My first assignment/apology

I hit the wrong button and send this incomplete the first time, so please accept this as my finished assignment. It is regretable if anyone read the other one first. I am really new at this forum thing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Twenty minutes and I will find out if I am lucky or stupid.

"Thank you." sitting, I put his book on the table.

"I am waiting for someone, he said he comes here all the time, he asked me to tell you to just let me hold our table until he gets here. I'd like water please."

Did that waiter just sniff at me? Pretentious dork.

Then it dawned, the way I had said "someone", and the dress, not what the other ladies are wearin...the waiter thinks I am a hooker! Why did he pick such a snooty place? That bastard. He probably isn't even a regular here.

I wish I could have resisted him when he wrote "Come to dinner with me tonight. I have to meet you" Coffee or a quick drink would have been easier, he was good enough on the screen, of course I could only fall for a briliant writer..his voice better match his words, what if I am not at all attracted to him?

Even better, what if I am, and he is not attracted to me?

The waiter set two glasses of water on the table, I thanked him without looking.

Besides, this is premature, I told him I was not finished with his book yet. I could almost hear him laughing when he wrote that I should bring it with me, so he would know me, the girl sitting alone with his book. He had such a way of telling me what to do, his voice had better match his words, all those letters, borderline obssessive, the insanity of falling in virtual love. He had warned me, I should finish his book before I met him. It has a sad ending, if I finished the book I might not want to meet him.

I was so happy when he sent it to me, the thick manuscript, the treacherous characters, it was so sexy when he told me my letters reminded him of Vivian, his main character...his consumate slut. So far the story was riveting and the darker desires of the male counterpart to Viv, well, I had not chickened out, and I wanted to meet him too.

Must be five minutes.

Just sit still, ignore the waiter glaring at the glasses of water on the table, at my open book taking up his station. The waiter wants me to look at the menu, I cannot bear to see how much it will cost to eat here. He said it was on him, I was glad for that, I normally wouldn't spend quite so much for dinner. White table cloths, fancy silver, waiters and back waiters and a battalion of busboys, music like expensive perfume wafting in the air, waiters and busboys all staring at me sitting alone with his book, I know he wanted me to meet him here simply because I don't usually do fancy, and he wanted it to be special. "This place has been there for almost a hundred years, and it will be there in ten years when we go back for our anniversary dinner" he was so sure of himself. When he wrote. He will be here soon enough and that snippy waiter will be lucky to have us, to have his fat tip at the end.

Carnal crapshoot. Rolling the dice again, ten more minutes and I will know if I am lucky.

Of course, there is no way I can read now, my stomach stapled with waiting for him. Time is passing, we are about to collide, it cannot stop, why is he taking so long?

Breath, Chloe, breath, longer, better, you love this remember? The anticipation after all is often the best part, he had never said anything offensive, he had never seemed to be the flightly one. He wrote for three months, discussing everything but sex, he was dedicated to answering my mail, and he agreed to go slow.

He was agreeable when I said I never wanted him to send me a picture and I would not send one to him, not until after we meet, I was not going to have myself plastered all over the internet. He respected my wishes. He played along nicely, and we described ourselves in brutal honest subjective detail. I know he will either be attractive or not, he has the sort of mind I like and a picture would have made no difference in the end. I liked the way his personality felt, and I could tell he was hot. His profile on the website dedicated to finding a kinky date was brief and mysterious, but I liked his spirit, no a picture would have made no difference in the end.

Speakin of the end, where the hell...

I am glad I have his book, better than sittin here lookin around, time is getting closer, if he is not here in a few minutes I will check my phone, see the time, good thing I never wear a watch, I would have looked at it fifty times by now, no I will not wonder if he is late. I will let him watch me as long as he likes before he sits.

That does it, I know he is late...

"Excuse me, this is awkward" the waiter did not look so stuck up. I looked at him and my heart plunged. He was not coming.

In a hushed tone he told me "The gentleman called and said he is sorry, he will not be coming, He left his credit card number and said you should order whatever you like and to please forgive him and enjoy your dinner"

I laughed quietly, in an appropriatlely awkward manner "Good thing I have something to read." I sighed slowly and relaxed. I was strangley relieved. "Thank you, give me a few minutes and I will order" I picked up the unopened menu.

"Very good" the waiter smiled this time.

Hmmm, maybe he is the waiter...now this was getting fun. I could imagine that he has not stood me up. He just wants to see how I take it

A tall slim man, wearing the most casual attire tolerated in a place like this walked across the dining room from the bar. I saw him and recognised his movement, he was one of my regulars from the bar, he was the brooding, good looking, quiet man who always came to my bar and ate, never spoke, seemed to listen and think all the time. I had wondered what he was thinking when I caught him watching me work. He seemed to like me as a bartender, even though he never spoke. He had the coldest blue eyes, I did not even know his name.

He seemed startled to see me, I could not help but smile, he almost smiled, and to my suprise he came to my table. It was nice to see someone I almost knew. He seemed to be alone, he was always alone when he came to the bar, good lookin guy, one of those crazy rich guys who always goes out by himself.

He waved a greeting and looked at the situation, me sitting with a book, my lone menu, the waiter had taken the other one away, cruel punctuation to the fact that I had been stood up.

With raised eyebrow he asked "Can I join you Chloe, you look like you might need company?"

Need? "Sure, sweetheart, I hate to say it, I never learned your name." I stood and reached for his hand...

His hand was warm. "Christian."

"Nice to meet you by name, Christian. You are good at keeping to yourself."
I smiled at him, maybe he was shy.

"Yes, like it like that." He was smiling as well.

Now I was smiling. She remembered him, the nice quiet guy, always came in late, by himself, only spoke enough to order, vodka grapefruit, and a soup or a sandwich, and maybe one more drink and he would quietly pay and leave. he tipped well. Twice a week I had seen him, for the last year or so. Never more than two sentences between us and now he was in my writer's seat. He sat close to me not across the table.

As if he was reading my mind, he asked "What are you reading?"

"A novel, by a friend, it is not published." in a whisper I added, "He was supposed to be my date tonight. He must have got lost."

"Would you like to have a date with me instead?" he whispered back.

I thought about the months of celibacy and how nice his eyes looked,

"Yes, Christian. That would be nice. I was wondering what you sound like."

He smiled. "I always have alot to think about when I come to your bar."

"That's fine with me. I hate having to talk to people at work."

"I am sorry, you are always so nice to people." he took my hand as he said it.

"What about your other date Chloe, aren't you angry that he did not come?"

"What other date?"

He pulled my hand toward him, his grip was firm as he pulled me toward him, he looked me in the eyes and whispered to me, "I am going to take you home with me after dinner."

My heart raced, he was so forward, I had been watching him for months, never thinking he was very interested and now he was planning to seduce me. I wondered what he would think of the kinky website where I had met the mysterious writer. I wondered if I would scare him if I went with him.

It had been so long since I had given in to a man. I had been determined to find a good fit, and not revert to my past days of insane sluttery, the only reason I was messin with that writer in the first place. He seems to have a dark secret, this quiet Christian. After a pregnant pause, I decided.

"Yes, Christian."

He was smiling at me with his whole face and he was holding my hand a bit tighter as he said to me, as I had dreamed so many times...

"Chloe, you are Vivian."

This is really very good. The characterizations and internal monologue really carry the reader into the story, and give the essential, wonderful backstory without becoming pedantic or expository. I left some grammatical things uncorrected precisely because they were part of the internal monologue which is seldom in prefect English. Excellent first assignment. i will get your next assignment today sometime. Now onto the nits.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Switch Positive

"Thank you." sitting, I put his book on the table.

the period here should be a comma



Then it dawned, the way I had said "someone", and the dress, not what the other ladies are wearing...the waiter thinks I am a hooker!

I wish I could have resisted him when he wrote "Come to dinner with me tonight. I have to meet you."
Even better, what if I am, and he is not attracted to me?

The waiter set two glasses of water on the table, (should be a semicolon here) I thanked him without looking.

Besides, this is premature, I told him I was not finished with his book yet. I could almost hear him laughing when he wrote that I should bring it with me, so he would know me, the girl sitting alone with his book. He had such a way of telling me what to do, his voice had better match his words, all those letters, borderline obssessive, the insanity of falling in virtual love. He had (delete) warned me, I should finish his book before I met him. It has a sad ending, if I finished the book I might not want to meet him.

I was so happy when he sent it to me, the thick manuscript, the treacherous characters, it was so sexy when he told me my letters reminded him of Vivian, his main character...his consumate slut. So far, the story was riveting and the darker desires of the male counterpart to Viv, well, I had not chickened out, and I wanted to meet him too.

Must be five minutes.

Just sit still, ignore the waiter glaring at the glasses of water on the table, at my open book taking up his station. The waiter wants me to look at the menu, I cannot bear to see how much it will cost to eat here. He said it was on him, I was glad for that, I normally wouldn't spend quite so much for dinner. White table cloths, fancy silver, waiters and back waiters and a battalion of busboys, music like expensive perfume wafting in the air (nothing wrong here, just wanted to say that i love this turn of phrase), waiters and busboys all staring at me sitting alone with his book, I know he wanted me to meet him here simply because I don't usually do fancy, and he wanted it to be special. "This place has been there for almost a hundred years, and it will be there in ten years when we go back for our anniversary dinner"add a dash here for emotional impact and clarity he was so sure of himself. (the next three words seems to belong to the previous sentence) When he wrote. He will be here soon enough and that snippy waiter will be lucky to have us, to have his fat tip at the end.

Carnal crapshoot. Rolling the dice again, ten more minutes and I will know if I am lucky.

Of course, there is no way I can read now, my stomach stapled with waiting for him. Time is passing, we are about to collide, it cannot stop, why is he taking so long?

Breath, Chloe, breath, longer, better, you love this remember? The anticipation after all is often the best part, he had never said anything offensive, he had never seemed to be the flightly one. He wrote for three months, discussing everything but sex, he was dedicated to answering my mail, and he agreed to go slow.

He was agreeable when I said I never wanted him to send me a picture and I would not send one to him, not until after we meet, I was not going to have myself plastered all over the internet. He respected my wishes. He played along nicely, and we described ourselves in brutal honest subjective detail. I know he will either be attractive or not, he has the sort of mind I like and a picture would have made no difference in the end. I liked the way his personality felt, and I could tell he was hot. His profile on the website dedicated to finding a kinky date was brief and mysterious, but I liked his spirit, no a picture would have made no difference in the end.

Speakin of the end, where the hell...

I am glad I have his book, better than sittin here looking around, time is getting closer, if he is not here in a few minutes I will check my phone, see the time, good thing I never wear a watch, I would have looked at it fifty times by now, no I will not wonder if he is late. I will let him watch me as long as he likes before he sits.

That does it, I know he is late...

"Excuse me, this is awkward" the waiter did not look so stuck up. I looked at him and my heart plunged. He was not coming.

In a hushed tone he told me "The gentleman called and said he is sorry, he will not be coming, He left his credit card number and said you should order whatever you like and to please forgive him and enjoy your dinner."

I laughed quietly, in an appropriatlely awkward manner, "Good thing I have something to read." I sighed slowly and relaxed. I was strangley relieved. "Thank you, give me a few minutes and I will order (simplify here, this last part is unnecessary and you need a period inside the quotation marks.)" I picked up the unopened menu.

"Very good" the waiter smiled this time.

Hmmm, maybe he is the waiter...now this was getting fun. I could imagine that he has not stood me up. He just wants to see how I take it

A tall slim man, wearing the most casual attire tolerated in a place like this walked across the dining room from the bar. I saw him and recognised his movement, he was one of my regulars from the bar, he was the brooding, good looking, quiet man who always came to my bar and ate, never spoke, seemed to listen and think all the time. I had wondered what he was thinking when I caught him watching me work. He seemed to like me as a bartender, even though he never spoke. He had the coldest blue eyes, (should be a semicolon) I did not even know his name.

He seemed startled to see me, (semicolon please) I could not help but smile, (period here and start a new sentence He almost smiled, and to my suprise he came to my table. It was nice to see someone I almost knew. He seemed to be alone, he was always alone when he came to the bar, good lookin guy, one of those crazy rich guys who always goes out by himself.

He waved a greeting and looked at the situation, me sitting with a book, my lone menu, the waiter had taken the other one away, cruel punctuation to the fact that I had been stood up.

With raised eyebrow he asked, "Can I join you Chloe, you look like you might need company?"

Need? "Sure, sweetheart, I hate to say it, I never learned your name." I stood and reached for his hand...

His hand was warm. "Christian."

"Nice to meet you by name, Christian. You are good at keeping to yourself."
I smiled at him, maybe he was shy.

"Yes, like it like that." He was smiling as well.

Now I was smiling. She (changed person here, switch this to "I")remembered him, the nice quiet guy, always came in late, by himself, only spoke enough to order, vodka grapefruit, and a soup or a sandwich, and maybe one more drink and he would quietly pay and leave. He tipped well. Twice a week I had seen him, for the last year or so. Never more than two sentences between us and now he was in my writer's seat. He sat close to me not across the table.

As if he was reading my mind, he asked, "What are you reading?"

"A novel, by a friend, it is not published. (this should be a comma)" in a whisper I added, "He was supposed to be my date tonight. He must have got lost."

"Would you like to have a date with me instead?" he whispered back.

I thought about the months of celibacy and how nice his eyes looked,

"Yes, Christian. That would be nice. I was wondering what you sound like."

He smiled.(comma here instead) "I always have alot to think about when I come to your bar."

"That's fine with me. I hate having to talk to people at work."

"I am sorry, you are always so nice to people.(comma)" he took my hand as he said it.

"What about your other date Chloe, aren't you angry that he did not come?"

"What other date?"

He pulled my hand toward him, his grip was firm as he pulled me toward him, he looked me in the eyes and whispered to me, "I am going to take you home with me after dinner."

My heart raced, he was so forward, I had been watching him for months, never thinking he was very interested and now he was planning to seduce me. I wondered what he would think of the kinky website where I had met the mysterious writer. I wondered if I would scare him if I went with him.

It had been so long since I had given in to a man. I had been determined to find a good fit, and not revert to my past days of insane sluttery, the only reason I was messing with that writer in the first place. He seems to have a dark secret, this quiet Christian. After a pregnant pause, I decided.

"Yes, Christian."

He was smiling at me with his whole face and he was holding my hand a bit tighter as he said to me, as I had dreamed so many times...

"Chloe, you are Vivian."

---

Thank you for the nice compliments, I obviously need to look up semicolons, never having finished high school the punctuation always snags me, at least I have leared to use the spellcheck...I mispelled the word corrected for precisely the reason you cited, it was like speech and I wanted to emphasise the she was in a nice restuarant but she was the more informal type...THANK YOU.

I spend almost all of my free time writing so I hope you don't mind if i do my assignments in a lot less than three weeks.

Any time frame is fine.

http://owl.english.purdue.edu/handou.../g_overvw.html

http://www.factmonster.com/ipka/A0771337.html

Here are a couple of really good punctuation references that i use for my real-time students.

I like this too. Great work! Good seduction, draws itself nicely out from a few minutes into a few months with the growing backstory, looks great!

I noticed a few more nits that Dragon's Muse missed, so here goes... (Yes I'm a newbie writer but I'm a really experienced proofreader and non-fiction writer, so I feel qualified to do this.)

"Thank you." sitting, I put his book on the table.

the period here should be a comma



Then it dawned, the way I had said "someone", and the dress, not what the other ladies are wearing...the waiter thinks I am a hooker!

I wish I could have resisted him when he wrote "Come to dinner with me tonight. I have to meet you."
Even better, what if I am, and he is not attracted to me? (this sentence is out of place or refers to something elsewhere. What if I am what?

The waiter set two glasses of water on the table, (should be a semicolon here) I thanked him without looking.

Besides, this was premature(semicolon or dash); I told him I was not finished with his book yet. I could almost hear him laughing when he wrote that I should bring it with me, so he would know me, the girl sitting alone with his book. He had such a way of telling me what to do, his voice had better match his words, all those letters, borderline obssessive, the insanity of falling in virtual love. He had (delete) warned me that I should finish his book before I met him. It has a sad ending; if I finished the book I might not want to meet him.

I was so happy when he sent it to me--the thick manuscript, the treacherous characters. it was so sexy when he told me my letters reminded him of Vivian, his main character...his consummate slut. So far, the story was riveting and the darker desires of the male counterpart to Viv, well, I had not chickened out, and I wanted to meet him too.

Must be five minutes.

Just sit still, ignore the waiter glaring at the glasses of water on the table, at my open book taking up his station. The waiter wants me to look at the menu; (When you have two complete sentences that you want to glue together, use a semicolon not a comma. There are too many of these examples to keep doing it here, and Dragon's Muse has caught many of them -- you get the idea.) I cannot bear to see how much it will cost to eat here. He said it was on him, I was glad for that, I normally wouldn't spend quite so much for dinner. White table cloths, fancy silver, waiters and back waiters and a battalion of busboys, music like expensive perfume wafting in the air, waiters and busboys all staring at me sitting alone with his book, I know he wanted me to meet him here simply because I don't usually do fancy, and he wanted it to be special. "This place has been there for almost a hundred years, and it will be there in ten years when we go back for our anniversary dinner"add a dash here for emotional impact and clarity he was so sure of himself. (the next three words seems to belong to the previous sentence) When he wrote. He will be here soon enough and that snippy waiter will be lucky to have us, to have his fat tip at the end.

Carnal crapshoot. Rolling the dice again, ten more minutes and I will know if I am lucky.

Of course, there is no way I can read now, my stomach stapled with waiting for him. Time is passing, we are about to collide, it cannot stop, why is he taking so long?

Breathe, Chloe, breathe, longer, better, you love this remember? The anticipation after all is often the best part, he had never said anything offensive, he had never seemed to be the flightly one. He wrote for three months, discussing everything but sex. he was dedicated to answering my mail, and he agreed to go slow.

Notes in general -- the multiple sentences joined by commas give a breathless quality to the text, and is technically incorrect, but sometimes can work. In dialogue, though, it always sounds wrong. Check through your dialogue and see how many times people speak two or three sentences joined by a comma.

Also -- you have an internal dialogue going for the entire piece, some of it in past tense as flashback, some in present as thoughts, some in past perfect when required. This can be very effective if done carefully, but very confusing if you accidentally get a tense wrong. Proofread carefully for verb tenses when trying this.

Best,