Ladychipmunk's third? assignment

[ladychipmunk]

Well it took me long enough with the interruption of turkey day and all but here is the re-write of one of my previous stories, as requested. I couldn't come up with an addition to the story but like what the change in tense did for it.

I entered the bar/restaurant. He told me to meet him here. I wore my most business-like khaki colored trench coat as instructed, my hair high on my head in a French twist. The night breeze was quite cool on my neck. Generally, I wore my hair in a serviceable bun or ponytail, but this was his request. I could smell the musty sweet scent of old alcohol in the air of the room along with the smells of grilled steak and baked potatoes. It was a high class restaurant and bar not just your typical sports bar establishment. As in most bars the ball game was on but here the volume was turned down so all you could do was watch the game and read the dialogue as if you were deaf. Around me were the sounds of people eating and laughing in the dining room area apart from the bar. I went to the bar and asked for the Grant party.

“Are you wearing the proper attire?” the woman tending bar looked at me doubtfully.

“I dressed as he requested” I replied blushing as I remembered with some embarrassment what I wore or wasn’t wearing under the coat.

The bartender picked up the house phone. “Grant, your passenger is here.”

“Have a seat at the bar. The driver will be with you in a minute.”

I elected not to sit on the high bar stool fearing my coat would fall open and my lack of attire would be exposed. I stood, clutched my coat closed and looked in the direction of the entry while I waited for this mysterious driver. My stomach grumbled. I was not sure if it was the smell of the delicious food wafting from the kitchens or just sheer nervousness.

A man in a chauffeurs outfit entered the bar and walked straight towards me.

“Ma’am, if you will kindly follow me I will drive you to your destination.” He turned and walked to a very elegant shadow grey limousine. I thought it was a Rolls Royce. I am not too car savvy but at least it wasn’t one of those stretch SUV’s; not only are they ugly but I hate to think of what I would have exposed climbing into one that night.

The driver held the door open for me as I slide into the vehicle. The interior was dark grey and smelled deliciously of leather. The seats were unexpectedly warm that chilly November night. The driver entered the car.

Looking back at me through the window that separated the passenger area from the cab of the vehicle, he spoke. “Please make yourself comfortable. It will be about an hour and a half to your destination. There’s a package you are to open on the seat over there.” I could hear the sound of the ball game playing over the radio in the front.

The driver turned around and the window separating the compartments closed. Once the window was shut I heard nothing but silence. As the car slowly glided away I realized that I didn’t hear the engine either. It was like floating in my own little cocoon. I felt as if I was denied sensing anything but what was in that little compartment of the world. The gentle glide of the car as it floated across the ground, the rich scent of the leather seat around me and the warmth rising from those same seats. Although the running lights were on it was not enough to see the package on the seat next to me. I played with the switches on the door to get more light. The overheads were too bright but the lights mounted just next to the doors were just perfect to allow me to see my package.

Next to me on the seat was a midnight blue foil wrapped package with a white envelope attached. The wrapping paper matched that of the package he had sent to my home. That first package contained what little I was wearing under my coat. This envelope simply said “Open”. After reading the directions in the first package I wondered what more would be asked of me. I opened the card first.

“Read these directions. Do not follow them until you have read them completely through. I expect you to follow them exactly. Any deviation from these directions will result in you being returned to your home. This opportunity will never present itself again.”

I read the instructions all the way through. I trembled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as I realized just what I had agreed to. I began to follow the instructions.

I removed my coat folding it neatly. The air in the compartment was chilly. There was no heat besides that coming from the seats. I wished I could turn the heat up but his instructions expressly forbade deviation. My nipples exposed as they were, tightened in the cold to sharp pokey little nubs. I slid off the leather seat, held the coat across both hands, palms up; the skin of my ass in contact with the seat until my knees touched the floor.

Fortunately, the stockings from the earlier package were silk not nylon, silk was less likely to run and ruin first impressions. I desperately wanted to make a good first impression. As my knees came in contact with the rough carpeted floor I felt the cool air drift across my exposed behind, the garter belt attached to the corset-like garment did nothing to protect my nether region from the drafts of cold air in the vehicle.

I crawled across the expanse of floor to the seat opposite, all the while holding the coat out in front of me like an offering. I opened the compartment and placed my coat, the only belonging I had with me, in the compartment and shut it. In this position my face was close to the leather seats and the leather smell was overwhelming. Just the thought of how I must look was making me wet and further hardened my nipples.

I sat back on my heels and prepared to open the box as instructed. Inside I found a stainless steel butt plug and a bottle of lubricant. The weight of it was incredible. Just the thought of it inside me made me want to finger myself. But that was against the rules. How he would have known I’d violated the rules, I do not know. But that was a risk I was not willing to take. I’d come this far, to go home now was unthinkable.

I leaned over the seats inhaled the scent, and felt the warmth against my rock hard nipples. The contrast of sensation between the cold air wafting between my wet thighs and the warm seats almost sent me over the edge right then. I took a deep breath and counted to ten and tried not to let the intensity of sensation overwhelm me. I spread my legs wide exposing my sphincter to the cool air, my pussy lips dripped with arousal. I applied the cold lube to my little brown hole. Again I took a deep breath and tried not to let the feelings racing along my nerves push me rocketing to orgasm and away from this adventure. I inserted the well lubed plug into my rear orifice feeling the cold heavy metal slide into my warm dark hole. I brought my legs together, relief filled me. At least the contrasting air temperature no longer teased my lower areas.

I felt my clit throbbing furiously and the wet stickiness from my cunt flowed down my legs. I sat back on my heels rising back to a sitting position on the seat behind me. I turned off the lights sat in complete darkness. I smelled the musky pungent smell of my arousal. It permeated the air. I flushed in embarrassment sure the driver could smell my sex through the car ventilation system.

I pressed the intercom button and spoke to the driver, “He said to let you know when I have finished following the instructions.”

“OK.” The driver replied. “We will arrive in about 30 minutes.”

Stunned, I sat with my knees together feeling the stickiness between my legs. I had not realized how long it had taken me to perform the instructions, but I was grateful the ride would be over soon. I could feel every bump and crack in the road through my anus, thankfully the car practically floated down the road. I cannot image how many times I would have cum if the car had had the suspension of my little Subaru. Instead the ride only heightened the sensations I was feeling. My nipples, no longer in contact with the warm seats, stood at attention again. I seemed to be finding equilibrium between the throbbing in my cunt and the jouncing of the plug in my ass. Suddenly, the plug began to vibrate slowly moving around in my rectum, teasing those sensitive nerves at the entrance to my ass. Tears came to my eyes; I gripped my hands on my knees desperately trying not to cum.

The car slowly glided to a halt. Sitting in the dark with a vibrating butt plug in my ass, wearing nothing but a black corset and silk stockings, dripping cunt juices onto warm leather seats I waited with anticipation and dread for the next step in my journey.

The door opened. I sat and waited until the driver’s black gloved hand reached into the car to lift me out. Placing my hand in his, I stretched my leg out of the car. My entire body exposed to the cool night breeze, I felt my fluids running down my legs and the heavy plug vibrating in my behind. I should have been embarrassed but could only revel in my arousal.

A man dressed like a butler stood waiting for me. “Follow me please Ma’am. The master awaits you in the library.”

The elderly gentleman led the way into a stately old mansion. As I entered the house the vibration in my ass intensified. I was not used to walking in heels this high and the tremors quaking through my body made each step a challenge. I teetered my way through the entry, hearing my heels echoing sharp and staccato with every shaky step I took. The floors were well kept cherry wood. Despite the smell of the oils used to keep all of the wood work in top condition I am certain the butler could smell my arousal, if he couldn’t see it almost dripping on his well cared for floors. I flushed in embarrassment.

“Please wait in here. There is a message for you on the desk.” The butler left me in a lush wood paneled room with a roaring fire in the fireplace. Chilled from my state of undress in the cold November weather I approached the fire to warm myself. As I passed the desk I took the envelope addressed to me. Opening it, it simply said to kneel in front of the fire and refresh myself with the glass of mulled wine left warming for me on the hearth.

I knelt on the soft silky fur-like rug in front of the fire. I sat back on my heels as the vibrator took on a new intensity in my sphincter. I sipped the warm red wine. It had a sweet and fruity flavor. Staring into the fire I waited. I heard the soft click of a door latch opening. Looking over my shoulder I saw the door ease open and well built man in a mid calf length dressing gown stood framed in the doorway. I set my glass down and waited.

He entered the room on silent bare feet, carrying a glass of wine. Approaching the fireplace, he set his glass on the mantel. His distinguished face is marred only by a nose that looks as if it may have been broken a time or two. The flames of the fire reflected in his wire rimmed glasses that hid deep brown eyes. He reached long square tipped fingers into the pocket of his dark red dressing gown. I imagined those fingers slipping inside me with that same deftness, and my wet nether lips throbbed with the thought. He pulled a device out of his pocket and placed it in his left hand. His free hand slowly turned a dial on the control. The vibrator embedded in my ass went wild. I could not sit still, flushing some more I dropped face down onto the floor at his feet, tears flowed out of my eyes mimicking the juices that gushed down my legs.

“Cum.” He stated simply in a deep gravelly voice. I burst into a million suns.

“Attention all passengers, we regret to inform you that due to the areas current severe weather patterns all departing flights have been grounded until further notice. All incoming flights have been rerouted around the severe weather and will land at the nearest airport until the weather here is clear enough to accommodate them. We are sorry for the inconvenience. Please be assured that we are doing all we can to expedite the situation.” The loud speaker overhead blares into my consciousness. I slowly realized I must have fallen asleep waiting for my delayed flight.

“Excuse me Ma’am. Is this seat taken?” a deep voice said from my right. I pushed my glasses back up where they had slid to the end of my nose. I peered up at a tall man with compelling brown eyes peers at me from behind familiar looking wire rimmed glasses. Groggily I reply, “No, You may use it.” Slowly I realized that I was dreaming. I wasn’t kneeling nearly naked in front of a fire but sat fully clothed and rather uncomfortable after falling asleep in Baltimore-Washington International Airport awaiting my flight home.

[Ruby]

Hi Ladychipmunk,

Just wanted you to know that I've seen this and will be "marking it up" with suggestions in a few days.

Most of them are editing nits. I'd like to see you use more commas and periods. :-)

Some of your descriptions were so well done, they took my breath away. They made me pant, too!

Meanwhile, perhaps others can jump in and lend their comments.

Thanks for getting me all hot and bothered,

Ruby

[Razor7826]

I'm very impressed, overall. I think there are a few nits pertaining to changing tenses and words that are not entirely necessary, but they are few.

[Nikita]

I thoroughly enjoyed your tale. The descriptions of odors, leather, pussy, wood floors, were so realistic I almost smelled them myself.

The story was believable and the character was adorably realistic. I liked her naughtiness. Her self-administered humiliation was priceless. The 'something' about female subs in humiliation stories like this, that I find so hot, is the willingness they have to go so far, just for the experience. She wasn't going to miss this for the world.

Can you tell I liked it?

There were a few bumps that I'm sure you'll find when you read the story aloud to yourself. It's the best self-editing technique I've ever tried.

For example,

I smelled the musky pungent smell of my arousal. It permeated the air. I flushed in embarrassment sure the driver could smell my sex through the car ventilation system.

It is a dilemma. I know. I go through the same thing.

Just a couple of suggestions,

I sniffed the musky, pungent, odor of my arousal. It permeated the air. I flushed (or I was flush) with embarrassment, sure that the driver could smell my sex through the car ventilation system.

The musky, pungent odor of my arousal permeated the air. I flushed (or I was flush) with embarrassment, certain that the driver could smell my sex through the car ventilation system.

I'm looking forward to reading it again.

[ladychipmunk]

Thanks for the feedback! Nits or no, I am pleased that others were drawn into the tale.

Serve up those nits. I want to get better.

I will try the reading aloud trick. (I really need to slow down and proof some more)

I get so excited having gotten to where I can post and get input from others that I don't always do the multiple reads and re-reads.

PS Nikita I absolutely LOVE your Avatar. It so reflects what I want to tell people sometimes (not here...OUT THERE)

[Ruby]

Hi ladychipmunk,

This is a delightful bit of fantasy. The images evoked, sensations described, and pacing built to an excellent climax for both your leading lady and at least one reader.

I liked the flow of the sentences and the playful way they kept me wanting to read more.

Commas are critical to letting the reader take a mental breath and for assisting with the pacing.

Also, breaking down the big paragraphs into smaller ones can help online and printed page readers.

Since editing in this format is a PITA, I'm going to kick off by inserting paragraphs between phrases and natural pauses, then ask you to continue.

Other comments and suggestions will be made along the way.

Keep up the great work.

Ruby

I entered the barroom of the restaurant. He told me to meet him here. I wore my most business-like khaki colored trench coat as instructed, with my hair high on my head in a French twist. The night breeze was quite cool on my neck. Generally, I wore my hair in a serviceable bun or ponytail, but this was his request.

I smelled the musty sweet scent of old alcohol in the air of the room along with the auroma of grilled steak and baked potatoes. It was a high class restaurant and bar not just your typical sports bar establishment. As in most bars the ball game was on, but here the volume was turned down, so all you could do was watch the game and read the dialogue as if you were deaf. Around me were the sounds of people eating and laughing in the dining room area apart from the bar. I went to the bar and asked for the Grant party.

“Are you wearing the proper attire?” asked the woman tending bar as she looked at me doubtfully.

“I dressed as he requested,” I replied blushing as I remembered with some embarrassment what I wore or wasn’t wearing under the coat.

The bartender picked up the house phone. “Grant, your passenger is here.” She turned to me and said, “Have a seat at the bar. The driver will be with you in a minute.”

Fearing my coat would fall open and my lack of attire would be exposed, I elected not to sit on the high bar stool. Instead, I stood, clutched my coat closed and looked in the direction of the entry while I waited for this mysterious driver. My stomach grumbled. I wasn't sure if it was the smell of the delicious food wafting from the kitchen or just sheer nervousness.

Note: It's okay for your character to use contractions. It's more natural. Also, notice how moving a bit of a sentence, can help keep the "I-I-I" from happening too often.

A man in a chauffeur (no s or 's) outfit entered the bar and walked straight towards me.

“Ma’am, if you will kindly follow me, I will drive you to your destination.”

He turned and walked outside. I followed him to a very elegant shadow grey limousine. I thought it was a Rolls Royce. I am not too car savvy, but at least it wasn’t one of those stretch SUV’s. Not only are they ugly, but I hate to think of what I would have exposed climbing into one.

The driver held the door open for me as I slide into the vehicle. The interior was dark grey and smelled deliciously of leather. The seats were unexpectedly warm that chilly November night. The driver entered the car.

Note: formatting changes below, keep the pace flowing and make it easier for the reader.

Looking back at me through the window that separated the passenger area from the cab of the vehicle, he spoke, “Please make yourself comfortable. It will be about an hour and a half to your destination. There’s a package you are to open on the seat over there.”

I could hear the sound of the ball game playing over the radio in the front. The driver turned around and the window separating the compartments closed. Once the window was shut I heard nothing but silence.

As the car slowly glided away, I realized that I didn’t hear the engine either. It was like floating in my own little cocoon. I felt as if I was denied sensing anything except what was in that little compartment of the world. The gentle glide of the car as it floated across the ground, the rich scent of the leather seat around me and the warmth rising from those same seats.

Although the running lights were on it wasn't light enough to see the package on the seat next to me. I played with the switches on the door. The overheads were too bright, but the lights mounted just next to the doors were just perfect to allow me to see my package.

Next to me, on the seat, was a midnight blue foil wrapped package with a white envelope attached. The wrapping paper matched that of the package he had sent to my home. That first package had contained what little I wore under my coat. This envelope simply said, “Open”. After reading the directions in the first package, I wondered what more would be asked of me. I opened the card first.

“Read these directions. Do not follow them until you have read them completely through. I expect you to follow them exactly. Any deviation from these directions will result in you being returned to your home. This opportunity will never present itself again.”

I read the instructions all the way through. I trembled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as I realized just what I had agreed to do. I began to follow the instructions.

Note: I'll do my best to stop adding commas here and you can take over. Please use them before conjunctions, at natural breaks and appropriately for quotations. You can do it!

I removed my coat folding it neatly. The air in the compartment was chilly. There was no heat besides that coming from the seats. I wished I could turn the heat up but his instructions expressly forbade deviation. My nipples exposed as they were, tightened in the cold to sharp pokey little nubs. I slid off the leather seat and held the coat across both hands, palms up. The skin of my ass contacted with the seat until my knees touched the floor.

Fortunately, the stockings from the earlier package were silk, not nylon. Silk was less likely to run and ruin first impressions. I desperately wanted to make a good first impression. As my knees came in contact with the rough carpeted floor I felt the cool air drift across my exposed behind. The garter belt attached to the corset-like garment did nothing to protect my nether region from the drafts of cold air in the vehicle.

I crawled across the expanse of floor to the seat opposite, all the while holding the coat out in front of me like an offering. I opened the compartment and placed my coat, the only belonging I had with me, in the compartment and shut it. In this position my face was close to the leather seats and the leather smell was overwhelming. Just the thought of how I must look was making me wet and further hardened my nipples.

I sat back on my heels and prepared to open the box as instructed. Inside I found a stainless steel butt plug and a bottle of lubricant. The weight of it was incredible. Just the thought of it inside me made me want to finger myself. But that was against the rules. How he would have known I’d violated the rules? I don't know. However, that was a risk I wasn't willing to take. I’d come this far, to go home now was unthinkable.

Note: this paragraph below suffers from I-I-Iness.
Suggestions would include using descriptor words to break things up even more and keep from being overly repetitive.

I leaned over the seats inhaled the scent, and felt the warmth against my rock hard nipples. The contrast of sensation between the cold air wafting between my wet thighs and the warm seats almost sent me over the edge right then. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, I tried not to let the intensity of sensation overwhelm me. Spreading my legs wide exposed my sphincter to the cool air. My pussy lips dripped with arousal. I applied the cold lube to my little brown hole.

Again I took a deep breath and tried not to let the feelings racing along my nerves push me rocketing to orgasm and away from this adventure. I inserted the well lubed plug into my rear orifice feeling the cold heavy metal slide into my warm dark hole. I brought my legs together, relief filled me. At least the contrasting air temperature no longer teased my lower areas.

I felt my clit throbbing furiously and the wet stickiness from my cunt flowed down my legs. I sat back on my heels rising back to a sitting position on the seat behind me. I turned off the lights sat in complete darkness. I smelled the musky pungent smell of my arousal. It permeated the air. I flushed in embarrassment sure the driver could smell my sex through the car ventilation system.

Note: Okay, reality check. Most butt plugs don't go all the way in, in order to help them come out. Sitting down would have been very difficult and possibly very painful. It makes a delightful visual, however, this type of plug would have no bendability to it. So, we can help the reader by having our leading lady, sit to her side, delicately balanced, worried and aroused. This is an action item for you on your next update.

I pressed the intercom button and spoke to the driver, “He said to let you know when I have finished following the instructions.”

“OK.” The driver replied. “We will arrive in about 30 minutes.”

Stunned, I sat with my knees together feeling the stickiness between my legs. I hadn't realized how long it had taken me to perform the instructions, though I was grateful the ride would be over soon. I could feel every bump and crack in the road through my anus, thankfully the car practically floated down the road. I cannot image how many times I would have cum if the car had the suspension of my little Subaru.

Instead the ride only heightened the sensations I was feeling. My nipples, no longer in contact with the warm seats, stood at attention again. I seemed to be finding equilibrium between the throbbing in my cunt and the jouncing of the plug in my ass. Suddenly, the plug began to vibrate slowly moving around in my rectum, teasing those sensitive nerves at the entrance to my ass. Tears came to my eyes; I gripped my hands on my knees desperately trying not to cum.

Note: WHAT? Why is it vibrating? What's going on? Enquiring minds want to know!

The car slowly glided to a halt. Sitting in the dark with a vibrating butt plug in my ass, wearing nothing but a black corset and silk stockings, dripping cunt juices onto warm leather seats I waited with anticipation and dread for the next step in my journey.

The door opened. I sat and waited until the driver’s black gloved hand reached into the car to lift me out. Placing my hand in his, I stretched my leg out of the car. My entire body exposed to the cool night breeze, I felt my fluids running down my legs and the heavy plug vibrating in my behind. I should have been embarrassed but could only revel in my arousal.

A man dressed like a butler stood waiting for me. “Follow me please Ma’am. The master awaits you in the library.”

The elderly gentleman led the way into a stately old mansion. As I entered the house the vibration in my ass intensified. I was not used to walking in heels this high and the tremors quaking through my body made each step a challenge. I teetered my way through the entry, hearing my heels echoing sharp and staccato with every shaky step I took. The floors were well kept cherry wood. Despite the smell of the oils used to keep all of the wood work in top condition I am certain the butler could smell my arousal, if he couldn’t see it almost dripping on his well cared for floors. I flushed in embarrassment.

“Please wait in here. There is a message for you on the desk," said the butler. Then he left me in a lush wood paneled room with a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Chilled from my state of undress in the cold November weather I approached the fire to warm myself. As I passed the desk I took the envelope addressed to me. Opening it, it simply said to kneel in front of the fire and refresh myself with the glass of mulled wine left warming for me on the hearth.

I knelt on the soft silky fur-like rug in front of the fire. I sat back on my heels as the vibrator took on a new intensity in my sphincter. I sipped the warm red wine. It had a sweet and fruity flavor. Staring into the fire I waited. I heard the soft click of a door latch opening. Looking over my shoulder I saw the door ease open and well built man in a mid calf length dressing gown stood framed in the doorway. I set my glass down and waited.

He entered the room on silent bare feet, carrying a glass of wine. Approaching the fireplace, he set his glass on the mantel. His distinguished face is marred only by a nose that looks as if it may have been broken a time or two. The flames of the fire reflected in his wire rimmed glasses that hid deep brown eyes. He reached long square tipped fingers into the pocket of his dark red dressing gown.

I imagined those fingers slipping inside me with that same deftness, and my wet nether lips throbbed with the thought. He pulled a device out of his pocket and placed it in his left hand. His free hand slowly turned a dial on the control. The vibrator embedded in my ass went wild. I could not sit still, flushing some more I dropped face down onto the floor at his feet, tears flowed out of my eyes mimicking the juices that gushed down my legs.

“Cum.” He stated simply in a deep gravelly voice. I burst into a million suns.

Note: Nice, now give me a bit more. Let me linger and experience that with her. What's he doing? What's she feeling?

“Attention all passengers, we regret to inform you that due to the areas current severe weather patterns all departing flights have been grounded until further notice. All incoming flights have been rerouted around the severe weather and will land at the nearest airport until the weather here is clear enough to accommodate them. We are sorry for the inconvenience. Please be assured that we are doing all we can to expedite the situation.”

Note: The tenses got a bit mixed up at the end.

The loud speaker overhead blared into my consciousness. I slowly realized that I must have fallen asleep waiting for my delayed flight.

“Excuse me Ma’am. Is this seat taken?” a deep voice said from my right.

I pushed my glasses back up from where they had slid to the end of my nose. I peered up at a tall man with compelling brown eyes peers at me from behind familiar looking wire rimmed glasses. Groggily I replied, “No, You may use it.”

Instead of kneeling nearly naked in front of a fire, I sat fully clothed and rather uncomfortable after falling asleep in Baltimore-Washington International Airport awaiting my flight home.

(c) 2007 ladychipmunk - All rights reserved.

[tessa]

Hope it's okay for me to comment.

I have to agree with Ruby about smaller paragraphs. It's my bad habit, so I mention it as a reminder to myself more than anything.

“Cum.” He stated simply in a deep gravelly voice. I burst into a million suns.

What a way to describe that. Brilliant!

A very descrptively rich story! And H-O-T!!!

tessa

[H Dean]

Well it took me long enough with the interruption of turkey day and all but here is the re-write of one of my previous stories, as requested. I couldn't come up with an addition to the story but like what the change in tense did for it.

[COLOR="orange"]I entered the bar/restaurant.

Who would have ever thought I would see a forward slash in literature. Don't do that again. It's not just bad form it's crap.

He told me to meet him here. I wore my most business-like khaki colored trench coat as instructed, my hair high on my head in a French twist.

This doesnt really provide much. It sort of peters out.

The night breeze was quite cool on my neck. Generally, I wore my hair in a serviceable bun or ponytail, but this was his request.

Yeah, that it was his request was implied in the previous part I quoted. Another thing, you are working bland to a science here. Later in the story you give us the bit about the cold November air but you fail to set that here. Set your story up.

I could smell the musty sweet scent of old alcohol in the air of the room along with the smells of grilled steak and baked potatoes. It was a high class restaurant and bar not just your typical sports bar establishment. As in most bars the ball game was on but here the volume was turned down so all you could do was watch the game and read the dialogue as if you were deaf.

"As in most bars..." what the hell is this? Don't give me a definition of what a hgih class restaurant and bar is - describe the damned thing. Tell the damned story don't give me the "According to Hoyle" version. Write!

Around me were the sounds of people eating and laughing in the dining room area apart from the bar. I went to the bar and asked for the Grant party.

We know folks are talking and eating and laughing - now fill the air with it and make me hear it. Then, dont "went" to the bar, and "asked for the Grant party" and just leave it there. It hangs up on itself and dies the slow gurgling death of boredom.

“Are you wearing the proper attire?” the woman tending bar looked at me doubtfully.

“I dressed as he requested” I replied blushing as I remembered with some embarrassment what I wore or wasn’t wearing under the coat.

Asside from missing commas, your final description could have been more exciting. You tend to you "as" a lot. Throw in a comma, make the thought now and not so passive.

The bartender picked up the house phone. “Grant, your passenger is here.”

“Have a seat at the bar. The driver will be with you in a minute.”

I elected not to sit on the high bar stool fearing my coat would fall open and my lack of attire would be exposed. I stood, clutched my coat closed and looked in the direction of the entry while I waited for this mysterious driver. My stomach grumbled. I was not sure if it was the smell of the delicious food wafting from the kitchens or just sheer nervousness.

What is the deal with you chopping every moment down to unexciting levels? Everything is so passive - make something seem immediate even if it is past tense. Bring this some pop!

A man in a chauffeurs outfit entered the bar and walked straight towards me.

What the hell is a chauffer's outfit? Is that like a fire-man's outfit? Look, chicks have outfits - kids have outfits. When you write, people don't have outfits. People "wear" or are "wearing". Also, he didnt walk "straight" towards you, he walked "directly" towards you. "Straight" is more colloquial, or some other big word.

“Ma’am, if you will kindly follow me I will drive you to your destination.” He turned and walked to a very elegant shadow grey limousine. I thought it was a Rolls Royce. I am not too car savvy but at least it wasn’t one of those stretch SUV’s; not only are they ugly but I hate to think of what I would have exposed climbing into one that night.

I really need to introduce you to the "comma". Trust me, it'll liven up your story telling. Also, getting rid of how ugly a stretch SUV is would liven it up too.

The driver held the door open for me as I slide into the vehicle. The interior was dark grey and smelled deliciously of leather. The seats were unexpectedly warm that chilly November night. The driver entered the car.

Thanks for finally giving me the month and an idea of the temperature. That should have gone near the beginning of your story. It should have been descibed with her coalescing breath and the hardness of her nipples making her fear her exposure for her lack of clothing.

Finally - "the driver entered the car". Wow. You had me at "the". Okay, you may think I am being overly harsh, but you are dropping little bits of boring all over something that should be exciting.

Looking back at me through the window that separated the passenger area from the cab of the vehicle, he spoke. “Please make yourself comfortable. It will be about an hour and a half to your destination. There’s a package you are to open on the seat over there.” I could hear the sound of the ball game playing over the radio in the front.

Sorry, hearing the sound of the ball game going on over the radio doesn't work. The sentence comes in out of the blue and it doesn't have the proper feel. It seems to me that you don't know how to use "he said" or "she said" and you are covering for it.

The driver turned around and the window separating the compartments closed.

Okay, technically, the conjunction for the window closing was fine. But that whole sentence was a drag.

Once the window was shut I heard nothing but silence.

That's what I am hearing right now too.

Watch this:

The driver turned around, hitting the switch that raised the glass between our compartments, shutting us out from each other. Suddenly, there was nothing but my heart beat and the sound of my breathing to keep me company.

See that - I raised the glass and closed off the compartments and made it more immediate - got rid of that "and", which killed the flow. Then I showed the silence without mentioning it. Sometimes what you say can be louder if you don't say it.

Okay, I am not going to abuse you any further. Yes, I know I have been a dick. That's why I do this - so I can be a dick but you all will have to say "he was just helping". So you all must love me, for I am helping. This is what you have to look forward to when you get to Level 4, by the way. It's just me, you, Mad Lews and a can of foot in your ass.

Onward...my whole point in this abuse was to help you find your structure. It is your main flaw. Work on combining two short sentences into one. Work on giving descriptions on time - like the November thing. Learn to give a description of what is necessary and not what isn't necessary. I gave some prime examples. Further, if something is dull in its nature, make it less dull. Finally, stop being passive. Give your creatures life.

Okay, I am zipping up and moving on.

[ladychipmunk]

Thank you all for your comments.

Ruby,

Good to see you back!

You may not hear from me for a while. I need to go re-write this and others (and get Dean's foot out of my ass! )

[H Dean]

Hey, now that it's out, clean my shoe, damn it. Look at the mess you made!

[Nikita]

~bump~

[ladychipmunk]

I know I need to do this but I just can't bring myself to do the re-write right now. All very good points made but I feel like I am slogging through mud right now and all I hear is the giant sucking sound my feet are making as I try to lift them

I even started cleaning the basement. (That's how bad it is. BTW I HATE cleaning the basement!)

Working on working on it.......

[Ruby]

Hi LC,

You've been battered and bruised over a wonderful story.
A rewrite isn't in order, just a few edits to make it better.

Do you have to do it right now? No.
Give it a rest. Come back at it fresh another day.
When you do "tackle" it again, think of it as an old friend that needs her make-up redone. A few swishes of the magic make-up wand aka brush and she's good to go.

Meanwhile, I'd like you to answer the following questions:

a. What did or didn't you like about writing in this style?
b. What was easy or difficult for you?
c. Do you think you'd enjoy writing in this style again?

I'll be sending you a new assignment in a PM.

Cheers,

Ruby

[ladychipmunk]

Hi LC,

You've been battered and bruised over a wonderful story.
A rewrite isn't in order, just a few edits to make it better.

Do you have to do it right now? No.
Give it a rest. Come back at it fresh another day.
When you do "tackle" it again, think of it as an old friend that needs her make-up redone. A few swishes of the magic make-up wand aka brush and she's good to go.

Meanwhile, I'd like you to answer the following questions:

a. What did or didn't you like about writing in this style?
b. What was easy or difficult for you?
c. Do you think you'd enjoy writing in this style again?

I'll be sending you a new assignment in a PM.

Cheers,

Ruby

I don't know how to make the multi quote work so please bear with me...

What I liked/disliked about writing style... Well I thought that the past active tense was more engaging but more difficult for me to write. I am not a "writer" by training. I write because as humans we have this damnable need to communicate, unfortunatley my typical communicating deals in technical mumbo jumbo <snore>. A good replacement for the old sears robuck catalog in the outhouse!

This one wasn't too bad in terms of difficulty. (Far preferable to the male first person POV I did in the other thread. yech!)

As far a writing in it again. I probably would enjoy it. We'll find out.

I've got this one all filed away in my hard drive. Is there anyway to quickly save the thread to disc so I can review it when I am ready to revise and resubmit? (no pun intended)


Lews,

Many thanks for the encouragement and the insight into word processors. It's good to know that Word is heavenly inspired although there are days I swear that Word was invented by some demonic force.....Usually those thoghts occur as I hit CTRl+Alt+Del!

Never did finish the basement.....

[Mad Lews]

I know I need to do this but I just can't bring myself to do the re-write right now. All very good points made but I feel like I am slogging through mud right now and all I hear is the giant sucking sound my feet are making as I try to lift them

I even started cleaning the basement. (That's how bad it is. BTW I HATE cleaning the basement!)
Working on working on it.......

M'lady

Sometimes the editing can get so overwhelming it seems like someone else (or two or three someones) have taken over your project. Take your time read what they say and digest it for a bit. Don't take it badly because any story can always be told a bit better in the retelling. When you do get back to it just read through with an open mind and tinker where you want to; remember it is your creation. Tinkering is the real reason god created word processing programs.

Yours,

Mad Lews

[H Dean]

Chipper, just click "file" on your browser and then go to the "save as" on the drop down menu and save the page as HTML. That'll same the entire page.

As far as a re-write goes: Don't re-write the story. It's a good tale. Also, don't worry so much about getting to it right away. Some of my best (read: Mediocre) writings came after letting a story sit for a month - okay, a year - before getting to it again. You are also not in need of a re-write so much as an edit. If I re-wrote everything I did I would never finish anything at all. What's that? You want to know how I go about fixing my crap? Well, okay, but only since you asked so nicely.

After writing out my story as text file I transfer it to MSWord. My first order of business is to correct spelling and typos. While doing this I end up reading some of what I wrote, cringing at the poorly crafted phrases. I adjust them as I see them and then, after the typos, spelling gaffes and grammatical errors are fixed, I put the story away for about a week.

A week afterwards I edit my first chapter. My editing consists of re-phrasing sentences, removing weak words, phrases and things that hamper the flow. Sometimes I will re-write entire paragraphs. I always do so just below the paragraph I am editing so I don't lose track of why I am editing or what I wanted to say. Then I delete the crappy paragraph or sentence and go on. NEVER delete or write over what you are editing until you are satisfied with your new creation. Trust me on not deleting your badly phrased lines before you come up with a better one - you may not be able to come up with a better one right off and you will need the original.

After my first chapter is edited I give it another week to cool before going back to it. When I go back this time I read through the first chapter and make more adjustments. Then I jump to the next chapter and begin editing that as I did the first.

A week after chapter two was edited I read through chapter 1 and 2, fixing what needs fixing and then begin editing chapter 3. Another week will go by before I come back. This time I leave chapter 1 alone and start with reading and fixing chapter 2 and 3 and then edit chapter 4. Essentially, I go over three chapters every time I edit.

When my edits are done I go though it all a week later, making adjustments as needed. Another week of rest and I do the same. Thats when I decide it is ready for viewing. After my tale is posted I read through it again, cringe at what I didn't see before and promise to edit better the next time. The part I hate is that, no matter how many times I edit, I will always find something completely fucked in what I wrote. You will too. Ain't it fun?

Anyhow, that's how I do it. I think I posted this somewhere before. Fortunately, I like telling people what to do. My way is the right way, after all.

Have fun, Chipmonkey. It's a grand thing, this writing business. It also sucks ass in a big way.

Dean, the Mean.

[Nikita]

Lady Chipmunk,

I've stumbled onto an exercise that might stimulate you. It's short and fun. I used it to break through a small writer's block. It's called flash fiction or sudden fiction.

Mike Kimera describes how he uses flash fiction and gives an example in his blog.

Anyone can try it. You do not have to commit yourself to the story as you would when writing longer pieces. Although it may sound very difficult, some people have a natural knack for telling a tale in a very short space, and basically anything goes.

The definition in quotes is taken from this link. The page has links to other flash fiction sites and even more examples.

What is Flash Fiction? In it's simplest term, it is a story that's somewhere between 300 and 1000 words (there is of course micro-fiction which is between 10 and 300 words). Some describe Flash Fiction as a story of one act, or the culmination of several unwritten events. In truth Flash Fiction is a genre in which every word used by the author counts, and not just towards an end word target. For those who write in this style it is an art form. Even literary giants have tested their talents, Ernest Hemingway took flash to the ultimate conclusion and produced this masterpiece of just six words.

"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."