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E.A Rumfield
08-20-2012, 12:19 AM
The street was silent except for the sound of his feet beating the pavement in off time. It was a crisp overcast November night and he walked hurriedly with his hands stuck firmly in his jacket. Stopping between two streetlights he lit a cigarette. A woman walked out of the bar, finely dressed, she continued up the street unaccompanied. He waited a second then began following carefully behind. It was the girl in the picture he could tell. He watched her hips sway along her center of gravity. The cigarette burnt his finger and he flicked it toward the street. She wore a fine fur coat and Mac struggled to keep warm in his beat up wool jacket. Removing a flask from his breast pocket he took a good hit. The syrupy liquid slip down his throat and he felt it warm his belly. She turned at the next corner and Mac followed slowly behind but when he turned, she was gone. The only buildings were stores and they were closed for the night. Looking around, quite confused, Mac took another hit and lit a small pipe. “When times is tough, smoke some stuff.” is what Mac'd always say.

Lighting up a cig he phoned his man.


“Hey is your girl a ghost or what?” Mac said as soon as someone picked up.

“What the **** are you talking about?” snapped a gruff voice on the other end.

“Nuthin nuthin, I just lost her that's all. I'll call you when I find something.”

“You better dry off boy I ain't payin' you to get sloshed.”

“I'm the best in the business, don't worry.”

The next day Mac woke up around noon to a knock on the door. He threw on some clothes and as soon as he opened it in burst a man. It was another client. A large rough man who spit when he spoke.

“What The Holy ****! I'm paying you good money and here you are sleeping off a hangover. What have you found out you ****ing ****?”

“Well Mr. Hutchins I've been very busy on other cases and that's why I've been unable to contact you. You're wife is most likely having an affair. Cigarette?” Mac said coolly.

“Get to the ****ing point!”

“While everyday at ten P.M she arrives at motel. Same motel every time, The Blue Dolphin. Fifteen minutes later, every time a man comes in. He doesn't pay for a room he just signs in. Usually an hour or two later he leaves first, followed by her shortly after. I have a plan to get the picture proof you need. Just give me a few more days.”

“I'll give you two you goddamned weasel. I should have never trusted you. You're probably banging my wife too.”

The man left slamming the door behind him. Mac lit up a joint. Hungry he hit up a Chinese place. The food was good, he payed and went to visit a friend. He lived on the top floor of a ten story apartment house. The elevator read OUT OF ORDER and he had to walk up. He knocked. Ed was there and seemed pretty hungover. A fine looking long legged blonde was sitting on the couch in a blue kimono moderately open in the middle. He stared intently at her thighs and breasts she smiled a contemptuous smile.

“Hey listen Ed, I'm really backed up right now. Can you do me a favor and go down to this motel around ten tonight and get some pictures on this camera here. I'll pay you a buck.”

“You sound desperate. Make it a buck fifty.”

“Fine.”

“It's worth it.”

“Sure. I'll see you guys tonight. Make sure you're back here after twelve with those photos.”

The midnight moon cast a preternatural light on the street. Mac was standing between the same two streetlights, smoking a different cigarette this time. A woman walked out of the bar with the same elegant stride he remembered from the night before. What legs he thought. He followed her round the same corner, closer this time. When he turned she was gone again. Not even the sound of footsteps on the silent street. He walked on looking for any places she could hide but found none. He phoned the client again.

“Your girls real slick man, she just disappears into the ****ing night like a damned ghost.”

“You better find her our I'll **** you up.” and the line was dead.

He wasn't to worried about the guy, he could handle himself but he thought of the girl. She was a very attractive young girl. Abigail Stuart married a rich older man from Texas, for his money and beat him for a small fortune. Since than there was hardly a sight of her. He wondered how she lost him so effortlessly every night. Did she know he was tailing her? He decided to go to the bar and ask around. At first the barkeep played dumb but Mac slipped him a twenty and he said he thought she was staying at the Hotel Grand Royal. He hit up Ed's place got the pictures and went home and crashed.

He'd planned to go scope out the spot early in the morning and see if he could catch her leaving. Instead once again he was awoken by a knock on the door. Outside the window the street was quiet and the sky was a pale blue lacking of energy. It was 4 A.M. He opened the door and in walked an attractive young woman. She had long black hair and a kind of mean smile.

“My louse of an ex-husband hired you to follow me. I want to hire you instead.”

“Easy there bright eyes, I can tell you don't play any games but how do I know you again?”

“I know the pot probably fried your brain but I know you're not that dumb.”

“I'm not following you?” Mac was laying it on. He recognized her as Abigail Stuart the mysterious woman who managed to evade him every night.

“Listen baby,' she said rubbing his chest with her hands and leaning against him with her forearms 'I think we can help each other here.”

“So, what can I help you with?”

“You're going to help me set up my ex-husband. The only way to get him off my back is if he thinks I'm dead. Better yet if the cops thought he was the one who killed me.

“Listen lady I don't give a **** about your domestic business. You want to castrate your man with a rusty butter knife, go for it. Where do I come in on this? What gives you the slightest hint I want to be involved?”

“Well if he finds me he'll kill me... and you too probably for holdin' out on him.”

“Fine, says I don't solve that problem and tell him where you're at?”

“Oh you wouldn't do that would you handsome.' she walked over and kissed him and spoke with her lips nearly touching his. 'Plus you'll be rewarded.”

“What do you need from me?”

“We'll discuss it tomorrow. Come to my place around ten. Here's my address. Don't leave me waiting.”

“I have a feeling you're more dangerous than you let on.”

“The best girls always are.”

“****.”

E.A Rumfield
08-21-2012, 05:50 PM
........

_Paul
08-22-2012, 03:52 PM
I thought this was an interesting plot reasonably well written. The highlight being the descriptive elements which made it easy to create the pictures of the story and the dialogue. Although I would make a strong recommendation that you try and avoid beginning the majority of your sentences with 'He' or 'She' as it reads awquardly and really jars, as though we are reading a list of events as opposed to a continuous flowing story.

E.A Rumfield
08-22-2012, 05:11 PM
You are right most of the sentences start with he or she, the rest start with the or it. What do you think I can do to remedy that. I am going to start paying more attention to how other authors begin there sentences. Thanks for reading.

E.A Rumfield
08-22-2012, 05:28 PM
I re-wrote it changed the sentences up a little bit. I think it reads more interestingly and clearly now.

E.A Rumfield
08-22-2012, 08:49 PM
Drunk. That's what Mac was when he hit the elevator going up. Fiddling with his keys in his pockets he wasn't sure what he was getting into. Room 1967. He knocked. No answer. The door was slightly opened, he stepped inside. There was a room service table with food left untouched. Mac stepped further in. That's when he seen it, he froze, nearly fell to his knees and puked on the rug. There was a man in one corner slumped over himself. A gun half slipped out of his dead hand with three or four bullet wounds in the gut. Abigail lay thrown back on the bed with a hole right between her black eyebrows.

After the cops questioned him Mac walked home with his head spinning. He walked in flicked the lights on...

“WHAT THE ****!”

“I bet you're surprised to see me, happily I hope.”

“GGG-ET THE **** OUTTA HERE!”

“Oh is that anyway to treat a pretty lady.”

“I seen you with your head split like coconut. What the **** is going on.”

“I can explain all that but you need to calm down. Here sit have a drink.”

“**** that! I'm not having a drink with you. You're ****ing dead.”

“I'm right here how can you say that. Don't I look really alive.” she let her fur coat drop to the floor. Now she was only wearing a necklace. Well goddamn it he was only a man.

Mac woke the next day in bed, alone. The sheets were wet with sweat. He went into the bathroom, took a long piss, showered, brushed his teeth and shaved. He had a hangover so he made eggs and bacon and toast and coffee. Trying not to think about last night but it was hard. Was he losing his ****ing mind? The four walls were closing in on him. He grabbed his coat and hit the street. Anywhere but that goddamned apartment. He walked the whole length of the city it seemed before he hit Ed's place. Ed was alone. They sat on the deck for a while smoking and drinking. Mac told Ed what happened.

“Man are you pullin' my chain.”

“No man this ****ing happened and I don't know what to think.”

“You just drank too much man. Take it easy for a few.”

“I didn't imagine this. It's really important that someone believes me. It's really important you believe me. I'm hangin on a ****ing thread right now. What the **** do I do.”

“Go see a doctor man, maybe you need help.”

“**** you! This happened. Those two people are dead.”

“Oh I believe. What I'm having a hard time with is the chick came back from the dead to **** you, tha's all.”

“Shove your disbelief up your ***. I'm out of here.”

“Slow down. Lets take a trip for a few days you need to relax. Really. You got to rest your mind, otherwise you're goin think yourself crazy.”

So Mac and Ed went to Mexico an' painted the town red. Whores and tequila and drugs and whores. By the time Mac got back he nearly forgot everything that happened.

hillwalker
08-23-2012, 11:25 AM
The opening paragraph is a bit muddled. You describe the sound of Mac's feet - then the weather and the way he walks - then he stops for a cigarette - then a finely dressed woman emerges from 'the bar' (which bar? you haven't mentioned any bar before now) - he follows her - then suddenly you mention 'the girl in the picture' (which made me think I'd jumped into the story half way through) - he admires her hips - he ditches the cigarette - you describe what both characters are wearing - Mac takes a drink - the woman disappears - Mac drinks more then lights a pipe...

It's so disjointed. Who are we meant to keep our eyes on? Mac or the woman? You jump from one observation to another without any thought to how the story flows.

The scene with Mr. Hutchins - rushed and unrealistic (even for pulp fiction). And it doesn't get much better when he goes to visit Ed.

Your dialogue is probably the best feature of this piece (although some of it was formulaic). But the way the plot unfolds is jerky and lacking in momentum. Mac did this then Mac did that then Mac did something else. It's a little monotonous despite the fact that it's almost written in a kind of shorthand.

As for Abigail's appearance at Mac's pad - a little too coincidental. Her behaviour towards Mac - a little too contrived.

The opening paragraph of your second segment is again terribly muddled. This time it's the expressions you use. Fragmented sentences can work very effectively to convey action but this was like watching a DVD on fast forward.

How can you 'nearly' fall to your knees and puke? or 'slump over' yourself? or have a gun 'half slipped out' of your hand?

And almost immediately after discovering the two bodies Mac's been interviewed by the police and is on his way home. You make no attempt at maintaining the flow of the plot. You spend more time describing his morning ablutions and breakfast than the interesting stuff. Perhaps you're in a rush to get this finished.

If the closing paragraph is indeed all you wrote then the entire story is a huge letdown.

It's also bad practice to have dialogue capitalised and followed by exclamation marks. If you can't convey the tone through your choice of words you're not writing effectively enough.

H

E.A Rumfield
08-23-2012, 01:58 PM
Thank you for your input. Very constructive. I hadn't finished writing the story so that last paragraph is like a start of a new part of the story. I meant for it to be kind of stupid and fast, if that makes sense but not to the extent that you found it. I appreciate your insight even though I didn't like it. Anything that offers opportunity for improvement is great.

MANICHAEAN
08-23-2012, 02:36 PM
Dear E.A
Just to note an appreciation of the mature manner in which you have dealt with this issue. Hang in there and keep writing.
Best regards
M.

E.A Rumfield
08-23-2012, 02:59 PM
Thanks. Do you have any advice to offer?

Jack of Hearts
08-23-2012, 03:00 PM
Thank you for your input. Very constructive. I hadn't finished writing the story so that last paragraph is like a start of a new part of the story. I meant for it to be kind of stupid and fast, if that makes sense but not to the extent that you found it. I appreciate your insight even though I didn't like it. Anything that offers opportunity for improvement is great.

How utterly refreshing. This reader has been keeping an eye on your offerings, E.A. If he weren't presently so dépaysé, there'd be more feedback. But instead, a note of encouragement. Keep going, and Jack of Hearts will keep reading.







J

Steven Hunley
08-23-2012, 03:03 PM
I agree with Hill in that your dialogue is the strongest part of this.

When you write about such characters, who, for the most part are simple, even crude or direct, you want the writing to reflect them and their environment and therefore make it similar. It becomes problematic. The writing always has to have a degree of sophistication to it, in order to effectively convey these situations and characters. But you don't want to have the sophistication of the writing rub off on the characters or their dialogue so to speak. That's a tough one. You've cut yourself out quite a problem!

For instance it's easy to write sophisticated dialogue from sophisticated characters in sophisticated settings. (tea-time at the country estate with Auntie) You just match them up. Your challenge is tougher.

People here will help and suggest ideas though. You know, I'd heard of Bukowski but never read him. Now I'm due for a trip to the library, and all thanks to you. Keep slugging, and before you know it, you'll hit a home run (story-wise) You've got stick-to-it-ivness!

E.A Rumfield
08-23-2012, 03:17 PM
A lot of this was actually inspired by Dos Passos. I'm reading U.S.A right now and I love his writing. His narrative reflects he characters. He writes in a way that you understand the person in such an in depth way without them ever having to speak. His writing is also slick or hip you know. Very edgy.

If you want to look into Bukowski go for his short stories. His novels are alright but his short stories are among the best. Very surreal humorous. I would go for Hot Water Music or A Wine Stained Notebook. His poetry is also great. He's probably a better poet.

http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/Charles-Bukowski/194

This is a great story. Proves that people who think Buk was just a drunk pig and a boorhave never read him or are fools.

E.A Rumfield
08-23-2012, 04:31 PM
How utterly refreshing. This reader has been keeping an eye on your offerings, E.A. If he weren't presently so dépaysé, there'd be more feedback. But instead, a note of encouragement. Keep going, and Jack of Hearts will keep reading.







J

In what way am I out of my element?

hillwalker
08-23-2012, 04:31 PM
If you're looking for classy 'pulp fiction' in the same style you're striving to copy you won't find a better writer than James Ellroy. He manages the balance between sophisticated writing and simple characters perfectly. And he writes a mean thriller.

H