I am seriously wondering if it is wrong of me to mix past and present the way I am mixing it. I am wondering if it in any ways is wrong or confusing. To me it just seems natural to write actions scenes in present tense.
Below is an example of my writing. Please tell me if you think it’s Okay to be writing in this manner????
(The ‘Kiss’um’mak’ and ‘Ahul’man’juke’ in the text are Arabic profanities, like ‘**** you mother****er’ etc. And the ‘TACK, TACK, TACK’ are noise coming from backgammon board.)
The socks are neatly put on so they fit perfectly. The old fighter continues his preparations. Shaft stands up and proceeds to his wardrobe. With stoic calmness he chooses a pair of tight blue jeans, a tight red T-shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a pair of brand new white sneakers so he can stand firmly on the battleground. Then he straps on a leather belt. The leather belt is accompanied by his beloved old Greek iron chain that just fits in a snap around his waist. The Hook at one end of the chain grabs a ring at the other end so it quickly can be detached and used as a nasty weapon in close combat.
Shaft finds his 9mm Browning semi-automatic pistol on top of the bar in the living room and puts it in his belt. Then he chooses the right pair of sunglasses for the occasion and puts them on in a way that only he, Schwarzenegger and the other He-Man heroes can do it. And this is not some Hollywood fantasy Box Office movie, no this is a real life person in flesh and blood, this is Dr. Shaft Al-Bundy and he is ready for action, and I **** you not, he is on his way into a real life battle if necessary!
Once Dr. Shaft is up on the street he quickly locates the balcony where the old gentlemen are sitting and enjoying themselves. ‘TACK, TACK, TACK’ and before the wife and kids have time to react Dr. Shaft has forced his way out onto the balcony where he immediately starts shouting, waving his arms aggressively as he cocks his Browning and hits the old men on the back of their heads with an open hand. Not hard in a damaging way, but enough to get his messages through if the old gentlemen should consider trying to fight him off.
The Backgammon board with all its checkers flies over the balcony as Shaft fires five rapid shots into the air with his 9mm Browning. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Everybody nearby in the neighbourhood stops with whatever they are doing and observes in awe what is going on up on the third floor balcony. Those who knows who Dr. Shaft is, looks away and continues with their business. Among them a local police officer on the street who just continues his walk back to the local police station.
Shaft is swearing at the old gentlemen, cursing them to hell, reminding them that if they ever again will deprive him his divine sleep, he will kill them and their entire families! This is HIS neighbourhood and if they don’t like it here they can **** off back to whatever graveyard their ancestors are buried in.
‘Kiss’um’mak’ this and ‘kiss’um’mak’ that. ‘Ahul’man’juke’ one thing and ‘ahul’man’juke’ another. Some of the kids in the apartment might just have learned some new profanities on that hot afternoon in Damascus. No one spoke a word against Dr. Shaft Al-Bundy. They knew who he was, they knew about his powerful connections. After being sure that his message got through, Dr. Shaft left the apartment as nothing had ever happened and a few minutes later he was again fast asleep, dreaming of young women and ancient weapons. ‘Me Tarzan, You Jane.’
Or maybe the following is an better example of how I sometimes mix past and present tenses:
The taxi driver turns his back to Dr. Shaft with great arrogance and leans over the newly polished roof of the dark-blue Mazda 929 and examines the plastic card with the imprinted photograph. In his agitated mind he is cursing in a mumbling way at this weird little man with the ugly sunglasses. He begins to wonder why this Dr. Shaft Al-Bundy also is wearing the same sunglasses in the photo on his driver’s license.
The name ‘Al-Bundy’ is ringing some sort of bell deep inside the memory bank of the taxi driver’s brain. Shaft Al-Bundy, the taxi driver thinks to himself, this is really strange, could this be the same Al-Bundy….. SLAM-BANG, no more thinking for the taxi driver that day!
Shaft had already taken a good hold of him and smashed his head straight down into the roof of the car with such force that his nose now was squeezed halfway into his skull. Blood everywhere. Smashing someone’s nose always generates a lot of blood. Now it was clear that Dr. Shaft had loosened his tongue and retorted the taxi driver.
‘Kiss’ach’tak arrsa, kiss’um’mak be’eri, ahul’man’juke, bidi’nik a’buk arras,’ the words were flowing from the mouth of Dr. Shaft like a poem of anger and madness with an unimaginable odious voice.
He was repeatedly smashing his head into the roof of his car while the taxi driver feverishly and in severe pain gasped for breath in an abundance of blood, broken teeth and a fractured jaw. Shaft let go his hold of him and is kicking the taxi driver recklessly as he slides down on the tarmac and finally lies there barely moving. The taxi driver's body only moves now and then in convulsions, but he is no longer conscious.
Just as abruptly as he started Shaft stops his acts of violence again. He corrects his short-sleeved shirt, bends down and rips off a big chunk of the taxi driver's T-shirt from his back.
In anger and with hectic movements Shaft gets most of the blood wiped off from the roof of his car and then he throws the bloody ‘rag’ back onto the head of the taxi driver. Shaft nicely picks up his driver’s license and gets back into his car. Shaft turns the car’s engine back on and reverses it a bit to get it free from the taxi that is blocking most of the street.