Novel Treatments / Sinners
Their oldest son.
Pastor Lawson’s head hung dejectedly in his large, dark hands. His coffee grew cold in its mug. Mrs. Lawson groped along the wall for the arm of the chair and finally sat down. She felt as if she had just been hit by a concrete truck.
“But I’m telling you though, it ain’t mine,” Luke said casually.
The pastor finally lifted his weary eyes.
“I don’t see how you could so stupid and irresponsible,” he said quietly.
Surprised at the sudden personal attack, Luke’s careless front was dropped, and his face curled itself up into a snarl at the insults.
“Pastor, look, I’m tellin you it ain’t mine—”
He turned to his mother, his ally.
“Mama… look, she gets around, okay. It could be like, ten other guys’.”
“You had sex with her,” the pastor interrupted. “It could be yours as well as anyone’s.”
“Trust me. It ain’t mine,” Luke said confidently. “I strapped up every time I hit.”
Pastor Lawson, who slightly flinched at his vulgar word choice, rubbed his hands down the smooth leather arms of his executive chair.
“Condoms break.”
“Yeah, well she told me she was on the pill too.”
“Then how’d she get pregnant, Luke?”
Luke started to speak, but quickly swallowed his words, silent for a moment.
“I’on know!” he finally cried in exasperation. “All’s I know is that it ain’t mine.”
Suddenly something snapped inside of Mrs. Lawson. Almost instantly, the shock disappeared and she was alive. She was livid.
She gritted her teeth and pointed a shaking finger at him.
“After all these times I told you to wait until you were married, you go out and get some girl pregnant, you stupid boy?!”
Forget angry. Mrs. Lawson, First Lady of Upper Room Chapel, was pissed. If Luke would’ve opened his mouth, if he would’ve dared to say anything, she would’ve easily sent him flying against the wall.
“Honey, why don’t you go into the kitchen?” the pastor said
soothingly. “Let me talk to the boy, huh?”
Still shaking, still seething, she turned and walked out of the room.
Instantly, the carelessness, the arrogance Luke always carried with him was gone. He looked like a six-year-old in the principal’s office, scrunched uncomfortably in his chair, waiting for the verdict, waiting for his punishment.
Pastor Lawson brought the coffee to his lips and took a long sip. Setting it back down, he folded his hands on his desk and stared up at the plaques above his bookshelf.
“Do you realize what damage this could do to us?” he finally asked. “To me? To my church?”
Luke was silent.
Pastor Lawson sighed, visibly deflating like a punctured balloon, and reached into his bottom desk drawer, pulling out his checkbook.
“What’s the young lady’s name?” he asked somberly.
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I love your use of dialect in this peice. I also, happen to love your dialogue.
You need to work on the narrative, setting up the scene, describing the room. Let the reader know what’s around them using the details to establish mood. It’d also would be nice to know about the boy, his parents, maybe a bit of backstory. I realize this is unfinished, and that you’ve got far to go with it. But please, keep at it.
Remember one, fundamental thing: Your reader is STUPID, because they don’t know what’s going on in your head. THerefore, you must be as descriptive as possible and show us what’s going on. You’ve got a good start, keep going with this
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“But I’m telling you though, it ain’t mine,” Luke said casually.
Not sure I’d be real “casual” about such an accusation.
You write in effective sentence style. Short when urgency is to be expressed, more elaborate when suspense or something is to be drawn out. For such a young person you display a very promising talent. One thing I would suggest is perhaps inserting more description. Don’t just tell me who’s talking, tell me about where they are, what’s going on and such. Use all of your five senses. What smells, sounds, sights, etc are experienced?
Could be as simple as he’s holding a pen that suddenly feels wet because his palms are sweaty…. (just something rambling off the top of my head)
All in all, I’d say finish this story and don’t be afraid of DETAIL! you can always cut out irrelevant stuff later! That’s what editing is for.
I like how this story plays on the all too familiar premarital sex. It adds intriguing controversy, however, I’m dying to know why Pastor Lawson pulled out the checkbook. I don’t know where you’re taking this, but if abortion is the issue, then this story really packs a punch. I’m eager to read the next edition.
Why do you continue to spread the myth that condoms break? Are you trying to say that the priest is clueless? The priest otherwise seems like a reliable character, but we don’t know for sure. I’m thinking the priest really turns out to be a spy. Maybe not for a government, like Vatican City, but for a rival condom company. Like he says, “Condoms break. But not trojoans. They’re approved by the pope.”
Am I right?
Man this is such a strange beginning. The first words (pastor) really stick out, and then they are talking about sex. That imediatly brings up a lot of confusion, I dont think it works well at all at the beginning of the book. You dont have enough time to get a sense of who any of the charcters are. You just kinda have to imagine the type of person they are through their dialect. At least when you talk to someone im person you can see their body movements and facial expressions. Its very difficult to get a sense of the characters at all. You really need some sort of intro.
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