Sushi (sushimustwrite) wrote,

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As promised, an excerpt of my bad writing.

The original text is in bold for easier reading. The regular font is my commentary.

A lot of people think I’m desperate for what I do, that I’m a money-hungry whore, but that’s not true at all.
Desperate for what you do? Hon, you must really love your job. As for being a money-hungry whore, I can't really help you there.

They don’t know the truth, though, the real story of how I got here. My life is an ocean, and all I can do is follow it. This is my story.
I guess I was just trying to get something down on paper. But what's up with the ocean? She isn't a prostitute, she's a stripper... well, if she actually gets there.

It was one of those Friday afternoons.
And what, exactly, did I mean by that? Methinks someone doesn't have the talent of Douglas Adams comparing days of the week here.

I should have been excited; after all, it was payday. But somehow my shitty paycheck and the stack of bills on my kitchen table weren’t enough to make me happy.
Duh, Sujin, of course they weren't enough to make her happy. She's broke! Well, not completely. But she'll be pretty close soon. How about, "They weren't enough to drive her to suicide"? Or "They weren't enough to drive her into group therapy with others in quarter-life enormous debt"? It's more accurate, anyway.

“Sasha!” someone yelled from behind me. The voice sounded familiar.
Wow, we get a name for the narrator! Now maybe she can smack some common sense into her author to write her with more style.

“It’s payday,” Vanessa said, running toward me and saying what I already knew. “Wanna go out tonight?”
I just read 'payday' as 'partyday'. I guess the two terms are synonymous, unless you're like me and don't enjoy the party scene. At first I thought Sasha enjoyed it.
And what does Sasha already know--that it's payday? That she had a stack of bills on her kitchen table? And while we're at it, why does she have a stack of bills on her table--because it's late or because it's the first of the month?

“Where?” I asked.
“Well, Todd and I just broke up,” she said. I nodded in sympathy, even though she had already told me this six times.

Looks like Vanessa's not that bright, but what does Vanessa's answer have to do with Sasha's question?

“How about a night on the town?” I asked, not thinking about the possibility of running into Todd, or even about the stack of bills waiting to be paid or how my paycheck had hardly managed to pay those bills and for my entertainment for the past six months.
“Let’s do it,” she said.

Wow, they made a lot of plans to meet here. And why on earth would Sasha worry about running into Todd? At first I thought he'd be one of her exes, but then I said, "Nah. I'll find out."

We met at the Black Cock at eight.
Finally, something I'm happy with. Best club/bar name ever.

“Three fifty,” the usher said after checking our IDs.
Who charges three fifty to get in? Isn't it just easier to whip out a bill instead of digging through your pocket for change or making the usher find change?

“Don’t you have free admission for the ladies?” I asked, trying to save a few bucks. Vanessa glared at me.
Looks like Vanessa's dumb is rubbing off on Sasha too.

“That was last week,” he said. “On the other hand...” He glanced at my chest, then at the line forming behind us. “Oh, fuck it. Cough up, now.” We sighed and handed over our money before entering the dance club and bar.
Wow, they were quick to agree. Note to self: Never use "cough up" as an expression of money exchange.

We bought drinks first. “Vodka for me,” I said, not thinking about how much all my drinks would cost.
Aaaaand the transformation continues. I was looking forward to a feisty character, too.

“The hardest thing you’ve got,” Vanessa said.
“You just got dumped?” the barman asked sympathetically. Vanessa nodded and drank what the barman handed her in one gulp.

Either this barman is awesome or he's had way too much experience with this sort of thing. He's definitely a keeper character, probably even a good drinking buddy when I write another male MC. Waitaminute. Is this the barman who showed up in NaNo 2005? I must look into that.

Vanessa waved the cup around. “Whatever it was, it was really good. I’ll have another.” I sighed and took another sip of vodka.
That's a good question. What did she have? And why's she waving the cup around? And where'd the barman go?

I dragged Vanessa away from the bar after she had downed two drinks and I had finished my vodka. “I’m taking you to a table,” I said. “I can’t afford to call an ambulance to take you home.”
Definitely the party pooper here. Hey, it's Vanessa's fault if she does something stupid. Sure, Sasha's her friend, and she's catching the dumb too. They just can't be held responsible for each other's dumb.

“Oh, but I can,” a voice said. I turned around. A handsome man of about thirty was standing next to Vanessa.
Da-da-dummmmm. I have no idea who the man is. I just know that he's going to cause some...plot. But why's the voice saying it?
For the curious, this is even worse than my normal first drafts, and that's saying something. Granted, I usually post decent snippets, but this is, well, horrid. Since I probably won't be doing anything publish-worthy with this, it's public, even though it's fiction. Rejoice.
Tags: fiction, nanowriye, writing
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