flung his axe at her.
• He dashed / raced / vaulted at them.
• She charged them.
• She hasted toward them.
• He plummeted to his death.
• She pounced at him.
• She dived after him.
• She slapped / thumped him.
• Fists thudded.
• Swords clanked.
• He sheathed his blade in the scabbard on his belt.
• A sudden and forceful tremor sent him sprawling on all fours.
• Furious, she hurled her knife after him. A moment too late, the blade thudded into the wall as its target vanished.
• Blood caked her wound, forming smudged streaks down her thigh.
• Blood was bubbling up through the wound.
• Taking the sword from where it rested against the wall, he sheathed it on his hip.
• He instinctively grabbed the side of his head as a surge of splitting pain pounded within.
• She launched herself into a spinning leap toward her opponent.  The man lunged forward to meet her, jabbing his fist towards her stomach.  She dodged him nimbly and cracked the pole down on his broad back.  There was a sickening crunch, and the man sprawled senseless on the ground.
• She whirled around in a circle, looking for any stragglers.
• A large stream of blood, now caked and hardened, clung to the side of his face. His eyes had a glassy sheen; his expression was dazed. He gingerly touched the wound near his temple and winced slightly on contact. He flicked a few flakes of dry blood from his fingers.
• A fine sheen of sweat shone on his upper lip.
• A second volley hissed in his ears, quelling the advance.
• As he bolted into the forest, he caught a glimpse of the enemy’s warriors, faces smeared with red paint, rushing up the road and pouring into the camp.
• The larger the army, the more logistics needed tending.
• Blood jetted in all directions, hitting him in the face.
• A mushroom cloud boiled over the ocean.  The noise and shockwave washed over them.
• His boots scuffed and kicked at the cobbles as he was dragged up onto a high stone step.
• She’d yank all of her hair out.
• His head thunked back onto the blood-streaked cobblestones.
• Blood sprinkled from the wound.
• It was as if she could sense every nerve, cell, muscle, drop of blood and hair in her body individually.
• She shot up to him and grabbed him by the throat.
• She lifted her bow and notched an arrow.
• With the sun on his back, he raised his arm and whirled his hand in a circle, finishing with a finger pointing forward. Behind him, the voices of the officers echoed his hand signal with commands to move.
• His arm ached from the fighting. His legs cramped, but he held himself strong.
• The mist-like appendages exploded, falling and twisting, as the creature fought for its existence.
• The fighting was fierce; no quarter asked, none given.
• He held his sword high and bellowed the command to reform their ranks. The cry echoed up and down the lines of armored men and women.
• The man bled his life out on the floor.
• He jumped off the crate, rolled beneath the monster, lashed out with his sword, and sliced through one of its legs.
• He swung his arms to loosen them.

Next week: Horses. View all posts on the subject, or buy the book on Amazon – free on KU!

Emotional Beats: Fights

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