February Sucks in LW

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 like your wife's views. Honesty, the story describes a near impossibility. Yes, I'm in an open marriage but even I wouldn't do such a thing if I was out with my husband on a romantic date. I might dance with a famous celebrity, but no matter how handsome and persuasive he might be, I'd have to decline. In my open marriage we have very specific rules to live by, and suddenly going off with a man like Linda did in the story wouldn't happen at the spur of the moment. Now sure, if the celebrity wants to become our friend and we later have a connection, and with my husband's permission, I could be persuaded to bed him. But not in the circumstances outlined in the story.
 
I like your wife's views. Honesty, the story describes a near impossibility. Yes, I'm in an open marriage but even I wouldn't do such a thing if I was out with my husband on a romantic date. I might dance with a famous celebrity, but no matter how handsome and persuasive he might be, I'd have to decline. In my open marriage we have very specific rules to live by, and suddenly going off with a man like Linda did in the story wouldn't happen at the spur of the moment. Now sure, if the celebrity wants to become our friend and we later have a connection, and with my husband's permission, I could be persuaded to bed him. But not in the circumstances outlined in the story.
My wife’s been putting up with women coming on to me for years — and yeah, maybe I’ve got some kind of default setting stuck between “accidental flirt” and “charm you didn’t ask for.” Doesn’t matter. She knows there’s no world where I’d ever cross that line — and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, she wouldn’t either. But if she ever did, and I was standing right there watching it happen? Jim’s limp, hollow reaction in FS would look like a bad joke compared to mine. There wouldn’t be polite conversations or sad looks — there’d be a crater where the moment used to be. And maybe that’s why FS cuts so deep: because Jim didn’t react the way my gut screams you’re supposed to. That’s why, in this rewrite, I want to change the aftermath — show Jim finally waking the hell up and refusing to let betrayal walk away without consequences.

I’ll be blunt — I can’t stand how Ellen’s character was used, so she’s getting cut. Full stop. And L.W.? In the original, he’s basically a walking malpractice case masquerading as a “family friend.” Hiring escorts to bait the couple? Brilliant legal strategy — if you’re actively trying to lose in spectacular fashion. In my version, L.W. is getting a full rebuild into someone competent — someone Jim actually hires to fight for him, or who at least recommends someone who will. No more half-baked advice, no more treating Jim like collateral damage. If Jim’s going to claw his way back, he needs people who know which end of the courtroom to stand on — not another clown at the circus.
 
Maybe have L.W. offer some half-baked advice and have Jim fire him for recommending a path toward reconciliation. "What would my Grandfather have done had you given him that advice?"
 
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.
Great image. But the lighting. Are you going to have her come home the next evening so it is darker outside? Or have all the lights in the house off? In the original she comes home around noon or so if I recollect. (Just being picky here to make your story better)
 
Great image. But the lighting. Are you going to have her come home the next evening so it is darker outside? Or have all the lights in the house off? In the original she comes home around noon or so if I recollect. (Just being picky here to make your story better)
You’re absolutely right, and I appreciate you pointing it out. I’m going to make that change so I can give Jim a little more time to deal with the direct aftermath before the next emotional beat hits. I’m aiming for something that feels almost isolated and claustrophobic — like the walls are closing in a bit. I want to temper him in the fire before the shift comes, really let that pressure build so when it does break, it feels earned.

Fair warning, you and Oatmeal keep this up, and I'll credit both of you. ;)
 
You’re absolutely right, and I appreciate you pointing it out. I’m going to make that change so I can give Jim a little more time to deal with the direct aftermath before the next emotional beat hits. I’m aiming for something that feels almost isolated and claustrophobic — like the walls are closing in a bit. I want to temper him in the fire before the shift comes, really let that pressure build so when it does break, it feels earned.

Fair warning, you and Oatmeal keep this up, and I'll credit both of you. ;)
I'm great at throwing out small story ideas. The story comments I leave are littered with fantasies of what happens next. I'm not so good at big ideas or writing a complete story. :) Maybe some day I'll write a story when I have a stupid amount of time to devote to self-guessing and thesaurus lookups. I imagine writing, for me, would be a form of self-flagellation.
 
I'm great at throwing out small story ideas. The story comments I leave are littered with fantasies of what happens next. I'm not so good at big ideas or writing a complete story. :) Maybe some day I'll write a story when I have a stupid amount of time to devote to self-guessing and thesaurus lookups. I imagine writing, for me, would be a form of self-flagellation.
I always try to give credit where credit’s due. Even the smallest nudge or bit of feedback can tighten a scene or shift a moment in a way that makes the whole story hit harder. Sometimes, it’s not the big rewrites but the subtle suggestions that leave the biggest impact.
 
I’ll be blunt — I can’t stand how Ellen’s character was used, so she’s getting cut. Full stop. And L.W.? In the original, he’s basically a walking malpractice case masquerading as a “family friend.” Hiring escorts to bait the couple? Brilliant legal strategy — if you’re actively trying to lose in spectacular fashion. In my version, L.W. is getting a full rebuild into someone competent — someone Jim actually hires to fight for him, or who at least recommends someone who will. No more half-baked advice, no more treating Jim like collateral damage. If Jim’s going to claw his way back, he needs people who know which end of the courtroom to stand on — not another clown at the circus.
I can'twait to read your rewrite.
 
After more rewrites than I care to count, I finally finished it. I’m calling it The Ides of March. It veered wildly from the original plan but somehow landed in a place that feels right to me. Hopefully, readers agree. My wife, however, is still not a fan of February Sucks and has officially declared it a ridiculous premise. She refuses to edit it. That said, she does like my approach of pulling away from Jim’s point of view and shifting to a different character, so I’ll take the win where I can.
 
My regards to your wife. She's right, of course, and you can quote me on that (what? quote a statement by a nym? Well, I stand by it). Post it. I promise I will read it.
 
My regards to your wife. She's right, of course, and you can quote me on that (what? quote a statement by a nym? Well, I stand by it). Post it. I promise I will read it.
I’ll definitely pass that along. She’ll be smug for days now, thanks to you. And yes, I am quoting a nym. If it’s on the internet and it backs up her point, it’s legally binding in this household.
 
I had a second reader on Literotica go through it with fresh eyes without mentioning it was a February Sucks story, and the feedback was surprisingly positive. That gave me the confidence I needed to keep moving forward with it. So now I’m focusing on polishing up the rough edges, cleaning up the flow, clarifying a few lines, and if all goes well, I plan to publish it next week.
 
I had a second reader on Literotica go through it with fresh eyes without mentioning it was a February Sucks story, and the feedback was surprisingly positive. That gave me the confidence I needed to keep moving forward with it. So now I’m focusing on polishing up the rough edges, cleaning up the flow, clarifying a few lines, and if all goes well, I plan to publish it next week.
I wonder how much George likes all the FSs (hell, he should get a Nobel, for contributions to literature). I know him somewhat -- he did a great job as editor/beta reader for one of my stories (Battery), but I've never asked him. I've also never asked if the prologue, where a full group of married, professional women ostensibly would gladly pull a "Linda," actually occurred.
 
I wonder how much George likes all the FSs (hell, he should get a Nobel, for contributions to literature). I know him somewhat -- he did a great job as editor/beta reader for one of my stories (Battery), but I've never asked him. I've also never asked if the prologue, where a full group of married, professional women ostensibly would gladly pull a "Linda," actually occurred.
 
I wonder how much George likes all the FSs (hell, he should get a Nobel, for contributions to literature). I know him somewhat -- he did a great job as editor/beta reader for one of my stories (Battery), but I've never asked him. I've also never asked if the prologue, where a full group of married, professional women ostensibly would gladly pull a "Linda," actually occurred.
I’ve always wondered that too. Whether George sees the FS multiverse as flattering, horrifying, or just wildly surreal is anyone's guess. He definitely deserves some kind of literary medal for spawning a genre, intentional or not.

My issue with FS has always been how Linda feels less like a human and more like a robot, or maybe an alien trying to pretend to be one. Honestly, the way she acts after arriving at the club, I have to wonder… oh shit, was Linda abducted by aliens and replaced with a replica? That would explain a lot.
 
Apologies in advance for the lack of Navy SEALs and a Mexican whorehouse in this version. I know, I know, a real missed opportunity for literary greatness. But if these characters ever start whispering in my head again, I already have a plan. Poor Marc L. ends up tangled in an international drug smuggling ring and finds himself living in a Mexican whorehouse. As one does.

Also, I asked my wife to read it, and the answer was an emphatic "No." No hesitation. Just pure, immediate rejection. Honestly, I think she feared what kind of brain worms I might've caught while writing it
 
Was her 'no' about the brain worms/Navy Seals ideas, or was it about "The Ides of March" as you've posted it? Because you know damned well that it's a lovely story. Not to say that it's perfect (I'm here to praise Caesar, to to bury him), but it's a beautifully written romance with perhaps just a smidge too much coincidence in their meetings.

Maybe instead of your providing #1's ideas second hand, she could just speak for herself? (stupid patriarchy!). Merely a thought.
 
Was her 'no' about the brain worms/Navy Seals ideas, or was it about "The Ides of March" as you've posted it? Because you know damned well that it's a lovely story. Not to say that it's perfect (I'm here to praise Caesar, to to bury him), but it's a beautifully written romance with perhaps just a smidge too much coincidence in their meetings.

Maybe instead of your providing #1's ideas second hand, she could just speak for herself? (stupid patriarchy!). Merely a thought.
 
After more rewrites than I care to count, I finally finished it. I’m calling it The Ides of March. It veered wildly from the original plan but somehow landed in a place that feels right to me. Hopefully, readers agree. My wife, however, is still not a fan of February Sucks and has officially declared it a ridiculous premise. She refuses to edit it. That said, she does like my approach of pulling away from Jim’s point of view and shifting to a different character, so I’ll take the win where I can.
You wrote a great piece, sir. Your scoring reflected that. And you didn't have to dismember the cheating wife, (like so many authors here on the forum think you need to do to be successful in that category.)
 
It is totally plausible to me that a group would actually think along those lines for a bit. But then most would realize it would cost them. I doubt many men would accept it. The marriage would be damaged, even if they stayed together. Which is the basis for the story and the sequels. Anderson's ending was not really realistic in my opinion. There would always be that nagging doubt on both sides.
 
My issue with FS has always been how Linda feels less like a human and more like a robot, or maybe an alien trying to pretend to be one. Honestly, the way she acts after arriving at the club, I have to wonder… oh shit, was Linda abducted by aliens and replaced with a replica? That would explain a lot.
Telling a story in the first person, all you can really see is how a person acts. Inner turmoil of a second person.might not be revealed. That is why Linda always seemed flat. She walks into the house clueless of the destruction she wrought. "I'm back, same as I always was" is one of those stupid ideas but when you think about it, she had to have that attitude in order to do what she did. FS and the sequels was never about Linda. It was about how Jim responded to Linda's actions. Hence her being a robot, a piece of the furniture now.
 
Was her 'no' about the brain worms/Navy Seals ideas, or was it about "The Ides of March" as you've posted it? Because you know damned well that it's a lovely story. Not to say that it's perfect (I'm here to praise Caesar, to to bury him), but it's a beautifully written romance with perhaps just a smidge too much coincidence in their meetings.

Maybe instead of your providing #1's ideas second hand, she could just speak for herself? (stupid patriarchy!). Merely a thought.
"Root of evil bears bitter fruit" that's her take on February Sucks. And after 32 years of marriage and 28 years of working with her, I’ve learned not to test the structural integrity of her No’s.
 
Telling a story in the first person, all you can really see is how a person acts. Inner turmoil of a second person.might not be revealed. That is why Linda always seemed flat. She walks into the house clueless of the destruction she wrought. "I'm back, same as I always was" is one of those stupid ideas but when you think about it, she had to have that attitude in order to do what she did. FS and the sequels was never about Linda. It was about how Jim responded to Linda's actions. Hence her being a robot, a piece of the furniture now.
Exactly. Linda had to believe she was “the same as always” because the alternative was admitting she torched her marriage for one night of ego-stroking with a walking endorsement deal. That line “I’m back, same as I always was” isn't innocence. It’s self-preservation. If she acknowledged what she really did, she’d have to live with it. So instead, she rewrites the script and expects Jim to act like it’s the same play.

And yes, she feels flat because we only ever see her from the outside. That’s the cost of first-person. We don’t get her inner monologue. But maybe that’s the point. This was never her story. She’s not the protagonist. She’s the catalyst. The earthquake. You don’t interview the tornado. You survive it.
 
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