Thanks a lot for your input! Lately I’ve been thinking of cleaning this up a bit and trying to sell it; you’re points will all be considered as I try to make it better. Thanks again for your time and effort.
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Short Story / Soiree On the Styx (Analysis)
The sign proclaimed ‘Dewey’s Dogs ‘N’ Dee-lites!’ to a largely deserted thoroughfare. It was very late in the season, and such tourists as remained seemed tob have sought shelter indoors from the baking intensity of the late summer sun.
That same sun shone off the metal walls of the
diner, blinding those unwary or audacious enough
to focus their eyes directly upon the metallic cocoon. The previously mentioned sign, a simple blue field with faded gold letters, offered relief from the glare in addition to making known the name of the proprietor, one Dewey DeWitt. Some long-forgotten wag had dubbed him DeWittless, and the name had stuck in spite of Dewey’s best efforts to stamp it out. These efforts, arising as they did from a righteous indignation peculiar to the genuinely incompetent, had the polar opposite of their desired effect, not unlike a bucket brigade zealously battling a grease fire.
Surmounting both the walls and the sign, bestriding the roof of the diner like some improbable Colossus,was an extremely odd mascot. Apparently fearing people would misunderstand the Dogs appellation, Dewey had hired an old Army buddy,Chester Baumgarten, to construct for him an enormous representation of a smiling Frankfurter in order to illustrate this point. Chester, who had talent in an inverse proportion to his enthusiasm,completed this project in a single weekend of boozy inspiration. The results, while not strictly pleasing
from an aesthetic point of view, were more than satisfactory to Dewey, a man who had become accustomed to holding the minority opinion. Chester, who had seen horrors best left undescribed in the battle for Okinawa, went on to distinguish himself by going gloriously insane, finishing his inauspicious career with a triple homicide in a Cinncinatti tattoo parlor. Which, as Dewey liked to say, just goes to show ya.
Inside the diner, mercifully dim and cool, families of varying sizes filled nearly all the booths and tables. A ceiling fan whirred quietly, serving as a rythmic counterpoint to the hum of conversation. Fathers grunted replies to their wives while mentally calculating the length of the drive back to the City
in end-of-vacation traffic; mothers tried to keep up morale with brittle, chirpy bonhomie; small children, caught in the grip of that weariness brought about by excessive time in the sun, kicked the legs of their chairs and made petulant demands in voices calculated to annoy.
The staff was small and obviously overworked. Aside from the short order cook, a stocky man with a paper cap tilted rakishly over one eye who whistled under his breath while serving up French fries and milkshakes with an air of bland patronage, there was only one waitress; a slim, blonde young woman who somehow managed to maintain a cheerful facade as the day dragged itself along like a badly wounded gazelle.
Her long hair was gathered into a thick braid which hung to the middle of her back. Small wisps had slipped her control and clung in a damp tangle to her temples. She wore a name tag in the shape of a large plastic daisy, with the name Denise emblazoned across its face in bright yellow. This was not actually her name. The cook found enormous satisfaction in this innocent subterfuge, both in its execution and in the conspiratorial camaraderie it inspired.
Slowly the day wore away, with the customers growing fewer and fewer, until at last the cook
glanced up at the ancient wall clock and announced, “Ten minutes, folks!”
The waitress immediately began fussing with the
blinds, collecting salt and pepper shakers, rattling coffee cups, and generally implementing all the time-tested cues at her commmand to suggest the time to finish up and move along had come.
”And so much for THAT!” she said, flipping the sign that hung in the door from Open to Closed as the last of the squalling children were herded out by the last of the harried adults. Placing both hands on the small of her back, she arched herself backwards and sighed.
“My back is KILLING me!” she said.
”Take it easy! You’ll do yourself a mischief if you go on in that reckless fashion!” said the cook, smiling at her across the chipped and faded expanse of the counter. She laughed and straightened, and together they began to clean up the accumulated mess in preperation for a new day. He mopped the floor with
swift, practiced movements while she cleared the last of the tables, adding the soiled dishes to the impressive stack already in the sink, a precarious tower of cheap, serviceable crockery.He watched her from the corner of his eye, all the while whistling under his breath. He missed all the high notes,expelling his breath in a sibilant hiss when he
did so.
They worked in a companionable silence, filling the condiments, straightening the tables and chairs,wiping the dried ketchup from the garish orange table tops of the booths that lined the walls. The napkin dispensers were filled, the silverware laid out like
so many austere foot soldiers aligned against a foe who had yet to make its appearance.
Having restored the public area to a pristine
condition, they turned their attention to the dishes.The smell of industrial soap and disinfectant masked the odors of old grease and deep fried fat as the sink was made ready, and steam arose from the depths carrying with it errant bubbles of irridescent brevity.
”Flip you for rinsing and stacking,” she said,
bringing forth a tarnished dime from the pocket
of her faded jeans.
He knew she disliked putting her hands into the
overly hot diswater. “Sorry. I’m opposed to
gambling on religious grounds. Didn’t I tell you?” He took a small scrub brush from where it hung on a nail and plunged a flotilla of coffee mugs beneath the soapy waves.
She held up her hands, palms out and fingers
splayed, and inspected her nails with a critical eye.
“Guess it wouldn’t matter much either way. First thing I’m doing when I get back to civilization is having a manicure!”
“Life as a commoner not agreeing with you, Your Ladyship?” he said, and they laughed.
“It’s the grand old story!” she said, striking a cartoonishly dramatic pose. “Poor little farm girl struggles through college and Makes Good! Waiting tables on the road to fame and fortune!”
“Coming soon to a movie theater near you!” he
cried, holding the scrub brush up as though it
were a microphone. Soap suds dripped unheeded on the floor. ‘Starring Gregory Peck and Sophia
Loren!”
She wrinkled her nose and giggled. “Well, I can see you as Gregory Peck, but Sophia Loren? What is she, fifty? How about Carrie Fisher instead?”
”Who’s Carrie Fisher?”
”You know! That actress from Star Wars?”
”Never heard of her, but if it’ll make you happy I’ll have my people make some calls.”
Again they laughed, the easy laughter of people who do not need to work at making conversation. He found himself working as slowly as possible, scrubbing surfaces to a mirror finish.
“Oh!’ she exclaimed suddenly, ‘I still owe you four dollars, remember?” He did remember. Her first week had been rough for her, and he had found her in the parking lot one night crying and trying to place a long distance
telephone call to her parents. He had impulsively
loaned her the few bills in his pocket, overcome with sudden sympathy for her plight, suprised that he hadn’t noticed before that her eyes were quite beautiful.
“Aw, forget about it!” he said. “Just part of the benefits package here at the house o’ Delights. Keep it for your college fund.”
He plunged a coffee pot into the rinsing water and his hand brushed hers, scooping silverware from the disinfected depths. He stood still while the contact lasted.
“You know, I’m going to miss working with you. Ol’ DeWittless just doesn’t have your charm,” he said, carefully avoiding looking at her.
“Why, thank you! I’m going to miss all the goofy but entertaining stuff you say; but I won’t miss working here at all!” She delivered this last with an air of unshakeable conviction, as if her views on Dewey’s had been challenged by an unruly and confrontational audience.
The crockery tower had by this time gone from
mountain to molehill, and from there had dwindled to nothing. As they dried their hands on the towel roll mounted by the time clock he became very quiet.
”You know,’ he said, his voice far too casual, ‘If you give me your address I can drop you a line sometime, see how classes are going. If you wanted.”
“Sure, sounds OK.” she said. Tearing a sheet from an order pad she bent to the counter, writing swiftly. He watched her hand as she wrote, her slender fingers
bending and flexing around the pencil. She finished and handed him the slip, which he carefully folded and put in his pocket.
They let themselves out the back door and he
locked it behind them, double checking to make sure he had done so. The night was still far too warm, but a breeze had arisen and the worst of the humidity was past. The air smelled of creosote and ozone. It was nearly full dark, and Venus stood out clearly just above the manically grinning hot dog on the roof.
“Well, that about does it!” she cried gaily,
flinging her arms wide in a victory salute. “You
take care, and don’t let Dewey give you any static! Thanks for everything!”she added, somewhat cryptically.
He watched her walk down the sidewalk, back towards the tiny dorm she shared with two other
girls working through the tourist season. She didn’t glance back.
After she was lost to his view, he sat down on the bench outside the diner and lit a cigarette, his first of the day. The nicotine made him feel a little dizzy,and he leaned his head against the backrest, gazing blankly into the sky. He suddenly yanked the paper cap
from his head, crumpling it into a ball before tossing it aside, and ran an experimental hand over his thinning, receding hair. Carrie Fisher! Sounded like a Sunday School teacher, if you asked him.The ash from his smoke dropped onto his pants, and he brushed it impatiently to the ground. Remembering suddenly, he pulled the slip she had given him from his pocket, unfolded it, and sat squinting in the dim sodium glow. Her handwriting was suprisingly inelegant, the unclosed loops of the letters and clumsily formed vowels striking him as
almost boyish.
He looked at it for a very long time, thinking. It occurred to him to wish that he’d asked her for the name tag instead. Slowly he tore the paper into tiny strips, tossing them up and watching as the breeze carried them away in the direction she had so recently
taken. After awhile he smoked another cigarette.
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smileygirl reviewed Version 1 -
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Chester, who had talent in an inverse proportion to his enthusiasm,completed this project in a single weekend of boozy inspiration.
Hi there. First of all, WOW. You have some serious talent going on. Your vocabulary is excellent, and the written descriptions here are stunning. You make good associations and connections, such as,”A ceiling fan whirred quietly, serving as a rythmic counterpoint to the hum of conversation”.
What I would watch out for…
Some of your sentences are too long. This sentence could easily be broken into two and would read easier. Otherwise there is no time to take a mental breath.
”And so much for THAT!” she said, flipping the sign that hung in the door from Open to Closed (.) as (T)he last of the squalling children were herded out by the last of the harried adults.
While your descriptions are extremely well done, it may be useful to ask yourself if they truly add to the story, or further the plot in any way. Parts of the story feel verbose, and unecessary. For example, why does the reader need to know that the silverware was “laid out like
so many austere foot soldiers aligned against a foe who had yet to make its appearance”? Or that the “smell of industrial soap and disinfectant masked the odors of old grease and deep fried fat”?
Your character development is good here, as well. However, I did find myself wishing there was something more to the plot. If you can combine your excellent writing with an excellent story idea, I see no reason why you couldn’t be published. Nice work! (: Favorites for you! (:
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BrianA reviewed Version 1 -
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This is the sort of story I really enjoy reading. It is down to earth, clever and amusing. It has a purpose and meaning, which is framed by the title. It is about the death of a relationship, however humble and fleeting. We witness the last hurrah.
`Some long-forgotten wag (had) dubbed him DeWittless, and the name (had) stuck in…’
...Dewey (had) hired…’
Do a search through your text for `had’ also `that’ – these are indicators of passive voice. Often they can simply be done without. Try to rephrase to replace with active verb. It makes text more direct. Suggest have a look at George Orwell’s Writing tips in the Forum.
`an air of bland patronage’ – didn’t understand this – he is a patron? Allegiance? As in `blind allegiance’
`...backwards and sighed.
“My back is KILLING me!” she said.’ – First thought was to drop `she said’ – you don’t need it. Given the exclamation –thought `sighed’ in previous sentence a bit light, and to me, related to forward movement collapsing of chest. Thought maybe `groaned’.
You have a great turn of phrase and there are many, many great metaphors in the text. `voices calculated to annoy’ , `the day dragged itself along like a badly wounded gazelle’ . I’d say, looking at your prose, you are very well read, as you appear practiced in conventions.
One point – you have appended to attributions. This may be a matter of style, however it does bring the story-teller forward into the text. So it is suggested that instead of being an observation on an action or character, it becomes an action. E.g. `...THAT!” She flipped the sign…’ & `...fashion!” The cook smiled at her across the chipped…’ & `stacking.” She brought forth…’ – by doing this the need for attribution in unnecessary as it is obvious by accompanying action who is speaking. `...story!” She struck a cartoonishly dramatic pose. “Poor…’
`The crockery tower had by this time gone from
mountain to molehill, and from there had dwindled to nothing.’ – several things I didn’t like about this. First logically inconsistence in allusion i.e. tower being mountain. Also `by this time’ – intimating at present time i.e. now – followed by `from there had dwindled to nothing.’ – you see the confusion I do? So it wasn’t the present before, because otherwise in what `time’ did it `dwindle to nothing’.
`...receding hair. Carrie Fisher!’ – good sub-texting, increased cohesion within story. The realities of age known to the chef (doesn’t stop him imagining – though nothing really literal) are handled subtly and well by you.
In the end didn’t see the point of him wishing he’d asked for name tag – because he’ll have to supply another one, wants to extend tradition to next waitress, is a company man (tags don’t grow on trees). It wasn’t her actual name. I’d be considering omitting. The last sentence also seemed purposeless, after the image of the torn paper following after the departed girl.
Good work. Good luck with the story. You definitely have a talent.
MidnightSama reviewed Version 1 -
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I have to say that at least up to page 5 was pretty interesting. I liked how the guy tried his best to find a way to keep in contact with her. But what got to me from the beginning was how much sophisticated language you used. You tried to add simplistic charm to a story that used a lot of fancy words; if you talk like that in real life kudos to that XD.
Anyways, a story should every now and then incorporate such words to add a powerful style to the book, makes it stand out more. Also, for third person narratives, make it have it’s own unique narration. This will make people imagine someone is telling this story; at least I find that a pretty good way to go.
Also it would be best if you introduce the characters as soon as you can. That way the plot will get into motion and trap your readers into reading! ^ Plot developes the story, it’s not a good idea to stall it. When the plot began to take motion I noticed the change in language. I wanted to see what would happen incidentally. So hopefully this offers you some advice.
I’m sorry this might take a lot of credits so… yeah ^;; Keep writing, you have some interesting story ideas here! Good luck!
occupational_hedonist reviewed Version 1 -
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Firstly I like the dialogue. I think it is well executed and flows nicely. I do think that the characters could do with a little more expansion and enhancement though.
Another thing is you use a lot of unnecessary metaphors and adjectives, I would simplify a lot of the sentences you have here because it just sounds like you are trying to show off. I think in a story like this simple would have more impact. It makes it very hard to read when it looks like you have desperately gone through a thesaurus to find fancy descriptions.
You have talent, but it comes across as if you are trying too hard. Relax your style a bit and I think this could be a very nice piece.
littlegreenpills reviewed Version 1 -
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Hoo boy, you asked for it. I like the overall storyline, but damn it needs a lot of work. Where do I start – first of all I think you need to pick a tone and stick to it. I’m talking in terms of light and sardonic (which is how it starts) versus wistful and evocative (how it ends). It rapidly turns towards the latter, so I guess the easiest task would be to rework the opening paragraph a little. Frankly the attempt there at wit falls flat, because you keep putting in things that don’t need to be there. Take this sentence:
“That same sun (you don’t need to say “that same”, there’s only one sun in this star system) shone off the metal walls of the diner, blinding those unwary or audacious (just “unwary”) enough to focus their eyes directly upon the metallic cocoon (why does it have to be a cocoon? What’s wrong with just “them”? Cocoons aren’t intrinsically hilarious.)
and here
“These efforts, arising as they did from a righteous indignation peculiar to the genuinely incompetent, had the polar opposite of their desired effect (it’s clear what you mean and the idea is funny but the deliberately affected style gets in the way rather than adding to the humour) , not unlike a bucket brigade zealously battling a grease fire. (imagery in the last bit is nice and worth keeping, shame about the rest of the sentence)
I do like the character of the cook; he’s a funny guy who as yet can’t get any girls with his sharp wit. He says goofy and hi’falutin’ things for the fun of it. However I think it would be better if this was described before he has his first such line “You’ll do yourself a mischief if you go on in that reckless fashion!” I pictured these words coming out of the mouth of a hairy armed fry cook and scratched my head. In a screenplay you can get away with such an abrupt introduction (assuming the acting is half decent) but in a story when it just comes out of nowhere like that, it merely seems like plain bad dialogue.
Do keep at it, it’s a cool storyline and I think you could make something really good of it. Just be aware that you should never make anything more complicated than its purpose requires, whether that purpose is describing an object, setting a mood, cracking a joke, or just moving the action on.
Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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A suggestion, “Dewey’s Dogs ‘N’ Dee-Lites!” a large sign proclaimed to the deserted thoroughfare. It was very late in the season and the remaining tourists had sought cooler refuge indoors—away from the baking intensity of the summer sun.”
The sentence, “That same sun…” is a bit clunky. I had to read over it a few times to try and grasp the meaning. Perhaps consider just cutting it. Also, phrases such as “that same sun” or “the previously mentioned sign” aren’t necessary as they’re superfluous and just detract from the pleasure of reading the story. I do however, like the last sentence of the first paragraph immensely.
serving as a rythmic / rhythmic
The narrative in the second paragraph seems to be supported by a bunch of unnecessarily long descriptions: “Surmounting both the walls and the sign…” and “Apparently fearing people would misunderstand the Dogs appellation…” make my mind spin and go Whaaat? Writing about architecture is hard, that much I know, but please consider more clean and less jarring descriptions. The ideas however, I find brilliant. The character descriptions are quite good, but just bogged down by this word scaffolding.
“Fathers grunted replies…” Yes, this is a dead-on description of people and reality. Same thing with, “…in voices calculated to annoy.” Quite astute social observation!
“…like a badly wounded gazelle.” If this is the small interstate desert town that I’m imagining it to be, perhaps use an animal that is associated with that area—a coyote, or a possum, some critter that got hit by a semi-truck.
commmand to suggest / command
“My back is KILLING…” This sentence could just be talked onto the last paragraph and then delete the “she said”.
preperation for a new day / preparation
bubbles of irridescent brevity. / iridescent
overly hot diswater. / dishwater.
I really like the banter between the cook and the waitress. The dialogue is excellent and plays well into what I imagine the end of a hot day in a diner is like.
plight, suprised that he / surprised
I’ve noticed that there are a lot of “he/she said”. The great thing about conversation between only two characters is that there’s usually very little confusion on the part of the reader who’s doing the talking. A few don’t hurt, but for the back and forth stuff, I don’t think it’s necessary.
“mountain to molehill” Avoid clichés like “the plague!”
but a breeze had arisen / a breeze was blowing
handwriting was suprisingly / surprisingly
The story was good. It kept my interest. The interactions between the two seemed very realistic and the super-keen observations about people were insightful. The drawbacks that I saw were in the more technical aspects of the writing. BUT, a technical ability does not a great writer make—it’s the ideas. And ideas and imagery this story has in spades. (Pardon the cliché, I just try to keep them out of my prose…Reviewing is a different ballgame.) A great book is The Elements of Style for its great insights. It’s also just interesting to read from a writer’s standpoint. Great story overall, just needs some polishing. Thanks for sharing.
-Curt
crh86 reviewed Version 1 -
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What a subtle story, really beautifully written! I am really impressed at how smartly you created the setting and gave us information about the characters. A very enjoyable read, you don’t have to become a good writer because you definitely already are one!
I think the story would be improved overall if you gave the reader a bit more personal information and material about the cook. He turns out to be the character we align with at the end, the one we are supposed to feel for, and I think all you would need is one or two lines about his background/history, etc. and we would jump in more completely to the ending. I think we know a little more about the owner and the sign maker than the cook, so I would balance that out to give your ending more impact. But then again if you are going to take this further, if this is just a 1st chapter, it’s fine for us to know about Dewey, if he’s coming back later.
And so much of it is beautifully written, but I think you can afford to look at what material actually brings the story forward. Some of the dialogue between the cook and waitress seems too slight to me, too mundane, as does some of the clean up descriptions. It feels like you are telling the reader some things we either already know or are not needed for the story. For instance, a line like “A ceiling fan whirred quietly, serving as rhythmic counterpoint to the hum of conversation” does not have enough meat or content in it, in my opinion. It sets the stage but is not telling enough. It’s almost like saying “a ceiling fan was there and acted pretty much like a ceiling fan” I don’t mean to sound too nit-picky, my point has to do with making everything work for your specific purposes and cutting out things that are simply background or bland.
Overall I would look at how you can be more economical with both your sentences and your content. I would cut a little of the mundane stuff out, give us a little more on the cook, and then send this baby out to be published!
A few more specifics to take or leave:
The title is great- different and engaging
First line is great.
Second line is too passive in structure- you could change it to something like “the remaining tourists sought shelter indoors from the baking, late summer sun.” “baking” and “intensity” almost communicate the same thing, you could eliminate one.
Also beware of “seemed” -it can just water a sentence down.
The next sentence is great- beautifully written, I might add the “exterior” walls of the diner, or outside walls or something to let the reader know the shiny walls are outdoors. The next sentence could also be shorter and communicate the same thing- “The sign, a simple blue field with faded gold letters, offered relief from the glare, and made known (or revealed, or indicated, or introduced, or adverstised) the name of the proprietor, one Dewey DeWitt.” Next sentence – about the long forgotten wag- is great! Then again you can economize the next one, “These efforts, arising from..”(get rid of “as they did”). But what a beautifully conceived line! Revealing so much about the character and the setting- wow- really impressive!
Next line I would change “was an extremely old mascot” to something more active. I would start the sentence “An extremely old mascot surmounted both the walls and the sign..” or something like that, just find a way to take out the dead “was”.”
This line is also great- “talent in inverse proportion to his enthusiasm, completed this project in a single weekend of boozy inspiration.” Wow! Again this tells us so much about the character, the setting and the story- really beautifully done.
I also love “man who had become accustomed to holding the minority opinion” – incredible!
“voices calculated to annoy” is great!
I think you could get away with eliminating “obviously” from overworked- I think it would have more punch and conviction.
“Badly wounded gazelle” to describe the day is amazing!
Economize a little “She wore a name tag in the shape of a large plastic daisy, with bright yellow letters reading “Denise.” Or something like that.
I think you could cut out a little of the clean up description- only because it is routine and a little predictable for the reader, doesn’t tell us what we wouldn’t already project onto the situation. The paragraph starting “They worked in a companionable silence” doesn’t tell us anything new, I think you could remove it (though it is beautifully written).
Small thing but I would remove one of the adjectives from “tarnished dime” or “faded jeans” – either tarnished or faded.
I think “carefully avoiding looking at her” is great!
I also like “her slender fingers bending and flexing around the pencil” – really beautiful!
Great, great read! I’m going to become an official fan if I can figure out how to do that. Thanks!
acdoyler reviewed Version 1 -
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“and such tourist AS remained seemed tob have sought…” how about – and the tourists that remained had sought…
some of your word choices seem…suspect. Surmount, bestriding, etc. i realize the definitions fit for the most part but they seem awkward to me. bonhomie? I’m not sure if you got the thesaurus out or what, but those words jump out from your context, this is a story about a cook and a waitress, smells of creosote and ozone aren’t relevant, Cormac. a clever word or two don’t make the story, the story makes the story.
i hope my tone doesn’t sound to judgmental. i like the narrative, minus the crazy words.
“the day dragged itself on like a badly wounded gazelle.” graphic image, but appropriate to describe time passing in a diner?
“maniacally grinning” might sound better as “the maniac grin of the hot dog” or “the got dog’s maniac grin” but say maniacally outloud ten times and you’ll see what i’m sayin :-)
I liked the way you ended it, and overall I liked the story.
LoBo reviewed Version 1 -
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General comments first: Be careful of typos. Easy enough for anyone to make, not overly glaring, but they can get away from your and become frustrating.
More specific, I would ask that you be careful of your imagery. You describe the diner as a ‘metal cocoon’ in the same breath as you say it blinds those ‘audacious enough’ to look upon it. I’ve never really meditated on the audacity necessary to look at a cocoon before, but I don’t think it’s all that much. Consider this when you’re writing: the imagery you use is being used as short-hand for lengthy description. You could give the dimensions of the diner,the angle of curvature in its roof, and the shapes and number of windows that cover it – but you probably don’t want to. Imagery cuts all this out with a word or two, but the words interacting with your imagery need to be smooth as well. Audacity, to me, does not jive with cocoon.
But, moving on, I found the story to be engaging and it pushed me to continue reading all the way through to the end. It was a good story, I feel. However, despite these praises, I also felt that sometimes the dialogue felt quite stilted. The characters always seem to be posing and shouting and what have you, and it strikes me as odd, but maybe that is just me. Any revisions I suggest would be to simply spellcheck and then go over to confirm all errors are fixed, perhaps tweak a few analogies and images. Otherwise, I enjoyed reading it. Well done.
-LoBo
MoJoe reviewed Version 1 -
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~ You capture the environment great. The restaurant forms clearly in mind, right down to that doggie mascot and the customers inside. I love the backstory about old DeWittless. In fact, I wish he could have been in the story somehow.
~ I wish you had put the same work into your characters as you did the restaurant. To me, there is no connection between them and the restaurant, other than they work there. Who are they, really? Why is her last day so important? Why does he wish he had her nametag, instead? Why is she using a fake name? I would guess you’re scratching the surface as to this story.
~ Watch your gerunds (words ending in ‘-ing’) with your characters; too many of them gets tough to read. Also, you use too many synonyms for “said.” Words like “exclaimed,” “cried” and “added” border on exaggeration. And way too many exclamation points in your quotes. Reserve that punctuation mark for intense emotion.
~ There’s a handful of typos; E-mail me if you need help spotting them.
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