TheRedLantern
First Person Nerd
- Joined
- May 10, 2025
- Posts
- 26
I wanted to try getting some feedback on whether this opening "works". I'm less interested in a line-level review at this point (although if you see something clunky it's never too early to catch that, but this is less than 5% of the total manuscript so there's a good chance I'll throw the whole opening out if it doesn't work) and more interested in a holistic developmental review. This is a followup to an earlier piece, but I don't expect that readers will necessarily have read it, so the only context a reader is guaranteed to have is that this will get posted to the Interracial Love category.
I'm interested in the reactions. Since this is the opening, its goals are to introduce the POV character, introduce the conflict that the story promises to resolve, and to get the reader invested.
The way I've seen this done in the past is that the author isn't allowed to respond, so I'll try not to say anything other than "Thank you, Sir, may I have another." The goal isn't to defend my work, it's to test whether it's strong enough to hold up without needed to be defended. In this thread, no criticism is too harsh. I'd 1000% rather hear something terrible here than inflict a bad idea on the readers of Literotica who have lots of other options for how they spend their time.
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“My name is Hyunna, and I have snow fever.”
Eleven faces look back, nodding sympathetically. In jumbled unison they welcome me into their group. Eleven Asian women with the same problem. The same feral tiger lurks in all of us, and the promise of the night is that, with each other’s support, we can learn to live with it one day at a time.
We sit in folding metal chairs. Brightly colored cartoon characters frolic through a grubby green and brown forest, their glee frozen in paint on the hard stone walls. It’s winter, and the heat is way too high.
Something inside me broke a week ago when I realized we were going to Nationals.
Last Saturday, we brought home Iguthu Lake University’s first Appalachian Blowjob League championship. No one expected us to win, though. I thought it would be my last time, and telling myself that was how I pushed through the exhaustion of a tough season.
I skipped practice this whole week, saying I had a sore throat.
Today I told my coach I quit.
Thinking about it makes the air thick and heavy. Suddenly my skin doesn’t feel big enough to keep everything in. The room backs away from me. My heart beats against my ribs. My neck and palms itch. It’s fear, but of what?
At the same time I still feel the hungry growl in my soul … my tiger. My snow fever.
“It’s okay to share with the group, Hyunna,” the oldest woman says. A few creases near her eyelids are the only physical signs of her age, but the calm understanding etched on her face says that I’m not alone. “Tell us how you’re feeling.”
I'm interested in the reactions. Since this is the opening, its goals are to introduce the POV character, introduce the conflict that the story promises to resolve, and to get the reader invested.
The way I've seen this done in the past is that the author isn't allowed to respond, so I'll try not to say anything other than "Thank you, Sir, may I have another." The goal isn't to defend my work, it's to test whether it's strong enough to hold up without needed to be defended. In this thread, no criticism is too harsh. I'd 1000% rather hear something terrible here than inflict a bad idea on the readers of Literotica who have lots of other options for how they spend their time.
=====
“My name is Hyunna, and I have snow fever.”
Eleven faces look back, nodding sympathetically. In jumbled unison they welcome me into their group. Eleven Asian women with the same problem. The same feral tiger lurks in all of us, and the promise of the night is that, with each other’s support, we can learn to live with it one day at a time.
We sit in folding metal chairs. Brightly colored cartoon characters frolic through a grubby green and brown forest, their glee frozen in paint on the hard stone walls. It’s winter, and the heat is way too high.
Something inside me broke a week ago when I realized we were going to Nationals.
Last Saturday, we brought home Iguthu Lake University’s first Appalachian Blowjob League championship. No one expected us to win, though. I thought it would be my last time, and telling myself that was how I pushed through the exhaustion of a tough season.
I skipped practice this whole week, saying I had a sore throat.
Today I told my coach I quit.
Thinking about it makes the air thick and heavy. Suddenly my skin doesn’t feel big enough to keep everything in. The room backs away from me. My heart beats against my ribs. My neck and palms itch. It’s fear, but of what?
At the same time I still feel the hungry growl in my soul … my tiger. My snow fever.
“It’s okay to share with the group, Hyunna,” the oldest woman says. A few creases near her eyelids are the only physical signs of her age, but the calm understanding etched on her face says that I’m not alone. “Tell us how you’re feeling.”
