The blazing sun beat down relentlessly on the pavment of the desert highway. Nothing but sand as far as the eye could see, save one black GTO flying down the highway, dust spitting up from underneath it's tires. The heatwaves parted on the pavment as the GTO went by, making it look as if it was driving though a river. The window rolled down slowly, spilling out "Sympathy for the Devil". A hand came out and lazly flicked out a cigarette butt. A man sat in the driver's seat. He looked like he had been driving for days, ofcourse he always looked that way. He was more than just a little rough around the edges and hadn't seen a caring hand in many years. An empty bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the seat next to him, along with a battered old cowboy hat. There was an open letter on the dash from a person he called his only reason. She had been gone for a while now, never to return. He had been gone for along time. Home seemed as if it were a dream had years ago. He sometimes thought about the way things used to be, the good old days. It was time to go back now, it had been delayed for way to long. Sounds like the back of a Steven King book dosn't it? I think it's pretty good considering this is like the third time I ever tried to write anything. What do you think?
Yeah I think I know the one you mean, is it that one where he writes And then a big scarey event took place that chewed the ass off a town and all its inhabitants wierded everyone out who saw it?
I like the driving bit, and I can relate to it, because like I've been stuck inside a car for hours? Driving through Elephant & Castle the traffic was horrendous right and then this geeza pulled out without indicating and missed my wing mirror by THIS much! Shocking. You just had to be there. And then he started giving me jip and he was asking for a fat lip, but I just gave him the double Winston, because I couldn't get out because I was trying to avoid the congestion charge. Anyway I know the woman he's married to and she's a real slug. She charges £4.50 for a blow-job and apparently she takes her false teeth out. Anyway the geeza is about 72 and used to bully my dad when he was at school, but that's got nothing to do with it. Oh and then there's the box-junction as you're coming out of the A201. Don't you talk to me about Stephen King's horror. You ain't seen horror till you've been sat at the traffic lights around Newington Butts with double deckers whizzing by left right and centre and cyclists getting their heads ran over. And on top of that the only choice you got is sitting on the tube filling out a sudoku and listening to the ipod like the rest of the goldfish. That's horror.
Truth be told you guys really didn't help at all. Do you have any coments? Is it good, bad, alright or what? Something I could work on to make it better?
The question is are YOU happy with it? All our tastes are different and we could end up giving you the wrong advice, although my advice was very helpful. Have you read it out aloud to yourself yet, to see how it sounds? If you think it's OK, then the next thing to do would be to try it on a family member and see what they think. You have to progress up the ladder with this one and make the adequate changes that your listener tells you. Next, try your best friend. Read it out aloud to them and see what they think. Make the necessary changes again, because the next part will be considerably harder. Try your class. Ask permission from your teacher first, and try reading it to your classmates. Be humble about it and ask for constructive criticism. Don't go in guns blazing like in here, because some of your school colleagues might be sensitive and get offended. After all, you want them to be objective about your work, so that they can help you. Also, be aware that some of the members in THIS forum are over 80 years old! and might have weak hearts, or pacemakers, so try not to have a go at them too much. Next, after you've tried your school and succeeded with your story, the next thing will be to see if it passes the moral mark. Ring up your local Russian Orthodox church, or a rabbi, or a mosque, and ask the priest if he will give you a private audience (You can ring up the Scientologists, but if Tom Cruise is around he might steal your story). This may sound absurd, but by this stage of shaping your story, you will be surprised yourself as to HOW really good it has REALLY got, because people will have been suggesting you all sorts, and your story would have got across far better with you reading it to a live audience. If you can pass through the Russian priest, the rabbi and the imam, then you have almost reached the finish line. Ring up your local radio stations and, being nice, ask them if they can give you a quick spot. You can influence them to let you do it if you do it for free, and tell them that you are doing it to help promote litteracy in deprived areas. Also, joke with them that you'll make them free cups of coffee all day and shit like that, but obviously be careful how much you promise. The last hurdle and ultimate challenge will be an audience with the Pope in Rome at the Vatican.By this stage people will be stopping you in the street for autographs, but the important thing is to meet the Pope, because your story will need that final blessing in order to succeed. If you can make his toes curl, and get yourself excommunicated, then you have a best seller in your hands, at which point we will be asking YOU for advice, and perhaps a loan.
Its a start, dont get me wrong I aint knockin it too much, but its a bit thin like this The bus pulled up at the bustop like a bus pulling up at a bustop and everyone got on. A driver sat in the driver seat but then they alwys do Its a bit thin on description and and impetus
Another important thing to remember is never write on a full stomach, Solaris. Most lethal accidents incurred whilst writing are often due to binge eating and not allowing an appropriate length of time to digest the food before continuing. So remember: eat light, if you want to write.
