d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: Michael Scott (---.bb.sky.com)
Date: 05-15-08 12:10
Kayvee had to resort to the oldest known profession in order to survive. When Kayvee first started, she'd resorted to the use of drugs, to take away some of the pain. Then, like others she was in a catch twenty two situation; she depended on the drugs so she could bring herself to do the work, and she needed to work, to finance the drug dependency. For some time, Kayvee and the other girls on the beat had been having a few territorial issues. A pimp named Juvenile claimed to be the solution to all the hassle she was having, but linking up with him proved to be not one of her better decisions. Juvenile, had done nothing to protect her. All he ever did, was beat her, for not making enough cash, she wasn't making enough cash, because all the other girls kept running her off the beat. On the night in question, she was arguing and fighting with a couple of her co-workers.
“Ladies, Ladies please! Play nicely.” A stranger said, as he intervened and broke up the little scuffle. The stranger was over tall, six feet, maybe six-one or six-two. He was an African American, with shoulder length dreadlocks. He wore a light suit jacket with jeans. His appearance could best be described as tidy. For once, Juvenile was actually in the neighbourhood, he decided to mark his territory. Juvenile believed he was the ultimate alpha male.
“Nigger! you need to mind your damn business and walk on.” The pimp boomed, puffing out his chest to the stranger. The stranger was well spoken and polite, you could hear it in his voice as he apologised. He was smiling when he said.
“Sorry Sir. Just trying to keep the peace.” He proceeded to walk on, to go about his business.
“You damn right to call me Sir, I'm your daddy, I ought to whoop you in you head! Keep the peace! Huh! Do want to feel a piece of lead in your gut?” Juvenile shouted, he faked a backhanded slap, aimed at the back of the man's head. The stranger stopped in his tracks, turned, and spoke very calmly.
“You are right, this here is none of my business, and I am moving on. Unless you are looking for some kind of an academy award, best actor maybe? There's no need to try to act the big man in front of these ladies.”
“Shut the @!#$ up and walk on nigger!” Juvenile cursed. There was a very noticeable switch in attitude. The man marched up to Juvenile, the smile was gone, however the calmness remained.
“Don't tell me what to do, don't you ever do that.” He looked away, looked back, then put his finger against his lips like he was telling somebody, maybe even himself, to be quiet. The stranger then pointed, like he'd had an idea. “Listen son.” He continued “You. You are just an idiot boy standing there in what looks like a dumb assed prison uniform. You are waiting to be somebody's bitch.” Juvenile down looked at his own clothing, he was wearing a silk shirt and Armani jeans, the jeans were undone and hitched around the top of his thighs.
“Prison Uniform? What you talking about? Who you calling a bitch?” Juvenile pulled his gun from the waistband of his boxer shorts and held it down by his side. Juvenile seemed a little nervous. The stranger must have seen the gun but chose to ignore it, he remained both calm and confident.
“Listen son.” He started. “With your jeans around your knees, you won't be running very fast. So the feds will catch you, and when they put you in pen, coz they will put scum like you in pen. Your ass is already hanging out, ripe and ready, so them boys are gonna love you. Boy, are they gonna just love your ass.” The stranger chuckled, as he finished the sentence. All of the three girls found this amusing. Juvenile got mad and shouted at them.
“What the @!#$ you bitches laughing at? Huh! Shut the @!#$ up!” He then turned to speak to the stranger, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Kayvee was still laughing loudly, this attracted Juvenile's attention. Kayvee was feeling charged, inspired and foolishly brave. She set about him verbally.
“Juvenile, you are totally ****ing useless! A total waste of space! That guy was right, you're just a stupid boy. Move from me! I've had it with you. I'm going back to being on my own. Juvenile, you are never around, even when you are around, you can't do @!#$!” Naturally, Juvenile didn't take this very well, and by way of retaliation had thrown her over a car bonnet. The pimp began to beat her severely. The other girls, helpless, stood and watched.
“Can't do @!#$! Huh!” He screamed, as he brought the butt of the pistol crashing into the side of her face, again and again. “Can't do @!#$! Can't do @!#$!” He matched each phrase to a blow. After the third strike, Kayvee, lay motionless on the ground in front of the car. She was fully conscious. The hooker just looked up at him coldly, preparing herself for what undoubtedly came next. Juvenile tucked the gun into the back of his waistband and inserted his hand into the front of his shorts.
“Bitch! I'm gonna show you what I can do! I'll show who can't do @!#$!” Juvenile pulled himself out of his boxers. Kayvee gave Juvenile a defiant stare, followed by a long slow blink. She wasn't gonna give him the satisfaction of closing her eyes for this, she just continued to stare. Be certain, hell would freeze over before she cried. Kayvee would die before she begged, she was ready to make her last stand right here and now. The look in the prostitute's eyes, challenged him. Yes, her eyes showed defiance, but they also possessed childlike quality. Juvenile lost his nerve, and with it, any hope of maintaining an erection. His original intent had been to rape her, right then and there in the street. To make an example of her in front of everybody, to show them who was boss. Without an erection this was going to backfire. The whole neighbourhood would be calling him, limp dick.
“@!#$ you bitch! I ain't even gonna @!#$ you, coz you ain't worth ****in', you're trash, a stinkin' dirty spic, nuttin' but trash, you just a ho.” Juvenile had to maintain his image and status. “You know what? I am gonna piss on you and leave you on the street. That way you'll smell like the piece of garbage you are!” For this, she had to close her eyes. Kayvee squeezed them shut tightly, she waited for the golden humiliation to descend. Nothing happened, save for the sounds of a crash and a grunt and a thud. When the prostitute eventually summoned the courage to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was the stranger, leaning on a shovel, with Juvenile's gun in his hand. Juvenile lay unconscious, the stranger was pulling her to her feet.
“Fark!” She exclaimed, touching he collarbone. “Iss he dead?”
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: L Bea (---.bltmmd.fios.verizon.net)
Date: 05-15-08 20:32
Michael,
I don't like it. I don't see the point. I didn't feel anything for Kayvee, though I think you wanted me to given what she did at the end of this excerpt. I'm not feeling this at all. Sorry. I don't understand who the stranger is. And I feel like it's all a bunch of tough sh!t for nothing. Not trying to be harsh, but I'm really not feeling this...
Bea
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: Anthony Ravenscroft (---.240.240.209.modem.dynamic.cptelecom.net)
Date: 05-15-08 23:41
I didn't need to get past the first two sentences to know it's probably overwriten:
in order to
the use of
The first graf is almost all backstory, the sort of notes that're great for the writer to have, but unnecessary filler when you're trying to grab & hold a reader's attention.
Too many commas (by about 50%).
Too many exclamation points.
Too many attribution tags.
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: d. Leroy (---.area5.spcsdns.net)
Date: 05-16-08 01:39
Michael, I have to agree with what the others said - this isn't good. Is this something you just threw together or is it a polished piece of work?
I ask because the piece you posted a few threads ago was better, and even though it was strange (to me), it seemed more thought out and prepared.
For this piece, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think - a hooker gets beat up by a black guy, presumably her pimp, and then a stranger hits the black guy in the head with a shovel. Hmmm... didn't get it.
I think you've got two choices here:
Scrap this and move on - it's not a big deal to do that, I've done it with nearly completed novels before (well, only once on something that big).
Or,
go back to the drawing board on this, clean it up. Get the grammar and punctuation straightened out, but even more important, get the story straightened out. As an example - you could axe that whole first paragraph and just say she's a drug-addicted hooker - we all pretty much know what that means.
Not sure if this helped any, but it was my take. Also, I'll take a closer look at the email you sent and see if I can't give some more specifics of where the problems were at, in my opinion (and its my opinion only and it's not the most qualified one, I might add, not by any stretch of the imagination).
Best of luck,
d.
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: Michael Scott (---.bb.sky.com)
Date: 05-16-08 02:18
Ooops! I'm getting the feeling nobody really like that excerpt. I can't really scrap it, it's too far embedded. I've improved the punctuation and changed the last paragraph. I guess, I'll have to look at it again. I am probably the engineer of my own undoing. I am desperately trying to write in cubes rather than spheres.
I can't just say she was a drug addicted hooker, She's a Soccer Mom now.
Stop right there, read the sentence above. God! We speak different languages don't we. 'A drug addicted hooker' is a Rugby player that uses steriods. The game is called Football, not soccer and you most certainly don't spell mum. M O M.
Right now I am so feeling her drug use!
Again, thanks for taking the time.
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: A.L. Sirois (155.91.28.---)
Date: 05-16-08 09:37
My big problem with this is that you're telling, not showing. Personally, I would rewrite this as a scene with dialog, but if you must use it as it is, then perhaps try something like this:
When Kayvee reluctantly started hooking she used drugs to deaden the pain of her shame. Though the drugs helped her do the work, she found herself spending most of her money to finance her new dependency.
As new meat, Kayvee had a few territorial issues with the more seasoned whores. A pimp named Juvenile claimed to be the solution to all her problems but he did nothing to protect her. Instead he beat her for not making enough money. She wasn't making enough because all the other girls kept running her off the beat. On the night in question, she fell into a vicious argument with a couple of her co-workers.
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: Michael Scott (---.bb.sky.com)
Date: 05-16-08 10:03
Thanks for taking the time, and I can see that it does need work. Ironically, I was critised for having to much dialogue, hence this part was narrative.
This passage is almost a flashback. Kayvee (Daniella) is probably the warmest character in the novel. The stranger (five years on) is her lover. Kayvee = KV = KidnapVictim.
Daniella will bake you cookies and she will cry if your puppy dies. If you press the right buttons. Rape or trying to take sexual advantage of a minor or somebody under the influence. Will probably do it. Almost like the hulk, KV comes back, hence during the novel she tries to cut somebody's tongue out, cuts somebody's throat and allows hersself to be raped, just so that another woman does not become a victim.
The piece you have read is supposed justify her actions and give the character creditbility.
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Re: d. Leroy (offensive content and subject matter) |
Author: stevenlabri (---.dsl.mindspring.com)
Date: 05-17-08 01:55
You're probably feeling a bit beaten at this point, but here is my two cents.
"in a catch twenty two situation"
What everyone said. Overwritten and a cliche in the first line.
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