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Tycek

Green Eyed Girl

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Tycek

As I stated before I'm working on something more seriously than a fanfic and I wanted to share part of this with you. It won't be long part (just merely three pages of Word document), but I would like to know your opinion about it. Since it's written in polish language, you don't need to paid that much attention to grammar or spelling, but I would like you to more look at the use of words and style. Criticise me to let me see my mistakes and make my Magnum Opus even better. Have fun.

 

 

 

Green Eyed Girl

 

 

 

 

Friday, 15.VIII.2025 You are my motivation

I'd be helpless if it wasn't for you”

Sandra - "Motivation"

 

 

I stood stuck to the window like damn algae eater and I looked at the city stretching out like the gigantic cat which the stubborn child is pulling by the tail, and which is sinking his claws into the carpet insistently trying to push forward. The city, but especially his west part along with its business centre full of cold aluminium and glass reflecting all desires about the wealth and the power, with managers running in the lunchtime on coffee au-latte from the paper cup and standing in the gigantic traffic jam in their official Passat eating paper rolls from fast food, continued west trying by force to adopt the west culture, customs and a lifestyle while eastern full of an old tenements and narrow connecting gates hung on tightly to the tradition. City on the clash of cultures, earlier Polish and Jewish, and now Polish and Chinese, in which the latter was almost the same as the former and in which the air had the smell mixed with Chinese spices and cheap coffee from the vending machine, moisture of old courtyards and Coco Chanel perfume.

Man - failure, I could describe myself that way, because I didn't achieved anything in my life, unless the bottom also counts. I didn't finish studies, not finding pleasure or prospects for the work, seeing friends working from 9 to 17 for sh*t wages on the junk contracts, with no chance for a loan for a car or own apartment. Not wanting to live that kind of life I had a dream that I would be a writer. Another wonderful idea, who can get to the mind of everybody who doesn't see what way his life should follow. Oh, I will write a book, somebody will publish it and I'll get a lot of cash to basket in luxury for the rest of my life. Easy to say , but usually everyone wants to start by Opus Magnum creating it and grooming until poverty pressure so hard that the work at the mall on the counter for 12 hours seems to be a godsend . Nothing worked out from the book, and working at the counter for 1500 PLN had not tempted me so much ,so for the rest of the money I opened the detective office. I have no idea what possessed me ,maybe I read too many detective stories ,but one day the idea hit me. Prices of flats on the left bank were so high that I could afford only a modest room in one of the houses in the red triangle. Previously, the area extending between the streets Ząbkowska, Kijowska and even some which names I could never remember was called the Bermuda Triangle because of the numerous disappearances caused by local color, but in 2016 the authorities have carried out a long time germinating plans to transform Prague into Arts District, ala New York SoHo.
What was quite easy to predict for everybody except politicians, artist didn't came to the renovated tenements. First, they could be counted with fingers of both hands and second times when artists had their atelier on attic or in basement passed irretrievably. In connection to the change of law from 2016 imposing a total legalization of prostitution, which again was a consequence of the changes of 2014, resulting from the crisis raging in the world, North Prague, especially the Bermuda Triangle became a haven for artists, but instead of painters and sculptors their Montmartre here found people specializing in ars amandi.
When I was opening my office not long after that I became partially by compulsion and partially by coincidence the detective for prostitutes and pimps. I won't make fortune out of this, but at least I have a job. To be honest some time passed from the last one and the savings slowly began to shrink as the dick in the cold, but I still had something to put into the mouth.
My melancholy combined with contemplation of panorama of the city was broke by delicate vibrato of the smart goggles I had on my head. They were introduced in 2013 and in 2015 most of the known electronic companies were making them. From simplistic and cheap allowing to call or send an SMS to high end models, which pushed most of the smartphones from the market, by offering most of the uses known to a man. They still couldn't do good to a man and it was a shame, because machine like that could be brilliant. Device fitting into the pocket, which could flatter where needed. It would be like in Daft Punk song real Technolodzik (almost impossible to translate. Lodzik, pronounced almost like Logic is slang term for felatio). I had a pretty good model, for which I paid horrendous sum couple of years ago, but which I really liked and which I was still using despite introduction of much newer models.
I lowered the viewer, which up to this point was resting raised a little above my forehead. The screen was flashing with little envelope with a red exclamation mark, shouting fiercely OPEN ME. Around envelope orbited sender's name - GABI. The message from her was not unusual, as she often sent them to me when she had a desire to meet, or when the client was extremely boring, but furiously red exclamation mark denoting the urgent message not augured well.
"Open the message" I told into air for the vocal control to work. On-screen two little saying sentences appeared.
"Come to me today. It is very important. "
Such contents didn't mean anything good. If Gabi heard about some work for me from one of customers would formulate text differently writing "Come to me today. There is work for you," but statement that something is important, could bring only a bad news.
The clock on the goggles screen was showing 16:27, so I could slowly start leaving as well. Nobody would come anyway and the situations that to the private investigator's shadowy office will enter desperate femme fatale offering not only a generous reward for the help, but also unfolding the prospect of the wonderful affair happened only in films with Bogart.
I turned from the window, looking swiftly over the office, checking if there was something that I may need later. In the middle of the cramped little room stood one of those flax boards, shoddy supermarket desks, swivel office chair padded with something that was intended to resemble leather, two chairs for clients that were used from the beginning by maybe three people and a small metal shelf with several binders. In addition to the above mentioned furniture there was cactus standing in a squat ceramic pot. Apparently it had little to revive the interior, but the plant shaped like a giant, green spiked dick was rather average for that job.
It turned out that I had everything that I could possibly need, so I left the office and I locked the door. I already said there was nothing worthy inside, but somebody could still decide to lend green dick and then I would have nothing living in the office.
I followed a narrow corridor, full of doors leading to premises as big as my office, rented mostly by young whores working in local brothels, with one bathroom and toilet shared by entire floor. Although the construction law did not provide for such solutions in the renovated buildings, but every law has some holes, and the corresponding sum allows you to enlarge their diameter.After passing four stories I found myself on the street, which like most in this area was a real gully with colorful walls created with clean painted houses recalling some of Amsterdam ones. Colorful and wildly flashing neon signs were inviting you to look and shop in the local sex shops or use the services of prostitutes. NUDE, SEX, PEEP SHOW, XXX, LIVE and many other passwords shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow attacking from all sides.
August this year was extremely hot, and the lack of rain for a few weeks made it even hotter. Heavy dry air was pushing with all its weight to hot sidewalks. Ideally the blue sky was free from even the smallest cloud that could for a moment obscured the sharply operating sun. People trying to save themselves from the heat glided in the shade created by the walls of houses , running through spaces exposed to the mercy of the sun. What some believed to be a real disaster, had its good side.Young girls and women wore less and less obscuring clothes, and some even proceeded to expose breasts or buttocks, to the delight of the male part of the population and the scandal of pensioners and other defenders of morality. This was probably related to the pseudo - freedom due to the openness in relation to sex and drugs. A sudden change in their environment caused certain behaviors that are normally found to be too outrageous, but in circumstances where people bought drugs as pills for headaches, and using the services of prostitutes was quite normal behavior, showing breast and ass seemed to be a simple play.
------------------------------
I will be dropping more when I translate it.

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Ziggy455

Tom-Hanks-Preparing-to-type.gif

 

I just gave this a read through and -grammar and spelling critique omitted- really quite liked it. Character-wise, he's very bitter, and quite obviously shows no pride in the dilapidated habitation he has come to call his home and his workplace. The whole thing was a little strong on the metaphors. You came off kind of like a Polski Raymond Chandler, which in all honesty I think is awesome.

 

It all feels a little hard-boiled but not generic, because it's your own spin, on your own culture which gives a fresh perspective, and the setting, 2025? On the cusp of technological breakthroughs gives this sort of a gritty, sci-fi sort of feel but with something a little extra? I don't know know what but as for three pages you've given us a lot more on SoHo and the decrepitudes of the place and less on the character which is not a problem, it's an advantage, because I want to read more and know what direction you'll take the story.

 

I guess overall if you toned down the metaphors a little it'd make the whole thing feel a little less bitter, but then, of course, that's exactly what you were going for, wasn't it?

 

I won't bother with the spelling and grammar because of the translation but take what you will from what I've said. It seems a solid start, and makes me want to keep going so you've done something right.

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Mokrie Dela

Well credit to Ziggy on that one. The language barrier is a tricky thing to get past, and my hat is off to you Ty because you write in english a lot (and to be honest, do it better than many english people I know!)

 

But to be honest, the language translation can be a problem at times, and in some cases it is here. You're conveying the scene well, as Ziggy pointed out, but I'm not sure what feedback I can offer personally - I can't correct spelling and grammar that is most likely down to the translation software, or process. I can't go into too much detail about some of the language either because, to be blunt, I could tell you "Drop this" or "change that" and, while it might be an improvement in english, taking that advice while writing in polish could be a terrible mistake.

 

Example: the word "the" - Am i correct in saying that the polish language doesn't use this before things much? Example:

 

In english, one would say "I am going to the shop." But I have heard a polish person, speaking english, say "I am going to shop." If i told you that, in english you should include "the", that's fine. But if you did it in polish, i doubt that would make much sense....

 

that'd be like me writing in polish and you saying "delete the word "the" because we don't use it in that situation" - if i did that in english, that'd be wrong. (again, this is where credit is due to anyone who can speak and write and read both!)

 

So for my usual words of advice, I am not sure what I can offer on this piece, and I'd rather offer nothing than give bad advice. Ziggs did well in avoiding the pitfall of corrections in this instance,

 

the one thing i can offer though, is that i found many of your sentences too long. Especially the first sentence. Ideally, i think, it should be short and snappy. You did well to start with the character though - put the focus where you want it from the off.

But I'd break the sentences up a little. Think of it as you reading out loud - you would run out of breath. A full stop is a "breathing" point. The first sentence can sell the entire story to your reader if you do it right.

Example of how it doesn't work: "The day started like no other and I got up as i always did, having breakfast and walking out of the door, getting in my car and driving through the roads to work where i would be spending my day behind a desk, staring at a computer screen."
This tells us nothing. No excitement, no statement, just some guy talking... YAWN.

Example (that you'll love!) of how a story starts and grabs you straight away:

"War. War never changes."

Then the narration continues as usual, but that first opening statement can be important. You want your readers breathless because they're reading the action and exciting parts, not because they're in a long opening sentence!

I really loved the part about failure though (to paraphrase: I've achieved nothing - unless hitting rock bottom counts), and the "algae eater" bit. Some nice imagery here, and as Ziggy said, there's a definite bitterness here - almost a disdain.

 

Also if you're talking about chinese spices, thing of this: what do chinese spices smell like? describe them?

 

That strange, menthol-ish smell that they have? That's Star Anise (aniseed, almost), one of chinese's famous "five spices". They cook in a lot of soy sauce too. In fact chinese food will, most of the time, have one of (if not all) the following:

Garlic, ginger, fivespice, soy sauce. The point I'm making is i think it's better to be specific at times (unless you're deliberately trying to be vauge).
Say "the cold touch of steel on his skin" instead of "the touch of metal on his skin" for example.

 

Other than that, I can't really see too much wrong (not that I can go too much into it!)

 

 

My best advice here would be to seek out a polish-speaking writer (are you still lucky enough to be at the educational age? If so check with a uni lecturer or seek out a friend who knows about writing - they can help more than I can, because they can look at your actual writing - translating it is almost like telling it to your friend, who tells it to his friend, who tells it to his friend.... Chinese whispers, funnily enough.

 

"Purple Monkey Dishwasher"/"Bitch on a pension, suck my dong" (TV/film references)

Edited by Mokrie Dela

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Tycek

Doing the thing you said and finding some polish writer willing to look at it, would be probably the best way to handle things, but I'm not really sure if I would have someone like this. That's why I'm dropping it here. I am fully aware that translation will kill some of the language, but I mostly value your advices about the mindwork here. Still little advice is much better than no advice at all, so I will definitely drop something more to see your opinion on it.

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Mokrie Dela

That's understandable Ty. A polish speaker will help but yeah, I don't have access to english speaking tutors or teachers myself so i understand that.

Yeah, drop some more here and we'll do our best.

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Tycek

Okay, another part picking exactly where the previous one left aka next three pages from word.

 

 

 

I was just passed by two chicks, maybe twenty years old in type "God, can you see and not thunder them?" (it comes from polish saying, in which word "grzmisz" meaning to thunder was changed to grzmocisz, which can be roughly translated as to screw) dressed in short tight-fitting cotton shorts on firm buttocks and nipple stickers in the shape of hearts at one of them and a bra so small that it would not be enough to make handkerchief to Thumbelina on the other. I turned my head to contemplate a smooth, almost cat-like movements of their young bodies, to which they responded with suppressed chuckle.
After a few minutes I got to the building, which housed one of the best brothels in Warsaw, with an intriguing name of Gold Rose, where Gabi was working and where I spent a lot of time. I pressed a small brass doorknob and walked into the sumptuous hall. The floor was covered with a thick carpet, which was damping every step, and the walls were lined with dark wood giving the interior a pleasant and cozy atmosphere, like the gentlemen's club. Some unspecified music fitting the interior and not disturbing other matters was flowing from the speakers. On one of the fluffy chairs standing against the wall was occupied by a customer waiting for service, but except him it was completely empty. There was still some time to five o'clock , so all yuppies from the left bank of the river were still sitting in the offices. There will be 18 or 19 o'clock before they got through the congested bridges, so I could enjoy the lack of crowds both in the lobby as well as at Gabi.
The front desk lady was Barbara, about fifty years old, neat, slim woman who once worked as a prostitute, and now after the change in legislation took the possession of the Golden Rose. Thanks to her excellent memory for faces, approach to customers and knowledge of the industry from both sides, she was widely respected and liked in the Red Triangle.
"Good morning, Miss Barbara. What's new?" I asked with a smile walking up to the counter.
"Good day Mr Eddie, everything's good. Again to Gabi?"
Barbara knew probably tastes of all customers. God knows how she did that. Did she kept some kind of notepad in which she was writing down customers and their preferences: "Mr Eddie - Gabi, Oral twice a week, Classic once, No S&M" or simply remembered, but the truth was if you were there at least 3 times and picking the favorite woman, for the fourth time Barbara already knew who you are and who did you come to.
"Well you know me, Miss Barbara. One hour,please," I said pulling the identification card, which combined the ID card, driving license, bank card or ticket to the subway out of my shirt pocket.
"You have to wait a while. Gabi has a customer. She will be free at 17."
I turned and looked at the classic clock on the wall. It was 16.42.
"No problem .It's always worth it," I smiled.
"You're a comedian , Mr. Eddie," she said, handing me a terminal to which I put my card. The device bleeped with affirmation and fifty euros escaped from my account. Hour with Gabi was worth all the money . Once I had all the time for free, but my crazy ideas and general lack of maturity meant that Gabi decided to go her own way trying her luck in the general show business, ending finally in entertainment in the Red Triangle. The whole time we kept contact, so I knew where to look. A few years later I opened my office nearby, so we could meet more often during working hours or after.
"Thank you," I said, tucking in the card."You're also super, Miss Barbara."
We both laughed heartily.
"Why don't you sit over there. Read some newspaper, Mr. Eddie," Miss Barbara suggested looking toward the seats between which stood a small wooden table, the top of which was littered with all kinds newspapers from the opinion-forming weeklies to professional monthlies. Ever since smarts with a constant connection to the Internet came to common use, newspapers slowly becoming forgotten, however, several major publishers still were making small numbers, to keep the traditions and leave something for the people who didn't like smarts of were too poor to afford them. Also try to wipe the your ass with a smarts in the bathroom, smart-ass.
I sat down on a chair collapsing in a soft suede pillow. Despite the fact of having smarts that all the time were sitting on my head , I took one of the newspapers from the table. "ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE KIDNAPPERS. BLACK SERIES STILL IN PROGRESS." One of the scourges that plagued the country for some time. Young women and girls were disappearing from the streets of larger cities and nothing really was coming out of it. No one wanted any ransoms, no one didn't contact their families. Police crossed their hands, not knowing where to put them, because there was virtually no witnesses, and surveillance systems covered the cities so poorly that it was hard to get some good photos. Those, which were, always showed different car without license plates pulling up to the future victim. And these were various, blondes, brunettes, redheads, high and low, slim and not, white and yellow. Practically the entire cross-section of possibilities appearance among women aged between 16-28. Lack of common features of appearance and origin made the investigation stuck at a standstill for quite a few years, in which at least 185 girls and women went missing.
An article in the newspaper was in accordance to norm with a fairly tendentious, accusing the police of idleness and warning the young women about walking alone through the empty streets. As the main perpetrators the authors of the article pointed at local gangs or triads, which were developing in major cities along with the influx of the chinese people. There was nothing that I hadn't heard on television, radio or seen on the internet.
I finished the paper and began to fold it to put it on the table when I saw on the stairs out some rich looking guy with a gold Cartier on his left hand wrist, still improving crooked knotted tie. Behind him on the top of the stairs appeared Gabi, dressed in a black silk nightgown ending just with her ass, and smiled seeing me. I returned the smile and walked up the stairs leading straight to heaven.
"Hi, honey," Gabi said tenderly and kissed me on the cheek.
"Hi, my dear," I replied as tenderly and pinched her firm buttocks, to which she jumped and screamed in surprise.
We went down the hall decorated in the same way as the rest of the building, directly to her place of work, which was a quite a big room located at the end of the corridor. Each of residents of the public house had its own, permanently assigned room, the bigger and better the higher up in the hierarchy a courtesan was standing. Gabi's
room was one of the largest and had a window overlooking the yard - well and the surrounding walls and glass houses and skyscrapers sprouting on the left side of the river and towering over the roofs of low buildings . The decor also depended only on the personal taste of the owner, so Gabi made it to resemble our old bedroom. Light heather walls played well with long-haired dark purple carpet, white leather sofa and white bed linen with heather cover made from satin. The bright colors also made great background for Gabi dressed in black gown, tight fitted over her tanned body with a figure of a teenager and movement of wild panther. Her naturally brown hair were running down her slender arms and encircled pretty face with a slightly upturned nose, forever lightly smiling lips and wonderfully green eyes. I loved those eyes , always happy and always looking curiously at the world. Some small wrinkles appeared around them, but the innate brilliance remained.
The whole picture of Gabi in room furnished in such way, reminded me of what passed, what I lost, but also which was great. Those nights when we had sex until dawn, then we were smoking joints and slept for two days. Nights full of carefree and passion during which the man forgot about the world around him.I asked her once about the decor of the room and got the answer that it reminds her of the great moments of the past, what excites her even more. She only took the best memories while I took all of them.
-----------
Have fun.
Edited by Tycek

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Mokrie Dela

Tom-Hanks-Preparing-to-type.gif

Let's see what I can offer.....

 

 

Okay, another part picking exactly where the previous one left aka next three pages from word.

 

 

 

I was just passed by two chicks, maybe twenty years old in type "God, can you see and not thunder them?" (it comes from polish saying, in which word "grzmisz" meaning to thunder was changed to grzmocisz, which can be roughly translated as to screw) dressed in short tight-fitting cotton shorts on firm buttocks and nipple stickers in the shape of hearts at one of them and a bra so small that it would not be enough to make handkerchief to Thumbelina on the other. This is a long sentence. I'm slightlly lost by the apparent speech - is it speech or internal monologue? If speech, I'm sure you know that a new speaker is always on a new line; makes it easier to read and breaks up the paragraphs from a "wall of text" to something more eye-pleasing. Thanks for the explanation. I am going to start using "thunder" to mean "have sex with" from now on! "Hey honey, I'm going to thunder you tonight." I wonder how my gal will react....
I shall assume that it's internal monologue (inner thoughts) for now, as it would appear to make more sense. In this case, perhaps it would be beneficial to separate your character's thoughts from the narration, putting the thoughts in italics - a common practice in most modern novels.
"Yes," Dave said, nodding enthusiastically at his boss. You're an asshole.
See what I mean?
Now for breaking up the sentence:
Again there might be a language difference here (i know some languages can say in one word what English takes three to say or vice versa). After the speech/thought is a perfect place for a full stop: "God, can you see and not thunder the? They were dressed in...." I often say to people think of a full stop as a breath - read that sentence out loud and you'll run out of breath. Commas and full stops break it up. I'm not sure why you mention nipple stickers; are these girls topless? It doesn't seem to add much in my eyes, except, perhaps, to show them as sluts - prostitutes maybe? Strippers?
Here is how I would re-write it (apologies if the rewrite creates a linguistic rift!):
I was passed by two chicks, maybe twenty years old. God, can you see and not thunder them? Tiny, tight-fitting cotton shorts sat on firm buttocks. Heart-shaped nipple-stickers covered little on one of them and on the other a bra so small it would not be enough to make a handkerchief for Thumbelina. I turned my head, appreciating the smooth, cat-like movements of their young bodies. They responded with a suppressed chuckle.
Breaking it up will help the flow a lot as well as strengthen your description. In long-winded sentences, often details can be lost. Example - only in rewriting it did I realize that one was wearing a bra and the other nipple-stickers. Breaking it up is like taking bites of a nice dinner, instead of shoving it all in at once.
I liked the description of the girls though. I'm a very hot-blooded guy, and can't help but check out the girls when I'm out and about. The description felt very authentic to me - a little extreme on how little they were wearing perhaps, but I guess that's your intention. "Smooth, cat-like" - i liked that, not for the literal meaning (meow) but for the subtler metaphor (agile and flexible). You didn't overdo it either; you didn't allow yourself to get bogged down in some of the details (i did that once, and a legitimate emotional scene ended up as an erotica scene... :sui: ).
I turned my head to contemplate a smooth, almost cat-like movements of their young bodies, to which they responded with suppressed chuckle.
After a few minutes I got to the building, which housed one of the best brothels in Warsaw, with an intriguing name of Gold Rose, where Gabi was working and where I spent a lot of time. Firstly here, "I got to the building, which housed one of the brothels in Warsaw" - I almost said to go straight in and say "I got to the brothel" but I kind of like the delayed explanation. However, all of a sudden there's "The building". It's just there. Was it not there before? Had these two girls exited that building (perhaps editing the first line from "I was passed by two girls" to "Two girls exited a well-lit building ahead of me and walked past me with a seductive sway of their hips." - that way you're tying the building in with the events - it's not a sudden appearance, but instead feels like it was always there, like the character was always heading to it...
Why is the name "Gold Rose" intriguing btw? To me it sounds pretty standard. I'd like to see what's so intriguing about it.
I pressed a small brass doorknob and walked into the sumptuous hall. The floor was covered with a thick carpet, which was damping every step, and the walls were lined with dark wood giving the interior a pleasant and cozy atmosphere, like the gentlemen's club. Some unspecified music fitting the interior and not disturbing other matters was flowing from the speakers. On one of the fluffy chairs standing against the wall was occupied by a customer waiting for service, but except him it was completely empty. This last sentence needs some work. "On one of the fluffy chairs standing against the wall was occupied - " get rid of the "on" (this might make sense in polish, so if it does, disregard what I'm saying!). You'd say "One of the chairs was occupied by" or "On one of the chairs was". Then there's the completely pointless "Except him it was completely empty." Except for the money in my bank, I'm broke. Except for the sunshine, it's dark. It's a contradiction that adds nothing to your work, and if anything takes it away. ditch that bit completely.
There was still some time to five o'clock , so all yuppies from the left bank of the river were still sitting in the offices. There will be 18 or 19 o'clock before they got through the congested bridges, so I could enjoy the lack of crowds both in the lobby as well as at Gabi. Two things here. Firstly "There was still some time to five o clock" okay, it's not 5PM yet. Just say that. "It was not yet 5 o'clock." Secondly, you say Five o'clock (well done for spelling five and not 5), but then you switch to the 24hr clock. Try to stick with one or the other - is it five o'clock, or 1700 hours? six or seven o'clock, or 18- or 1900 hours? Bare in mind (here at least) we say either five o'clock or 1700 hours. We don't say 1700 o'clock. Now which you chose is up to you. five o'clock looks better written down than 1700 hours - which sounds too stern, like an army drill Sergent. five o'clock sounds softer, more casual, less urgent or less precise. You also avoid the dilemma of writing "1700 hours" or "seventeen-hundred hours" - i don't much like seeing numerals in prose, but in the latter example, spelling it out just looks weird. I say stick to the "o'clock" system.
The front desk lady was Barbara, about fifty years old, [there should be an "a" here, but again that might be a language barrier thing] neat, slim woman who once worked as a prostitute, and now after the change in legislation took the possession of the Golden Rose. Thanks to her excellent memory for faces, approach to customers and knowledge of the industry from both sides, she was widely respected and liked in the Red Triangle.
"Good morning, Miss Barbara. What's new?" I asked with a smile walking up to the counter.
"Good day Mr Eddie, everything's good. Again to Gabi?"
Barbara knew probably tastes of all customers. God knows how she did that. Did she kept [keep, not kept] some kind of notepad in which she was writing down customers and their preferences: "Mr Eddie - Gabi, Oral twice a week, Classic once, No S&M" or simply remembered, but the truth was if you were there at least 3 times and picking the favorite woman, for the fourth time Barbara already knew who you are and who did you come to.
"Well you know me, Miss Barbara. One hour,[you're missing a space here!]please," I said pulling the identification card, which combined the ID card, driving license, bank card or ticket to the subway out of my shirt pocket. Break this last bit up (or consider dropping details) - -I said, pulling the identification card from my pocket. [You could probably leave it at that] It combined my driving license, bank card and subway ticket.
"You have to wait a while. Gabi has a customer. She will be free at 17." - again "at five" would be better. Unless, of course, your time system is different to how it is here, I've never heard anyone say "at 17" or even "at 1700". I think the USA say that more but here it's just easier to say "at five". This time, however, you've used numerals... :(
I turned and looked at the classic clock on the wall. It was 16.42. Two things: "classic" clock? That tells me it's one with hands. That usually is synonymous with "o'clock" not "16:42" - "16:42" makes me think of a digital LCD clock. Make sure you have consistency, and consider what the reader might infer as well as what you imply. I like the specific of "16:42" but with a "classic" clock, I've never said that, i'll always say "almost quarter to"
"No problem .It's always worth it," I smiled. Slightly misplaced full stop after "problem"! (And again after comedian next)
"You're a comedian , Mr. Eddie," she said, handing me a terminal to which I put my card. The device bleeped with affirmation and fifty euros escaped from my account. [Nice, i liked the personification here] Hour with Gabi was worth all the money . Once I had all the time for free, but my crazy ideas and general lack of maturity meant that Gabi decided to go her own way trying her luck in the general show business, ending finally in entertainment in the Red Triangle. [OOH! there's history here! Nicely done; subtle. I like it. Former lovers?] The whole time we kept contact, so I knew where to look. A few years later I opened my office nearby, so we could meet more often during working hours or after.
"Thank you," I said, tucking in the card."You're also super, Miss Barbara."
We both laughed heartily.
"Why don't you sit over there. [What are you missing here Ty? What should be here instead of a full stop? Yup, that's right, a question mark!] Read some newspaper, Mr. Eddie," Miss Barbara suggested looking toward the seats between which stood a small wooden table, the top of which was littered with all kinds newspapers from the opinion-forming weeklies to professional monthlies. Ever since smarts [do you mean smartphones?] with a constant connection to the Internet came to common use, newspapers slowly becoming forgotten, however, several major publishers still were making small numbers, to keep the traditions and leave something for the people who didn't like smarts of were too poor to afford them. Also try to wipe the your ass with a smarts in the bathroom, smart-ass. [Haha!]
I sat down on a chair collapsing in a soft suede pillow. Despite the fact of having smarts that all the time were sitting on my head , I took one of the newspapers from the table. "ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE KIDNAPPERS. BLACK SERIES STILL IN PROGRESS." Personally, I'd have the headline on a new line here, and not all in capitals - i don't like seeing that. Italics perhaps, or maybe just changing the formatting for that one line to centre (the rest of this is aligned left) - that would be enough to separate it. One of the scourges that plagued the country for some time. Young women and girls were disappearing from the streets of larger cities and nothing really was coming out of it. No one wanted any ransoms, no one didn't contact their families. Police crossed their hands, not knowing where to put them, because there was virtually no witnesses, and surveillance systems covered the cities so poorly that it was hard to get some good photos. Those, which were, always showed different car without license plates pulling up to the future victim. And these were various, blondes, brunettes, redheads, high and low, slim and not, white and yellow. Practically the entire cross-section of possibilities appearance among women aged between 16-28. Lack of common features of appearance and origin made the investigation stuck at a standstill for quite a few years, in which at least 185 girls and women went missing.

I'm actually going to have to leave it there for now - I'm out of time! I'll carry on when i can though.

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Tycek

 

Okay, another part picking exactly where the previous one left aka next three pages from word.

 

 

 

I was just passed by two chicks, maybe twenty years old in type "God, can you see and not thunder them?" (it comes from polish saying, in which word "grzmisz" meaning to thunder was changed to grzmocisz, which can be roughly translated as to screw) dressed in short tight-fitting cotton shorts on firm buttocks and nipple stickers in the shape of hearts at one of them and a bra so small that it would not be enough to make handkerchief to Thumbelina on the other. This is a long sentence. I'm slightlly lost by the apparent speech - is it speech or internal monologue? If speech, I'm sure you know that a new speaker is always on a new line; makes it easier to read and breaks up the paragraphs from a "wall of text" to something more eye-pleasing. Thanks for the explanation. I am going to start using "thunder" to mean "have sex with" from now on! "Hey honey, I'm going to thunder you tonight." I wonder how my gal will react....
I shall assume that it's internal monologue (inner thoughts) for now, as it would appear to make more sense. In this case, perhaps it would be beneficial to separate your character's thoughts from the narration, putting the thoughts in italics - a common practice in most modern novels.
"Yes," Dave said, nodding enthusiastically at his boss. You're an asshole.
See what I mean?
Now for breaking up the sentence:
Again there might be a language difference here (i know some languages can say in one word what English takes three to say or vice versa). After the speech/thought is a perfect place for a full stop: "God, can you see and not thunder the? They were dressed in...." I often say to people think of a full stop as a breath - read that sentence out loud and you'll run out of breath. Commas and full stops break it up. I'm not sure why you mention nipple stickers; are these girls topless? It doesn't seem to add much in my eyes, except, perhaps, to show them as sluts - prostitutes maybe? Strippers?
Here is how I would re-write it (apologies if the rewrite creates a linguistic rift!):
I was passed by two chicks, maybe twenty years old. God, can you see and not thunder them? Tiny, tight-fitting cotton shorts sat on firm buttocks. Heart-shaped nipple-stickers covered little on one of them and on the other a bra so small it would not be enough to make a handkerchief for Thumbelina. I turned my head, appreciating the smooth, cat-like movements of their young bodies. They responded with a suppressed chuckle.
Breaking it up will help the flow a lot as well as strengthen your description. In long-winded sentences, often details can be lost. Example - only in rewriting it did I realize that one was wearing a bra and the other nipple-stickers. Breaking it up is like taking bites of a nice dinner, instead of shoving it all in at once.
I liked the description of the girls though. I'm a very hot-blooded guy, and can't help but check out the girls when I'm out and about. The description felt very authentic to me - a little extreme on how little they were wearing perhaps, but I guess that's your intention. "Smooth, cat-like" - i liked that, not for the literal meaning (meow) but for the subtler metaphor (agile and flexible). You didn't overdo it either; you didn't allow yourself to get bogged down in some of the details (i did that once, and a legitimate emotional scene ended up as an erotica scene... :sui: ).
I turned my head to contemplate a smooth, almost cat-like movements of their young bodies, to which they responded with suppressed chuckle.
After a few minutes I got to the building, which housed one of the best brothels in Warsaw, with an intriguing name of Gold Rose, where Gabi was working and where I spent a lot of time. Firstly here, "I got to the building, which housed one of the brothels in Warsaw" - I almost said to go straight in and say "I got to the brothel" but I kind of like the delayed explanation. However, all of a sudden there's "The building". It's just there. Was it not there before? Had these two girls exited that building (perhaps editing the first line from "I was passed by two girls" to "Two girls exited a well-lit building ahead of me and walked past me with a seductive sway of their hips." - that way you're tying the building in with the events - it's not a sudden appearance, but instead feels like it was always there, like the character was always heading to it...
Why is the name "Gold Rose" intriguing btw? To me it sounds pretty standard. I'd like to see what's so intriguing about it.
About the name google: Cutting the rose, although it may be a bit too harsh for a name. Also it seems it doesn't work well without explanation. I need to think about some better and more romantic name for business like that. And about the building should I wrote it more into the street?
I pressed a small brass doorknob and walked into the sumptuous hall. The floor was covered with a thick carpet, which was damping every step, and the walls were lined with dark wood giving the interior a pleasant and cozy atmosphere, like the gentlemen's club. Some unspecified music fitting the interior and not disturbing other matters was flowing from the speakers. On one of the fluffy chairs standing against the wall was occupied by a customer waiting for service, but except him it was completely empty. This last sentence needs some work. "On one of the fluffy chairs standing against the wall was occupied - " get rid of the "on" (this might make sense in polish, so if it does, disregard what I'm saying!). You'd say "One of the chairs was occupied by" or "On one of the chairs was". Then there's the completely pointless "Except him it was completely empty." Except for the money in my bank, I'm broke. Except for the sunshine, it's dark. It's a contradiction that adds nothing to your work, and if anything takes it away. ditch that bit completely.
That was simply grammar mistake. I wanted to write the sentence differently then I changed it. Part of the old one unfortunately stayed. Point about that guy taken.
There was still some time to five o'clock , so all yuppies from the left bank of the river were still sitting in the offices. There will be 18 or 19 o'clock before they got through the congested bridges, so I could enjoy the lack of crowds both in the lobby as well as at Gabi. Two things here. Firstly "There was still some time to five o clock" okay, it's not 5PM yet. Just say that. "It was not yet 5 o'clock." Secondly, you say Five o'clock (well done for spelling five and not 5), but then you switch to the 24hr clock. Try to stick with one or the other - is it five o'clock, or 1700 hours? six or seven o'clock, or 18- or 1900 hours? Bare in mind (here at least) we say either five o'clock or 1700 hours. We don't say 1700 o'clock. Now which you chose is up to you. five o'clock looks better written down than 1700 hours - which sounds too stern, like an army drill Sergent. five o'clock sounds softer, more casual, less urgent or less precise. You also avoid the dilemma of writing "1700 hours" or "seventeen-hundred hours" - i don't much like seeing numerals in prose, but in the latter example, spelling it out just looks weird. I say stick to the "o'clock" system.
Point taken
The front desk lady was Barbara, about fifty years old, [there should be an "a" here, but again that might be a language barrier thing] neat, slim woman who once worked as a prostitute, and now after the change in legislation took the possession of the Golden Rose. Thanks to her excellent memory for faces, approach to customers and knowledge of the industry from both sides, she was widely respected and liked in the Red Triangle.
"Good morning, Miss Barbara. What's new?" I asked with a smile walking up to the counter.
"Good day Mr Eddie, everything's good. Again to Gabi?"
Barbara knew probably tastes of all customers. God knows how she did that. Did she kept [keep, not kept] some kind of notepad in which she was writing down customers and their preferences: "Mr Eddie - Gabi, Oral twice a week, Classic once, No S&M" or simply remembered, but the truth was if you were there at least 3 times and picking the favorite woman, for the fourth time Barbara already knew who you are and who did you come to.
"Well you know me, Miss Barbara. One hour,[you're missing a space here!]please," I said pulling the identification card, which combined the ID card, driving license, bank card or ticket to the subway out of my shirt pocket. Break this last bit up (or consider dropping details) - -I said, pulling the identification card from my pocket. [You could probably leave it at that] It combined my driving license, bank card and subway ticket.
"You have to wait a while. Gabi has a customer. She will be free at 17." - again "at five" would be better. Unless, of course, your time system is different to how it is here, I've never heard anyone say "at 17" or even "at 1700". I think the USA say that more but here it's just easier to say "at five". This time, however, you've used numerals... :(
I turned and looked at the classic clock on the wall. It was 16.42. Two things: "classic" clock? That tells me it's one with hands. That usually is synonymous with "o'clock" not "16:42" - "16:42" makes me think of a digital LCD clock. Make sure you have consistency, and consider what the reader might infer as well as what you imply. I like the specific of "16:42" but with a "classic" clock, I've never said that, i'll always say "almost quarter to"
Point taken
"No problem .It's always worth it," I smiled. Slightly misplaced full stop after "problem"! (And again after comedian next)
"You're a comedian , Mr. Eddie," she said, handing me a terminal to which I put my card. The device bleeped with affirmation and fifty euros escaped from my account. [Nice, i liked the personification here] Hour with Gabi was worth all the money . Once I had all the time for free, but my crazy ideas and general lack of maturity meant that Gabi decided to go her own way trying her luck in the general show business, ending finally in entertainment in the Red Triangle. [OOH! there's history here! Nicely done; subtle. I like it. Former lovers?] The whole time we kept contact, so I knew where to look. A few years later I opened my office nearby, so we could meet more often during working hours or after.
"Thank you," I said, tucking in the card."You're also super, Miss Barbara."
We both laughed heartily.
"Why don't you sit over there. [What are you missing here Ty? What should be here instead of a full stop? Yup, that's right, a question mark!] Read some newspaper, Mr. Eddie," Miss Barbara suggested looking toward the seats between which stood a small wooden table, the top of which was littered with all kinds newspapers from the opinion-forming weeklies to professional monthlies. Ever since smarts [do you mean smartphones?] with a constant connection to the Internet came to common use, newspapers slowly becoming forgotten, however, several major publishers still were making small numbers, to keep the traditions and leave something for the people who didn't like smarts of were too poor to afford them. Also try to wipe the your ass with a smarts in the bathroom, smart-ass. [Haha!]
Smarts were explained before if I recall correctly. Basically it's something like mix of google glasses and today smartphones. Imagine a smartphone you can carry on your head, which is control with your voice and which allows you to do your daily business with free hands.
I sat down on a chair collapsing in a soft suede pillow. Despite the fact of having smarts that all the time were sitting on my head , I took one of the newspapers from the table. "ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE KIDNAPPERS. BLACK SERIES STILL IN PROGRESS." Personally, I'd have the headline on a new line here, and not all in capitals - i don't like seeing that. Italics perhaps, or maybe just changing the formatting for that one line to centre (the rest of this is aligned left) - that would be enough to separate it. One of the scourges that plagued the country for some time. Young women and girls were disappearing from the streets of larger cities and nothing really was coming out of it. No one wanted any ransoms, no one didn't contact their families. Police crossed their hands, not knowing where to put them, because there was virtually no witnesses, and surveillance systems covered the cities so poorly that it was hard to get some good photos. Those, which were, always showed different car without license plates pulling up to the future victim. And these were various, blondes, brunettes, redheads, high and low, slim and not, white and yellow. Practically the entire cross-section of possibilities appearance among women aged between 16-28. Lack of common features of appearance and origin made the investigation stuck at a standstill for quite a few years, in which at least 185 girls and women went missing.

I'm actually going to have to leave it there for now - I'm out of time! I'll carry on when i can though.

 

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Mokrie Dela

Cutting the rose: wtf? just why!? I see the reference, but even with something that subtle, you have to consider what you're implying. Now i know it, I'm confused why you'd want that association. So far the brothel sounds like a normal one, even a nice place in a way. With the "cutting the rose" thing, i'm getting a conflicting thought; instead is it a sick, fetishistic BDSM club? Brothels can have floral names, - take Assassins Creed: Brotherhood - "Rosa in Fiore" (sp?) - meaning "Blooming Rose" - which is apt for a classy establishment. Cutting the Rose instead implies a dark, twisted, sick, horrid place. Was that your intention?

 

Consider the saying "What's in a name?" Everything. Names are important, especially when they carry meaning (Altair in AC for example).

 

 

RE: Smarts - yes, you are correct. I had forgotten about that. Capitalise the "Smarts" if you're using it as a name eg: Tycek, not tycek. Pontiac, not pontiac. That way it's also making it clear it's a brandname for those silly people that forgot! :p

 

 

I also think i'd forgotten to add that there is still a good sense of atmosphere here. The more i read, the more I'm getting used to the language thing, and it's becoming less of a problem. I think I'll try to read this all again sometimes and see if i can provide any more tips...

Edited by Mokrie Dela

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Tycek

My thinking was a bit different. In cutting the rose (let's leave the whole process alone) it's obvious that the name rose goes to clitoris (I believe that's the correct name), so I took it as that. We know how roses are, nice, sweet flowers being synonymous to beauty and calling particular women's part with the same name gives it a new broader meaning. Also the rose supposed to be Golden (again, mistake), but have you ever seen this flower in such color, not to mention this particular part of women's way to Eden? Golden is also another word with greater meaning. So it was natural for me to come up with such a name, but maybe it wasn't that good idea. I can always think of something better.

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Mokrie Dela

Not the clitoris, but the entire thing, i think. I can definitely see the similarities between roses and women's Labias. "Golden Rose" I think is actually a really nice name - Golden Roses are real, and are actually yellow but lovely nonetheless.

 

TBH The Gold Rose or Golden Rose works fine. It's a much nicer name than "Flapping Fanny's" or "Prized Pussies" or that. It's classy and, although a little uncreative and almost cliched (I've head Rose used for female genitals and brothels a lot), if you like it, it'll do. TBH now I've thought about it more, I actually like it. Sure you could spend hours thinking of a witty and clever name, but "Golden Rose" (or "Velvet Rose" - that would be very obvious :D) does the job well.

 

Don't worry about that. It's a decent name, but I found nothing "intriguing" about it. A rose is a beautiful flower and a classy metaphor for a vagina. Nothing else curious about it imo.

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Tycek

Ok, then first idea is very often the best one. I will change the description from intriguing into something else or drop that word completely.

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Mokrie Dela

just remember with things like this, if you say something's interesting or intriguing, or exciting, or anything like that, you need to know why it is. It can be intriguing if you wish, but if so you need to make the reader feel that intrigue.

 

In this instance, the protagonist is already familiar with the brother, so he'd know it to begin with (so you could not describe the building without us knowing what it is, which could be intriguing). As he's familiar with it, he'd know it and thus not have any intrigue over it. Hope that makes sense.

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