Want to be a Better Writer

dglaurenson

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I want to be a better writer. I am just an amateur fan of erotic stories and have dabbled here a bit hoping to learn whether there is any talent to be developed. My first attempt was posted some time ago and have recently added some new material under the title "Her Dirty Secrets" in Novels and Novellas.

https://www.literotica.com/s/her-dirty-secrets-pt-01

Here is an excerpt from Part 1:

"With a final silent pep talk and a sigh she exited the car and walked across the street in shiny black four inch heels to a home she had never visited at 1:30 AM. With dread she knew before the night was over she would leave a small piece of herself there. It felt that way every time.

The small light by the door flashed on as she approached. She never knew for sure whether they were set off by motion detectors or by someone anxiously awaiting her arrival. They almost never answered the door right away and she could always sense being eyed through the tiny peepholes, voyeurs taking a last look before they finally revealed themselves to her. She never knew what to expect when the door opened".

After having played with this idea of being a writer I still don't really know whether I have anything to offer. Your comments would be greatly appreciated!
 
I want to be a better writer. I am just an amateur fan of erotic stories and have dabbled here a bit hoping to learn whether there is any talent to be developed. My first attempt was posted some time ago and have recently added some new material under the title "Her Dirty Secrets" in Novels and Novellas.



https://www.literotica.com/s/her-dirty-secrets-pt-01

Here is an excerpt from Part 1:

"With a final silent pep talk and a sigh she exited the car and walked across the street in shiny black four inch heels to a home she had never visited at 1:30 AM. With dread she knew before the night was over she would leave a small piece of herself there. It felt that way every time.

The small light by the door flashed on as she approached. She never knew for sure whether they were set off by motion detectors or by someone anxiously awaiting her arrival. They almost never answered the door right away and she could always sense being eyed through the tiny peepholes, voyeurs taking a last look before they finally revealed themselves to her. She never knew what to expect when the door opened".

After having played with this idea of being a writer I still don't really know whether I have anything to offer. Your comments would be greatly appreciated!


A little film noir?

She sighed. Nervously she exited the car - looked both ways - was there someone watching?

No she chided herself. Gave the quavering questioning part of her a pep talk as her shiny black stiletto heels pounded a staccato beat on the rain slick pavement. She strutted to the address she'd memorized, she'd never been to this dump, would never return.

Her mouth opened with a silent cold chuckle - that's if she lived through this encounter. It wasn't a guarantee, part of the bargain...

She dreaded this moment; before the grey false promise of a new day lit the concrete chasm she was in another little piece of her soul would be torn from her.

The cold beady eyes were there, she felt them on her like filthy hands soiling her clothes before the small light flashed. Once upon a time she'd wondered how the system worked - was there someone there watching? Motion sensors? She shook her head - she'd learned it wasn't her concern. No, what she needed to concentrate on was making sure she'd do whatever she was expected to once that door was opened.

Those cold nasty eyes watching her - undressing her even now - voyeurs taking their look of the merchandise before they let the warm meat cross their door. That's what she was... once she crossed that threshold it was anything demanded of her. She'd do it too, she had to.

She shivered in her coat - she was never told what 'they'd' want when she got the call. Part of her said it was better that way - she would have too much time to think about... things... as she drove to her assignments.
 
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After two chapters, I still don't know her name.

If the place she visits at the beginning doesn't play a part later on, there's no reason for that scene.

Zoom out and look at the uniformity of your paragraphs. Then open up a novel and look at a section with action and dialogue. You need more back-and-forth in both in a way that shows more rather than telling.

You have some confusing constructions.
With a final silent pep talk and a sigh she exited the car and walked across the street in shiny black four inch heels to a home she had never visited at 1:30 AM.

Had she never visited the home, or just never at 1:30 AM?

The "With dread" at the beginning of the next sentence adds nothing. You don't really know something with dread. The paragraph concludes with:
It felt that way every time.
. Only, we have no idea how anything has felt to her. There aren't any physiological clues as to her emotions. We're just told that it would feel like she had left a little piece of herself there.

Another mis-ordered construction:
This gentleman asked her to follow him and they went into the office at the back of the large home on the first floor.
It sounds like there's a large home on the first floor.

And this:
The door opened and she was greeted by an appreciative smile. "You are beautiful!" he gushed.
It sounds like he is the Cheshire Cat, invisible except for his "appreciative smile."

I just noticed that I keep saying "sounds like." Wondering now if you've tried reading this aloud. It might help.

I'm not an adverb Nazi, but I would recommend cutting a bunch of them here and finding stronger verbs. Try a search or find on "ly" and look for places to cut and strengthen. "Replied affirmatively" is an abomination, in my opinion.

Hope this helps.
 
First of all, people seem to like your writing. Not that that's end all be all, but something is working for a lot of people.

Six paragraphs in, I was like: "OK, she's working as a prostitute. Great. Why do I care?"

Nothing I read stirred any emotions in me, so I would ask of you - why are you interested in this person and in this moment in her life? The writing is all so matter-of-fact.

Later, I get that she has suffered loss, and you seem to make a point of distinguishing between her rote actions with her client and her solitary passion and longing. I would do more to draw that out sooner, if that's the point of the story. I skimmed the later chapters, and I still came away confused: what motivates her? What do you want me to feel towards her?

I also thought Combat323 had some really good points about the mechanics of your writing.
 
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