ShabookiSkittles

This particular story begins as our protagonist, Tyrone, swings open

the creaky doorway to his apartment and reaches up instinctively to flip the

lightswitch. He immediatly begins his sluggish walk towards the tile-floor

corner of the living room (or in other words, the kitchen). He stops in front of

the grimy sink full of dishes and looks down at the miserly little sliver of soap.

The tiny white bar escapes his grasp multiple times as he tries his hardest to

keep a hold on it. Eventually, he decides his hands are soapy enough, turns

the cold knob all of the way over, and begins rinsing them off. An tremor of

pain courses through his hand and forearm as cool water aggravates the

newly recieved grease burn on his palm. He rinses the remaining soap off of

his still throbbing hands, and wonders whether he will be going to the frat

party later that night. Once his hands look as clean as possible Tyrone looks

around at the kitchen's enclosure and comes to the realization that every

wall in his apartment is white. "Coke", he suddenly thinks to himself, "Coke

would get me feeling up for that party in no time." Fortunately, he

remembers that he has recently purchased some and hidden it so that his

son (or anyone else for that matter) won't stumble across it. Unfortunately,

he has forgotten WHERE he has hidden it. "Well, it's obviously not in the

refridgerator," he chuckles to himself, "That would be a hell of a hiding place

for that." He searches all of the usual places: drawers, matresses, even the

attic, but to no avail. The search ensues for quite a while and a frustrated

Tyrone is about ready to call it quits when he hears unusually excited

screams coming from his son's bedroom. "Oh my god" is all he can think to

himself as he watches his eight year old son run wildly back and forth,

occasionally slamming himself into the nearly paperthin walls. He forcefully

grabs his son by the arm. "How the fuck am I going to convince anyone to

watch you like THIS?" So, instead of chilling at a party that night, poor

Tyrone had to stay home, make sure his son couldn't destroy his shit, and

scrub the Coke out of his landlord's carpet.

Moral: Don't just leave your Coke lying around man.

Fyodor

Try saying "the tile-floor kitchen next to the living room," or something like that. So that you don't need to use the "A.K.A. ...." part.



This is just my personal preference, but I like to use either commas or dashes rather then parentheses.



You also might want to put some spacings in between paragraphs and dialogues so that you don't end up with a wall of text that's difficult to read.

Other than that, I thought it was good.

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“Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.” --James Joyce


Critique me and I'll do my best to help you.

Fyodor

I worded this wrong, sorry. I mean, make it so it's more than one big paragraph--split it up.

Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text.

Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text.

"Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue."

"Dialogue Dialogue Dialogue."

Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text Text.

__________________
“Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.” --James Joyce


Critique me and I'll do my best to help you.

dhyre

I understand that you wanted a all knowing, all seeing narrator for this piece but it did not work in the manner in which you wrote it. It sounds like how I plan my scenes out before I actually write them.

I actually could not finish reading it, I found the narrator to be too much of a blockage.

I would recommend that you try re-writing it, from another point of view.

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*** correction: Writing is about individuality, breaking the rules, testing new grounds, listening to ourselves. That's why we do it, to show we are individuals, we are human and because everyone's idea deserves a chance, even if you don't think so.