I write YA and MG novels, because I can't help it. My day job is scientific editing.
The afernoon sun beat down, washing out everything with the intensity of its light. I covered my eyes against the harsh glare and squinted, straining to see across the freshly-ploughed field. Off-key snatches of an old 80's song drifted to me over the sound of the tractor, and I smiled. Dad was there.
I shaded my eyes against the blinding morning sun. The freshly ploughed field gave off a rich loamy scent reminiscent of hardwork and and easy sleep. It had been such a long time since I’d watched him do this. The tractor engine popped like a shotgun echo and a billow of smoke obscured Dad from my view. I strained to see through the smoke until I could make him out bouncing in his seat, probably singing Dancing in the Street, just like he was David Bowie. I couldn’t help but smile.
I limped to a stop and cupped my bleeding hands over my eyes. Squinting across the freshly-ploughed field into the bright afternoon sun, I searched for the screeching voice. Dad rode along on the tractor singing some old 80’s song loudly to himself, and I smiled. A sight that brought me intangible safety.
I covered my eyes, squinting across the freshly-ploughed field into the bright afternoon sun. Dad was riding along on the tractor singing some old 80’s song loudly to himself, and I smiled.[Not much tension to be found in a happy scene like this, I'm afraid. It's fine as is, so long as it provides a contrast for conflict later in the scene. That is, if this is the start of a scene, the encounter should end on an unhappy note.][The only suggestions I can think of would be to add more of the other senses, give an idea of how the narration character feels about field work, or to imply a sense of impending doom. But without knowing more about what's going on in this scene, I don't feel confident enough to write in any of that.]
I covered my eyes, squinting across the freshly-ploughed field into the bright afternoon sun. Dad was riding along on the tractor singing some old 80’s song loudly to himself, and I smiled.(This one's a little harder, as there isn't much inherent tension in the mood. It's more of a relaxed, pleasant feel. To try to make it tense, we'd need to introduce a question, some uncertainty. How about just not saying, yet, who she's looking at? We'll let the reader guess at the identity and the relationship for a while. Oh, and because I can't help it, I'll add a hint of foreboding.)I squinted across the freshly ploughed field, covering my eyes against the bright afternoon sun. There he was. He was riding along on the tractor, bouncing easily and singing an old '80s song loudly to himself. I smiled. He seemed so happy when he was alone, working. I wished I didn't have to ruin it today.
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