Posted on 08/17/2006 8:36:45 PM PDT by Number57
I've had this story worked out in my mind for going on twenty years. 1989. But now... I am stuck. I started a book based on it, but I'm no writer, obviously. I constantly re-read and edit, and re-read and edit more.
Probably because I've posted part of the story on sites that critique writing.
Anyway. I've hit a wall. A large brick wall. I've since stopped editing my own stuff, but try as I might, I can't write another chapter that I'm okay with. How do you, in your experience, get past it? I'll appreciate any help anyone can offer.
James Ellroy does some good stuff regarding LA cops...when he doesn't get carried away.
Begin your next chapter with the line, "It was a dark and stormy night..."
Next time I'll read a little further into the thread and not become the 36th redundant poster.
Is that the best you can do? Looks like it was written by a twelve year old. Thirteen maybe, but no older than thirteen and a half.
I think as a critic I would have to say that it lacks character development. You also misspelled "can". You also misused "unrequited".
Let's see if we can improve on it.
Marlowe had laid the gauntlet down. There was the challenge, the line drawn in the sand, the dare, the double dare, the double double dare. "Ok, Nopardons," he said sarcastically, "put up or shut up. Give us a paragraph."
Nopardons tried to look unfazed, but small barely perceptible beads of sweat began appearing conspicuously on her forehead. "Come on Nopardons, everyone is watching. Can you do it?" Marlowe asked with firm determination in his voice. "Can you write a paragraph of fictional prose that is better than what Number57 has written?"
By this time Nopardons was visibly shaken. "Of course I cam," she stammered, nervously confusing her "n"s with "m"s. "But you'll just have to keep on playing your childish game, because I won't satisfy your unrequited demands."
"Unrequited demands, huh?" Marlowe muttered under his breath. "Did you pull that out of a thesaurus... or did you perhaps pull that out of some other part of your anatomy?"
Nopardons suddenly looked as if she had swallowed a bee. She had that "we are not amused" look upon her face. Of course she had that look when she had earlier busted into the room yelling, " If, after 20 years, this is the best you can do, burn it and never try to write anything ever again. I've read better stories written by a 12 year old." But now there was a certain ashen color that wasn't there before.
"No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money." -- Samuel Johnson.
My normal charge is about $150 a page.
Widget production is more profitable. However, we are the largest supplier of "case histories" for business textbooks in North America. A nice little ancillary field that has grown into a major profit center. Who knew that stories about widgets would take off?
I have to get up in 5 hours. Good night.
I'll try.
Take it easy. Here's a night cap laugh. The author bio Faulkner submitted along with A Rose for Emily...
Born male and single at early age in Mississippi. Quit school after five years in seven grade. Got job in Grandfather's bank and learned medicinal value of liquor. Grandfather thought janitor did it. Hard on janitor. War came. Liked British uniform. Got commission R.F.C., pilot. Crashed. Cost British gov't pds 2000. Was still pilot. Crashed. Cost British gov't Pds 2000. Quit. Cost British gov't $84.20. King said, 'Well done.' Returned to Mississippi. Family got job: postmaster. Resigned by mutual agreement on part of two inspectors; accused of throwing all incoming mail into garbage can. How disposed of outgoing mail never proved. Inspectors foiled. Had $700. Went to Europe. Met man named Sherwood Anderson. Said, 'Why not write novels? Maybe won't have to work.' Did. Soldier's Pay. Did Mosquitos. Did. Sound and Fury. Did Sanctuary, out next year. Now flying again. Age 32. Own and operator own typewriter.
Thanks. Lets see you do better.
Why don't you say " I DOUBLE DOG DARE YA", while you're at it? That's about the level you've fallen to. That was pretty funny, in context, when Gene wrote it in A CHRISTMAS STORY, but it does fall flat, when posted to FR.
No talent, frustrated writers are a dime a dozen. You've proved that. So are petulant, chest thumping little boys in adult bodies on FR, Ditto the earlier statement.
Actually, I have a fulsome vocabulary but I usually dumb it way down, when I post here, so that people, such as yourself, are then able to understand the words. ;^)
"No talent, frustrated writers are a dime a dozen. You've proved that"
Yeah, sorry.
Why have you wasted so much bandwidth on this? Are you THAT lonely, bored, and hungry for attention?
At least you are being a good sport about it. BRAVO.
When he won the Nobel Prize, Oxford celebrated with a fish fry.
Thanks np... not that I need a pardon.
"Tim pumped the brakes..."
Stop "pumping" your ego. You got no pardon, just one wee kudo.
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