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- Topics: Active | Unanswered
- Randall Flagg
- Rep: 139
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
Long story short, I've been working on a book for a long time. I've had contacts with a couple publishers and the people who have read it have said very positive things. I howver have lost interest in it and feel it is unworthy. If some of you would be willing to read a sample of one of my chapters and give honest feedback, I'd be appreciative.
- Randall Flagg
- Rep: 139
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
Tim sat down and lit another smoke. To him, there was nothing finer than a Marlboro red once the buzz set in. He had already gone through half a pack as well as four beers in the hour he had been on the prowl. He only had twenty dollars in his pocket, though he could easily change that if need be. But he knew soon enough the beers would be free and he could always bum a smoke off one of the regulars. He sat alone (although that would soon change) because the “loner” appeal gave him an edge to the women he bedded.
He had just put a few dollars into the jukebox and his first Johnny Cash song was starting. Cocaine Blues was a song he started with often. Somehow the man in black made his job easier. It gave him condolence and comfort, something he thrived on while working his magic. Tonight wasn’t the first night Tim took advantage of a lonely girl. To the contrary, he was quite seasoned at it.
Tim took a sadistic pride in his conquests. He had lost count of how many women he had been with, although that could as easily have been chalked up to the alcohol rather than the long list of girls. In many ways the booze made his life easier. He remembered the old frat-boy rationalization that “if you don’t remember it, it didn’t happen.” Even the most veteran creeps have a conscience and his blurred memory of most of his lays made it that much easier on what little of his conscience may have remained after his “rebirth” so many years ago. After all, he didn’t force these girls to fuck him. They spread their legs all too easy and willingly. The booze served as an accomplice, it made his job all that much easier. When you came down to it, all he did was say the right thing at the right time and the alcohol and their lust did the rest. Indeed, he was no more accountable for their betrayal than Budweiser and the men who ignored them; at least that’s what he told himself when he reflected upon what little humanity he retained. This angered him in some regard because this thought or understanding cheated him of his goal and lessened his own ego that had become insurmountable. No, he was doing his master’s work and he enjoyed doing so. The means or the how were irrelevant in the big picture. That he was affecting the world around him and ultimately the one who betrayed him was good enough.
Tim squinted as he stared at the Coors Light sign hanging above the bar. The damn sign’s lower light flickered in a fashion that reminded him of the Japanese anime that was known to induce seizures in the moronic children (and adults) who viewed it. If he stared at it long enough he’d feel as though someone was using a drill inside his skull. He hated that feeling and wished the fucking owner would fix it or get rid of it. It’s not as if Al wasn’t making a killing off this hole in the wall. He had twenty to thirty regulars most nights and at least ten more unknowns would come in every day. Tim knew Al went the extra step and sold watered down whiskey and filled the nicer selections up with cheap shit that only winos and college kids would buy. But at the end of the day it didn’t really matter the quality of the booze the patrons drank. They came here to get drunk and forget, if only for a short while, their pitiful and meaningless lives. Al’s bar was refuge to the undesirables who clean and put up with the shit that no one else dares to do. It was at Al’s that they too could forget themselves just as society had done. That suited Tim just fine. Because you can never really hit rock bottom. It can always get a little bit worse. The self-help books and talk shows may want to tell you differently, but Tim knew just as well as anyone else that life can always get a little bit worse. And what was better than elevating someone out of their misery, to give them hope and a glimpse of happiness only to strip it all away and send them crashing down harder and lower than they had ever been before.
Tim ordered another beer and casually scanned the bar. He had taken notice of four girls sitting by the juke box. They were dressed in tight shirts with their stomachs exposed. The girls appeared to be in their early twenties and were well tanned. He appreciated the girls who took time to stay in shape and take care of themselves. He maybe even respected them to an extent because they didn’t hide who they were and what they were after. One of them wore a jean skirt with a white top while two others had very low-cut black skirts with matching blue tops. He hadn’t realized it at first; he had been focused on getting Cash on the speakers. The two in the black skirts were identical twins. They resembled a character he often saw on TV, but who it was he just couldn’t place it. The fourth girl wore a strapless, pink shirt with very seductive, form-fitting jeans. These were the kind of girls he would have loved to fuck in the distant past. He had scored with one a time or two in his day, but that was the exception, not the rule. These girls wouldn’t fulfill his fun time. You can’t make a whore feel more like a whore. No, these girls served purely as eye-candy and on the rare occasion he had an urge to just fuck, he could get much hotter girls than these. His orgasm was realized in the misery and self-loathing that quickly followed the night of bliss that the women who shared his bed suffered.
Without even really thinking about it he wrote off the idea of trying with them. Every guy knew that finding a woman to fuck was like a lion hunting gazelle. Women had strength in numbers and it’s always best to look for the weak one that has strayed from the pack for your kill; even better if you can heal their wounds before you consume them. No, he would find someone soon enough, he always did. He lit another cigarette and sipped his beer when he saw her. A smirk slowly formed on his face as he found his sick gazelle. Soon her wounds would be healed if only for a short time. He sang along to the words on the jukebox.
When I was arrested I was dressed in black
They put me on a train and they took me back
Had no friends for to post my bail
They slapped my dried up carcass in the county jail
*****
Jessica had just gotten off work and decided to stop in for a drink. She couldn’t explain it if you asked her, but she felt an eerie sensation when she came to Al’s. Although at the height of the sensation she had knots in her stomach, a stronger force always imposed itself negating her uneasiness. This stronger force reminded her of simpler times, a place she had often been but long absent. Similar to meeting a childhood friend you once knew intimately, but had not spoken to in years - you know that the person is not the same child you shared stories and adventures with, but you still have that deep rooted sense of familiarity.
It was nice to get out every once in a while. It had been nearly nine months since David and her had broken their engagement and she had spent most of the past six months living as a robot. Two months ago, on one of the few occasions when Jessica left the house without necessity, Jessica had seemingly stumbled into Al’s as if she was guided there. She had started out just going for a walk, remembering David and the love they shared when she found herself standing outside Al’s and felt an urge – no – a command to go in.
Jessica had been drawn back to Al’s a few times over the past couple of months. Nothing exciting had happened there, the drinks were lousy and the people were not friendly to say the least. She would be driving home from work and fate or destiny would lead her to Al’s. Slowly she had begun to forget about David, but the hole left in her soul was not filled with love or hope, she simply became numb.
Jessica had been on shift in the ER when the family had come in. It broke her heart to see those little girls in that condition. The Doctor quickly realized nothing could be done to save them and Jessica took some comfort in knowing it was probably better for them to have died. Being disfigured and traumatized at the loss of parents was no way to go through life.
Witnesses had said some goddamn motorcyclists had run them off the road. The paramedics had rushed in the two little girls. They had almost knocked Jessica over as they burst into the emergency entrance. It was the little one named Sheila that had broken her heart. “I want my mommy” the four-year old had cried out. Sheila’s older sister Ashley was already dead by the time they got to the hospital. Sheila’s entire left side of her face appeared missing and Jessica couldn’t be sure where the tears ended and the blood began. The small girl was exhausted and Jessica had to believe on some level that exhaustion was her mind telling her body to just give up now and forego the pain. The little girl was quickly sedated as they put her in ICU and at that moment baby Sheila began her journey of everlasting silence. Her body had held on for a few more hours but the injuries she sustained in the crash were just too much for her small, fragile body. Jessica had been assisting the doctor when he called it and tried to console the people in the room.
It’s not as if Jessica hadn’t stared death in the face before, she did so on a daily basis. No matter how many times one sees death, nothing can prepare you for the death of a small child. She supposed one had to lose part of their humanity to work in that environment, but being calloused towards children, especially ones as innocent and young as little Sheila was something she could never become.
Jessica wanted nothing more than to be numb from watching that sweet, young child die. Jessica knew where to go. Jessica found an empty seat at the bar and sat down. She quickly surveyed the room to see if anyone she knew might happen to be there. She knew it wasn’t very likely because she hadn’t had real friends in quite some time. Her only contact with the outside world were the girls which whom she worked with. They were all a few years younger and none of them married. Because Jessica was engaged and would never accompany them on a girl’s night out, they had shunned her and only spoke in a professional manner.
As she suspected, she saw no one she knew. Jessica casually removed a few dollars from her purse and tried to make eye contact with the bartender. Al took notice of the pretty young lady and waddled over to her.
“I’ll have a Rolling Rock”, Jessica said.
Al grabbed a bottle from underneath the counter, twisted the cap off and laid the beer in front of her. The knots began to tighten in her stomach as if something wasn’t right about this place. She relaxed though when something inside of her told her this is where she belonged. Jessica took a drink from her bottle and was already forgetting what happened at the hospital today. Al’s place was working its magic and she again remembered why she had continued to come to this place. Time seemed to stand still at Al’s and any baggage or guilt that your had on your back was left at the door when you stepped inside.
Jessica took in the scenery and was enjoying the Johnny Cash song playing over the speakers. She opened her purse and removed a pack of Camel Lights, withdrew a cigarette and lit it.
“Can I borrow that lighter” asked a man who had sat down two stools over from her.
A bit startled, Jessica handed him the lighter. She realized he already had a lit cigarette and asked why he had borrowed hers.
“I have your interest now that I have something that is yours,” the man said.
Tim gave Jessica a smile that she could only describe as adorable. She couldn’t have held back her own smile even if she had tried. Tim moved over a stool so that he was sitting right next to her.
“I haven’t seen you in here before and I know almost everyone” he said.
“I’ve been here a few times, it seems like a nice place”, said Jessica.
“Yea, there’s something about this place that makes you feel at home, like you’ve always been here” Tim replied.
Jessica felt an instant attraction to Tim. He was tall, had deep blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair that suited him well. He didn’t look anything like she expected in a place like this. An awkward silence remained between them for a few moments. Jessica looked at Tim and smiled. Tim chuckled, smiled back.
“What?”
“I just haven’t talked to anyone in a social setting in a long time. It’s nice to have someone to just enjoy their company and talk with.”
“We haven’t talked that much yet. You might be giving me too much credit.” Tim already knew how this was going to play out. He had seduced women like Jessica far too many times and far longer than anyone would believe. That was part of his charm though. He came off as non-threatening and although you’d have no problem believing this was a guy who knew his way around the bedroom he didn’t have the aura of a player. This was Tim’s hobby – one of his many powers; creating a special trust and intimacy with women who needed and desired it the most.
“So tell me why I should stay here and talk to you. What makes you so special?”
“If I could answer that than maybe David wouldn’t have ignored me. I guess I’m just like everyone else. Tonight I was just hoping to escape from it all if only for a little while.”
In Tim’s mind, he was already five steps ahead of her. This was Tim’s version of chess and like any great chess player; you always need to be a few steps ahead of your opponent. It makes it even easier when you’re playing against someone who hardly qualifies as even an amateur.
“David was a dick” Tim said with a smile. And in that moment he had her. It had been that easy. “You’re not like everyone else. I could tell you that upfront. Do you think I’d be talking to you if I thought it was going to be the same old get to know you shit that spews out of everyone’s mouth. I can see the true person beneath the mask, that’s a special gift of mine. I know you’re a beautiful person with great hopes and dreams. You work hard for your money and once loved greatly. That love betrayed you as it once betrayed me and now you desperately seek to fill the void that was once fulfilled by that special someone. You know true pain and torment Jessica. Everyone else here lives dull and boring lives; lives without any purpose or direction. That’s why you come to this bar, to escape that stagnant pain that lingers here” and he tapped the center of his chest. “I know that you’re real and full of life. You’ve experienced the bitter and the sweet and are capable of fully appreciating the ecstasy that is possible when two souls unite. You stay awake at night longing for the day when you can feel that overwhelming emotion of love where you realize it’s just not you in this world and know that you are truly connected to another human being. No Jessica, you’re not like everyone else and David is a fool.”
Jessica stared into his eyes. He had read her perfectly without her so much as really saying a word. She was different and that is what made it hurt so much more. Everyone else was either happy or at least content with their situation. She wasn’t and knew that this distinguished her from all the other’s she knew. At times she often wondered if that sense of longing and refusal to accept her misery wasn’t more painful than the loss of her lover. She would never know for sure and you couldn’t disconnect the two so it didn’t really matter when you got right down to it.
Now after months of self inflicted torture she was with someone who in just a few moments had made a true connection with her. Though Al’s had silenced that nagging emptiness within, it nor anything else had never filled it. With Tim she felt that possible and for the first time in nine months she begin to feel alive. If he could make her feel this good in just a few, short moments her mind asked how could he make her feel if she stayed a while longer?
Jessica lowered her eyes from his and gave his whole body a slow and purposeful look over. Her eyes have special attention to his groin before slowly making their way back to his. Her finger began to twist in her hair as she asked “So what do I owe you for the psychoanalysis Dr. Freud?” with a smile.
“Psychoanalysis is for people who can’t get over the fact they want to fuck their mother. You don’t strike me as the type. I call it as I see it. Words…the words are free, a gift to a friend. Although my beer is getting a little warm. How about you get me a cold one from one friend to another.”
Jessica nodded her head impressed and motioned Al over. Freud was one of the mandatory subjects she took in Psych 101 while in nursing school and had thought it all bullshit. That fact that most of academia had done the same since then had done little to reassure her of the validity of psychology. Knowing that the majority of Psychology majors were self righteous, pompous assholes who believed they had the world figured out and could fix every simple minded fool who came in their office had closed that door long ago.
Tim was good, damn good. By only speaking a few words he was able to evoke strong emotions and memories from better days past when Jessica felt she had a grip on life. Her problem with Psychology is that it told you something was wrong with you if you weren’t happy. She had seen plenty of people drug into the ER after an overdose or attempted suicide swarmed by shrinks who then prescribed medication that made sure they never felt anything again. People aren’t supposed to be happy all the time. They’re supposed to be sad sometimes she screamed in her head. That’s life, that is living. Feeling lets you know you’re alive. An entire business of professionals (if that’s what they wanted to call themselves) dedicated to medicating society and attempting to remove the very emotions that make us human was murder to Jessica. She realized that this is what was driving her crazy inside. She could cope with being unhappy, but she was numb. She felt nothing. That wasn’t human and at times she wondered if she was still alive. She hadn’t been able to grasp or articulate this reality until now and it all hit her like a ton of bricks. Her body was flooded with a plethora of emotions and the numbness that had been her bane of existence was no longer there. She was alive again and this man for which she had only known a few minutes had been the one to resurrect her from the dead.
“You seem to have me figured out Dr. Freud. Mind enlightening me to what’s going on behind those gorgeous blue eyes?”
“That my dear would require more time than either of us have and me spilling the beans now takes away the fun of reading the book yourself. Name’s Tim by the way. Freud was a pedophile and a bit uptight for my taste” and stuck out his hand.
“Well friend, I’m Jessica and I owe you a beer. Pleasure to me your acquaintance” and her hand met his. Whatever feelings of being revitalized their first words had sparked were multiplied by 10 when his hand grasped hers. She felt a sensation similar to the most mind blowing orgasm she could imagine overwhelm her. Tim withdrew his hand from their shake and she maintained her composure but her heart beat as if she had just sprinted 300 yards.
Al had waddled his way over and gave an inquisitive look saying “What do you need from me?”
“It looks like my friend Tim here needs another..(she glanced at his bottle)..Budweiser.”
“You need another Rollin Rock?” Al asked as he moved toward the cooler.
“No thanks” she replied.
They stared at each other for a few moments until Al laid a fresh Budweiser in front of Tim. Tim took a swing from the rest of his warm beer and laid it next to his new one. He grabbed his pack of smokes from his front jacket pocket and retrieved a cigarette. He began to put the pack back in his pocket, hesitated and then pointed the pack towards Jessica.
“Smoke?”
“Cowboy killers, eh? A little too much for me.” Jessica withdrew her pack of Camel Lights from her purse and realized that Tim still had her lighter.
“Can I have my lighter back please?”
“Not just yet. You’ll have to stay with me as long as I have it. And if you’re going to smoke, you might as well go all the way instead of half-assin’ it. Smoking anything else is like breathing dirty air. Try one of these badboys” and pulled a cigarette from his pack and handed it to her.
Jessica hesitated a moment and then placed her own cigarette into her pack. She placed her fingers on the cigarette from his outstretched hand, paused, and took it from him. Tim reached into his pocket and retrieved his Zippo. Jessica admired it because it was truly a beautiful lighter and looked to be ancient. It had some rune engraved on its silver plated surface. She would have asked him what it meant but its novelty and her awareness of it disappeared from her mind as quickly as it had come. Tim lit his cigarette first and then lit hers. She inhaled deeply and was surprised at how much stronger this was than her normal brand. She had smoked regular cigarettes before and at some level had known these would be a tad harsher than her own but was still none the less surprised at the potency of this particular cigarette. She felt light headed for a moment as the nicotine entered her system.
“For someone who takes so much pride in his brand of smoke, I’d expect you to be drinking a better beer than Budweiser. Though I must say this cigarette doesn’t fuck around and certainly gets to the point rather quickly.”
“I’m not trying to be refined or smoke or drink to look cool. I drink Budweiser because it does its job just as well as those smokes do. It doesn’t try to pretty itself up with colorful labels or a unique design. It’s made to get you fucked up and getting fucked up is what I want to be right now. If I wanted a special taste or color I’d scoop a cup of piss out of the urinal and call it micro-brewed” Tim said through a smile.
Jessica laughed with embarrassment at the audacity and crudeness of Tim’s words. Though the color in her cheeks did all the speaking for her in terms of her attraction for him. “And here I was trying to come across as a nice girl and keep it PG. You go straight for the R rating don’t you? Social norms and customs must not mean much to you” she said in jest as she brushed her hand across his arms.
Tim looked down at her hand that was still lightly caressing his arm and looked back up into her eyes. “Does this look like the face of someone who gives a fuck?” he said through a smirk that indicated his intentions and told her everything she wanted to know about him at this moment in time.
Another moment of silence was shared between them before Tim broke it. “Do you want to kiss me?” he asked.
Jessica gasped in shock but quickly relaxed and looked at him without saying a word. “That’s what I thought” he said. Tim took one more drag from his cigarette, laid it on the ash tray and leaned in to give Jessica a kiss. He hesitated and relished this moment. This is the last time in her life that she would be innocent. She’d experience pleasure unlike anything before very shortly and she’d have hope and happiness too. But a kiss is the 2nd most intimate connection two people can make and he’d be performing the 1st in the near future.
There was a time when a kiss was a sacred embrace that he shared only with those he loved. And there had only been one woman he had ever truly loved. But those days were long ago, longer than you’d believe at this point in the story and Tim isn’t the same man he was then. Time worked differently for Tim and in a few seconds he reflected on the many, many women he had run this same routine on. It was all so very simple and he is was on auto-pilot. He could evoke any emotion he wanted from at the snap of a finger. After all, emotions at their root form are just chemical reactions within the brain. Those chemical reactions at their base are nothing more than a specific composition of molecules. Tim had been given the gift of controlling matter to a certain extent, nothing nearly as powerful as His master’s, but he could certainly influence the minds and perceptions of anyone he liked. That was the luxury of possessing true free will and no longer being a slave to the parameters of cause and effect that everyone else was chained to – partially at least. There was a time when Tim still retained part of his conscience and at times felt guilt over his involvement in bringing misery to those he touched. In the beginning he had often questioned if not regretted his decision to go down this path. But as time wears down a mountain, so does time wear down our hearts. The faces of the women he had hurt flashed before his eyes. There was no reason to remember a unique one because in the end they were all the same. They longed to be loved because they had loved and lost that love. The faces changed but the end was always the same; utter despair and agony on their part followed by a sadistic pleasure and pride on his.
Their lips connected and a surge of energy jolted through Jessica’s body. She had heard people reference the concept of pure and total pleasure but was sure no one had experienced it in the dramatic manner to which she was currently privy too. When she had been with David she had a sense of total nirvana that is often accompanied when one is first in love with someone. Where her lips met with his she had felt a feeling that resembled her current experience. She had longed for those days and often lie awake at night praying for a day when that feeling would return. That feeling had not only finally returned, but returned 10 fold.
Tim’s toungue entered her mouth and slowly massaged her own toungue increasing the sensation immensely. She had not thought this possible when they first embraced each other, but was soon realizing that there was no end in sight to how well Tim could make her feel. His hand casually grazed her breast and then returned to her hip to pull her in tighter. Just when she thought to herself that she could live in this moment forever, Tim withdrew from the kiss.
Staring into her eyes with a smirk that was unqiuely his, he said “I guess the answer was yes.” Tim leaned back and withdrew from the comfort zone that is wholly American. He grabbed his bottle and took a long swig from it. He causually repositioned his body towards the counter. Jessica was still in shock from the kiss when she realized the possibility that he might leave her. His sudden and disinterested withdrawl had scared her. She couldn’t bear the thought of having such strong feelings towards another person and being rejected again.
As if Tim could read her mind she thought, Tim turned around and said “Shall we adjourn to your place and get to know each other a little better?”
A momentus amount of relief fell over her as she realized that true happiness was still possible. Jessica slowly mover her hand over his and stood up. Her hand grasped his as she grabbed her purse and led Tim towards the door. Just touching him again brought back echos of the intensity she had felt just moments before. In such a short period of time she had been on an emotional roller coaster that had the highest peeks one could imagine.
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
It's cool, but you need to vary the way you structure your paragraphs more. It feels like almost every paragraph starts out with " [Person] [performed some action] while [random description of situation]". If you know what I mean... I see a lot of "Tim was..." and "Jessica started to..." type descriptions.
I'll read it more in-depth when I'm home, it seems interesting enough 
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
Honestly, it lacks dialogue.. It's alot of narrative, especially in the beginning. I realize Tim is alone so not really talking to anyone, but I think it goes 15 paragraphs until Jessica breaks the silence saying "I'll have a Rolling Rock". I may be wrong on that. But also, the narrator tells us alot about the characters in bulk, for instance the whole ER event with Jessica. Instead of narrating it, try telling it live-time, with conversations, dialogue, conversations etc.. Otherwise, tell little spits about it here & there. But ultimately, imho it makes Tim kindof a psycho/creepy dude, like schytzophrenic with all the thinking & voices going on in his head and no talking.
Not trying to knock it, just some little advice from me. Just my humble opinion, I guess I'm a fan of reading conversation.
- the_real_jessica
- Rep: 22
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
Does she end up fry panning his head for being such a cold dork ?
- the_real_jessica
- Rep: 22
Re: Need your opinions on my writing
Basically, i need to re read it a few times and i'm at work, but seems good.
On the writing itself, i'll see.
Right now, it's the story i read.
Re writing is the easiest part really.
Styling it.
But then, not too much or it will become just another, like zillions of others.
What you need is consistency and fluency in the writing, but i have to work on that quite a bit in my head.
Right now, as i said, i concentrate on the story.
I'll print it and re read it ..
