First time trying to write... this may be embarrassing

Cafe Society
1

I knew what the lineup was. The heads didn’t know, so I advanced my own ideas anyway. The crash, not withstanding my own hangover, was going to happen anyway.

“You failed me, you fuck!” She stormed into my office and sat down with a swift puff of skirt. This one was serious; she didn’t even ask where she could sit. She dropped her bag by her side.

"My dear, you’re talented. You’ve shown great enthusiasm in my class and are capable of original thought.

Your thesis, outside of class, is fantastic, but tough to get by the committee. I can’t forward you you on this. You didn’t put in the work."

I couldn’t see her eyes as she leaned forward. It didn’t matter as all of my spare neurons from the night before were moving forward slowly stabbing my face. A splash of hair covered her face.

She was judiciously silent for a moment as if picking the right words. She lifted her head, blue eyes blazing, “Your final project was impossible!”

Nice legs, great tits, get out. My temples were throbbing, my skin feeling to tighten.

“It’s not. I read your submission. Ok…you have some of the major legwork done, but your calculations were incorrect.”

She didn’t hear what I had to say, almost cutting me off in mid-sentence, “We had two fucking engineer majors on our team and they couldn’t figure out the math!”

2

Seems okay. Certainly competent. The third and fourth paragraph need to be joined into one, and the paragraphs are a bit short.

It needs more of an introduction, to set the scene.

The first paragraph is unclear. It doesn’t work as an introduction. What is the lineup, and who are the heads? I’d delete that paragraph entirely, and I’d build on the new first paragraph with some introduction. There’s a kind of “noir” or “private dick” tone to this, and I’d make more of that.

You’re a million light-years ahead of where I was when I first sat down and tried to write! I didn’t know what paragraphs were for, so my whole effort came out in one big unformatted blort. From here on in, it’s just wordcount. The more you write, the better you’ll get at it.

Ray Bradbury once said that the first million words anyone writes are garbage. I really, really hate him for being right about that.

(Also, there’s no guarantee that anything one writes after those first million words aren’t going to be garbage.)

So…create garbage! Write, and write, and write some more. Ten years later, you’ll look back at in and bewoe how bad it is…but that’s the only way forward. Musicians gotta practice their scales; writers gotta create their own skills by writing.

Have fun! When you make your first sale, be sure to spend some of the money on something you don’t need!

3

I’ll give it a try.

I don’t understand the first sentence but you do give us some info—he’s got a hangover.

Second sentence establishes where-takes-place, which is good. Could you somehow combine those two? You’re right not to start with dialogue but remember, all rules are meant to be broken so do what feels right.

“my dear” makes him sound old and pompous. Is that what you want to convey?

The 5th sentence is my favorite; I like the unusual images.

In 6th, pick either “judiciously” or “as if picking the right words.” I don’t think you need both.

I don’t understand “my skin feeling to tighten.”

Last sentence cut “almost”, it weakens the action.

Can’t remember exactly where you used “blazing” but with your imaginative use of words, I bet you can come up with a less often used one.

A lot of flouncy anger going on here. You do want conflict but it doesn’t have to be the “swashbuckling” kind. Do you know what I mean? Sometimes the side-eye is more hurtful than a slap.

If this is your first effort I’d say the framework is shaky but I like the décor.

:slight_smile:

4

Now that’s a writer! :smiley:

5

Thank you so much you guys. My first time doing this and I hope it stabs in the right places. I don’t know where it’s going but for some reason I have a time travel idea that won’t let me sleep.

6

“Sat down with a swift puff of skirt”

That is good writing! Love it!

7

<a little scared blushing going on here.

8

I knew what the student lineup was. My brain acknowleged I was a professor of something…

something… UNIVERSITY… profound… something important. My stomach and bowels were sludging. I

stared at nothing.

“You failed me, you fuck!” She stormed into my office and sat down with a swift puff of skirt. This one was

serious; she didn’t even ask where she could sit. She dropped her bag by her side.

"You’re talented, noone can argue that.You’ve shown great enthustianm in my class and are capable of original

thought. Your thesis, outside of class, is fantastic, but tough to get by the comiteee. I can’t forward you you on

this. You didn’t put in the work."

I couldn’t see her eyes as she leaned forward. It didn’t matter as all of my spare neurons from the night before

were slowly stabbing my face. A splash of hair covered her face.

She was judiciously silent for a moment. She lifted her head, blue eyes blazing, "Your final project was

impossible!"

Nice legs, great tits, get out. My temples were throbbing, my skin was feeling too tight.

“Ok, you have some of the major legwork done, but your calculations were incorrect.”

She didn’t hear what I had to say, almost cutting me off in mid-sentence, "We had two fucking engineer majors

on our team and they couldn’t figure out the math!"

I shifted nervously, crossing my legs. "Talk to the TA. I can squeeze you by based on some of the initial work

you’ve done."

She relaxed a bit, studying me. “It smells like booze in here.”

9

I like the style. Good start, keep going.

10

Thanks man. This writing shit is harder than it looks.

11

Recently read a quote: Writing is harder for a writer than for anyone else.

12

Are my changes ok?

13

I don’t believe that. That can’t be.

14

He stepped into the water. He was cautious about it. Feet first. There was no smell yet, not the killing kind. The sky and stars were pleasing to Him so he stepped further. Pleased, he waded up to his chest.

15

First of all, there is nothing wrong with your writing that more writing won’t fix.

Second of all, about this showing us what you’re doing when you admit you’re a beginner: Don’t.

Let’s think about this a minute. Suppose you started taking piano lessons and after the first couple of lessons you went, say, into a bar with a piano and started playing something. When you really haven’t practiced that much.

There are some people of course who would encourage you, give you all sorts of props for having the courage to come out there and perform when you didn’t have the basics, and all of that stuff. But there will be other people who will say, with the best of intentions, that you need to do your chords different, or you’re holding your hands all wrong, or that you really are a honky-tonk player more than a classical player and you should go this direction, or that you need to do a bunch of Czerny exercises before you go any further, or, you know, make these changes or that. All good stuff, but if it’s really that early in your career, it can push you into a direction you wouldn’t naturally go, or stop you altogether because it sounds too daunting. (Hi, Czerny exercises.)

A lot of people in the bar won’t even know what the hell they’re talking about, just what they think sounds good.

Just for example, you have a time travel idea that won’t let you sleep. You also have a puff of skirt that people have praised. The natural thing is for you to say, “Okay, this part was good, puff of skirt, come on brain, produce more stuff like that,” when you might ought to be telling your brain to finish up the time travel idea and work that out through its climax.

Third, yeah, Ray Bradbury was right. I think most of my first million words were news stories so nobody cared that they were garbage, but sadly, if no one cares if it’s garbage it only counts about half, at most.

16

And was promptly eaten by a fucking narwhal.

17

Thank you. This is all good stuff that I have to sift through. She wore the shirt like a curtain. No one could see her while she read, head tucked down.

18

Sad, but very, very often true. Many great writers have spoken of how they have a drawer full of their oldest stuff, stuff they would never show to anyone, but which they also can’t bring themselves to throw away.

Grin! I know exactly the feeling!

Seriously, I like the way you’re making your narrator into a bit of a shit. Looking at the girl’s breasts, having open booze in his office – this is actually fairly advanced characterization. Most really raw beginners follow a “Mary Sue” kind of perfect little buttercup idealized paragon (barf!) characterization for their protagonists, but expressing the story from the viewpoint of a stinkard – that’s ambitious! This is the part I like most about your story.

(Roger Zelazny’s sf and fantasy stories quite often had a rotter for the first-person narrator. I’ve done only a very few first-person stories, but when I do try them, I, too, like my narrator to be a bit of a puke.)

19

Not true. I have written no more than a couple of thousand words and at least twenty three of them were not garbage.

20

The first puff was obligatory. He knew that even as he stared down at his shattered leg. He calmly regarded his useless penis…