Critique my revised story beginning?
What do you like and NOT like about my writing? (It's colloquial.) Would you keep reading?
words like this *_______* are suppose to be in italics. thanks guys.
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I had just walked a few blocks from Tony's house when a cop pulled me over. Well, not technically *pulled me over*, but yeah, he stopped me. He was a fat, chunky bastard with a little mustache like an evil villain or something, and he was wearing some big-dark wannabe Terminator glasses. You could just tell by the way he drove his car with one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window that he thought he was all bad.
"Hey, kid, what's your name?"
I just said the first name that came to my mind. "Lawrence, sir."
*Lawrence*, I thought, oh God shoot me.
He slowly parked his car on the sidewalk, right next to me, *without* turning off the car. Cops are pretty smart that way, they never turn off their cars even if they're only parking.
"Hmmm", he nodded his head, "*Lawrence*. What's the backpack for?"
God damn nosy-bastard. You don't even know how mad he got me just by asking that. Man, why can't cops just mind their own business.
"Oh, it's- uh for school and stuff, you know?" I was trying to sound as smooth as possible but my lip was sort'a twitching and my freak'n throat was clogging up with saliva which made me sound awkward when I spoke. It happens to me when I'm nervouse, I hate myself.
Anyways, I think I was too obivous. The cop knew something was up. He took his stunner shades off, looked me to the eyes and said all innocently "Oh yea? What kind'a school 'ya got on a Saturday? I mean, is it far from here because I could give 'ya a lift 'ya need one."
There was really nothing I could say to that. I thought there might be, but there wasn't. Besides, what was the use? I stared at him for like two seconds without saying anything 'cuz I realized the bastard probably *knew* who I was, and was just playing with me to see if I'd give in. HelI NO, I wasn't gonna give in.
I took a deep breath and stepped two or three feet back with this blank expression on my face like I'd just discovered Darth Vader was my father or something. It was all cinamatic like I was about to make a big run for it, which I was, but not quite yet.
Right when I saw he started openning his door to get out, I kicked it right back-in on his *** as hard as I could with my very best front-kick and then shot off like my mother was dying- literally. His chubby little butt came after me for only a few yards and then ran back to his car- probably to call back up and tell'em he'd found Jerry Franco. I was *really* fortunate he was a chunky cop. Any fit guy would'a probably caught me 'cuz I tire out fast while running. I mean, I'm a lightning fast starter but I just can't keep the pace.
What do you like and NOT like about my writing? (It's colloquial.) Would you keep reading?
words like this *_______* are suppose to be in italics. thanks guys.
--------------------------------------…
I had just walked a few blocks from Tony's house when a cop pulled me over. Well, not technically *pulled me over*, but yeah, he stopped me. He was a fat, chunky bastard with a little mustache like an evil villain or something, and he was wearing some big-dark wannabe Terminator glasses. You could just tell by the way he drove his car with one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window that he thought he was all bad.
"Hey, kid, what's your name?"
I just said the first name that came to my mind. "Lawrence, sir."
*Lawrence*, I thought, oh God shoot me.
He slowly parked his car on the sidewalk, right next to me, *without* turning off the car. Cops are pretty smart that way, they never turn off their cars even if they're only parking.
"Hmmm", he nodded his head, "*Lawrence*. What's the backpack for?"
God damn nosy-bastard. You don't even know how mad he got me just by asking that. Man, why can't cops just mind their own business.
"Oh, it's- uh for school and stuff, you know?" I was trying to sound as smooth as possible but my lip was sort'a twitching and my freak'n throat was clogging up with saliva which made me sound awkward when I spoke. It happens to me when I'm nervouse, I hate myself.
Anyways, I think I was too obivous. The cop knew something was up. He took his stunner shades off, looked me to the eyes and said all innocently "Oh yea? What kind'a school 'ya got on a Saturday? I mean, is it far from here because I could give 'ya a lift 'ya need one."
There was really nothing I could say to that. I thought there might be, but there wasn't. Besides, what was the use? I stared at him for like two seconds without saying anything 'cuz I realized the bastard probably *knew* who I was, and was just playing with me to see if I'd give in. HelI NO, I wasn't gonna give in.
I took a deep breath and stepped two or three feet back with this blank expression on my face like I'd just discovered Darth Vader was my father or something. It was all cinamatic like I was about to make a big run for it, which I was, but not quite yet.
Right when I saw he started openning his door to get out, I kicked it right back-in on his *** as hard as I could with my very best front-kick and then shot off like my mother was dying- literally. His chubby little butt came after me for only a few yards and then ran back to his car- probably to call back up and tell'em he'd found Jerry Franco. I was *really* fortunate he was a chunky cop. Any fit guy would'a probably caught me 'cuz I tire out fast while running. I mean, I'm a lightning fast starter but I just can't keep the pace.