February Sucks in LW

I have read a few of the FS stories, and stories that has spawned from it. This thread has been very enlightening when it comes to how these tropes have been birthed. I get that anger is an addictive feeling, but for me it's just me upping my anxiety meds and that's not good. Knowing that the original author wrote it as a pure nightmare makes sense so much, it hits all the insecurity points in a male psyche resulting in a devastation of the reader. Being able to illicit those feeling so well must be a proud achievement for a writer, even tho you don't like the source material.

I do like good Reconciliation stories tho, but it's been influenced too much of FS stories in my opinion. One part is usually devoid of any emotions, and keep insisting they did nothing wrong. Making the Reconciliation feel forced in the end. So few of those stories have the cheater try to make an effort to make amends at all. They just say "sorry" a lot but have few if any actions to show it. Instead of having a dive into why they should be taken back, it just ends in therapy drama or the victim getting ground down to accept it.

A big rant to just say that we should get new tropes to influence, because FS stories are just cheap horror stories at this point.
 
it's not the only thing that's. over represented on here,there's way to many cuckolding stores.
wouldn.t be to bad if it wasn't the same old,same old.story line.guy has a very small dick
wives come home and tells him about the big cock her lover has ............be nice to see someone who
think's outside the box for once.
LW has always been about extra-marital fun. It didn't use to be inhabited by angry little fake macho guys who scream about it.

However, I do agree that many of those stories rate a 2, because they generally do not belong in LW, but in Fetish, because if you have sph, chastity, and overt humiliation, there is no loving wife. I can say the same about the little morality tales that all have the same plot. They also get nothing more than a 2
 
Last edited:
We work in a very narrow genre. Actually, at LW there are -- largely, and with exceptions -- two genres. There is what I'll call the 'hot wife/happy cuck' one, and there is the 'cheating wife' one. I'm discussing the second one. Narrow, narrow, narrow. The narrowness problem affects all genres: romance stories, crime fiction, war stories, spy novels, superhero tales, dystopias, fanfiction, you name it. So, we're not alone.

The problem, from the standpoint of a writer, is to craft something that's not utterly derivative. That's tough, maybe impossible for most of us. Hell, we're amateurs fiddling with ideas and words in our spare time. Now, if you focus on a specific story, call it, oh, "February Sucks," your options get further compressed. If most cheating wife stories are thrice-told tales, most FS stories must be -- yeah.

Yet, I've read some really clever FS spinoffs. Some really good ones. It's not completely impossible, at least for a few of us (not me--I'm pretty sure I'll never add to the collection of FS spinoffs). From the standpoint of a reader, the job is to find those exceptions, and then to enjoy them, upvote them, and write wonderful comments.

I'm sure nobody has heard that here first.
 
you're 100% correct about the two camps Jekyll... and they act like oil and water in the comments section.

The two camps can be connected through the story though. 'Hot wife/happy cuck' is generally a stroke story, but when the loving wife/affair partner cross the line and offends a reader's personal moral-code, then it's natural for the reader to want the story to become a relationship drama full of consequences.

That's how I got to enjoy both types of story for different reasons. I once read a hotwife story, it was arousing until the wife or affair partner was disrespectful/offensive towards the husband, I found it upsetting, the author took the story down the divorce/revenge route and gave the victimized husband a happy ending. The story caused me to be introspective, ask myself why I was offended and why I enjoyed the minutia of the consequences.

Since realizing this, I think I've enjoy relationship dramas more than longer stroke stories. They're typically more interesting and well-written; can be exceptionally creative, engaging, dramatic, uplifting, romantic and moral; and it's soothing to escape the chaos of our modern news-day into a 'simple' story where bad people are served justice and innocent/wounded victims find a way forward.
 
The problem with the February Sucks story is that it's very well written and easily elicits one's emotions and fears while reading it. It's very much like reading a horror story where a couple drive into a town where evil lurks just below the surface but they can't see it yet until it's too late. Of course such a story would be fiction, but if well written and paced correctly, it can bring up various emotions within you that at the end will have you quivering in your chair at the horror of it all.

That is the case with February Sucks in that you have a long term, happily married couple on a romantic weekend with their best friends. It's established they have no issues and are madly in love with each other. Then the "monster" in the form of the football player arrives and whisked the wife away for a night of blissful sex that she later describes as the best sex she's ever had in her entire life. It's a great story beginning and as I read it, I was wondering what the husband's reaction would be. Would divorce papers be waiting for her? Perhaps he would be gone with the kids, never to be seen again. Maybe he'd have the entire family at the house waiting for her to give her a piece of their minds.

I couldn't wait to see what would happen when she walked into the house. But to my absolute wonderment, the husband, other than being an angry wimp who threw her favorite glass ornament against the wall, did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

I thought that perhaps he was planning something good. Yes, that must be it. He was going to have the footballer kidnapped by his former Navy SEAL buddies who would have him casterated while his wife was sold to a Mexican Whorehouse. Yes, that must be it. I sat back in relief and kept on reading, waiting for the great revenge the husband was planning.

As I was getting near the end of the story, I was getting worried as no retribution was happening. Come on Navy SEALS! I'm waiting.

Then that god awful ending and the realization that the wife got away with it

I thought of the story like having great sex, but then just when you are getting it good the man stops, gets up, and goes home.

The story had no payback at all for the wife or the football guy. There was no orgasmic retribution to even out the score. No punishment. No revenge. Nothing.

That's why the story sucks and hit so many people the wrong way that they had to invent their own endings. I read a few but stopped as I realized that they mostly paled in comparison to the original. Only the original author could fix this and either rewrite it or give a sequel. He did neither, and as a result, he will forever be cursed as the great author who could have delivered one of the greatest LW stories ever told but instead gave us what he did and faded off into nothingness.
 
Last edited:
The problem with the February Sucks story is that it's very well written and easily elicits one's emotions and fears while reading it. It's very much like reading a horror story where a couple drive into a town where evil lurks just below the surface but they can't see it yet until it's too late. Of course such a story would be fiction, but if well written and paced correctly, it can bring up various emotions within you that at the end will have you quivering in your chair at the horror of it all.

That is the case with February Sucks in that you have a long term, happily married couple on a romantic weekend with their best friends. It's established they have no issues and are madly in love with each other. Then the "monster" in the form of the football player arrives and whisked the wife away for a night of blissful sex that she later describes as the best sex she's ever had in her entire life. It's a great story beginning and as I read it, I was wondering what the husband's reaction would be. Would divorce papers be waiting for her? Perhaps he would be gone with the kids, never to be seen again. Maybe he'd have the entire family at the house waiting for her to give her a piece of their minds. I couldn't wait to see what would happen when she walked into he house, and to my absolute wonderment, the husband, other than being angry, did not. Absolutely nothing.

I thought that perhaps he was planning something good. Yes, that must be it. He was going to have the footballer hurt so his career was ruined, and then destroy his wife legally.

As I was getting near the end of the story, I was getting worried as no retribution was happening.

Then that god awful ending and the realization that the wife got away with it

I thought of the story like having great sex, but then just when you are getting it good the man stops, gets up, and goes home.

The story had no payback at all for the wife or the football guy. There was no orgasmic retribution to even out the score. No punishment. No revenge. Nothing.

That's why the story sucks and hit so many people the wrong way that they had to invent their own endings. I read a few but stopped as I realized that they mostly paled in comparison to the original. Only the original author could fix this and either rewrite it or give a sequel. He did neither, and as a result,t he will forever be cursed as the great author who could have delivered one of the greatest LW stories ever told but instead gave us what he did and faded off into nothingness.

...that's a very elaborate way to say "It's rage bait".
 
I was out on a bike ride about a week ago—legs burning, brain coasting—when I had this sudden epiphany: what if I gave my version of FS a happy ending for Jim? It hit me hard, in that weird way creative clarity does when you're halfway through a climb. I ran the idea past someone at work—the same person who introduced me to this site, by the way (not sure if I should thank him or throttle him)—and to my surprise, he thought it could really work. The way Linda and Dee are dealt with? Believable. Earned, even. But it will require a new character, so I know not everyone’s going to love that.

I’m probably about a month or so out from actually sitting down and writing it. It'll also mean shifting to first-person POV, because this time, I want readers in Jim’s head—feeling every regret, every flicker of hope, every damn second he fights for something better.
 
Since realizing this, I think I've enjoy relationship dramas more than longer stroke stories. They're typically more interesting and well-written; can be exceptionally creative, engaging, dramatic, uplifting, romantic and moral; and it's soothing to escape the chaos of our modern news-day into a 'simple' story where bad people are served justice and innocent/wounded victims find a way forward.
And those stories are generally the ones that earn the better reception by the readers.
 
I thought that perhaps he was planning something good. Yes, that must be it. He was going to have the footballer hurt so his career was ruined, and then destroy his wife legally.

As I was getting near the end of the story, I was getting worried as no retribution was happening.

Then that god awful ending and the realization that the wife got away with it
Exactly my sentiments. It was an extremely well written first half, but the resolution sucked in most people's minds. The angst it aroused in the ready was great. There have been a few great resolutions but too many failures.

If you notice where most authors offering their sequel, it is at the point where the wife comes in and announces happily, "Honey, I'm home. Nothing has changed." But it has.
 
I was out on a bike ride about a week ago—legs burning, brain coasting—when I had this sudden epiphany: what if I gave my version of FS a happy ending for Jim? It hit me hard, in that weird way creative clarity does when you're halfway through a climb. I ran the idea past someone at work—the same person who introduced me to this site, by the way (not sure if I should thank him or throttle him)—and to my surprise, he thought it could really work. The way Linda and Dee are dealt with? Believable. Earned, even. But it will require a new character, so I know not everyone’s going to love that.

I’m probably about a month or so out from actually sitting down and writing it. It'll also mean shifting to first-person POV, because this time, I want readers in Jim’s head—feeling every regret, every flicker of hope, every damn second he fights for something better.
A believable story that stays relatively true to the original characters is what makes a winning sequel. Adding a new character would not be a major problem, but you can't add it as another person at the table. It would have to like somebody at an adjoining table who witnessed the events. Or somebody who learned of the event after the fact. In other words your sequel would need to start when Linda gets home or just before after the original transgression against Jim occurred.
 
A believable story that stays relatively true to the original characters is what makes a winning sequel. Adding a new character would not be a major problem, but you can't add it as another person at the table. It would have to like somebody at an adjoining table who witnessed the events. Or somebody who learned of the event after the fact. In other words your sequel would need to start when Linda gets home or just before after the original transgression against Jim occurred.
I’m going to let the writing stand on its own, but don’t worry—I’ve got a plan. I’m going to do a POV shift at the club. The dialogue between the characters there won’t change—what was said, was said—but the readers will finally get to read Jim’s internal thoughts. That’s where I’m going to take some literary liberties: pulling back the curtain so the audience can see the first storm clouds forming in his mind, the very beginning of his emotional spiral.

The first real divergence will come from a choice he makes before Linda even gets home—a subtle but important shift, setting the course for everything that follows. And that’s where the new character comes in: Jim’s direct supervisor. They are going to play a pivotal role, but readers won’t actually meet them until Jim’s next workday. Because let’s be honest—grief and getting drunk might fill the hours, but they don’t pay the bills. Jim’s still got to get up, punch the clock, and keep moving... at least for a little while longer.
 
Last edited:
I’m going to let the writing stand on its own, but don’t worry—I’ve got a plan. I’m going to do a POV shift at the club. The dialogue between the characters there won’t change—what was said, was said—but the readers will finally get to read Jim’s internal thoughts. That’s where I’m going to take some literary liberties: pulling back the curtain so the audience can see the first storm clouds forming in his mind, the very beginning of his emotional spiral.

The first real divergence will come from a choice he makes before Linda even gets home—a subtle but important shift, setting the course for everything that follows. And that’s where the new character comes in: Jim’s direct supervisor. They are going to play a pivotal role, but readers won’t actually meet them until Jim’s next workday. Because let’s be honest—grief and getting drunk might fill the hours, but they don’t pay the bills. Jim’s still got to get up, punch the clock, and keep moving... at least for a little while longer.
I agree. Plus the timeframe. This was a Friday night out I believe. Linda comes home Sat around noon. He has lots of time to let it all ruminate. I always preferred first person narratives to third. Emotions are described better. Put yourself into the character's position. I'll be looking forward to see how you handle it.
 
My writing time is limited, but one of the few bucket list items I have left here is a version of this and only because of how sad I think this whole phenomenon is. Except the wife gets away with even more.

The tears of insecure men go great with some Jack or Johnny Walker.
 
George Anderson wrote "February Sucks," the most copied, extended, twisted, manipulated, rewritten story anyone here has ever run across. I believe there may be over 200 takes on the story.
More than Mom on Son's lap in the backseat while totally unaware Dad drives?
 
The tears of insecure men go great with some Jack or Johnny Walker.
That is your takeaway from this story? Jim is insecure? His wife to whom he has been devoted and to his reckoning she to him, suddenly goes off for a night of fun and excitement with a decided 'FUCK YOU! I'll be back later."
An insecure man might beg his wife to do what she wants as long as she comes back to feed him scraps on occasion.
Kick me in the teeth? No problem, dear, I'll just use the blender to homogenize it into slop I can suck down.
 
I was out on a bike ride about a week ago—legs burning, brain coasting—when I had this sudden epiphany: what if I gave my version of FS a happy ending for Jim? It hit me hard, in that weird way creative clarity does when you're halfway through a climb. I ran the idea past someone at work—the same person who introduced me to this site, by the way (not sure if I should thank him or throttle him)—and to my surprise, he thought it could really work. The way Linda and Dee are dealt with? Believable. Earned, even. But it will require a new character, so I know not everyone’s going to love that.

I’m probably about a month or so out from actually sitting down and writing it. It'll also mean shifting to first-person POV, because this time, I want readers in Jim’s head—feeling every regret, every flicker of hope, every damn second he fights for something better.
As long as it involves Navy SEALS and Mexican whorehouses I'm all for it.
 
LW does seem to bring out the bitterest in people, as a genre. You get stories that are like "my wife smiled at another man, so I had him killed, and after the divorce her family and friends all disowned her for being a whore," or stories that go "my wife told me she was going to lock me up in chastity and take a different lover every night. I wanted to leave her, but man hating divorce laws say I'd have to pay her alimony." I like a good revenge story, and there are definitely some creative and satisfying ones, but what makes the original FS work for me is that the two main characters, especially Jim, feel like real people in the real world, which a lot of its imitators miss.
 
Last edited:
In the trash file hopefully.
Originally, I was going to have Jim stumble across some posted ideas involving Navy SEALs and a Mexican whorehouse, which he immediately dismisses as a fever dream someone cooked up after too much tequila. Jim’s world is grounded in reality, the characters act like actual adults, not cartoon cutouts, and I approach every scene with a simple rule: what could a guy realistically pull off without ending up featured on some YouTube body cam compilation titled Top 10 Dumbest Arrests?
 
When I handed my wife the original George Anderson version of “FS,” her reaction wasn’t subtle. “Did Linda fall out of the stupid tree and land in a dumpster fire?” she asked, genuinely baffled by the character’s decisions. Keep in mind, my wife is Irish, from New York City, and raised on a steady diet of sarcasm and Dateline reruns — so when she says something, she means it. She didn’t waste time imagining what she’d do in Jim’s shoes either. According to her, Linda wouldn’t get a redemption arc; she’d get a cautionary tale, complete with Keith Morrison ominously narrating, “She thought she could outsmart everyone… but someone else had already drawn the line.” Safe to say, Linda better be thankful other writers showed mercy. Because in my wife’s version? Linda's story ends with a garden spade, a tarp, and a chilling voiceover about “what really happened... that cold night in February.” Yeah, sleep with one eye open, fictional Linda.

Honestly, I’m just glad I’m the one doing the writing; it’s the only reason Linda’s still breathing by the end.
 
When I handed my wife the original George Anderson version of “FS,” her reaction wasn’t subtle. “Did Linda fall out of the stupid tree and land in a dumpster fire?” she asked, genuinely baffled by the character’s decisions. Keep in mind, my wife is Irish, from New York City, and raised on a steady diet of sarcasm and Dateline reruns — so when she says something, she means it. She didn’t waste time imagining what she’d do in Jim’s shoes either. According to her, Linda wouldn’t get a redemption arc; she’d get a cautionary tale, complete with Keith Morrison ominously narrating, “She thought she could outsmart everyone… but someone else had already drawn the line.” Safe to say, Linda better be thankful other writers showed mercy. Because in my wife’s version? Linda's story ends with a garden spade, a tarp, and a chilling voiceover about “what really happened... that cold night in February.” Yeah, sleep with one eye open, fictional Linda.

Honestly, I’m just glad I’m the one doing the writing; it’s the only reason Linda’s still breathing by the end.
I tend to agree with your wife. It is why so many people reacted to GW's story. The angst from Linda's behavior was so extreme, most readers would feel a spike in BP. That is what made redemption so unacceptable. Just because Jim loved her? wanted to be a fulltime father for his kids? NOt sure that would have been enough. A shovel would be serious consideration. And March would not escape either. He is doing it to humiliate husbands. No forgiveness.
 
I wrote this to start my version, so I hope it's as emotionally charged for the readers as it sounded in my head.

“Jim? Jim, I’m home.”

That voice. Soft. Familiar. Lethal.

I didn’t move. Not at the sound of her voice. Not when the hallway light spilled across the floor, brushing against my feet. I was sitting in the living room, in the dark, exactly where I had been since I walked out of that goddamn club.

My hands rested on my knees, clenched so tight the tendons in my forearms ached. My jaw hurt. I hadn’t realized I’d been grinding my teeth until the pressure made my temples throb.

And then I saw her.

And I nearly vomited.

The dress.

The same blue dress. Still clinging to her like it hadn’t just been peeled off by another man’s hands. Still holding her like it hadn’t become the flag planted on the grave of my marriage.
 
Back
Top