What do you guys think?

To start, I'm NOT a writer, I was just bored tonight and was inspired, so I opened my laptop and just started writing something. Figured you guys would be the best group to bounce this off of. Tell me what you think so far. If you guys like it I'll finish it as a short story, if not the trash can is just a click away!

Thanks!

Twilight. The lush breeze from the ocean breathes on his face. A Chuck Taylor leans up against a wide white wall. The way the setting sun reflects off the eight chrome velocity stacks of Johnny’s motor soothes him. The night will soon engulf the terrain, bringing with it a time of peace. Only at night Johnny feels like himself. The day is wrought with frustrations, lost ambitions, deteriorations and self-minded equivocations. The night is free from the pain of the time.
Johnny walks around the passenger side of his Model A. A glance towards the empty passenger seat reminds him of Becka, a love lost to a car. A smirk gently breaks upon his face, but disappears quickly as the memory fades. His eyes turn towards the edge of the road. Looking down at his Converse covered feet grinding against the sand on the paved road he envisions a time when guys like him were the norm. A time which also has drifted away.
Its dark now, and the ease of the night alleviates his worries. Johnny opens the old door to his hand built hot rod, taking in the sounds of the old car. The metallic sounds of deliberate mechanical operations that have now subsided to the modern world of composites and polymers sound real and organic, almost life-like.
Johnny flips the toggle switch activating the ignition system and puts the manual transmission in neutral. He pumps the cast aluminum accelerator pedal twice, presses the starter button and with a bark the old Hemi fires off. The open lake headers spat the tone of reckless, but purposeful power. The metal cockpit rattles from the abuse of the oversized engine. He slips the transmission into first gear and holds the clutch. The ocean breeze graces his face one more time as he peers thoughtlessly into the sea. A check of the mirror and an aggressive release of the clutch and the old pile of metal springs to life onto the coastal highway.
Tonight Johnny has a destination, and this time the lonely drive is for a purpose. His services are required at an undisclosed location 10 miles away just outside of town. He needs the money, so for once he has compromised his morals. But the sting of which still hasn’t subsided, and an uneasy feeling sets into his gut as he puts the rod in high gear.

 

i like it! i do, however, have a few suggestions; but don't take offense. the only people who need thicker skin than young guys in hot rod shops are writers.
-you have a great way of moving the story forward by maintaining brevity within your sentence structure, but if you use it too consistently it blends in and loses its strength.
-rather than solely focusing descriptive words on objects, take time to use more powerful verbs. again, when everything is described in such detail the certain points you want to stand out end up compounded with the rest and lose some depth due to comparison.
-limit starting multiple sentences in a single paragraph with the same word. in the first paragraph five of the seven sentences started with, "the." by trading out words and combining sentences it will be read in a less 'list-like' and more of a 'story-like' fashion.

just ideas. i don't want you to feel like i'm raining on your parade. if it were a book i'd turn the page!

 

I'm not offended at all! Thanks a bunch, good ideas. Like I said I'm not a writer, but just like everyone else here I'm a creator, and for some reason I just decided I wanted to create a story. Input is always welcome. I'll do some re-writing (I didn't even realize the "the" problem-my high school english teachers would be pissed) and push the story forward, see what I can do. Thanks Doc!

 

I HATE IT....

....because i cant finish the story! Well that was my attempt at humor.

Any way i like it. But instead of discribing the car so specificaly, imply more about it. The part that jumped out was where you say the switch gave power to the ignition.
Good story so far. I'm hooked. (just subscribed so keep posting on here)

 

No problem guys, I'll work on it more tonight, post later on. If someone doesn't like it or thinks its bad through it up-I'm all ears, just trying to see what you guys like. Thanks!

 

As long as the opening sentence is NOT: "I've never written to Penthouse Forum before, but I have to tell you about...", then you are in pretty good shape. However, your story could really go South on ya!!!

Seriously, it sounds like you are going somewhere with your opening paragraph.

You COULD have each HAMBer do the next paragraph in series, and see what warped destination that leads to!

 

Alright, did a little more typing. I have an idea where I'm going with it, but I think it may be a little too "dramatic" for a hot rod story-let me know what you think. I'm just going to post the story in its entirety and seperate the new parts with a large space so its easily recognized.

Also, I do like what Patrick66 said, maybe could lead to a cool story, so if someone wants to take the story somewhere else go for it!

Twilight. The lush breeze from the ocean breathes on his face. A Chuck Taylor leans up against a wide white wall. The way the setting sun reflects off the eight chrome velocity stacks of Johnny’s motor soothes him. The night will soon engulf the terrain, bringing with it a time of peace. Only at night Johnny feels like himself. The day is wrought with frustrations, lost ambitions, deteriorations and self-minded equivocations. The night is free from the pain of the time.
Johnny walks around the passenger side of his Model A. A glance towards the empty passenger seat reminds him of Becka, a love lost to a car. A smirk gently breaks upon his face, but disappears quickly as the memory fades. His eyes turn towards the edge of the road. Looking down at his Converse covered feet grinding against the sand on the paved road he envisions a time when guys like him were the norm. A time which also has drifted away.
Its dark now, and the ease of the night alleviates his worries. Johnny opens the old door to his hand built hot rod, taking in the sounds of the old car. The metallic sounds of deliberate mechanical operations that have now subsided to the modern world of composites and polymers sound real and organic, almost life-like.
Johnny flips the toggle switch activating the ignition system and puts the manual transmission in neutral. He pumps the cast aluminum accelerator pedal twice, presses the starter button and with a bark the old Hemi fires off. The open lake headers spat the tone of reckless, but purposeful power. The metal cockpit rattles from the abuse of the oversized engine. He slips the transmission into first gear and holds the clutch. The ocean breeze graces his face one more time as he peers thoughtlessly into the sea. A check of the mirror and an aggressive release of the clutch and the old pile of metal springs to life onto the coastal highway.
Tonight Johnny has a destination, and this time the lonely drive is for a purpose. His services are required at an undisclosed location 10 miles away just outside of town. He needs the money, so for once he has compromised his morals. But the sting of which still hasn’t subsided, and an uneasy feeling sets into his gut as he puts the rod in high gear.
　
　
　
Johnny grew up the oldest child of a good mother and father. He loved them dearly, but finances did not. His mother worked at a day care by day and waited tables at night. His old man was a mechanic at two full time jobs. They didn’t have the money to give Johnny what he wanted, and sadly didn’t have the time to give him love. But Johnny wasn’t the feel-bad-for-me type. He was proud of his upbringing. Proud of the fact that he had to learn how to take care of his own problems early on.
A year ago Johnny lost his mother to breast cancer. This destroyed his father. Whenever his old man had a free moment or two he would describe a future when he and his wife could enjoy some coffee on the front porch on a Saturday morning together. It was the simple things in life his old man appreciated and longed for. Simple things that no longer mattered-a future no longer worth striving for. The only thing that kept his old man going was his new found joy of hot rodding and spending time with the son he never really got to know.
The old warehouse was located off an industrial drive, situated at the end of a short driveway amongst other run down buildings. Common, good-natured folk didn’t come around these parts, and the law felt it better not to disturb a sleeping dragon. Johnny himself knew better than to venture into this cavernous association of decrepit buildings, but times were tough and sometimes good men are forced to do bad things.
As he idled the coupe around the back of the building he could see the large bay door in which he was informed to enter. No element of surprise existed around his Model A-the reworked engine pronounced its arrival long before it’s proximity. The door opened as he drew near, and he pulled into the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse.
“So your Johnny?” Chico said, a tall rough looking biker type with a long bushy beard and tattoos that appeared to be unending.
“Yeah, that’s me” said Johnny, cautiously exiting his coupe and nonchalantly checking his right pocket for his knife.
“A little young aren’t ya, kid?” said Chico, with almost a humorous tonality.
“I’m 24, old enough to know, young enough to deny” Johnny replied quickly, trying to ease the initial “meet and greet”.
“Ha ha ha, you know kid,” Chico puts his arm around Johnny and walks him toward the front of the car where Johnny notices 3 other rough looking associates of Chico, “when I was that age all I was concerned with was getting laid and getting paid, and I sure as hell was happier than you are.”
Johnny pulled his hands out of his blue jeans and looked at Chico, “I get along just fine, and I get my fair share of tail.” He didn’t want to waste time with small talk, but he also didn’t want to force the subject and arouse an uneasiness among Chico’s boys.
“Alright kid,” Chico’s light hearted demeanor changed instantly to that of a man with an agenda, “the deal is we put a suitcase in your car. We tell you where to go with it. You arrive at that point on time and meet who we tell you to meet. He will give something in return for the suitcase. That something comes back here. You don’t know what you’re taking or bringing back, but trust me kid, you don’t want the implications if you decide you want to get curious. And above all, if the five-oh get interested, lose ‘em. I don’t care how, just lose ’em. You bring them around here and its you’re ass. You get paid when everything’s all hunky-dory. Got it?”
Johnny nods his head, “Seems real cut and dry.”
“Yeah,” Chico looks at Johnny as if he was sizing him up for something, “cut and dry. Alright, Redd” Chico calls over to one of his boys. “Get the case, number 6b, put it in the trunk of that piece.”
Offended by that comment, but knowing his place Johnny turns to Chico with a firm stance ready for nothing more than the instructions.
“You know that chain coffee house off of Pine? There’s an Asian guy there wearing a suit. He’ll be reading some stock broker newspaper. Sit at his table and give him the case. He’ll hand you an envelop. In case you start thinking about running away with it I’ll tell you right now-there ain’t no money in there. Bring that back in hour.”
Johnny nods and steadily walks over to his car. He gets in and backs out of the warehouse, pretending not to notice all of the men staring down on him as if they know something he does not.
A half mile away from the warehouse on a desolate 2-lane back into town Johnny notices a set of headlights pull out behind him. He gazes into his rear view trying to identify the make. The two circular headlights with the droopy eyelids beneath tell him its an early fifties olds. The car draws near at a fast rate.
Wanting to avoid suspicion Johnny doesn’t reach for the gear shifter and draws down in his seat. The more the car closes in the more Johnny wants to dump it into third and weld the accelerator to floor. A few seconds after he first saw the lights the Olds is right on his rear end. High beams begin to flash and the spot light shines at his mirror.
“What the hell is this all about?” Johnny thinks to himself as he slowly opens the throttle. Legislature passed in 2015 all but outlawed old cars, and now at this inappropriate moment in time a heavily chopped 52 Olds is up his ass wanting attention.
Figuring the arrival of the Olds has nothing to do with the suitcase Johnny drops the trans in third and dumps the clutch, easily walking away from the low-slung custom. His eyes transition from his mirror to the road just in time to see Johnny Law jump out in front of him with the bubble gum machine whirring, and the side of the patrol car directly in Johnny’s path.

 

Ooooh that's good. But I don't really like books based in the near future for some reason. You could probably get a similar point across about the legislation with something about that area having recent legislation or something.
Keep at it, it's turning out good

 

What's in the magic suitcase? Is it Marcellus Wallce's soul??? Or gold???

 

hahahah no shit.

 

i love it. This is your new job. You are a writer.

 

this is a good read, but i agree with 50stude 86 the 2015. makes it sound all futuristic. My only criticism. I will shut up now lol.
Please keep em coming I'm subscribed.

 

funny thing about Marcellus Wallace's briefcase, gold has nothing to do with the contents!

 

When you open it, it has a golden light.

What does Marcellus Wallace look like? Say what again!

 

Damn, I read the last sentence first as usual. I knew how it ended so I could not read the whole thing.......

 

It's probably some ardun heads in the suitcase. Lol

 

Haha. That would give me that look of amazement everybody has when they see what's inside Wallace's suitcase.

 

Yeah, the 2015 threw me. Otherwise it's real good.

Finish it, man. Get it into Barnes & Noble -- I'd buy it. Develop your character, think up some adventures for him..... way cool.

Pete

 

I like it, just curious, do you have an overall plot worked out? or are you just kinda going along and building one as you go?

 

Wow, I'm really glad you guys like it! Okay-the whole 2015 part, I'll admit, was on a whim, I needed a way to put that old cars weren't common and just thought of that off the cuff, so I can change it. After a re-read today I notice it does kind of change everything around, so I'll rework something. I do have a plot in mind, thought it up after the first admission and wrote the most recent installment to set up the plot. I really appreciate the input-keep it coming. I'll start working on some more of it tonight, probably get it up late tonight or early tomorrow. Thanks guys!

 

the style strikes me as more poetry based then story, which is just as good, just different. i love to write about this stuff too so feel free to im me if you have a question about anything.

 

Not to rush the creative process.....but any updates?