Young Writers Society

“Such a crappy season,” Cormac sighs.
“What?”
“Autumn, man. It’s the crappiest season there is. What’s the point? I mean, summer’s hot and winter’s cold and spring’s all fluffy and nice, who the fuck needs autumn? I don’t need autumn. Do you need autumn?”
“I’d miss the… orange,” Eddy tells him. “The leaves and shit?”
“The orange? The orange,” he chuckles. Then screams: “Fuck the orange! Who the hell misses dead leaves, dude? Seriously.”
Naked in front of him, skin like a doctor’s gloves, looking like some sort of Snow Goddess, Shiva the Unmerciful, Odin’s wife, he hopes she could stay like that forever. She’s getting dressed now. The radio is still on. Edward just stares at her back. Is he supposed to do something? Is he supposed to say anything? Don’t go! Don’t leave! Fuck all that. Fuck all… that. She looks at him over her shoulder. He looks away.
One words springs to mind.
“Chickenshit,” Eddy mumbles after almost one minute of silence.
“What was that…? Whose a chickenshit?”
“I am. I’m a fucking chickenshit. I’m… I mean, I had something good, didn’t I? And I just… I didn’t do anything. I don’t…” He stops talking. Cormac takes a sip from the bottle and hands it over to him. Eddy takes a long gulp, and then whispers the word like it was vomit: “Chickenshit.”
“You gotta stop doing this to yourself, man. It’s unhealthy. Pussy is like… a really expensive chocolate, alright? And you eat it, and you like it, and when it’s done you’re sad it’s gone. And maybe it takes you a while to get the money to buy another chocolate, right? But you finally do. And it’s the same thing. Get it?”
“What—?” Eddy laughs, shaking his head. “What does that even mean? What…? That’s the worst fucking… analogy ever.”
“I know what I’m talking about, Ed. Like, have you ever seen me without a bird? All these years you know me, have I ever been without a woman?”
Cormac looks at her like she’s holding his mother hostage, like she’s just clubbed fifty baby seals to death. You’re killing me, he tells her.
“You just broke up with Carole yesterday. You’re without a woman now.”
“Exactly,” Cormac says, taking the bottle back and wiping the mouth with his sleeve. Then: “And do I look like I give a shit?”
She shakes her head and groans. You’re always so melodramatic, she says. I’m leaving, Cormac. We’re done. I mean, we’re just… Are you really getting anything out of this? We’re done. She’s saying these things like it’s public knowledge, the most obvious stuff in the world. Cormac does not compute. He’s grinding his teeth as hard as he can, he’s trying not to cry. Can’t you get that?, she asks again.
Cormac answers almost immediately, doesn’t even think about it.
“No,” Eddy tells him half-heartedly.
“Right. And I don’t. I don’t give one solitary shit, man.”
“So what happened, then? I thought you two were doing fine?”
“Nah,” Cormac croaks after a while. “That relationship was done for since fucking… forever. Girl was in denial, that’s all, so I did what was best for her. You know what they say, man.”
“What? What do they say, Cormac?”
“If it ain’t moving forward, then it’s moving towards the fiery depths of hell. But… What about you? What happened to you and…?”
Loretta glares at him but Eddy doesn’t say anything, he just lays there on the bed.
“Loretta.”
“Loretta? What, was she like a fifties blues singer or something? Was she an eighty year old black woman—? What sort of name is Loretta for a young girl?”
“It’s just a name,” Eddy mumbles. Adds: “Besides, your name is Cormac, Cormac. You shouldn’t make fun of anybody’s name.”
“Cormac like fucking Cormac McCarthy. And— Cormac like my grandfather who died in a world war, motherfucker—! Hey. You know what?”
You’re an asshole. Edward shrugs and tries to listen to the radio instead of her. Are you oh darling even listening to tell me what me?, she asks and for the first time in twenty minutes, he manages to look at her in the eyes. Yes, Eddy moans. I’m listening to you, I’m hearing what you’re saying. The radio keeps playing, muffling her words: So it’s just I knew you’d like that, huh? We’re tell me they were over and you don’t care. Not even an wrong apology? Edward shrugs again. You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?, she yells before walking towards the door. He's thinking of something to say. Well, that's not true. He knows exactly what he should say, just two little words.
“I’m sorry,” Eddy laughs. He watches Cormac drink from the bottle. “Alright, man? I’m really, really sorry.”
But he just mutters: I know.
“Fuck you, man. You know how I get about my name. It’s a good name.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s a great name,” he says. And then, mocking: “Fantastic name. The best name ever.”
“Just… shut up. So, OK, yeah, what about you and Loretta then? What happened? You told her about Mandy?”
“Yeah, I told her about Mandy. And then… I don’t know. I didn’t even apologize about it, you know? I just… did this badass routine. Said nothing… Leave if you want, I don’t care, that type of thing. I was just too… scared to argue with her. To try to convince her into staying. Never been more scared in my life.”
“You know what you sound like?”
“What?”
“A fucking pussy, man.”
Cormac is standing in font of the door, blocking her way, a child talking to his divorcing parents, a dog weeping about his owners leaving on vacation. Come on come on come on, just talk to me, Carole, he says. She just sighs again and tells him, deadpan: You’re being childish. Cormac knows she’s right, but still: You’re being childish! That doesn’t help.
“What is your problem?”
“I’m the voice of reason, Eddy. The only person that will tell you the way things really are. I mean, what? If she’d forgiven you about Mandy, then you’d still be with her. Right. And then what? You’d marry? Fuck that. Marriage is a sorry institution anyways, man. The government wants you to marry. Keeps men whipped, controlled. Keeps women as a minor workforce. Maintains the status quo.”
Look, Cormac, just… Good-bye, alright? I’m sorry. Really, I am. And then she’s gone. He stays in the hotel room he’d rented that night, alone and weeping.
“Are you drunk already?”
“Yeah, but that has nothing to do with nothing.”
Rot in hell, Eddy. I mean that. And then she’s gone. He phones his friend a while later and, swear to God, Cormac sounds like he’s been crying.
“Right. Gimmie the bottle, I wanna catch up.”
“Here you go.”
No. What? I’m not crying, he squeals as soon as he picks up the phone. Cormac sneezes. I’m just a little bit sick, that’s all. What? No, yeah. I could use a drink.
“We don’t need women, man,” Cormac concludes. Edward grunts, trying not spit out the drink. “Right, man? Women need us, is more like it.”
Great, Eddy says before hanging up.
“Yeah. You’re probably right. We don’t need anybody.”
“See? I’m always right. Cormac is always fucking right.”
When they meet up in the liquor store an hour later, Cormac forces Edward into buying whiskey instead of the vodka. Then they walk to the park and start drinking, surrounded by leafless trees, feeling the cool autumn wind on their faces. It’s already getting dark and Cormac, as it usually happens with these conversations, talks first.

Man!

I'm not a big fan of people bumping their own stories for reviews. If people want to review they will, if they don't they won't. It comes off as kinda whiny and self-indulgent, ya dig? But I suppose it brought this story to my attention so whatever works...

I've read at least one of your works before and you've got a very distinct style. I like it, it's gritty. I can't decide whether I like the title because of its simplicity and truthiness or dislike it because of its lack of flair and creativity. Eh, it reflects the attitudes of your characters well, so for that, I suppose it's a good fit.

Your dialougue is just fantastic. It reminds me a lot of Tarantino, what with the rapid, dueling, chatter, the non-sequitars, the swearing, the old school slang and references. And I absolutely love the scripts of Pulp Fiction, Resevoir dogs, etc. so major props!

I had to read through this twice to really pick up what you did with the stories frame. I think you need to make the flashback italicized or something or it's tricky to pick up on and holds the possibility of confusing, and thus turning off, some readers. That said, when I caught it, how the story kind of loops and reboots from the beginning to the end like it does (at least if I read it right) it blew me away. It just adds a whole new level to the characters and the conversation, to the point where when I read it the third time, I liked it even more. You just nailed it, what a way to tell a scene! Not everyone is going to take the time to break it down though, so don't get rid of it, but just accept that. Again though maybe find a way to distinguish between the two times a little bit more clearly, it shouldn't hurt the message or the style of the piece but it should help it's readability.

Big ups, you turned a conflict that is common and routine in writing and took it on a wild ride. Very nice job!

Thanks!

(that's another bump)

Pattycakes is right, you need to italicize the flashbacks. I was unsure for half of the story if Cormac was a guy or a girl.

As for the story, it was interesting and easy for me to relate to. 'Course I've left alcohol behind in favor of...other things, but we won't get into specifics.

The dialogue was realistic, which is a big plus in stories with as much of it as this one. I'm already speculating what will happen next...can't wait to find out.

Alright Icaruss, I'm here to help, since your review deprived. Haha. Okay. So at first the dialog kind of confused me. I couldnt really make out who was speaking. Easy fix, just add a few tags on things you didn't already. Also...Edward? I think has three different names, that might be why I was confused as well. Just give him one name.

“Autumn, man. It’s the crappiest season there is.

I completely dissagree with Edward here...hellooo Halloween! best time if the year! haha
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naked in front of him, skin like a doctor’s gloves, looking like some sort of Snow Goddess, Shiva the Unmerciful, Odin’s wife, he hopes she could stay like that forever.

Good descriptions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s the worst fucking… analogy ever

Indeed. *Laughs* ahem, It was good, but not something you hear every day
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Like, have you ever seen me without a bird? All these years you know me, have I ever been without a woman?”

Uhh. bird? Wait, shes bie? is this pg? Wait now, whoes saying this? oh im so confused!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Exactly,” Cormac says, taking the bottle back and wiping the mouth with his sleeve. Then: “And do I look like I give a shit?”

Okay, I think this is getting less confusing. So before that was Edward? Sorry bout that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She shakes her head and groans. You’re always so melodramatic, she says. I’m leaving, Cormac. We’re done. I mean, we’re just… Are you really getting anything out of this? We’re done. She’s saying these things like it’s public knowledge, the most obvious stuff in the world.

Your missing some quotes here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loretta glares at him but Eddy doesn’t say anything, he just lays there on the bed.
“Loretta.”

I think you messed up the name there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re an asshole. Edward shrugs and tries to listen to the radio instead of her. Are you oh darling even listening to tell me what me?, she asks and for the first time in twenty minutes, he manages to look at her in the eyes. Yes, Eddy moans. I’m listening to you, I’m hearing what you’re saying. The radio keeps playing, muffling her words: So it’s just I knew you’d like that, huh? We’re tell me they were over and you don’t care. Not even an wrong apology? Edward shrugs again. You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?, she yells before walking towards the door. He's thinking of something to say. Well, that's not true. He knows exactly what he should say, just two little words.

this is clever, but still. sort of confusing. Maybe I'm just slow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To try to convince her into staying. Never been more scared in my life.”

This is good, I like this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think you should reread this and see where you missed the quotes and confused the speakers. read it out loud if you have to. Work on that a little.
Other than that, good job.

Well, I'm here as promised. Sorry it took me so long to get around to reviewing this, I've been busy. But I'm here now, and I'll do my best to make up for it.

To be honest, I didn't get it. I've read other pieces by you, and I never seem to be able to understand your writing. Maybe it's just e, or maybe it's the way you write. Because of that, this review probably won't be very helpful.

First of all, I don't like this in present tense. I think it would be better off in past tense, but the whole thing just seemed really forced to me, and I thin that may have to do with your tense. Try it in past, and see what happens.

I was never sure of who was talking. And you seemed to add and take away characters very quickly. Like, there seemed to be some girl in the room, but only one of the guys could see her. Was this a flashback? If so, put it in italics. You should also add some dialogue tags to the conversation, so we're not as confused.

So yeah, overall, I think you need to make it a bit clearer, because I really just didn't understand it

Good luck!

Thanks a bunch. But I won't be putting the flashbacks in itallics.

*Is lame and too tired to do a real critique, and doesn't know what to say anyways, but has one comment*

Just separate it, then, since you hate italics. I had no clue there were flashbacks. Just do this:

-----

For them, or something. Just so we have some clue.

'course, I'm also exhausted, but that's my two cents. xD

~JFW1415

But... But... The whole point... With the... And... Mario Vargas Llosa... Sigh.

Did you like it, at least?

Haha, guess I can't get away with not giving you a critique? xD

Of course I liked it - I always LOVE your work.

But I hardly even remember what this was about and such. So add the line breaks, so it'll be easier for me to understand when I reread it (or don't, but I may be confused when I shouldn't be) and just send me PMs reminding me to read this. I'm moving right now, so it'll be a few days, but I'll give you a real critique. xD

I don't think I'll be reading your stuff while I'm tired again. xD

~JFW1415

Howdy, Icaruss. You know how much I like your work so I couldn't resist when I saw this post.

You’re an asshole. Edward shrugs and tries to listen to the radio instead of her. Are you oh darling even listening to tell me what me?, she asks and for the first time in twenty minutes, he manages to look at her in the eyes. Yes, Eddy moans. I’m listening to you, I’m hearing what you’re saying. The radio keeps playing, muffling her words: So it’s just I knew you’d like that, huh? We’re tell me they were over and you don’t care. Not even an wrong apology? Edward shrugs again. You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?, she yells before walking towards the door. He's thinking of something to say. Well, that's not true. He knows exactly what he should say, just two little words.

Okay, this is a really difficult paragraph to understand. Some of your words are....confusing...? I would just read through this and try to make sense of it, make it clearer for the reader.

Wow, this was amazing, Icaruss! Please please please don't put italics in here. This story was beautiful without them. The reader can easily tell what is going on without the italics. If you are really reading this, you would notice what it going on without breaklines and italics. So don't do that. It'll ruin the flow.

I just loved how you connected the whole conversation with flashbacks. You used such a tense conversation and made it personal. You connected with the reader and made them feel for your two MC.

I'm sorry, I'm not much help with just giving you praise but I just love your work. You could seriously make a whole book out of your short stories. No lie.

Keep on writing, Icaruss!

Hullo there Icaruss. ^^

Your work tends to intrigue me, so I’m actually quite glad you’ve forced me to critique sommat.

Don’t put those flashbacks in italics. While I know you’ve said you won’t repeatedly, I still want to put forth my opinion that you should leave them as is. This isn’t a conventional tale, of course it isn’t, not with your deliciously complex take on form. Your integration of the flashbacks into the narrative of the story itself is both intriguing and contemporary. I approve of it, your work gains a level of reality that I have to say I love at this moment. There have been writers in history, literary writers, who believed in creating writing that fully replicated reality, of striving toward that one goal – making fiction into a full representation of reality. You do something of that kind here, allowing the natural nature of memory and telling to come through.

And now that my little rant is up. Let’s have a look at this work of yours properly, ne?

Wait! I just read Jelly’s comment. xD Don’t separate them either, it’ll ruin everything that I see in the text. I’m terribly opinionated, ne? Because I’m going to contradict myself soon, I’m sure.

Actually, I’ll contradict myself right now. The flashbacks are a confusion of elements. This isn’t good, at all. It took a moment for me to realise that there were flashbacks, and that I was reading them, although your use of names helped a lot, that was well done. Yet, there is the initial vagueness that hits one when reading those sections. I’m not sure, though, how I would ask you to alter this. I know what I want is clarity... but that clarity would do something to the narrative itself that I don’t think I’d like. It’s rather troublesome, considering the support I’ve weighed for your choice in these flashbacks, to find that I’m not entirely certain of what to do with them. I’d suggest leaving them completely as is. The rest of your tale you will be able to alter much more comprehensively.

On the matter of the rest of the tale: Firstly, I like it basically. I’ll not say completely, as there are some incongruent feelings of dislike I’m getting, but generally, I like it.

I love your characters, the almost soft nature of them both, they’re pliable characters, easily moulded into those people you needed in the situation. This is both a draw back and excellent. It’s excellent because it’s such a lovely feeling, to read these characters, because they’re so easy and smooth. A drawback, however, because they lack definition and I find myself wondering which is which, regardless of your use of names. Of course this adds to the overall confusion of flashback/non. I think what I’m up for suggesting is that what you do is differentiate between your characters more comfortably. Give one each one of them something particular about themselves that your readers can easily remember them by. Perhaps Cormac is sitting diagonally – it won’t matter if he moves after, because we’ll remember him as the one who was sitting in such a way, and we shall know who he is when he is mentioned, you know? This problem clears up later on... but think on this, anyway.

Other than that... I’m not going to complain. It’s kind of brilliant, actually, I’ve just decided. I more than like it, I really like it. (Zomg, I’ma even star you.)

The mix of flashback and real time is actually really well used, and if you read the story more than once – I believe all good texts should be read more than once – it’s very clear what’s what and you know what’s going on. Your characters are well developed, and they’re very realistic, a feat in fiction. I thoroughly enjoyed that.

Don’t change the flashbacks.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

Icaruss wrote: Comments in red
“Such a crappy season,” Cormac sighs.
“What?”
“Autumn, man. It’s the crappiest season there is. What’s the point? I mean, summer’s hot and winter’s cold and spring’s all fluffy and nice, who the fuck needs autumn? I don’t need autumn. Do you need autumn?”
“I’d miss the… orange,” Eddy tells him. “The leaves and shit?”
“The orange? The orange,” he chuckles. Then screams: “Fuck the orange! Who the hell misses dead leaves, dude? Seriously.”
Naked in front of him, skin like a doctor’s gloves, looking like some sort of Snow Goddess, Shiva the Unmerciful, Odin’s wife, he hopes she could stay like that forever. She’s getting dressed now. The radio is still on. Edward just stares at her back. Is he supposed to do something? Is he supposed to say anything? Don’t go! Don’t leave! Fuck all that. Fuck all… that. She looks at him over her shoulder. He looks away. Okay, I had to read this a few times to get what's going on here, and I'm still not sure I entirely get it.
One words springs to mind.
“Chickenshit,” Eddy mumbles after almost one minute of silence.
“What was that…? Whose a chickenshit?”
“I am. I’m a fucking chickenshit. I’m… I mean, I had something good, didn’t I? And I just… I didn’t do anything. I don’t…” He stops talking. Cormac takes a sip from the bottle and hands it over to him. Eddy takes a long gulp, and then whispers the word like it was vomit: “Chickenshit.”
“You gotta stop doing this to yourself, man. It’s unhealthy. Pussy is like… a really expensive chocolate, alright? And you eat it, and you like it, and when it’s done you’re sad it’s gone. And maybe it takes you a while to get the money to buy another chocolate, right? But you finally do. And it’s the same thing. Get it?” Okay...
“What—?” Eddy laughs, shaking his head. “What does that even mean? What…? That’s the worst fucking… analogy ever.”
“I know what I’m talking about, Ed. Like, have you ever seen me without a bird? All these years you know me, have I ever been without a woman?”
Cormac looks at her Wait, who's the she? like she’s holding his mother hostage, like she’s just clubbed fifty baby seals to death. You’re killing me, he tells her.
“You just broke up with Carole yesterday. You’re without a woman now.” Who's saying this, Eddy or this "she?"
“Exactly,” Cormac says, taking the bottle back and wiping the mouth with his sleeve. Then: “And do I look like I give a shit?”
She shakes her head and groans. You’re always so melodramatic, she says. I’m leaving, Cormac. We’re done. I mean, we’re just… Are you really getting anything out of this? We’re done. She’s saying these things like it’s public knowledge, the most obvious stuff in the world. Cormac does not compute. He’s grinding his teeth as hard as he can, he’s trying not to cry. Can’t you get that?, she asks again.
Cormac answers almost immediately, doesn’t even think about it.
“No,” Eddy tells him half-heartedly.
“Right. And I don’t. I don’t give one solitary shit, man.”
“So what happened, then? I thought you two were doing fine?”
“Nah,” Cormac croaks after a while. “That relationship was done for since fucking… forever. Girl was in denial, that’s all, so I did what was best for her. You know what they say, man.”
“What? What do they say, Cormac?”
“If it ain’t moving forward, then it’s moving towards the fiery depths of hell. But… What about you? What happened to you and…?”
Loretta glares at him but Eddy doesn’t say anything, he just lays there on the bed.
“Loretta.”
“Loretta? What, was she like a fifties blues singer or something? Was she an eighty year old black woman—? What sort of name is Loretta for a young girl?”
“It’s just a name,” Eddy mumbles. Adds: “Besides, your name is Cormac, Cormac. You shouldn’t make fun of anybody’s name.”
“Cormac like fucking Cormac McCarthy. And— Cormac like my grandfather who died in a world war, motherfucker—! Hey. You know what?[s]”[/s]
You’re an asshole." Edward shrugs and tries to listen to the radio instead of her. "Are you oh darling even listening to tell me what me?", she asks and for the first time in twenty minutes, he manages to look at her in the eyes. "Yes," Eddy moans. "I’m listening to you, I’m hearing what you’re saying." The radio keeps playing, muffling her words: "So it’s just I knew you’d like that, huh? We’re tell me they were over and you don’t care. Not even an wrong apology?" Edward shrugs again. "You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?"[s],[/s] she yells before walking towards the door. He's thinking of something to say. Well, that's not true. He knows exactly what he should say, just two little words.
“I’m sorry,” Eddy laughs. He watches Cormac drink from the bottle. “Alright, man? I’m really, really sorry.”
But he just mutters: "I know."
“Fuck you, man. You know how I get about my name. It’s a good name.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s a great name,” he says. And then, mocking: “Fantastic name. The best name ever.”
“Just… shut up. So, OK, yeah, what about you and Loretta then? What happened? You told her about Mandy?”
“Yeah, I told her about Mandy. And then… I don’t know. I didn’t even apologize about it, you know? I just… did this badass routine. Said nothing… Leave if you want, I don’t care, that type of thing. I was just too… scared to argue with her. To try to convince her into staying. Never been more scared in my life.”
“You know what you sound like?”
“What?”
“A fucking pussy, man.”
Cormac is standing in font of the door, blocking her way, a child talking to his divorcing parents, a dog weeping about his owners leaving on vacation. "Come on, come on, come on, just talk to me, Carole," he says. She just sighs again and tells him, deadpan: "You’re being childish." Cormac knows she’s right, but still: "You’re being childish! That doesn’t help."
“What is your problem?”
“I’m the voice of reason, Eddy. The only person that will tell you the way things really are. I mean, what? If she’d forgiven you about Mandy, then you’d still be with her. Right. And then what? You’d marry? Fuck that. Marriage is a sorry institution anyways, man. The government wants you to marry. Keeps men whipped, controlled. Keeps women as a minor workforce. Maintains the status quo.”
Look, Cormac, just… Good-bye, alright? I’m sorry. Really, I am. And then she’s gone. He stays in the hotel room he’d rented that night, alone and weeping."
“Are you drunk already?”
“Yeah, but that has nothing to do with nothing.”
"Rot in hell, Eddy. I mean that." And then she’s gone. Who's gone? Is Cormac or Eddie a she? He phones his friend a while later and, swear to God, Cormac sounds like he’s been crying.
“Right. Gimmie the bottle, I wanna catch up.”
“Here you go.”
"No. What? I’m not crying," he squeals as soon as he picks up the phone. Cormac sneezes. "I’m just a little bit sick, that’s all. What? No, yeah. I could use a drink."
“We don’t need women, man,” Cormac concludes. Edward grunts, trying not spit out the drink. “Right, man? Women need us, is more like it.”
"Great," Eddy says before hanging up.
“Yeah. You’re probably right. We don’t need anybody.”
“See? I’m always right. Cormac is always fucking right.”
When they meet up in the liquor store an hour later, Cormac forces Edward into buying whiskey instead of the vodka. Then they walk to the park and start drinking, surrounded by leafless trees, feeling the cool autumn wind on their faces. It’s already getting dark and Cormac, as it usually happens with these conversations, talks first.

Okay, with the nit-picks and line-by-line out of the way, here we go.

Individuality: I definitely don't think I've read a story similar to this one, which is of course a good thing. I don't know if you plan on expanding or keeping it as is, but either way I think you've done a pretty good job of creating an individual piece.

Characters: You're characters came across as very real. I can easily see real men sitting around doing the exact same thing. I'm not sure how much I like the characters, but that's fine. Readers don't have to like the characters to like the story.

Plot Development: This is a very short piece to critique, so I can't really comment on your overall writing style. I also don't know if you plan on expanding. Personally I think it would be fine either way. You could keep it like this or expand. If you do expand though, feel free to ask for another review.

Overall: I like the basic plot line behind the story, and your overall writing. However, the speech was very confusing in the beginning. Half the time I didn't know who was saying what and I'm still not quite sure who this "she" is. Maybe you could start us readers off with a little more information in the beginning, instead of just jumping right in to the conversation. It's not as exciting, yes, but it will benefit us because we'll know what's going on. Just a little background info. Tell us these people are sitting in a room drinking, so-and-so is over here, so-and-so is over there, stuff like that. Also, a little more often you might want to tell us who's saying what, instead of having Cormac said this, then ten lines of nothing but speech later Eddie said this, because right now it's hard to tell who's saying what.