My second story: Conservative wife and the Priest

[fargas111]

Hi guys, i have already submitted two chapters from the story, and the third is on the way. If you like, read it and tell me what you think.

Thanks

The links:
Chapter 1: http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=502014
Chapter 2: http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=502097

 

[Metamorphose]

More SHOW less TELL

Pretty basic. Seek it out on various sites.
You use Narrative Summary to tell a hot tale. Like a reporter documenting some event. I dont open an erotic stories site in order to get lectured, I want action, involvment, scenes that unfold as I read about them.
Your formm of TELLING will not do in the age where people are used to seeing active scenes and get fast entertainment IV coming from the TV. Erotic tale should be seen, the reader should be taken into your world instead of getting a bland 2nd hand report.

Hope this helped

 

[baphemetis]

You need to submit this story to one of the volunteer editors.

There is a lot of awkwardness in this story that makes it difficult for the reader to immerse him/herself in the narrative.

The narrator is the son, looking back at the past, but he knows things he shouldn't know. How does he know all these intimate details and private conversations? Little explanations like, "Years later, I learned that..." or "It wasn't until I was much older that my father told me what actually happened..." would help a lot.

A lot of times, you tell people what is being said instead of just using dialogue. Dialogue helps break up a story and make it easier to read. It also helps flesh out characters. Don't tell us, show us.

Approach your writing as though you are painting a picture. You have build mood, atmosphere and background.

You have a lot of run-on sentences. Look at this passage:

When dad came back in the evening, the priest told him that mom wasn't able to help him today in some of the chores that will help him heal spiritually and fen off the devil telling him the reason is that she didn't want to be with him in the same room, omitting the fact that he wanted her to rub oil on his nude body.

Dad was furious, telling mom sternly that Father Tyrone is a man of God and we should do everything possible to help him or we will be damned by all the saints. Mom's eyes filled with tears as she was being scolded by dad for the faithfulness she thought she was preserving. She obediently nodded her head and promised she will do anything the lovely priest would ask her in order for him to get better and serve the community.


Now consider this re-write, note how I use dialogue to tell a story and how I set the mood:

The sun had already set by the time my father returned from the fields. He was visibly exhausted from a long day of hard work. His patience already worn thin, he wasn't in the mood for what the priest was about to tell him.

"How is our house guest?" My father asked, checking in on the bedridden priest.

"I'm afraid, I'm not doing so well today," Father Tyrone replied, feigning weakness in his voice. "It is taking all of my strength to fend off the evil spirits that plague me, the forces of Satan are strong."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Father," my father replied. "I feel so helpless, I wish there was something we could do."

Father Tyrone seized this opportunity. "There is, but I'm afraid your wife lacks the piety to follow through," he said.

"What?" Father asked incredulously. "What are you saying?"

My father had always taken great pride in his family's devotion to the Church. To him, hearing that his wife was lacking in spiritual devotion was like a dagger through his heart.

"I asked her for assistance earlier today, but I'm afraid her housework was more of a priority for her than a poor, sick priest," Father Tyrone said. He skipped the little detail about trying to get her to rub oil on his bare chest.

What happened next, I will never forget. My father's face turned red with anger. The veins in his neck began to pound visibly with each beat of heart. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.

I'm ashamed to say that I did what I always do when my father goes into one of his fits of rage. I hid in my room, ignoring the wails and cries of my poor, dear mother. She never disobeyed Father Tyrone again. Never.

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Keep working at it. It's not just erotic writing, it's writing in general. As your writing and storytelling skills improve, so will your erotica. Good luck!