Edit: good writing misses chances for stronger storytelling.

Amber sent a sample for an edit, and I post it here with her permission. I liked the mood she set and the voice of her character, but there are a number of opportunities for both tightening and expanding the narrative. Things I added are in red and comments are green. Please keep in mind that all any editor can offer is opinion that is necessarily subjective -- my cuts, additions, and comments are suggestions, not facts, to be used or discarded by the writer.

There's something there. (good, suspenseful opening line)

Something in the back of the brain that decides which way we'll go in the scheme of things. I guess we don't know, not consciously anyway, which way we will go until that exact moment when that little synapse goes "ping" and we say either yes or no. There's no turning back after that. No turning back at all. (for me, this was disappointing after the opening line. Maybe wouldn't have been if not in a separate paragraph. But the opener led [misled?] me to expect some thing that created jeopardy for the narrator, and this philosophical aside isn't enough to satisfy me.)

Sitting there, I realized I wasn't going to say no this time. (I think you've missed a vital opportunity to set the scene in a provocative way. For example: Sitting there, at a table in the toughest bar in the Quarter with the toughest guys in the whole fucking town, I realized I wasn't going to say no this time.) There was no way for me to say no. It was either I go with them, or I end up being somea statistic onin a crime poll. On top of that, though, I didn't really want to say no. Temptation, the temptation that had been there since I saw my first gangster film, wouldn't let me say no. That respect, that power that these guys get in the town. (My feeling is that the use of "that" in the first two instances instead of "the" makes this fragment harder to understand, and it creates too many repetitions of the word. Suggest: The respect, the power…etc.) And they wanted me to join in thistheir crew. Me. SomeA dumbass ex junkie who has really good luck at not getting caught. (for me, this is a much better opening paragraph. I'd cut the first two paragraphs altogether.)

Of course, I played it up to them that I actually had a grasp of the scheme of things, not that so far , it had all been just blind luck. In a way, I did know what the fuck I was doing, but Fortune had smiled on me more times than not. Just the fact that I had made it this far through this meeting alive proved that. (good suspense building)

"So, what you're saying is , is that it's a straight, six-man operation, in and out in under five minutes, during operating hours,. "  I said, finally getting enough balls to do more than nod my head at these guys. (the reference to "balls" might work if we knew up front that the narrator is female. As it is, the following reference to "girlie" confused me. I had to stop and think about it, and you don't want a reader doing that.) I took a long drag off my cigarette, trying to let reality set in.

"Yeah, girlie. It's a straight-up deal. In and out, no fucking around. You think you're up for it?"  Tthe head guy said, looking straight through me, it seemed. He's trying to shake me, to see if I'll break and run. (couple of things: for me, I'd like to know who's talking before the speech. Secondly, this sentence -- The head guy said, looking straight through me, it seemed. -- is pretty contorted. Suggest opening the paragraph with something like: It felt like the head guy looked straight through me when he said, "Yeah, girlie. Etc.")

"Of course I'm up for it. I'll need to check out the hardware before I commit, though."

"We don't have the time for all that shit. Either yYou're in, or you're out. Right now."

Ain't ("ain't," meaning "there isn't," is present tense. This needs to be "Wasn't) no fucking around with these guys. "All right, I'm in." What did I just agree to?

"Good. Let's have us a drink on it then. Seal the deal, as it were." He signaled to the bartender for a round for the table. I looked around to the other guys at the table , who all had remained silent during this exchange. (You don't have to tell us they were silent because, obviously, they said nothing. You've shown us.) There were five of them, a hodgepodge of Anglos, Italian, and Creole. The youngest was Tommy, an Italian kid who still looked wet behind the ears (cliché), other than this wild look in his eyes that suggested, at least to me, that you didn't want to meet him in a dark alley. With this group of guys, yYou really didn't want to meet any of these guys them in a dark alley. This kid, this kid really scared me. (I didn't care for the "this kid" repetition.) He was a real psycho. I could see the soul of a Charlie Manson staring back out at me through his eyes. (ooo, nice)

Then there was Remy,. Remy was my contact to all this. A suave, charismatic cCreole that I had known for a couple of months. (I don't think this fragment does anything for you, just makes the narrative choppy to me.) That was forever in my scheme of things. He was the first person who was nice to me when I had come to this godforsaken city. I always thought of him as the whore with a heart of gold kind. Thief by trade, romantic at heart.

With the deletion of the first couple of paragraphs (which could be moved to internal monologue later for purposes of characterization), this opening raises interesting story questions for me. I'd like to hear more.

Thanks, Amber, for sharing your work with us. And keep writing.

For what it's worth.

RR

Free edit in exchange for posting permission. You send a sample that you have questions about and of which you'd like an edit. I won't post it without your permission.

© 2005 Ray Rhamey