Young Writers Society

Icaruss - I did read this before, but was just too lazy to write a crit ^_^ Now I’m here, though, and apologizing for the delay. You’ll get the line by line crit first, simply because old habits die hard, and them I’ll give you any impressions I might have.


Quote:
‘gone to LA with Cal don’t try and find us.’
Capitalize “gone”.


Quote:
Father -fat and sweaty, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and boxer shorts- spits out piece of bone, and looks over at his wife -short and wrinkled, thick rimmed glasses covering up most of her face-, expressionless.
Comma after the hyphen (which I think would need to be turned into a dash (two hyphens in MW)) doesn’t work. I had to reread this sentence, or, rather, reread it too get that ‘expressionless’ part. Get rid of it?


Quote:
I don’t know why it was different this time.
But what is? That, to me, isn’t entirely clear. I had to stop to consider this - which in itself is not good - and then was still open to different options, which again isn’t “good”.


Quote:
Cal Towney tries to keep his eyes on the road, smiles.
Cal Towney, trying to keep his eyes on the road, smiles.


Quotes:
They’ve been driving for about three hours straight, but there’s still a long way to go before Los Angeles is in the horizon, and a little more than an hour for the year 2000.
“Los Angeles is” - “Los Angeles will appear” (times), and “for” - “to“? (not very good with prepositions, here, but the one you have just feels wrong).


Quote:
The back seat is littered with empty beer bottles, and food wrappings, and Dylan’s voice comes out the old speakers in the rear like a whisper, and leaves out the open window, lost in the raging wind.
I’d suggest splitting this sentence, if not for its complexity (it is clear, so its not that), then just because of the length and the awkwardness that that length produces. Two sentences? If it were from any of the first person PoVs, I’d not have any problems, but here I somehow do.


Quote:
I mean, we should rob a bank— Kill a man!”
“Kill” - minors, I think. Though, if one looks at it as a start of a new sentence..? *is slightly confused with both the sentence and self.


Quote:
The road in front of them seems never ending, lit only by the glowing lights that frame it’s sides.
“it’s” - “its”, the overeager critter that I am.


Quote:
Ashley sits up straight, stares at Cal.
Either rephrase this, or add a linking word (or something that loosely resembles one), so that the sentence is not run-on, and the two parts detached.


Quote:
Ashley beams, for a second feeling genuinely loved and happy, but as the numbers in the dashboard counting the miles driven grows higher,
I cut off in the middle of that sentence, and for a reason - I have nothing to be nitpicky about toward the later parts. But the section before “but” - that I’d separate. It can, and I think should, stand on its own. The contrast (sort-ish) between the two parts would be more pronounces, and the first more emphasized. Erm. Yeah. I have problems with wording myself.


Quote:
If she’d worked there before, I hadn’t noticed but the first time I actually saw Ashley she looked spectacular.
Comma before “but”, “she”.


Quote:
Her body was surprisingly less voluptuous than that of her colleagues. Yet, she carried herself a certain way.
I’d merge those to, because “yet” on its own gives off the feeling of chunkiness.


Quote:
and it was only after the motel owner kicked me out that I reached inside my coat pocket, and noticed the piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it.
No comma before last :and”.


Quote:
She felt that she loved him even.
Comma, I think.


Quote:
She blinks, moves around: “Oh, oh!
I don’t like that colon.


Quote:
He clears his throat, gets ready.
“Getting”


Quote:
He moves his hand higher, slow, gentle, takes his time: “Nothing.”
Me no likes colon.


Quote:
Ashley stays put, the neon sign shining against the window painting her face purple, announcing: ‘American Family Motel.’
It kind of seems that she announces that. Rephrase? But then, that might be what you wanted, and so I’ll say that it could be the other way around too, which would still call for a rephrasing.


Quote:
Almost desperately, he moves her aside, starts pulling his pants lower, as she takes hers off, and he sighs and grabs her legs, she wraps them around his waist, and he’s ready, and she licks the sides of her lips, kisses him.
While I’d not let go of the length of that sentence - that is pretty cool - I’d want all those separate parts to be linked better, and to make more sense grammatically. In short, keep the general structure, and don’t split, but rephrase, slightly.


Well, with the above end the nitpicks.


***


The Cast.

-> Ash. I’ll start out with her, because I think that among all of your fantastic characters, she’s the best. Her own separate, unique style can be seen in both in her narrative and dialogue. I’d add one or two “man” in her first section, but other than that, she’s awesome.

-> Cal. While he didn’t stand out as Ash did - but Ash did all that for both of them - he also had his own unique personality. As a character, I liked him, and that’s important. His sections differed from Ashley’s, which is very cool.

-> Tom. I’ll reserve my judgment toward him for the later parts, depending on his role ^_^ The reader did have a chance to look differently at Ash, from neither her PoV or Cal’s. That semi--memory-dialogue, though, where you put hyphen and then the character’s words. I think those didn’t stand out enough - italics?

-> Parents. Their role was minimal, but still, well, memorable? Lots of info, little text. Cool.


Piecing. That worked out quite well, and I found the multiple PoVs enjoyable. I don’t think I was ever lost, which is important, and I was slowed down only that once. The story had three-dimensional characters, was well written, and all that cliché that your writing proves true. It was realistic, and does make me want to read more, something that I probably will do right after I stop writing this ^_^

Ah, and the colons. Those irritated me, a bit. I didn’t highlight them, since I don’t think they were really error errors, and perhaps it’s personal preference at some points - but that preference gives me the right to state in this critique that I didn’t like that sometimes.

The only thing that I can be picky about, scene-wise, is the one with Cal and Joanne. The part after the commercial, when he looks around, and then there’s mention of moving in. I found that to abrupt, from “looking around” to that paragraph, and I didn’t really like that. Other than that - everything flowed nicely, and I really don’t have anything to complain about. Nice work!


Cheers,
Esme

I loved it!!! Even with you jumping from different perspectives and different times I loved it. It was so descriptive and deep and exciting. You kept me anticipating more just because your verbage is so....poetic. I don't know I just love it and can't wait for more!!!

Well, you already have plenty of amazing critiques so I've not mentioned some points that stood out if they've already been covered, but probably will have repeated a few.

Father - fat and sweaty, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and boxer shorts- spits out a piece of bone, and, expressionless, looks over at his wife - short and wrinkled, thick-rimmed glasses covering up most of her face.

I’ve changed this a little. I’m not sure my suggestion really works either, but I didn’t like the comma following the dash.

only then, driving down the road towards LA, could I finally see it – we didn’t belong.

Changed the end of this sentence because I just think it sounds better as ‘could I’.

before Los Angeles is on the horizon, and a little more than an hour until the year 2000. The back seat is littered with empty beer bottles no comma necessary and food wrappings, and Dylan’s voice comes out the old speakers in the rear like a whisper, and leaves out the open window, lost in the raging wind.

The last couple of phrases here need reworked. There just seems to be a few too many ideas trying to make it into the sentence. You could use a full stop after ‘whisper’ then a new sentence: ‘Leaves out the open window are lost in the raging wind.’ But then I’m not sure that fits your writing style. Either way, although the original sentence is understandable after a couple of reads, it’s just a bit too cluttered.

”I mean, we should rob a bank — kill a man!”

never-ending, lit only by the glowing lights that frame its sides .

There’s no other car travelling but them

See gyrfalcon’s point.

But… sure. Yeah.

I don’t think you need a capital letter after an ellipsis in this kind of scenario, but I’m not 100% sure. There are a few instances of this in the story.

Liked Tom’s remarks about the food! XD

Dialogue in the body of the text - sometimes you use a hyphen to introduce it, sometimes a colon. I think it would be better to still use quotation marks.

Colgate, number one recommended by doctors all around the world

Would it not be dentists?

Registration is uneventful.

This sentence doesn’t really seem necessary.

putting them on the tiny table next to the bed

It’s a new millennium already, but in the room nothing’s changed.

I liked this. The story is realistic, not sugar-coated, and this is one of those sentences that pick up aspects of real life that you don’t really see in books or on TV. Like the last section of this part of the story:

I just wish I could tell you all of the things that I… never really learned how to say, you know?”

“That’s alright, Ashley,” he says. “I love you too.”

Overall:

With regard to punctuation, you use a lot of commas. I don’t think I’ve ever read so many in this amount of words! Most of the time, it works for the style. However, it might be a good idea to read through it carefully and decide if you could start new sentences or use a different type of punctuation in certain cases. As a previous reviewer mentioned, many of the ellipses in the characters’ monologues don’t really work. They draw attention to themselves and slow the pace a little.

From Cal’s introduction, you strike the right balance between information and intrigue. I got slightly confused with some of the time changes but I think, once I’ve read parts two and three again, I’ll get it. The flashbacks work well – you chose the right place to begin the story. As I said before, the ending is also strong.

I actually feel more sympathy for Cal than Ashley. I think, out of the two, he’s easier to relate to. Ashley obviously has a lot of issues, but it certainly makes for an interesting character.

I think in this first part of the story you have managed to do an awful lot, despite the fact that readers still aren’t really sure what’s going on in the present-day yet. Each snapshot manages to add to your characters, so that by the end of the piece we could have been reading about them for twice as long. The informal tone even adds to the atmosphere (you just know these characters aren’t going to have everything handed to them on a silver platter), characters (they’re ordinary people) and realistic impression of the story.

All in all, a strong first section.

Icaruss, this is lovely! Honestly, I loved it. I have the attention span of a four-year-old, but you caught my interest and held it hostage.

Cal is an adorable, seemingly stuck in the past guy. I don't know why exactly, but I like him. He feels well developed, which is good. Ashley on the other hand still feels distant to me. I feel like her motives are pretty vague. But she reminds me of myself, so I'm a bit attached to her as well.

I have no idea where this is going. Honestly. As a few other people stated, I don't really understand why you started at this point in the story. I'll just have to wait and see, I suppose.

Your grammar was very good, overall. A few things I could nitpick, but they've been covered. One thing that did bother me a bit was your use of ellipses. Some of the places where they are used could be filled just as well, or better, with a comma. Right now I find them charming, but you're walking a fine line between just enough and overuse/misuse.

Thanks for giving me something great to read. Look forward to more.

This is excellent. It is all something I could see happening in real life. I was automatically imagined a movie coming out in my mind. I liked the professionalism in the piece. I felt like I reading a book. I can really see this published. Icaruss, when I read your pieces I see a certain maturity that you have when you write. I can see a 37 year old dude write this, but I would be sort of shocked that a 17 year old would write this. There is nothing to review (probably some nit-picky stuff, but I usually don't see that) Overall good job. I enjoyed this. I highly recommend that you publish and write a tutorial on how you make everything so realistic and how you can make your so professional.

I think this is excellent. I love the style, and the changing of characters. I too was a bit confused at first, but I could tell by your writing abilitly it would make sense later (which it did) and it made me just want to keep reading! Very interesting, and it holds your attention very well. If others comment that it is confusing, my opinion is that it is perfectly fine. When you keep reading it works out, and its much better to start a story and make the reader wonder a little.

Hey, I really liked this. There was something really raw about the piece and the shifting that I thought worked excellently with the Dylan song you titled it with.

Your characters were fleshed out really well and everyone felt different, but the way the constant frame shifts were made kinda felt like I was getting tugged all over the place. All the story lines you have going on separately are really interesting and could probably make short stories out of themselves, but when you throw them all together they kinda overloaded me as the reader.

Your writing style and dialouge were really polished and mature, excellent use of internal monolouge (or otherwise talking through a kind of postcard format). I like how you accurately portrayed these peoples live, the sex, the swearing, the smoking, vices are real. But sometimes the execution was a little flat, especially the sex scenes. Keep that stuff in, but maybe touch it up a bit.

The whole mood and atmosphere of the work is killer, it really sets up the struggles of each of the characters.

Nice work, I thought it was very unique and fresh. Keep it up!

TANGLED UP IN BLUE
CAL.[It took me just a moment to see what you was doing here. With the name tags. It's a good idea but I think a colon would work better than a full stop or perhaps starting the first sentence on the next line, under the name of the Narrator.] Remember when you told me that—? No, [I think a full stop would work better than a comma here.] well, of course you don’t. Sorry, silly question. It’s just that I always find myself thinking about you when things over here get rough. I know I should still be angry but it all seems to have happened so long ago that the bad things you did to me are just… forgotten. [This makes your character feel so...bland. All of the bad things. That's such a childish phrase. I get the impression that you're trying to build a mature narrator and he's talking about a serious event in his life. This sort of phrasing almost belittles what has happened to him. You want your reader's to be curious about what this anonymous person did to him and instead they brush it away, just as your Narrator does.] I tell myself that I should think about that morning, when I woke up and you were gone. I tell myself that I should think about how you started talking nonsense I was supposed to understand. [This is a good line.] I tell myself I should think about all the promises you made and broke. I know it’s silly but I… I met someone. A girl. And when we had sex I felt guilt. It’s been nearly ten years, and I still can’t… I keep expecting you to show up. You never do.
It’s early in the morning now, and I’m laying in bed, thinking if you’ve changed at all, if your… hair is still the same colour I have stapled in my mind, and you –thousands of miles away, living the life you dreamt of when we were kids- are most likely thinking about something else entirely. Hell, I bet that to you I’m nothing but a footnote, an amusing anecdote for your new friends and your husband. You probably tell them you were a little crazy back when we were together. And, you know, you’d be right. Crazier than me, at least.
It was your idea, Ashley, and that’s what kills me.
That it was your fucking idea. [This would be more effective as 'It was your fucking idea.']
New Year’s Eve, 1999. There’s a letter pasted on the fridge, written in a rush, that reads: ‘gone to LA with Cal don’t try and find us.’
Nobody has noticed.
The family is having dinner in the living room, their eyes all fixed upon the television in front of them as they munch on the stale chicken. There is still a dish in the oven. Father -fat and sweaty, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and boxer shorts- spits out piece of bone, and looks over at his wife -short and wrinkled, thick rimmed glasses covering up most of her face-, expressionless.
“Where’s Ashley?” he asks.
Mother shrugs, still staring at the TV. “I don’t know.” [I liked this. Simple but effective and you present two strong characters but I'd like to see more description of the room. I'd like to feel the atmosphere. Are there decorations? And if so, are they magnificent or pitiful? Is there a fire burning, is the TV on?]
ASH. It happened a couple of weeks after I left Cal. My parents had taken me back reluctantly, but I could tell that it didn’t really make a difference if I was living with them or not. They barely noticed. I tried to sleep out as often as I could— sometimes staying at a friend’s place and sometimes sleeping in the beds of strangers. Must’ve been dozens of times I picked up guys simply because feeling like a slut was easier than feeling like you [She sounds a selfish character. Build on this, emphasise it. Stick with I, don't bring the second person in.] didn’t even matter. I don’t really know why it happened. I try to tell myself that it isn’t my fault, but that’s just complete bullshit. [Good, you've managed to make her voice very unique and separate from Cal's.] Truth is I’m a fucking idiot, always have been. Like, it was me who bailed on Cal. And it was me who called up my friends, and told them we should hit some bars, pick up some guys. It was a Wednesday, I think.
I don’t know why it was different this time. Maybe I just missed Cal and… how he could make me feel like the best person in the world even though I knew I was a terrible human being. And… how he could look at me like I was beautiful, other than just hot or fuckable. You know, people always ask me why I left him, and I guess I don’t really know exactly why. I just… I panicked. I couldn’t see myself living my life with him. It was as if I… I had been fooling myself all that time we were together, and only then, driving down the road towards LA, I could [This would read more smoothly as '...towards LA, could I...'] finally see it, that we didn’t belong. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him. I loved him, man, I still do. I just felt that… we were ruining whatever it was that we had together. The only good thing I had in my life, I felt like it was going to be over if we went through with it. So I bailed.
And then this happened. [Good. You almost lost me for a moment there. I mean, until now the hook seemed to be what it was she did to him but then the reader finds out and I was thinking what is there to keep me reading this then? But it appears there's something.]
New Year’s Eve, 1999. She sticks her head out the window and screams. Cal Towney tries to keep his eyes on the road, smiles. [I think this would be better as '...tries to keep his eyes on the road. He smiles.']
“Would you settle down?”
“It’s the end of the millennium, man, live a little.”
The car is an old, broken down Cadillac Towney inherited from his uncle, and it reeks of cigarettes, booze and fast food. They’ve been driving for about three hours straight, but there’s still a long way to go before Los Angeles is in [On the horizon sounds better.] the horizon, and a little more than an hour [s]for[/s] until the year 2000. The back seat is littered with empty beer bottles, and food wrappings, and Dylan’s voice comes out the old speakers in the rear like a whisper, and leaves out the open window, lost in the raging wind. Cal eyes Ashley Bateman and chuckles.
“What the fuck does that mean, live a little? What are we doing right now?”
“Eloping to Los Angeles,” she answers, giggling. “But it’s never enough, honey. I mean, we should rob a bank— Kill a man!”
Cal laughs. “Kill a man? Now you want to kill a man?” [I'm loving your dialogue. Ashley's character is really shining through and so is Cal's though not quite so strongly.]
The road in front of them seems never ending, lit only by the glowing lights that frame [s]it’s[/s] its sides. There’s no other car travelling but them, and most of their friends are probably back in town [s]in[/s] at a party, getting drunk, trying to figure out who to kiss when the clock hits midnight. Ashley sits up straight, stares at Cal.
“I don’t know, would you do that for me?”
“Well, who would I have to kill?” [How is this said? Is he still joking and laughing about it or is he asking seriously now?]
“It doesn’t matter who, man. You’d be doing it for me.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t kill my father or, you know, my mother. But… Sure. Yeah. I’d kill for you. Why not?”
Ashley leans forward, kisses him on the cheek. “You are the sweetest.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m known for.”
Ashley beams, for a second feeling genuinely loved and happy, but as the numbers in the dashboard counting the miles driven grows higher, and the number of tracks left in the Dylan album grows lower, and the conversation grows thinner, and the look in Cal’s eyes grows warmer and warmer, the smile fades away and her face turns grave. She feels something in the pit of her stomach. It is not good. [You had quite a lovely atmosphere and a nice building of dread until that last sentence. I'd suggest 'She feels fear' or worry or dread or something.]
CAL. You should see them, Ash. First there’s Georgie, this fat, smelly guy who never, ever leaves the house. I mean, there was this earthquake a couple of days ago and he didn’t even get out of bed. And I have no idea of how in the world he makes rent every month, because all I ever see him do is sit around the house getting high. Something with computers, I think. Then there’s Dawson, who is OK, I guess. A little bit uptight, and sort of a yuppie, but he lets us read the movie scripts he gets from work. That’s always cool. Right now I’m working as a waiter. Disappointing, I know, but what the hell can you do? We never really thought it through, our plan, which is probably why you left me. We were such idiots, weren’t we? Going to LA, getting married, growing famous together. Seemed so easy to do, but I’m almost thirty now. What the fuck have I accomplished with my life? If I’d known it would be this way I wouldn’t have kept going. I would’ve gone back with you, asked you why you left, maybe worked it out. I mean, I have auditions all the time, but I’ve kinda lost faith at this point. It doesn’t feel new or exciting anymore, you know? And I met a girl the other day. The one I told you about. She’s an actress, too. Her name is Joanne.
It was the funniest thing. I come back to the house from my shift, and there’s like half a dozen people smoking dope with Georgie. I mean, at first I was mad, you know? I work all fucking day long, when I come back to the house, all I wanna do is lay in bed. But then I met her. She reminds me of you, Ashley. You know, she puts up this… crazy, whimsy girl act just like you did. Talks like she’s reading off a page. And she likes me. That doesn’t happen often, right? She walked into the kitchen, and asked me where we kept the beers. It was a silly question, the fridge was right there, and it took me a second to even notice that she was speaking to me.
Joanne’s pretty too.
Big blue eyes and hay-coloured hair. A nice ass and big tits too, which we know you never had. Heh. Look at me. Trying to make you jealous. First good thing that’s happened to me in months and all I can think about is what you’d say about it. What you’d think of Joanne. And she was so sweet, too, Ashley, I swear to God, she thought I was funny, she listened to the things I said, and she took an interest in me, which you never, ever did. I can see that now. It took me a while, but I can see that you were selfish, and uncaring, and just plain unkind. Me and Joanne, we made out in my room, and then we… did the nasty. She didn’t speak much after that, which I thought was weird. Later she asked me who I’d been thinking about during… You know. It broke my heart, Ashley. I had to lie.
Seconds later Georgie comes into the room laughing like a fucking idiot, and gives me two thumbs up. Behind him are Joanne’s friends, giggling. On a scale from one to ten, I’d give it an eight in awkwardness. [This section was good though strangely I feel no sympathy for Cal. He seems to have a pretty alright life. If you want us to feel sorry for him, you need to describe his job more, show us how he's wasting his life away. Give us an anecdote about one audition he messed up or a particularly awful situation.]
TOM. I met the girl when she was working in a topless bar, and I pulled in for a drink. The place was called the Shining Light (which is a weird name for that kind of joint) and they had naked waitresses and, of course, strippers, which is pretty much all you need to pull in crowds of men. The food was also excellent. And I do mean it, ‘cause women always think that when guys talk about good food in titty bars they are just trying to justify the fact that they even go to titty bars, but hey, I don’t need to justify shit. I like titty bars. And the food in the Shining Light was fucking excellent. [Good, strong introduction for the new character.]
If she’d worked there before, I hadn’t noticed but the first time I actually saw Ashley she looked spectacular. I was sitting in the back of the place, having a smoke, and she comes over topless, wearing nothing but one of those tiny, black skirts the waitresses had to use. Notebook and pencil in hand, she asks me what I wanted. [Need to either be she asks me what I want or she asked me what I wanted. The former works best.] I’m like, -Bring me a beer and a shot of tequila, but I’m thinking that all I want is her. It’s not that she was particularly pretty or hot by any conventional assessment. Her face was covered in make-up, and she looked like a clown. Her body was surprisingly less voluptuous than that of her colleagues. Yet, she carried herself a certain way. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s the kind of girl you see, and… just really want to hump. I mean, I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but there’s a certain kind of girl, and I’m not just talking about movie stars or models, that just acts and looks in a way that makes you want to fuck her just then and there. And Ashley fell into that category.
When she came over with the drinks I asked her why she wasn’t up there [s]in[/s] on the stage dancing and she told me she had a little something called self-respect. What’s the difference between dancing naked and waiting naked? And she laughs and goes -I don’t fucking know, man, but strippers are just a step away from being whores and if I have to work naked I wanna stay at least two steps away from prostitution. A couple of minutes later I asked her when she was off. She grinned.
I took her to a bar close to the motel I was living in, and half an hour of drinking later we were already making out in the bathroom. I asked her if she wanted to go back to my motel room, and she told me -Sure, yeah, alright, whatever. When we finished, she gave me her number and left. I didn’t think about her for weeks after that, and it was only after the motel owner kicked me out that I reached inside my coat pocket, and noticed the piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it. I said -Hello, and then there was a pause. She didn’t know who I was and I didn’t really blame her, so I told her: -Tom, you know, Thomas Braddock, I don’t have anyone else to call. Next thing I know, I’m sleeping at her place. [I like the bluntness of this character. And he sounds like a complete asshole but that's okay so long as you don't want us to like him.]
New Year’s Eve’s Eve, 2008. Joanne didn’t expect Cal to call, but he did. They had been seeing each other for about a month now and every time they got together she felt that she liked him a little bit more. She felt that she loved him even. Cal wanted to feel like that too. They lay in bed next to each other, and he says:
“Look, I’m sure you’ve heard it. They used to play it [s]in[/s] on the radio every day.” Cal clears his throat and hums a tune. “Right?”
He hums again. Joanne nods enthusiastically.
“Oh, my God! The— Jesus Christ, the happy fucking gums commercial! Oh, my God,” she laughs, suddenly remembering. Cal chuckles, a bit embarrassed. “You were in that? Really? That is hilarious.”
“Well, thanks for not making fun of me.”
Joanne snickers. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—” She blinks, moves around: “Oh, oh! Say the thing! Please, please, please say that thing you say.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t be mean. Come on, please. Just don’t be an asshole and say it.” She punches him in the arm. Cal moans. “Come on, just say it.”
“OK, OK. Alright.” He clears his throat, gets ready. And then, solemnly: “Pure. Fresh. Clean. And happy. Colgate, number one recommended by doctors all around the world.” He pauses. Joanne claps. He bows. “Happy?”
“More than. Ecstatic. Thrilled.”
Cal looks around. [Okay so your dialogue here is awesome, now I'm really starting to understand Cal but where's the actions, where's descriptions? Are they nestles against each other on the sofa? Laying naked together in bed? Describe! Is this a poky little apartment that belongs to one of them?]
It doesn’t take him long to realize that her room is much larger than his. The wallpaper is rosy and warm, and the bed is large and comfortable. There’s not much light other than the one that creeps from the small, bow-like window looming over the wooden desk full of old, unused notebooks and a dusty computer monitor. The floor is carpeted, green. The apartment as a whole is, also, rather roomy, and she lives alone. No obese, symbiotic room-mates bothering her. [Looks like I criticised too soon but you need to get a little of this in earlier. Thread description between your dialogue tags.]
Is it too soon to move in? [Love this line. It shows Cal's feeling about the room immediately and how he views this relationship. Exactly where his priorities are.]
Probably. He doesn’t want to scare her away, and he’d feel guilty if he made that decision more for his sake, than because of… love or whatever. Cal’s hand moves towards her leg, and touches her thigh. Joanne laughs, softly:
“What are you doing, Cal?”
He moves his hand higher, slow, gentle, takes his time: “Nothing.”
Something rings. It’s his phone.
ASH. I don’t remember his name. The girls told me I could report him or something, but I swear I don’t know what the bastard’s name is. I mean, we must’ve hit two bars before we got there, and faces, names, dates, they all get tangled up when you’re out drinking. It was this new place up in Copley. Some friends had told us about it. And we got there and… it was a tiny, cramped up room with purple lights and music and a bar, and it just stank, man. Sweat and cigarettes, you know? I couldn’t even see the person in front of me because of all the smoke and shit. So we go to the bathroom, right? And it’s just disgusting. There’s a girl whose nose is bleeding sitting on the floor, and there’s coke in the sink, and we’re ready to get out of there, but Maggie, this girl I barely knew, she somehow convinces us to stay. We were already pretty drunk by then, but she says we should have at least a few more drinks before we call it a night. And I’m not saying it was her fault. Look, I already said it’s all on me, and besides I’m pretty sure that what Maggie was saying didn’t sound like a particularly bad idea. It was, though. [Some good description. Ash is a very endearing character, good work.]
And at the bar there was this guy.
He didn’t look like a bad person. He was actually… pretty handsome, to tell the truth. I remember he was wearing a blue blazer and suede shoes. He was overdressed, yeah, but it’s like it made him seem classier than the other guys, refined even. I mean, most of the men there were average-looking at best and we were all, like, gawking at this dude, shamelessly, and he looked at me. At me. All of my friends giggled and poked me and dared me to go talk to him, and… I was going to do so anyways. You see what I’m saying about it being my fault?
A man does nothing other than smile and I’m already throwing myself at him.
He spoke with an accent, but I could tell he was faking it. Don’t know why he did that. My point is, though, that he seemed like an OK guy. He bought me a drink, and we talked for a while. What’s your name? What do you do for a living? Who are you here with? Are you doing anything later? Do you want another drink? And when my friends told me they were leaving, I said that I might stick around for a while.
You know, there’s this look people give you when they know you’re doing something stupid and can’t do anything to stop you. I kinda get that look a lot. It’s… Friends are silly, man. When you stay away from guys you’re square. When you go with them you’re a tramp. I remember that a bunch of them used to say that stripping wasn’t deplorable at all, that a woman should have the right to do whatever she wants with her body, that being a stripper isn’t something girls should be ashamed of. Now, none of them even talk to me. It’s funny.
And he said: Do you wanna get out of here?
And I said: Yeah, sure. [I really can't fault your sections for Ash, she's great.]
New Year’s Eve, 1999. The only sound left in the car by the time they get to the motel is the motor rattling on and the wind tumbling inside. When they stop moving, Cal turns the key and walks out. Ashley stays put, the neon sign shining against the window painting her face purple, announcing: ‘American Family Motel.’
She reads these words three times over.
Outside, Cal is already carrying the bags. Hers too. She rushes out, and reaches up to him. They walk towards reception without a word. He knows something is wrong, but can’t tell what it is exactly. So, he asks:
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she says dryly, before putting her arm around his.
“Do you want to get some champagne, or something? For New Year?”
“We don’t really have enough money for champagne, Cal.”
He doesn’t know if she’s trying to be funny but he laughs anyways, then says: “Well, I can get us some fizzy cider.”
Registration is uneventful.
The room number is 306 and it is ridiculously small. The king-size bed Cal specifically requested takes up most of the space, and everything in it has been obsessively cleansed, in a way that makes it obvious that it has been used hundreds of times before, by hundreds of other couples. Ashley wonders for a second how many of them are still together, while Cal scoffs and complains: [A good paragraph.]
“This is ridiculous. You can’t be comfortable here.” She’s already taking off her earrings, putting them in the tiny table next to the bed, dropping her t-shirt on the floor, her shoes. Cal is still carrying the bags. “Do you want me to go have a word with them? They can’t put us in here.”
“It’s alright, man. Just forget about it.”
“No, but… I mean, I want you to be comfortable. We might as well have slept in the car, right? This is ridiculous.”
Ashley sits on the bed, wearing nothing but her bra and jeans. “Look, just drop the bags and come here. ”
Cal does exactly as he’s told.
She kisses him as soon as he gets close enough, and then they go at it. She claws on his back, climbs on top of him. She still has her bra on, but one of the cups is off, and she moves her hand downwards, trying to undo his pants. The walls of the room are thin, enough so that the people next to them can probably hear them. They don’t seem to care. Ashley moans, and Cal feels something go loose. Almost desperately, he moves her aside, starts pulling his pants lower, as she takes hers off, and he sighs and grabs her legs, [You need to either split this sentence here or use a semi colon.] she wraps them around his waist, and he’s ready, and she licks the sides of her lips, kisses him. Then, stops.
Cal groans, Ash moves her face away from his.
“What is it?”
“Just… Wait a second.”
“Are you OK? Did I hurt you?”
“What? No. Hurt me? No, it’s just…” She quiets herself down, she chooses her words carefully, she swallows. “I don’t wanna— I mean, are you sure?”
“About what?”
“About… this. About all of this, what we’re doing, are you sure?”
“Yeah… Why would you even…? I mean, yeah. Are you?”
“I’m not asking about me. I’m… Look, I’m gonna…” There’s a pause. Cal has turned pale. “Do you remember Samantha Harris?”
“What—?”
“Samantha Harris. She used to go to school with us. She was, like, the prettiest, nicest girl. Everybody loved her, right? And one time… This was ages ago, I don’t even know why I’m— Look, she brought this doll, this huge doll for show and tell.”
Cal laughs. “Show and tell?”
“Don’t… This is serious, man. Don’t laugh. I’m being serious. She brought this huge doll and it was beautiful, everybody was drooling over it. Me too, and Samantha wasn’t even gloating or nothing, she let everybody play with, but… I couldn’t— I waited for everybody to leave. Remember those general assemblies we used to have? With the prizes and everything? I waited till everybody was gone, and I went to Samantha Harris’ desk, and I grabbed the doll and I smashed it. I just… slammed it against the wall and broke it.” [The confession is well written and there's good suspense in this seen but add actions. Is she gripping the covers now, the knuckles on her hands turning white. I she holding him, squeezing him. Is the room starting to feel cold from their lack of movement as they both stay still, breathing each other's breath but feeling awkward and apart?]
He is no longer hard. Ashley is still on top of him, speaking directly into his mouth. Each word is a breeze of hot air down his throat, but it’s not pleasant.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, Ash.”
“That’s not the point, though, is it? God,” she sighs and rolls away from him. Deadpan, she speaks, staring at the ceiling: “Look, here’s this girl, man, alright? And she’s the nicest girl ever. She never did me no wrong, never even rubbed me the wrong way, and still, I am so fucking jealous of her that I break her shit.”
Cal listens to her breathing for a while. She’s agitated, angry. “I don’t… Well, I’m sure you had your reasons, right? I’m sure she was sort of a bitch. The kind of person that seems nice, but in reality… You know. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“I didn’t have any. That’s what I’m saying, that’s the whole thing. I just did it for no reason at all.”
They can hear some laughter coming from the next room, and when the screaming and the whooping starts they realize they haven’t talked for about ten minutes. It’s a new millennium already, but in the room nothing’s changed. Cal has been thinking of all the possible things he could say. Ashley has been thinking of what she’ll do tomorrow. Eventually, he tells her:
“I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t. That’s kind of the… Cal, I’m sorry. Forget that I said anything, alright? I’m so sorry. I just wish I could tell you all of the things that I… never really learned how to say, you know?”
“That’s alright, Ashley,” he says. “I love you too.” [I love this ending. You really start to see the connection between these two and that something doesn't quite work. That Cal doesn't quite understand Ash. You've got a really good start here and some well developed characters. I think your atmosphere could be stronger in some places but in general, this works really well and your switching of view points is effective and smooth. The whole format of this piece works nicely and it builds up the tension. What worries me a little is this: where's the real hook, where's the story. So they've broken up, so they've split up and you've shown us why and neither of them are happy but... there needs to be more. There's been a few hints that Ash's life is really down but she doesn't seem upset enough about it to worry the reader, to really help the reader sympathise with her situation. These characters are great but sometimes, the emotion is missing. Good work so far.]

Hey Icaruss! Here's the promised (and very late) critique!

Nit-Picks

Remember when you told me that—? No, well, of course you don’t. Sorry, silly question. It’s just that I always find myself thinking about you when things over here get rough. I know I should still be angry but it all seems to have happened so long ago that the bad things you did to me are just… forgotten. I tell myself that I should think about that morning, when I woke up and you were gone. I tell myself that I should think about how you started talking nonsense I was supposed to understand. I tell myself I should think about all the promises you made and broke. I know it’s silly but I… I met someone. A girl. And when we had sex I felt guilt. It’s been nearly ten years, and I still can’t… I keep expecting you to show up. You never do.

Up 'til the end there, I thought the MC was a girl. Maybe work on making it slightly more masculine? 'cause the end doesn't even make me believe it's a boy – I just assumed she was a lesbian or bi.

It’s early in the morning now, and I’m laying in bed, thinking if you’ve changed at all, if your…

What's the point of the ellipses here?

“Where’s Ashley?” he asks.

Maybe have him ask when he comes home and takes out his meal and sees hers? Just to make him seem less aware, like his wife.

Mother shrugs, still staring at the TV. “I don’t know.”

I really liked this section, but I can't figure out who's POV it's in. Sure, it's third person, but we should be sitting next to someone – the father, maybe?

Maybe I just missed Cal and… how he could make me feel like the best person in the world even though I knew I was a terrible human being. And… how he could look at me like I was beautiful, other than just hot or fuckable.

I'd ditch both those ellipses. Overuse them and the needed ones lose effect.

She sticks her head out the window and screams.

Maybe 'shouts' or 'yells' or something? Something that doesn't make us think she's freaking out in a bad way.

and food

Maybe 'fast food wrappings'?

“Eloping to Los Angeles,”

'Elope to?' Don't you mean 'Eloping in?'

Now, none of them even talk to me.

Yeah they do – they're with her! Or are you talking about other friends? Explain, please.

And I'd ditch the comma after 'now.'

as she takes hers off,

Hers what?

“That’s alright, Ashley,” he says. “I love you too.”

Again, I don't know who I was with this part (the whole last New Years Eve part, not the whole piece or this sentence.) You write so well it's almost unnoticeably, but it will really help your piece if you let us stand next to someone, see what they see, feel what they feel, and only see the reactions of the feelings of others.

Overall Comments

*Gold star*

That's really all I can say. You're way too good, Icaruss, and I'm just sitting here waiting for you to get published.

PM me for anything.

~JFW1415