Fishing... for a way out

[101927700]

Fishing... for a way out

Breanna Green, 25, was fishing along the side of a lake in a rural part of British Columbia. She was wearing brand new Cabela's chest waders, a pink hoodie and shirt, and your run-of-the-mill blue jeans. She was having a great time fishing for a while. Then, Breanna decided it was time to head home. So, she set her fishing bag down and set off on the trail back to where she had parked her car. However, she saw a rare bird off to her left. It was only about 50 feet off the trail. So, she started walking towards it. But, a few steps of the trail, Breanna felt the ground give way under her, as she sank to her hips in mud.

"Agh! I didn't know there would be mud here! I knew I should've stayed on the trail!" Breanna said to herself in annoyance. She tried pulling her left leg up, but suction held it in firmly. She tried the other leg, but got the same result. Suddenly, Breanna felt the mud bubble, and she sank to her waist. "I'm completely stuck now... This stuff is like dried concrete!" Breanna said.

Now, Breanna was up to her chest in the mud, and it was nearing the tops of her waders. The pressure of the mud was enough that she already had a hard time breathing. She tried time and time again to escape from the mud, but the struggle only made her sink deeper. Her waders sank over the tops, and the mud eagerly flowed in and filled the waders. Breanna pressed her arms against the mud, but they only got stuck. Now Breanna really had no options.

Suddenly, the mud let out a massive gas bubble, and Breanna sank to her shoulders. Fear was overtaking Breanna's mind very quickly. What do I do?! My arms are stuck in the mud, and I physically can't escape from this bog!, she thought. She screamed for help, but there was no reply.

Then, Breanna heard something snap above her, and saw a tree branch hanging over her. She managed to free her arms and grabbed on to it, and to her surprise, she was able to use her strength to pull herself upward. But, once she was up to only her waist, the branch broke, and Breanna plunged back down to breast-deep. Oh come on! I was so close to escaping this death trap! Breanna thought in annoyance.

A new idea sprung to Breanna's mind: kick her legs out and essentially swim out of the mud. However, it only loosened the mud under her, allowing her to sink to her neck. NO! I REFUSE! I WILL NOT DROWN IN THIS BOG TODAY! Breanna thought in defiance. But, angry thoughts did nothing for her, as the mud reached her chin.

Breanna screamed one last time for help, but again there was no reply. I... I can't believe it! I'm going to drown in this mud, and there's nothing I can do about it! Breanna thought. She took one last look at the beautiful forest that surrounded her and closed her eyes. She took one last big breath and sank under the hungry mud. This is it....

She tried to hold her breath for as long as possible, but eventually, she gave herself to the mud, releasing her last breath out into the world. The mud eagerly replaced the air in her lungs, and as Breanna felt herself start to fade away, her final thought was: If only I hadn't seen that bird... Oh well... life goes on.... at least, for everyone except me. And with that, Breanna's mind went dark. The end.


Well, this story has been one of my favorites to write. It's been quite some time since I wrote a chest wader story. This story is also inspired by true events. Sometime in the first half of July, I was on a trip to Oregon, and I found a creek that had some nice mud. I was wearing hip waders, and, unknowing how deep the mud was, I went in, and ended up sinking to my waist without feeling a bottom. Luckily, I had a friend with me, and he used a PVC pipe to get me out, somehow keeping my flooded waders on in the process. Then, a few days ago, I decided to start writing this story based on my experience.

Thanks for reading, 101927700.

[bogbud]

Very strange, first her Arms are stuck in the mud and after that she grabs the branch that is right in Front of her? Why does it give no leverage after it broke? Why did not she use her fishing rod in the first place to stop her from sinking further?
At least she did not poo in her waders. But still too many open questions

[101927700]

Very strange, first her Arms are stuck in the mud and after that she grabs the branch that is right in Front of her? Why does it give no leverage after it broke? Why did not she use her fishing rod in the first place to stop her from sinking further?
At least she did not poo in her waders. But still too many open questions

Alright, answered most of them via editing. As for the branch not giving leverage after breaking... Breanna didn't exactly realize any potential in the branch besides pulling herself upwards.

[Viridian]

Same characters, same waders, same mud, same plot.

I don't want to discourage you from developing as a writer, but you're posting the same thing every week.

[101927700]

Same characters, same waders, same mud, same plot.

I don't want to discourage you from developing as a writer, but you're posting the same thing every week.

Yeah, I guess you're kinda right about that. Which is the reason why my previous story, Bikini Bog Rescue, was in a bikini, not waders.

[Viridian]

But that's not much of a change. I'm not sure if you're realising this yourself, but each one of your stories is a carbon copy of each other with only a few small details changed. You cycle between several characters (Tirah, Breanna, Brylie, Tessa, etc.). Sometimes your characters are in waders, sometimes they aren't. Sometimes they die, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they poop, sometimes they don't. Of your stories as of late, this is literally all of the variation you are putting into your creativity. Changing what a character is wearing, or changing their name, doesn't make a story more original. Even the descriptions of the mud are identical - notice that you always describe the mud "bubbling", and the characters always ask the same questions about dying.

You're following the same template:

1. Name, Age, Clothing
2. Doing something random, then steps into mud
3. Sinks to [body part], bubbles, poo, "I don't wanna die".
4. Somehow gets out or dies.

It's practically the same thing each time. I've mentioned in a previous critique that your writing is becoming lazier. I get the feeling that you're putting *some* effort in putting together your pieces, but your effort seems mostly in going through the motions of writing rather than exploring your creativity.

[101927700]

But that's not much of a change. I'm not sure if you're realising this yourself, but each one of your stories is a carbon copy of each other with only a few small details changed. You cycle between several characters (Tirah, Breanna, Brylie, Tessa, etc.). Sometimes your characters are in waders, sometimes they aren't. Sometimes they die, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they poop, sometimes they don't. Of your stories as of late, this is literally all of the variation you are putting into your creativity. Changing what a character is wearing, or changing their name, doesn't make a story more original. Even the descriptions of the mud are identical - notice that you always describe the mud "bubbling", and the characters always ask the same questions about dying.

You're following the same template:

1. Name, Age, Clothing
2. Doing something random, then steps into mud
3. Sinks to [body part], bubbles, poo, "I don't wanna die".
4. Somehow gets out or dies.

It's practically the same thing each time. I've mentioned in a previous critique that your writing is becoming lazier. I get the feeling that you're putting *some* effort in putting together your pieces, but your effort seems mostly in going through the motions of writing rather than exploring your creativity.

Wow... Now I'm looking at all of my recent stories, and I don't know why I didn't catch that before. Thanks for the feedback.

[bogbud]

Viridian pretty much sums it up.
Just wanted to add that I like the overall scenario of (wader)booted girls in desperate situations very much but I doubt you have even a remote idea how deep mud really behaves when you are stuck and sinking in it.
Go out and play, then write about it

[101927700]

Viridian pretty much sums it up.
Just wanted to add that I like the overall scenario of (wader)booted girls in desperate situations very much but I doubt you have even a remote idea how deep mud really behaves when you are stuck and sinking in it.
Go out and play, then write about it

Interestingly, this story was actually based off of an experience of mine, as I said in the closing paragraph / afterword. But I see your point.

[Jon Smith]

But that's not much of a change. I'm not sure if you're realising this yourself, but each one of your stories is a carbon copy of each other with only a few small details changed. You cycle between several characters (Tirah, Breanna, Brylie, Tessa, etc.). Sometimes your characters are in waders, sometimes they aren't. Sometimes they die, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they poop, sometimes they don't. Of your stories as of late, this is literally all of the variation you are putting into your creativity. Changing what a character is wearing, or changing their name, doesn't make a story more original. Even the descriptions of the mud are identical - notice that you always describe the mud "bubbling", and the characters always ask the same questions about dying.

You're following the same template:

1. Name, Age, Clothing
2. Doing something random, then steps into mud
3. Sinks to [body part], bubbles, poo, "I don't wanna die".
4. Somehow gets out or dies.

It's practically the same thing each time. I've mentioned in a previous critique that your writing is becoming lazier. I get the feeling that you're putting *some* effort in putting together your pieces, but your effort seems mostly in going through the motions of writing rather than exploring your creativity.

I really enjoy his stories. You may be right about the poop though. I really like how he uses waders in his stories, but not like when the endings are so "blood and guts" dramatic like in “listen to your friends” and “big breasts can be deadly”.
I don't like those kind of endings.