VanFevor, The Reader
Recent PostsInteractive Fiction Database on 9/14/2018 10:43:01 AM
Looks cool! I'll give it a look when I have the time!
Just tossing out an idea for critiquing. on 6/29/2018 12:00:47 PM
Haha my bad. I accidentally logged on with the old account. That won’t happen again, especially since I now know the atmosphere.
Just tossing out an idea for critiquing. on 6/28/2018 2:06:55 PM
Thanks for the feedback. Let me just ask as to how to grasp the reader's attention with a strong opening? How would one go about doing that?
Just tossing out an idea for critiquing. on 6/27/2018 12:57:58 PM
Ok so basically I just wrote this short little piece to try and work on story elements and to get feedback on the flow of my writing. I don't care how harsh it is I just plead for some feedback. (passive voice too much)?
The fetid scents of garbage, cigarettes, and booze made known to Vince Wilson that he was in the right place. The area he roamed was the same place he’d lived his whole life. A carcass of the city, formerly exploited as a new development years ago, had failed and had been left to rot by city officials. Plagued with crime, unemployment, welfare dependency, race hustlers, gang/gun/drug culture and degenerate broken single mothers (with 3 or more kids from multiple fathers), the area made known to many in the city to avoid it.
Vince’s eyes squinted at the yellow glaze from the flickering street lamp; the last functioning one on the street.. It stood next to the bus stop and provided sheltering light from the hostile darkness. Vince always noticed the faint buzzing noise it made that split the airwaves everytime it flickered. As he made his way down the block, Vince felt slightly dizzy and unbalanced, yet his senses were still sharp and keen for the possible threats that awaited. Without much thought to it, Vince pulled out his smartphone and decided to respond to his Snapchats.
“Shit.” Vinny thought while checking the time on his phone, hoping maybe my parents forgot about him, or that they had fallen asleep. He knew he was late, but 3 hours past curfew, especially around here, was sure to make his mother flip out. Vince shoved his phone back into his pocket.
The street was empty with most of the flats’ windows dark. There was a tacit understanding of the neighborhood folks that you didn’t go out past 11; at least for most of them. He had only walked about a block or two and could see the faint outline of his flat lat stood up like a square hunk of concrete.
Vince sat down at the bus stop that stood mere yards away from the entrance to his flat. As he stepped into the light, his features became more apparent and visible.
Vince looked around his mid to late teens and boasted an impressive muscular build. He wore a black hoodie, faded denim jeans, and a pair of worn out blue converses to complete his look. Vince has fair skin, snub nose, and collar length messy long hair yet his most distinguishing features are the freckles and almond-shaped green eyes that seem to look into another's soul.
He needed the time to think and escape reality for a few more precious minutes. Looking around across the street, Vince glared surrounding three flats on the street. Each had enough space between them to form alleyways. His eyes averted to the lights in the windows across the street that were dimly illuminated in the night sky. Tracing his eyes up each story of the buildings and looking at the windows. Vince could see a girl his age from around 3 floors up, but before he could get a good look the lights were out. As he kept scanning counted about 5 other lights still on from the flat. One of which had the news playing from a bright tv screen in a dark room. Something he would usually watch from his bedroom window, not outside. As another gust of wind blew, Vince felt paper rub up against the heel of his shoe.
Looking down, Vince saw a beaten up newspaper crinkled up by the wind. He could see the headlines in big bold ink: MYSTERIOUS BURGLARS ROB LIQUOR STORE! All Vince could do is snicker. Everyone around here knew who the culprits were. The Drumlins no doubt. A gang that had set up shop here years ago. Vince threw the paper to the ground. It’d be a waste to read. Suddenly bright headlights of a cop car turned the corner. Routine around this area.
“Damn it,” Vince muttered knowing he had to act calm and think fast. The cop had spotted him already and would be of no use to dart into his flat now. The cops around these parts were seen as corrupt and shady by some, claiming they offer no asylum from the dangers around here. Pulling up next to Vince, the officer rolled it down and revealing an overweight, diamond faced man with a bushy mustache and snub nose. His deep brown eyes looked tattered with wear and age. His voice cut through the silence in the air,
“Hey, What the bloody hell are you doing out this late. It's almost 3 in the morning. I wouldn’t recommend being out here this time of night. I can drive you away to a local shelter west four blocks. There have been bands of thieves roaming around and I’m sent to patrol around these parts.”
I stuttered for a moment noticing the officers lurid teeth. Vince took note that the officer suspected he was a homeless adult and played along, cajoling to the officer.
“That won’t be necessary officer. I live in this flat. Just couldn’t get to bed with my rent payments around the corner. It’s hard to break pay over here.” Vince lied.
“I understand. I strongly suggest you head to your flat. Especially with the crime here. ”
“I’ll be on my way then.”
“Ok then, you be safe then.”
As the officer drove away, Vince noticed something superficial about him yet he could place a finger as to what it was. Vince entered his flat compound and walked slowly up the stairwell longing to plop down on his bed. When reaching apartment number, Vince pulled out his key and opened up the door slowly. A slight creak could be heard. Vince saw the TV screen on and realized his hopes of being able to sneak back in were certainly crushed. Suddenly from behind the lazy-boy chair, Vince’s sister Cassie, appeared.
“Where were you? Your three hours late! You got mom and I worried sick about you.” she implored immediately. He was shocked to see his sister back at his place. She had moved out months ago.
“Where’s Mom,” Vince asked longingly ignoring her request.
“Mom is in bed. I told her I’d cover the late shift. I take it you were hanging with those douchebag friends of yours.”
Although Vince was thankful that it wasn’t his mom he’d have to face, Cassie was practically her puppet.
“I lost track of time. I was over a Todd Gutsman’s house. He’s only like two blocks down.”
“Mom said you were going to Mrs. Colfax’s house to help cook for service hours.”
I shrugged, “I finished early and Todd texted me if I wanted to come over. I sent mom a text,” I lied, “What are you doing here! You should be at your place!” I said trying to change the subject.
Cassie’s face filled with anger, Mom invited me to stay here because my place has a water leak. That doesn’t excuse why you're out till 3 in the morning. There have been crimes going around. We almost called the cops on you.”
Vince decided to ignore and make his way toward his room. Cassie snatched the back of his hood and stood close face to face with him.
“What the hell Vince! I can smell the alcohol from your breath. Mom is going to throw a fit when she hears about this!”
“Why do you care so much anyway. Look at what we’re living in Cassie. This place is a piece of shit. You really expect us to become angels from living in a world like this. Go live your life and I’ll live mine.”
Vince went into his room and slammed the door. Anger and guilt filled him and cut into his emotions. He shut off the lights and plopped down onto his small bed. Vince felt trapped. Trapped by his decisions, trapped by his family, and most of all, trapped by society in a world he wanted to escape to bad. That feeling that dug into his soul and scarred him deep down settled into him as he slept.
Rogues Published (Finally) on 6/22/2018 10:31:41 AM
I'll give it a read.
Ireland devouring her children on 6/20/2018 9:45:36 AM
I understand. Sorry for being too quick to judge.
Cyberbitching and Meowing on 6/19/2018 11:15:04 PM
This isn't a therapy center the last time I checked...
Ireland devouring her children on 6/19/2018 11:03:55 PM
My cousin has a form of down-syndrome and I treat her like family. It wasn't her choice dude. Don't hate on people with disabilities that don't have the ability to defend themselves. I respect your stance but just please don't be a dick about it.
Lame Idea tossed out there for improvement. on 1/14/2018 2:04:59 PM
Alright, good advice :) Thanks for all the help. I'll be back eventually to share another story idea, but it was great to get feedback from an experienced writer. (No I'm not a sycophant) Until next time,
Lame Idea tossed out there for improvement. on 1/14/2018 1:48:12 PM
Thanks. Right after I finish writing something I always just want to post it without taking the time to review it. My passive voice definitely highlights the weakness of my writing. Thank you for the tips. I have so many story ideas it's just hard to put them to paper. I talk to myself sometimes (I know it's weird) and it really helps me envision things more clearly whether it be a story or just an assignment.
I accidently made the font size smaller. My apologies.