Should I Continue With This?

[Guest YellowJacket894]

Just read this and tell me if it makes you fall asleep. (I think I used the word "phone" waaaay too much here.)

Keenan Dyer pulled into the Pilot station parking lot and parked the dusty black Crown Victoria at the front of the convenience store. He shut off the ignition, opened the door, got out, and went straight for a pay phone, looking around nervously as he went. He had to make this quick. And he also had to make sure he didn’t skip on the details when he described what he had witnessed.

The pay phone was located near the two front doors of the convenience store. Keenan immediately spotted it and briskly walked over to it. Despite of his nervousness, he was feeling good about how things were going so far, which were much better than he expected. He wiped the sweat on his hands off on his jeans and took a deep breath in.

Keenan lifted the phone from the hook and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. On it, a number had been written to get in contact with FBI Headquarters in Washington D.C. He unfolded the paper and read the digits printed boldly in permanent marker, probably a Marks-a-Lot brand with a chisel tip. He then folded the paper back up and held it in his other hand. Keenan stuck his hand back down in his pocket again, grabbed a handful of loose change, and deposited two dollars and twenty-five cents -- the cost to make the call from Kingston, Tennessee to D.C. -- and dialed 1 - 2 - 0 - 2 - 2 - 7 - 8 - 2 - 0 - 0 - 0, clutching the handset as he listened to the ringing of the phone whisper into his ear. Keenan began to think, slow and steady, about the past few months and how things were all going to come to a close in this one, simple phone call.

I'm debating if I should continue where I stopped with the rough draft so I can maybe send this in to Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. (Now, if I can pick a four leaf clover out of a lucky Irish field...)

[76ChevyTrucker]

I liked it YJ, I really did. And yes, you did use phone a bit too much. You're description skills really come out on this one. Good job painting a picture in my mind as I read. My only gripe would be to give maybe a little more forestory in there so that it doesn't feel like we're just being dropped into a situation.

[Guest YellowJacket894]

I liked it YJ, I really did.  And yes, you did use phone a bit too much.  You're description skills really come out on this one.  Good job painting a picture in my mind as I read.  My only gripe would be to give maybe a little more forestory in there so that it doesn't feel like we're just being dropped into a situation.

163498[/snapback]

Thanks. Means a lot to me that someone thought it was decent.

And as for your other suggestions: noted. I didn't post all of what I had though. After the part I posted, Keenan Dyer begins to think about how he wound up in this position. But, you're right. This should be at the very, very end.

I think I know how to fix my problems with the word "phone."

I'll post revisions soon.

As of now, anyone else want to drop a few words?

Edited July 7, 2006 by YellowJacket894

[mustang84]

Thanks. Means a lot to me that someone thought it was decent. 

And as for your other suggestions: noted. I didn't post all of what I had though. After the part I posted, Keenan Dyer begins to think about how he wound up in this position. But, you're right. This should be at the very, very end.

I think I know how to fix my problems with the word "phone."

I'll post revisions soon.

As of now, anyone else want to drop a few words?

163533[/snapback]

On the part where it says "Keenan lifted the phone from the hook," change phone to "receiver." That'll help eliminate one of them.

Good story though...very descriptive and it was actually pulling me in. A lot of times when people try to write a story they tend to "word it up" because they think it'll make it sound better, but it actually makes it worse. You've gotten it down about right. Keep going and post further developments!

[DetroitNut90]

Nice story so far-very detailed and easy to follow.

I don't think that you used phone too much. I mean what else can you call it, the plastic thing on a hook that lets you talk to people?

[Guest YellowJacket894]

This is what comes after what I posted.

The summer of 2003 was a hard one for Keenan Dyer. He was nineteen, couldn’t keep a job, and was finding that the money in his wallet, checking and savings accounts, and in the cigar box he kept far back in his closet were diminishing daily. He had dropped out of college after his third semester; he just couldn’t afford to pay the expensive cost of books and other pointless fees for something he thought should’ve been free to start with. Life is usually hard for people who come from families who make mediocre money year after year and Keenan Samuel Dyer was no exception to the rule.

So, when Keenan found a job in the classified section of the Kingston Citizen he knew he could keep, he took it.

Kingston Lawn Care wanted someone who could work a lawn mower and mow about five lawns a day from eight in the morning to eight in the evening. They also need someone who knew how to use a mulch spreader and could do light landscaping work. For Keenan, this would be mostly an easy task to do -- he mowed the grass for his parents and a few of his relatives until he moved away for years and helped his father plant a few new trees and flowers around his home every summer.

Keenan called the number in the ad the day after he found it, stating that he was interested in the position. Kingston Lawn Care said they wanted an application as soon as possible, following up the request with an address he could mail to or drop off the paperwork at. It was simple enough; even simpler when he considered he had typed up a few applications after he had been fired from his previous job at Wendy’s as a lowly fry cook.

At first, Dyer considered mailing in the application. But he knew where the address was located at and then decided he would drop it off instead. First thing in the morning, he thought, he would drop the application off and hope that the job would be his. After all, there was good money to be made in mowing lawns and KLC was well known in the area for paying their employees well. His friend Aaron Jason had worked for KLC for well over a year and somehow managed to make enough money to live in a decent apartment placed in a nice Memphis suburb and drive a late-model Nissan Sentra. Of course, Aaron now worked for Nextel selling cell phones and memorizing the rate structure, so the job only could have sustained his new-found life for only so long before car payments and the rent increased.

He couldn’t pass up the chance to make things look a little better for himself. He was determined to make the job his.

He awoke at nine-thirty on the morning of June 23rd and was ready to make the drive to Kingston Lawn Care by ten. He dressed in one his best polo shirts and a pair of blue jeans and slipped behind the wheel of his tattered old Chevy Celebrity, feeling certain that he would be hired by the firm.

That could very well be how the story starts out. As for revisions on the other part, they are few and you wouldn't even notice them.

[tmp]

It's good, it made me want to read more. Mr. Snotty Writer Grammar Police does have to point out however, that it should be "walked briskly"

[Sixty8panther]

yeah... you've got us hooked, not where's this all going?

[zhawk]

Its coming all very well.

Like was previously suggested, alternate the character's name with 'he' and change the sentence structure to add some character.

As for your problem with repeating phone Here's a couple of suggestions.

Drop 'pay' from the 'pay phone' in the first sentence of the second paragraph. You still wind up with phone but have a different feel from the first time.

You already changed 'phone' to 'receiver' in the third paragraph, now consider dropping 'phone' from the end of that paragraph and you wind up with.

He began to think, slowly and steadily, about the past few months and how things were all going to come to a close in this one simple call.

You could also change that sentence to read like this.

Slowly and steadily he thought about the past few months and began to realize how things were all going to come to a close in this one simple call.

It's your story, these are just a couple of suggestions to help you when you feel like you are repeating yourself. Good luck and keep up the great work!

Edited July 7, 2006 by zhawk

[76ChevyTrucker]

It really does look good YJ. i haven't been able to work on my novel all that much myself, but I'll get around to it again soon. Keep us posted on it, I like what I'm seeing.

[Guest YellowJacket894]

I realized I have a lot of adverbs. (Nervously...anything that ends with "-ly".) That has to be fixed.

[76ChevyTrucker]

Yeah, I noticed that too, but I'm not going to be too ciritcal because I know I do that I lot in my own work.

[Guest YellowJacket894]

Decided I wanted to take another direction with it. I'm also happy to announce that I'm on the second draft.

Keenan Dyer pulled into the driveway of the old white house and parked the dusty black Crown Victoria. He reached over into the passenger’s seat and grabbed the pistol, shut the ignition off, opened the door, stepped out, and began walking up the driveway, passing an aging, but well cared for, silver Buick Roadmaster wagon. As he walked, he made sure nobody was around, looking around nervously as he went. He could see nothing. Just a bunch of trees and one deserted house down the road in the distance.

Keenan stuffed the pistol into the front pocket of his windbreaker jacket and kept his hand inside so that the large lump wouldn’t look suspicious. He stuffed his free hand into his other pocket and walked brisk and as normal as he possibly could up to the faded white door of the old house.

When he got to the door, he knocked three times. This old house was built before the doorbell became standard, when the doorknocker was something of a suburban luxury. A part of him was hoping that no one was home, that he could just go and do this another day when he wasn’t feeling so uneasy. There was no answer. He sighed deep, knocked again, and closed his eyes.

Please don’t let the old hag be here, he thought. Please, let her be at a family reunion or playing bingo with a few friends.

Keenan’s hoping was futile for an old, scratchy, well worn-in voice came echoing from somewhere in the ancient house. “Who is it? Are you here to cut the grass?”

A grin of both delight and disgust pushed its way across his face. The silly old bitch was home.

“Nah. It’s me,” he said. “Open the door would you Mrs. Remley?”

“Is this Keenan Dyer?” the old voice asked.

“Yuh. It’s him. In the flesh and standing here in the fall breeze.”

“Alright. Give me a moment.”

The sounds of old feet walking across creaky baseboards to the front door danced in Keenan’s ears followed by the noise of tumblers and locks turning and a single chain slapping wood. The door groaned on its hinges, opened, and one single old woman stood in the doorway. She had a warm, greeting face creased with wrinkles and grooves.

They always said Satan would look innocent if he roamed the Earth, Keenan mused. And I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look like he might make you a nine-course Sunday dinner, plop a nickel in your hand, pat you on the head and call you a good boy.

“It’s so good to see again Keenan,” the old voice embodied in the old woman said. “Please, come in. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you Mrs. Remley,” he said to her.

Again, a lot of kinks but the main idea is just to get a little feedback on the new direction I'm taking.

[76ChevyTrucker]

its definitely different, more gritty, more dark. I like it a good bit, but again, you're dropping us into the middle of a battlefield without a gun and without a set of directives, if you follow my drift.

[Guest YellowJacket894]

its definitely different, more gritty, more dark.  I like it a good bit, but again, you're dropping us into the middle of a battlefield without a gun and without a set of directives, if you follow my drift.

169441[/snapback]

I catch ya. The backstory is revealed later on.

But, for hell's sake, let me hand out my vauge idea concerning what the story is about...

The main character of this short story, Keenan Dyer, used to work for Mrs. Remley, a drug dealer living in Eastern Kentucky. Keenan used to make deliveries to clients and take payment.

One afternoon, Keenan is pulled over by the local Sheriff for speeding. The Sheriff also gives his van a routine narcotics check and finds dozens of precription and illegal drugs waiting to be delivered. Keenan is arrested and Mrs. Remley didn't even bother to bail him out of jail when it was her fault.

Dyer ends up spending a solid two years at the local Detention Center until an annonymous call explains to the police the drugs weren't Dyer's. Dyer is released and plots his revenge on Mrs. Remley.

...Something along those lines.

In the second draft, I'd like to note, I changed the setting to the dead of winter. Keenan's going to do a pretty...cold act of violence so I decided to maybe infuse some (probably badly written) symbolism there.

[76ChevyTrucker]

that works then. If you can, write out the kill scene. I'd like to see how you handle the really gory action stuff.

[Guest YellowJacket894]

I'll post that up soon, '76. :AH-HA_wink:

[76ChevyTrucker]

Good, cause we all know that I can right scenes about people getting killed, just remember my "side work" thread.

[Halo]

You're a good writer, YJ, I like what you have so far. I cant wait until you get the rest up. But, speaking of short story delimas, I need help with one, but i think i'll post it later

[Guest YellowJacket894]

You're a good writer, YJ, I like what you have so far. I cant wait until you get the rest up. But, speaking of short story delimas, I need help with one, but i think i'll post it later

170150[/snapback]

Do that. I can help with a few pointers, and '76 will probably give you pointers twice as good as mine.