Emotional Beats: Walking and moving (I)

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Emotional Beats, emotions, feelings, moving, Walking, Writing

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 chapter deals with:

Walking and moving (I)

Emotional Beats | From the blog of Nicholas C. Rossis, author of science fiction, the Pearseus epic fantasy series and children's books

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There are so many ways of describing walking, each of them conveying a certain emotion. For instance, consider the differences between the following: walk; tread; stride; stroll; saunter; march; amble; stagger; perambulate; ramble; meander; wander; dawdle; mosey; roam; rove; travel; journey; tramp; trudge; slog; plod; lumber; scramble; journey; shuffle; hobble; shamble; waddle; trundle; limp.

Here are some more examples:

He swung around/spun around.
She slinked over to him
She hurtled into the room with all the momentum of a tidal wave, slamming the door behind her.
He rushed to his feet.
He barreled into the room
Snake: I look up at the silhouette snaking towards me
He lumbered down the hall.
He fled the room.
He stalked off.
He stormed out of the room / he stormed off.
He stomped down the hall.
He rushed down the corridor.
She sashayed off behind the curtain.
She tottered along, unsteadily in her high heels.
He tumbled down the alleyway.
They followed her as she wove through the room.
I’d better scurry.
He flew out of the room.
He slogged his way back into the room.
Their boots crunched across the snow as they walked.
His head lowered, he watched his feet step one after the other, his hands clasped behind his back to keep from trembling.
His feet kicked up small drifts, ribboned by the wind. He needed this trek to sober up, his head feeling stuffed with wool and crowded with too many thoughts.
He shooed her from the room.
She stomped down the hallway to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
He dawdled for a while, alone in the empty room.
He made a beeline for the bar.
He hoisted the satchel farther up his shoulder and continued walking.
He fell into step beside her.
He headed past her.
He stepped off the elevator with purpose.
He took four ground-eating steps.
She backpedaled, heading for her boots.
She slinked down the darkened corridor.
They made their way through…
He propelled me toward the far wall.
She marched up to him.
She stalked into the kitchen.
She strode past him.
He stormed across the parking lot.
He made a break for the door.
He loped forward into the thick fog.
She picked her way over the rough ground.
She slogged through a quicksand jungle.
She strode forward.
He thrust past him, shouldering him roughly aside and flinging hard against the palisade.
He walked towards her, cresting the shingle ridge.
She stepped away.
She drew nearer.
He leaned closer.
She inched forward.
He loomed closer.
The children bounded down the stairs for dinner.