*bows* Thanks for reading. It's been fun.
^_^ Keek out!
Had someone told Johnny that “Can you please take Sandra Tscarediway to 57 Rosebend Avenue?” was a question to which he should answer no if he valued his peace of mind—he would have laughed.
she would not, in fact, come to the taxi but instead remain firmly seated on the front steps, staring him down.
Had someone told Johnny that “Can you please take Sandra Tscarediway to 57 Rosebend Avenue?” was a question to which he should answer no if he valued his peace of mind—he would have laughed.
Whoa. Slow down. This was insanely wordy. XD It was a great opening sentence, but really wordy. Maybe you can cut it down just a little?
I had insane amounts of fun writing this (I've got a couple stories like this; fun idea with no plot at the time) so I'd really like to continue it now that i've got a vague plot for it.
Had someone told Johnny that “Can you please take Sandra Tscarediway to 57 Rosebend Avenue?” was a question to which he should answer no if he valued his peace of mind—he would have laughed.
[s]Because, in[/s] In fact, it was not a question but an instruction.
)And so the option of refusing did not[b], in fact, exist.
In fact, they had entirely failed to warn him that she didn’t actually want to go anywhere and therefore—when he pulled up into the driveway of the orphanage—she would not in fact come to the taxi but instead remain firmly seated on the front steps, staring him down.
You would, I’m sure, agree that this was a run-on. Because, in fact, it was not a question but an instruction. And so the option of refusing did not in fact exist. The dispatcher who had given this instruction had made no mention of the fact that the person he was supposed to pick up and drive to Rosebend Avenue was an orphan, or that she was not going to be in a good mood. In fact, they had entirely failed to warn him that she didn’t actually want to go anywhere and therefore—when he pulled up into the driveway of the orphanage—she would not in fact come to the taxi but instead remain firmly seated on the front steps, staring him down. But since this was what happened, it was no particular relief to him when a portly woman with a red face pulled the girl up by the shoulder and bustled her into the car.
Go to either www.thesaurus.com or www.m-w.com to find synonyms if you need them. This last undertaking had turned into an ordeal, [no comma]because it seemed Sandra Tsgo’scarediway was exceptionally good at resisting being [s]bustled[/s] sent [?] to places, especially cars.
With an exasperated sound [s]borernign[/s] bordering on a sigh and a groan, the woman had hurried back into the building.
In the meantime, Sandra had made good her [s]escpe[/s] escape, fleeing across the parking lot and behind a red sedan parked there.
Johnny [s]had[/s] had no idea what to do.
Eyes narrowing, the woman had stormed across the parking lot after the girl, who had immediately [s]vauilted[/s] vaulted over the car and darted back into the orphanage.
He had seen things fly [s]form[/s] from windows and heard shouts on every floor of the building.
Fifteen minutes later, a [s]soaking[/s] sopping wet and quivering woman dragged an equally soaking girl to the car, put her bag into the trunk, and slammed the door shut.
Sandra [s]had then[/s] pulled back her shoulder length mass of soaking tangled curls from her face and flashed him a smile.
“Good morning,” she had chirped— [comma instead] as if she hadn’t just proven herself to be the manifestation of trouble.
Johnny [s]had[/s] sat back in his seat.
“This will be the third house I go to. [comma instead]” [s]She[/s] she [s]had[/s] announced out of nowhere. “Usually the director would drive me… [comma instead] but I wrote in white on his black leather seats, so he won’t let me within ten feet of his car anymore.”
Johnny nodded as if accepting what she was saying, but his mind was screaming: You have leather seats! Sandra smiled
“I didn’t do it because I’m bad, [semi or period] I did it because I like to live up to people’s expectations.
Johnny kept an eye on her, the word white-out and leather seats having put him on full alert.
With a sigh, Johnny drove away. He needed a coffee.
Anyways, after reading DoaV, this is a great change in plot, but it still has your "feel" of writing to it.
And yeah, I've been reading through the many pages I wrote of this story and there are a lot of run on sentences. =P (You know it's bad when you read and entire paragraph and only see two periods. >.<)
Sleeping Valor wrote:I'm glad you liked it.
And yeah, I've been reading through the many pages I wrote of this story and there are a lot of run on sentences. =P (You know it's bad when you read and entire paragraph and only see two periods. >.<)
Thanks for reading!
) where I really have no plot but have a ton of details worked out. Yeah, they're pretty darn fun, no?
It is a knock-out clever sentence, but it is also incredibly hard to read. In fact, the entire second paragraph is a little bit of a challenge.
Clever? So glad you think so. I have yet to find a way of simplifying it without taking away from what I must have been trying to accomplish.
Had someone told Johnny [s]that[/s] “[s]Can[/s]Could you please take Sandra Tscarediway to 57 Rosebend Avenue?” was a question to which he should answer no if he valued his peace of mind—he would have laughed.
This last undertaking had turned into an ordeal, because it seemed Sandra Tsgo’scarediway was exceptionally good at resisting being bustled places, especially cars.
This last undertaking had turned into an ordeal, because it seemed Sandra Tsgo’scarediway was exceptionally good at resisting being bustled places, especially cars. When she first sat down in the back of the car, she had immediately made an announcement.
“I left my bag in my room.”
who had immediately vauilted over the car and darted back into the orphanage.
With an exasperated sound borernign on a sigh and a groan, the woman had hurried back into the building. In the meantime Sandra had made good her escpe, fleeing across the parking lot and behind a red sedan parked there.
He had seen things fly form windows and heard shouts on every floor of the building.
Sandra had then pulled back her shoulder length mass of soaking tangled curls from her face and flashed him a smile.
Johnny nodded as if accepting what she was saying, but his mind was screaming: You have leather seats! Sandra smiled.
She began tapping a ditty on the window.
“Is this a new complex?” she asked.
“Uh…no. It’s been up for a few years.”
Sandra had a suspicious expression on her face, but Johnny was busy looking for the house number. He pulled up into the driveway and popped the trunk.
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