Comment on my writing

[PokerFink]

<font color="blue"> This is a piece I am working on for my fiction class. Like? Dislike? Feel free to give comments, flame, whatever. This is just the first scene.</font>

Abbey brushed back her matted blonde hair, wrecked from a sweaty night of dancing, partying and sex, and crawled from the bed.

The man snored. His unkempt bleached hair ran across his brow; his scruffy face lay on a pillow clutched vertically against his chest by a pair of strong, muscular arms. He was cute, mid to late twenties, a few years older than Abbey. What was his name, anyway? Joe? Jon? Jake? Definitely something with a J. Justin? Doesn’t matter, anyway.

The large red numbers on his black alarm clock glowed 4:14 – the night before a fragmented mess in Abbey’s mind, scattered about her memory like her clothes across the man’s bedroom. Piecing together her outfit would be easy, but the night was irreparable.

The man stirred, rolled over and grunted something. Oh [censored]. Don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up. An agonizing minute passed. Then another. Abbey stood frozen in horror and watched him, silently praying he would stay asleep. His strong bare chest expanded and contracted with his slow breathing. He moved against the pillow and clutched it closer to his chest, but his eyes remained closed, his breathing slow. Abbey exhaled deeply; there would be no half-drunken morning encounter this time.

Abbey glanced around the man’s bedroom. Posters of models in bikinis decorated the walls, covering up the dirty fading blue paint. A Salvador Dalí poster hung over the bathroom door, its shimmering, formless face looking out at her from its center amidst the mountains and beaches of a world conjured up by his twisted mind. Abbey remembered the piece from her art history class sophomore year, Apparition of Face, and Fruit Dish on Beach . Mr. Galer had taught that class. “You’re pretty” he once said to her. “I want to paint you.” It was an easy A.

Her black dress lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, her heels upside down against the far wall. Her bra was next to the bed, her underwear nowhere in sight. His clothes formed a small pile on a worn grey recliner against the wall, his bright blue shirt in sharp contrast to the chair’s worn upholstery. Condom wrappers, a cigarette butt and a lighter littered his nightstand next to the clock. The silver and grey comforter and sky blue top sheet had been thrown off the bed, the bottom sheet was pulled off the far corner of the mattress. It had obviously been rough. Just the way I like it. Abbey imagined how it had played out, using the placement of the clothes to piece together the sequence. Like a murder detective. They had come in together, stripping and kissing at the same time. He had thrown his clothes onto the chair, she had slid her dress off at the foot of the bed. He probably threw her onto the bed and jumped on top like a lion ambushing its prey. She kicked her shoes across the room. She imagined the sex – rough, hard pounding sex. There was probably an indent in the wall where the headboard kept banging –
The man grunted something again in his sleep.

Abbey slipped back into her dress, jammed her sore feet back into her heels, and walked over to the open closet door, its mirror reflecting the bed and sleeping man. The mirror confirmed her suspicion: she looked like hell. Her tousled hair was going every which way, especially in the back, and her makeup was smeared. The slit in her dress had ripped up half an inch. I look like a banshee. She tip-toed over to the nightstand to pick up her purse, and found her underwear sticking out from under the bed. She slipped it into her bag, and headed out the door into the hallway.

The hallway outside was musty and dimly lit. Brown paint chipped from the doors onto the foul navy carpet. What a shithole. Abbey paused at the door and took one more look at the wrecked bed, the naked, nameless man and his bedroom, and furtively made her retreat down the stairs. No note on the nightstand, no number for him to call. Like it never happened.

[Dead]

[ QUOTE ]
She imagined the sex – rough, hard pounding sex.

[/ QUOTE ]

Elaborate on this point more. Sounds like it's coming along good.

[istewart]

wtf? Porn Academy?

[Subfallen]

Based on my experience with college-level writing, this is very good work. I have one quick reaction: you might consider revising the opening sentence. We gather that Abbey is well acquainted with one-night stands, and from experience prefers avoiding morning-after awkardness. Given this, I would expect her awakening to be a cautious, probing affair. "Brushing back matted hair" and "crawling out of bed" give me visuals of nonchalance, even comfortable carelessness.

But that's just me. Again, good work.

[Stuey]

I think it's great. Not to sappy like a harlequin but it has enough to get the interest of a male or female reader. Yet gives a hint that a bigger story other than a night of sex will follow. Give us the rest when it's ready.

[contentless]

[ QUOTE ]

The man snored. His unkempt bleached hair ran across his brow; his scruffy face lay on a pillow clutched vertically against his chest by a pair of strong, muscular arms. He was cute, mid to late twenties, a few years older than Abbey. What was his name, anyway? Joe? Jon? Jake? Definitely something with a J. Justin? Doesn’t matter, anyway.

[/ QUOTE ]

Good. Just that this paragraph struck me as Hemingway-esque, and its direct phrasing seems out of place of the rest of the piece.

[TStoneMBD]

i really dont know anything about literature, so dont take my advice too literally. i think its good. its witty, entertaining and says alot about her demeanor. however, i think you shouldnt spend too much time forcing the reader to visualize the entire apartment. it seemed that abbey was trying to get out of there as soon as possible, but the way you described the apartment made it seem like she paused for a little while to take everything in. therefore, its confusing. however, i dont know how to fix it. thats just my opinion.

[tolbiny]

this has nothing to do with the quality of the OP statements.
But hemmigwayesque?
Have you read hemmingway?

[The Yugoslavian]

It is no SkipperBob Tale....but it'll do nicely for your class.

Yugoslav

[nothumb]

It's not bad. But basically you are pounding away at the same theme throughout the introduction. She's a chick who has anonymous sex and leaves. Okay, good. Why do we care? What makes her different and interesting? Why should we read a story about her.

Also, why is it Abbey, not Abby? An abbey is a religious term, I've never seen it as a girl's name.

[ QUOTE ]
the night before a fragmented mess in Abbey’s mind, scattered about her memory like her clothes across the man’s bedroom.

[/ QUOTE ]

Yuck

[ QUOTE ]
The large red numbers on his black alarm clock glowed 4:14

[/ QUOTE ]

For some reason I'd rather you used a different word here

[ QUOTE ]
Abbey brushed back her matted blonde hair, wrecked from a sweaty night of dancing, partying and sex, and crawled from the bed.

[/ QUOTE ]

Don't shoot your wad right away. If it's not obvious to your readers that she screwed the guy, I don't know what is.

Next to last paragraph is very strong, several good images that give us an idea of the room and allude to the nights events, the long time spent in heels and the aftermath, all without reverting to cliche... good.

[ QUOTE ]
He probably threw her onto the bed and jumped on top like a lion ambushing its prey.

[/ QUOTE ]

Yuck

[ QUOTE ]
She imagined the sex – rough, hard pounding sex.

[/ QUOTE ]

Can't you come up with a metaphor or something here?

Basically, not trying to be mean by picking this apart this way, I have always appreciated unflinching critique of my fiction and I hope you're the same way. In general I think you have pretty good command of images and your pacing is pretty good, I would work on some of the more figurative language though and try to give us more of a reason to identify your character beyond the stereotypes we have. Good effort.

NT

[PokerFink]

[ QUOTE ]
I have always appreciated unflinching critique of my fiction and I hope you're the same way.

[/ QUOTE ]

I absolutely am the same way. The worst thing about college writing courses is that you aren't allowed to take another student's work and tell them "this is a piece of [censored]" if it is. If something I write sucks, I want to know it sucks. That way when someone says "this is good" I know it actually is.

I appreciate the comments so far. Feel free to say exactly what you dislike or like, just like nothumb. I don't take negatives personally, and sometimes negative comments are the most helpful.

Oh, and as for Abbey vs. Abby, the story is slightly based on a girl I know who spells her name Abbey.

[nothumb]

[ QUOTE ]
Oh, and as for Abbey vs. Abby, the story is slightly based on a girl I know who spells her name Abbey.

[/ QUOTE ]

Never would have guessed.

Change it. /images/graemlins/grin.gif

Seriously. For a variety of reasons.

NT

[thatpfunk]

I'm very critical, so don't take it the wrong way...

Too wordy. You are trying and it is evident.

[Stuey]

I didn't like the girls name either. I didn't know why it bugged me when I read it and still can't find a reason. Just thought I would mention it as I found it very interesting when NT pointed it out. I know zero about literature, but I am sure that is easy to figure out /images/graemlins/smirk.gif. My comments are just from a average joe's point of view.

[bholdr]

Before i say anything else: i liked it a lot. you've got good instincts for storytelling, and the subject matter is both common and racy... good choices. as an editor, though, i'll go ahead and take a critical look at the WRITING... I assume this is for a basic (100 or 200 level) fiction class?
my first impression:

a large percentage of this story is wrapped up in purely visual imagery. try using more touch/ taste/ smell, etc. you comment on the paint a couple times, and use the word 'look' a lot... i love it when writers are capable of blending the senses all together within individual observations... 'the brown walls had hangover hues; the smoke stains, the peeling paint...' (a little alleteration is always fun- heh- 'little alleteration'- onomonopeia's fun too.)

[ QUOTE ]
the night before a fragmented mess in Abbey’s mind, scattered about her memory like her clothes across the man’s bedroom. Piecing together her outfit would be easy, but the night was irreparable.


[/ QUOTE ]
irreperable doesn't mix well with the murder detective thing.

and a little more in depth:

[ QUOTE ]
Her black dress lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, her heels upside down against the far wall. Her bra was next to the bed, her underwear nowhere in sight. His clothes formed a small pile on a worn grey recliner against the wall, his bright blue shirt in sharp contrast to the chair’s worn upholstery. Condom wrappers, a cigarette butt and a lighter littered his nightstand next to the clock. The silver and grey comforter and sky blue top sheet had been thrown off the bed, the bottom sheet was pulled off the far corner of the mattress

[/ QUOTE ]

you're using a very basic sentance structure and repeating it many times in this pharagraph. 'abby saw "A" [comma] then she saw something related to "A"'; it gets a little repetitive. there are many intresting images in this pharagraph, they are worth loosening up with a little... "her underwear was nowhere in sight" deserves much more than just this little kernal. I see that you're laying out the clues for the whole 'murder dective' motif, but it ends up reading like a grocery list- maybe start the pharagraph with the detictive similie, which would make the dry tone of the first half of the pharagraph mesh a little better with the more heady conclusion? also, use more than just a comma to string your sentances along... even a minor change, from 'Her bra was next to the bed, her underwear nowhere in sight.' to 'Her bra was next to the bed, [but] her underwear [was] nowhere in sight.' is a lot more accessable and has a better flow to it. throw some 'as' and 'when's in too, to remind the reader that SHE's looking around and seeing these things.

[ QUOTE ]
and walked over to the open closet door, its mirror reflecting the bed and sleeping man.

[/ QUOTE ]
though this isn't technically switching from past tense to present in the middle of a sentance, it's awkward... remember to avoid using passive voice (B was done by A) whenever possible- active voice is usually better (A did B) until you get you're feet wet. the mirror shouldn't be the actor in this sentance- it's the man...

[ QUOTE ]
the foul navy carpet. What a shithole. Abbey paused

[/ QUOTE ]

you do this a couple of times... switch from a third person narritive to a first person commentary within a pharagraph. it's okay, but you need to italicize it, put it in quotations, something. also, 'shithole' is a little too vulgar, IMO, it will make the reader dislike the speaker/character

[ QUOTE ]
Abbey imagined how it had played out, using the placement of the clothes to piece together the sequence. Like a murder detective. / No note on the nightstand, no number for him to call. Like it never happened.

[/ QUOTE ]

awkward again... you're using a technique, stringing together little kernal sentances, each with an image within, which connects their meanings in the minds of readers. Then you stop. (see? awkward) the change throws a casual reader off-balance... not working for me.

okay, a couple little changes that i'd reccomend:
-don't start so many pharagraphs the same way.
-"the man snored" - 'the man was snoring'
-"The silver and grey comforter and sky blue top sheet had been thrown off the bed, the bottom sheet was pulled off the far corner of the mattress." i like this a lot- don't miss an oppurtunity to throw in little contrasting imagry to highlight the sense of disorginization and familarity in the scene, how about 'The silver-grey comforter and sky blue blanket had been thrown off the bed, the earthy, green sheet had exposed the corner of the mattress.' see? blue/green, earth/sky, the 'and' connects silver-grey with sky blue, both are balanced by the green... i don't have enough time to make it just right, but you see where i'm going.
-"from her art history class sophomore year" - 'from her sophomore year art history class' or 'from the art history class that she had taken her sophomore year'
-"the hallway outside was musty and dimly lit" - 'the musty hallway outside wis dimly lit' or 'a single bult lit the musty hallway outside dimly' the more active the voice used, the better. (active is A did B, passive is B was done by A)
-you shouldn't use 'slipped' twice in one pharagraph, abby's running around slipping everything... huh?
-"His strong bare chest expanded and contracted with his slow breathing." what the heck else would it be expanding and contracting with? simplify.
-"the night before a fragmented mess..." WAS a fragmented mess...
-the whole 'mr galer' thing... i dunno why it doesen't do it for me, but it doesn't.

Okay, that should be enough to get you started. i can tell that you have a style and are working to develop it, which is good, but you are also falling into a lot of traps- using passive voice, kernal sentances, being redundant in order to create your flow... remember that good stories don't just come out, they are obsessivly edited and re-structured. often a writer starts out with one intention, and after they've got a draft down, they realize that the story has gotten away from them, that new possibilities have been revealed that are more intresting and poetic than the original attempt... go with those, tie your piece together thematicly around the 'murder dective' passage, or the missing underwear, or the sex... maybe throw in a little film nior...

it has the makings of a good little piece of prose. I know i've given a lot of advice, i don't want to change the whole thing for you. feel free to ignore any or all of what i've written (except the part about passive voice- it drives proffesors nuts). GL

[Dominic]

My qualifications for critiquing your writing:

BA in English
MFA in Communications Art
Taught Comp 101 and Beginning Screenwriting at Cal State Northridge
Sold three screenplays

I like it. You have a nice style...I liked the brief flashback to Art class the best. "It was an easy A." Nice.

Though you have an obvious knack for detail, perhaps this piece could use just a touch less...I realize you're setting the scene but the part where "The sky blue comforter" begins seems like too much detail. Overload.

Condense. Maybe something like, "The comforter had been tossed off the bed and in one corner the bottom sheet was pulled free from the mattress."

Not perfect, but I think you get my drift. Go through it again and lose 5% of the words.

Tighten
Tighten
Tighten

Overall though, I like it. Nice to see a college student who takes his writing class seriously. You have talent.

[Dominic]

[ QUOTE ]
Based on my experience with college-level writing, this is very good work. I have one quick reaction: you might consider revising the opening sentence. We gather that Abbey is well acquainted with one-night stands, and from experience prefers avoiding morning-after awkardness. Given this, I would expect her awakening to be a cautious, probing affair. "Brushing back matted hair" and "crawling out of bed" give me visuals of nonchalance, even comfortable carelessness.

But that's just me. Again, good work.

[/ QUOTE ]

Good critique.

[thatpfunk]

Yikes Dominic, those are some qualifications...

I need to start sending you stuff /images/graemlins/tongue.gif

[Dominic]

[ QUOTE ]
Yikes Dominic, those are some qualifications...

I need to start sending you stuff /images/graemlins/tongue.gif

[/ QUOTE ]

LOL....you better not!

[Popinjay]

http://www.bustedtees.com/images/prose.artwork.olive.product_artwork.jpg

A little too much description for me but I like it for the most part. I'd like to hear more from Abbey those were by far the most enjoyable parts.

[PokerFink]

Thanks a lot for your comments everyone. I really appreciate it, even if you don't have much of a writing/literature backround. It's good to get a diverse opinion.

It's funny how different parts get positive and negative feedback from different people. I'll take a very close look at all the comments and see what I want to change.

Perhaps I'll post the other 2 parts tomorrow.

Dominic,

Do you have any suggestions for lit mags that I could submit this to? I know it won't get published, but I'm curious if I could atleast get feedback. Even if I just get a letter saying "this sucked," well then atleast they read it, and thats a start.

[thatpfunk]

Warning, HiJack:

Dominic, did anything come out of the screenplays you sold? Anything we might be familiar with?

[Brainwalter]

[ QUOTE ]
Warning, HiJack:

Dominic, did anything come out of the screenplays you sold? Anything we might be familiar with?

[/ QUOTE ]

Backdoor Sluts 9? /images/graemlins/grin.gif

[purnell]

I'm surprised to find that I like your style. My only critique is of the first sentence. It would be better without the phrase "wrecked from a sweaty night of dancing, partying and sex". Just remove the phrase and tack the sentence to the beginning of the first paragraph.

[JaBlue]

overall some pretty good work.

A couple comments:

in the third to last paragraph delete "Like a murder detective." first of all, it isn't a sentence by itself and second of all its trite.

the changing points of view don't make any sense. i.e. you write "abbey does this, abbey does that" and then all of the sudden you italicize her thoughts? What gives?

Again, good writing, keep pluggin' away.

[The Dude]

You seem to be a little too fond of adjectives. Good description - I was very easily able to form a vivid picutre of what was going on, but the adjectives were a little too interruptive to the flow. Here are two examples where I think you can cut out:

Overall, this is good writing, especially at the college level.
- Abbey brushed back her matted blonde hair...
I think you can cut out "blonde." It's not critical to this scene for the reader to be reminded of Abbey's hair color, and the sentance flows much better without it.

- His strong bare chest expanded and contracted with his slow breathing.
I think you can nix "strong" and "slow" and not lose anything from the experience. You may choose to keep the latter if you want the reader to know she feels physically threatened by his strength (this is the first scene so I'm assuming the reader has had no prior descriptions of the characters), but the latter doesn't add anything the reader can't fill in on his own.

[bort411]

Omit the first sentence.

Otherwis this looks pretty solid.

[LaggyLou]

Lose the "doesn't matter, anyway". It's clear from the rest of the story that it doesn't matter.

[tbach24]

Coming from an entertainment standpoint, I liked it. It kept my attention, not many things do. But it could be the adderrall...

[Dominic]

An independent film of one of my scripts is being shot this summer - it's called "Frank &amp; Ellie," and it's starring Christopher Walken (hopefully). If we get a distrivutor you can be sure I'll tell you guys all about it so you can go see it and help make it a big hit!

I've written and directed some TV crap I'm not all that proud of and you might've seen (a TV movie starring Harry Hamlin and the TV series "Dave"), but the other feature screenplays I've sold were never produced. That's the norm in Hollywood - most screenplays that are bought are never made.

[Dominic]

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Warning, HiJack:

Dominic, did anything come out of the screenplays you sold? Anything we might be familiar with?

[/ QUOTE ]

Backdoor Sluts 9? /images/graemlins/grin.gif

[/ QUOTE ]

HA!

Actually, you can check out my other, more um...."artsy" work (yeah, that's it!) in the adult section of your local video store...

If you like girl-on-girl stuff with ridiculously hot babes..."By Invitation Only" might be your cup of tea...you'll see my fake, porno name on there - "Dominik Allen."

The movie stars Justine Jolie and Jana Cova, for all you pervs out there.

[Dominic]

[ QUOTE ]
Thanks a lot for your comments everyone. I really appreciate it, even if you don't have much of a writing/literature backround. It's good to get a diverse opinion.

It's funny how different parts get positive and negative feedback from different people. I'll take a very close look at all the comments and see what I want to change.

Perhaps I'll post the other 2 parts tomorrow.

Dominic,

Do you have any suggestions for lit mags that I could submit this to? I know it won't get published, but I'm curious if I could atleast get feedback. Even if I just get a letter saying "this sucked," well then atleast they read it, and thats a start.

[/ QUOTE ]

Go to your local bookstore (or Amazon) and buy the latest edition of "The Writer's Market" book...it will have every conceivable magazine out there that is looking for submissions - and all the various rules and guidelines you will need to follow for each one. They will also include which ones pay and how much!

Good luck!

[ZZZ]

I enjoyed the read.

"...like a lion..." is a bit hokey IMO. I agree with other posters that it's adjective-heavy as well.


ZZZ

[Brown Thumb]

I thought the premise was good. Here is a proposed "Brown Thumb" rewrite:

Abbey brushed back her matted blonde hair, wrecked from a sweaty night of online poker and smoking P.O.T., and crawled from the bed.

The man snored, but it wasn’t a manly snore, it was a sissy snore. It sounded more like someone sucking c.o.k. than anything else. His unkempt bleached hair ran from the crack of his ass to the back of his neck; his scruffy face lay on a pillow clutched vertically against his chest by a pair of strong, muscular arms – of course, those were someone else’s arms … he was not alone. He was cute, in a fruity way, mid to late twenties, a few years older than Abbey. What was his name, anyway? Joe? Jon? Jake? Definitely something with a J. Justin? Actually, it was Phil McCrackin, but that doesn’t matter, anyway.

The large red numbers on his black alarm clock glowed 4:14 – the night before a fragmented mess in Abbey’s mind, scattered about her memory like sands through the hourglass; these were the days of their lives. Piecing together her outfit would be easy, but the night was iridescent like the snail tracks in her pants.

The man stirred, rolled over and grunted something: “Goddamn two-outer. Goddamn two-outer! I was trying to trap with top-two and went for the check-raise on the turn, the bastard took the free card … Bastard hit his gutshot. Oh well, he would have called anyway, those 1 / 2 players will call anything.”

She instinctively answered, “You misplayed that hand, even if he doesn’t lay down on the turn and still sucks out, you missed a bet for value. [censored], you had a lot of equity in that pot, you gotta protect it son!” Damn (sottovoce), she covered her mouth and recoiled in horror.

Oh [censored]. Don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up. Do not, under any circumstances, wake the fcuk up. An agonizing minute passed. Then another. Abbey stood frozen in horror and watched him, silently praying he would stay asleep. She only had enough for one bong load, and it had her name all over it. She was amazed that he could speak so coherently in his sleep; his recollection of the bad beat was uncanny. He remained asleep, his bunk-mate was non-the-wiser.

Abbey glanced around the man’s bedroom. Posters of Broadway shows, Top Gun and Bett Midler decorated the walls, covering up the dirty fading blue paint. A Ricky Martin poster hung over the bathroom door, its shimmering, formless face looking out at her from its center amidst the mountains and beaches of a world conjured up by his twisted mind. Abbey remembered the piece from her pop history class sophomore year, Apparition of Farce, and Fruity Dish in Bed. Mr. Galer had taught that class. “You’re pretty ugly” he once said to her. “but if you got some P.O.T., I’ll roll it up into a fatty and smoke it P-dipped (like Monica Lewinsky)” It was an easy A.

Her black laptop case lay at the foot of the bed, her Logitech keyboard upside down against the far wall. Her wireless router was next to the bed, her optical mouse nowhere in sight. His clothes formed a small pile on a worn grey recliner against the wall, his bright blue shirt in sharp contrast to the bacon-strips on his white briefs. Condom wrappers, a cigarette butt, amyl nitrate and a lighter littered his nightstand next to the clock.

The silver and grey comforter and sky blue top sheet had been thrown off the bed, the bottom sheet was pulled off the far corner of the mattress. It had obviously been rough. Just the way they like it. Abbey imagined how it had played out, using the placement of everything to piece together the sequence. The laptop had been set up on the coffee table, the keyboard and mouse were set on the couch. From the mark on the wall, she could tell the keyboard was thrown with significant force … God knows where the mouse went.

She didn’t have to get all “C.S.I.” to imagine the man sex – rough, hard pounding … like a boxing match … 12 rounds of exchanging blows. There was probably an indent in the wall where the headboard kept banging – she didn’t think either one would be walking for days. The man grunted something again in his sleep. “Two-outer, two-outer.” She searched and fumbled for a joke referencing the movie “Better off Dead,” but it was not to be.

Abbey slipped back into her dress, jammed her laptop into its case, and walked over to the open closet door, its mirror reflecting the bed and sleeping men. The mirror confirmed her suspicion: she was sharing a room with two homos. This was the last time she was booking with Travelocity.

Her tousled hair was going every which way, especially in the back, and her makeup was smeared. The slit in her dress had ripped up half an inch. She fired up a monster bowl. I look like a banshee, but at least it’s a banshee smoking a monster bowl. She tip-toed over to the nightstand to pick up her purse, and found a NETELLER password sticking out from under the bed. She slipped it into her bag, and headed out the door into the hallway.

The hallway outside was musty and dimly lit. Brown paint chipped from the doors onto the foul navy carpet. What a shithole. This was almost as bad as Poo Mountain and their lame freerolls. Abbey paused at the door and took one more look at the wrecked bed, the naked, nameless men and their bedroom, and furtively made her retreat down the stairs. No note on the nightstand, no number for them to call. Just a copy of Ed Miller’s new book to assuage her guilt-ridden conscience.

[nolanfan34]

[ QUOTE ]
Abbey slipped back into her dress, jammed her laptop into its case, and walked over to the open closet door, its mirror reflecting the bed and sleeping men. The mirror confirmed her suspicion: she was sharing a room with two homos. This was the last time she was booking with Travelocity.

[/ QUOTE ]

Classic! This rewrite is very good, well done. LMAO.