So below is a copy of the two short stories I submitted to my creative writing course along with critique from the tutor.  I have no clue how I’m going to handle the second draft.  Do I tackle both or do I tackle one of them?

The first is one I’ve posted on here already called “Run, Fatty, Run” and the second is one I tried to write but couldn’t get into for some reason, so ended up tweeking fatty and then just posting that.  So enjoy!! 

The majority is just grammar etc so that helps a lot because I know my grammar is awful.

“Run, fatty, run!!!” there <You might want to capitalize there.> was an urgency in Ali’s tone, <period> our foot steps <footsteps> made loud slapping noises against the wet tarmac, <period> the occasional splash of a puddle would soak the outside of our shoes, seeping inwards until our toes were numb from cold. <I love how you start out right in the middle of the action.>

The packs on our backs rattled with pills and other supplies, <period> the headlights of our saviour <savior> were up ahead, <period> the click of a radio sparked to life, <period> a beep announced an incoming message, <period> Nick was panting, out of breath down the line… “How far?” he <He> sounded on the brink of collapse. Ali shouted back, “NOT FAR!!! Run!!!”

The ever increasing <ever-increasing> sense of impending doom wormed its way to my heart,<period> the running, the energy <dash> it was beginning to take its toll, <period> the truck that lay ahead waiting for our safe return was a welcoming sight, <period> the steel fence in front of it was not. I threw myself against the cold metal, <and> the diamond links bent outwards with the force, <period> my hands immediately cupped against one and other <one another> ready for Ali to make his death defying leap to the top of the fence, <period> his wet shoe landed directly in the palms of my hand and although my strength is <was> limited, I heaved Ali’s weight upwards, helping him to the top, <period> the fence was at least ten feet high and was the only safe way to fool what was chasing us, <period> they couldn’t climb, <period> they could move at a fair pace but they couldn’t climb or cross running water. Perhaps it’s some biblical thing, <intriguing!> we didn’t know, we just knew that some people were immune and we only risked city areas to get supplies, medical or otherwise. Most of the time we didn’t need to make such a dangerous run but these things had begun moving in on our home turf, <period> we needed weapons and the only places that had weapons were police stations or <and> military bases. For us, Police Stations <does this need to be capitalized?> were the easiest option… <I love all the action and imagery here in this paragraph. You might want to break up this paragraph into a few different paragraphs.>

“Guys!!!” <Pills> pills rattled around in Nick’s back pack <backpack> like an inebriated rattle snake had become trapped inside <Fantastic simile! The wording is a bit awkward. Maybe something like: as if an inebriated rattlesnake was trapped inside>, <period> I was already halfway up the fence when I saw it, <Or saw them?> <period> they were gaining on Nick, soulless, animated corpses, flesh bags with <only> one thing on their mind, <colon> Survivor Pâté.
I looked up towards Ali who had now straddled the fence and took his hand. He pulled upwards as my free hand caught in the chain links and my left foot used <The wording is a bit awkward. Maybe: and with my left food, I used the wall for leverage.> the wall for leverage. <You might want to split this paragraph into a few different paragraphs. It’s one way to add a sense of urgency to the action.> I was now facing Ali atop the fence; <period> we’d done this run at least six times now. Nick’s flash light <flashlight> was bouncing up and down in the distance, <period> then a clatter of pills sounded and a skidding of fabric scraping against rough tarmac <the previous phrasing “a skidding of fabric scraping” is a bit awkward. You might want to restructure this.>, <period> the light fell from its holder to the ground with Nick, <period> I had just begun to move to get down from the fence when Ali grabbed me, stopping me, <period> I started to protest but the light had rolled into a position that allowed us to see <them>, three, no five, no twelve and increasing… <A>. a wave of undead in different stages of decomposition had filtered into the long alley way <alleyway> to our freedom. <”to our freedom” is somewhat awkward. You might want to phrase that differently.> That’s when I heard Ali say it… “Fatty’s dead people chow, now…”

I couldn’t believe it, what I’d just heard <Or you could say “I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard>…. There was a cry from Nick, “Puppy!! Help!!” <He’d> he’d seen <that> Ali was now heading towards the car who’s <You might want to start a new sentence here: The horn was> horn was sounding at an alarmed rate,<period> I knew what our driver was thinking, <period> the alley and the fence were visible from the spot Ali had just reached as he ducked into the back seat, throwing the bag in first <The previous sentence is a bit awkward. You might want to restructure it.>… I looked back towards Nick in time to see the first of them reach him. I’d seen the scene so many times before, <period> there are some you can save and others you can’t… it’s the ones you can’t that haunt you. <Good.>

A petrified scream sounded from Nick’s direction, <period> the pit of my stomach swam with guilt as I slid to safety on the other side of the fence, <period> the screams became more frantic and panicked, <period> the horde had surrounded him and began to tear him limb from limb, <period> the alley was plunged into darkness as the fallen flashlight became engulfed by the ungodly scene. <Great imagery here!>

Now was the time to move, <period> when they’d finished, <Maybe: After they finished> they may very well take down the fence with sheer force trying to get to us, <period> five or six of them would be no problem for the fence to keep at bay but en masse, our preferred route would be very much void <Maybe a different word other than void.> next time around.
The pills in my backpack rattled with seeming excitement <Great image!> as I reached the safety of the car,<period> I threw the bag at Ali in the back seat, <period> perhaps we could have done something but I wouldn’t know now because Ali had made the decision for us. Nick had to be sacrificed; we’d more than likely pick up his backpack on the next run into the city.

Every loss, <you don’t need a comma there> is another loss that damns the human race forever.

The driver turned to look at us “Two out of three? Not what I was expecting.”

“<Just> just drive <comma> fuckwit<comma>” came the response from Ali and I had to agree,<period> our designated driver for the night? Dampboy, a rather excitable penis who tended to go off on one at the most inopportune moments <Do you mean: he tended to go off at the most inopportune moments”?>. You’ll see what I mean,<period> liability is his middle name.

“Home<comma> Jeeves!” I said as I peered back one last time towards the fence we’d just leapt over. Only darkness there now and an unearthly chorus of groans and gargles,<period><Fantastic imagery!> the screaming had stopped while we’d been trying to get Dampy to drive us back to the others.

Ali patted me on the shoulder as we picked up speed, <period> he has the kinda of strength for this job, I know it affects him but he never lets it show. I don’t know how he does it.<You did a wonderful job creating specific scenes in this tale. And I enjoyed your imagery. >

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The story that never was ….
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Good Virgins Are Hard To Find

A mirror <dash> the realms of fantasy would have you believe mirrors are doorways to magical worlds where time stands still, speeds up and slows down on a whim. Realms with wondrous places to discover; races, creeds, potential friends, allies and enemies to share adventures with.

Not for Sophia Trent,<period> for Sophia the mirror was a truth teller. A doorway to herself and the hurtful comments of the day. Most believe that bullying ends from the moment you leave school,<period> the popular kids have gone their separate ways <You might want to rephrase this. Maybe: The outcasts and the popular kids go their separate ways> and you are free! Not for Sophia.

She took a deep calming breath before turning on <I’m not sure what you mean by “turning on”> the stool in front of the dresser, <period> it groaned under the pressure, the weight that had descended upon it. <Maybe: as the weight descended upon it.> A horrified gasp escaped Sophia’s lips.

“Bitch!!” she seethed, her body tensed, the lumps and bumps of her heavy frame rumbled <rumbling> with rage.

However, she could never stay angry for long, <period> what could a fat lump like Sophia do? She took a tissue and wiped away the lipstick on the mirror that formed a pigs <pig’s> snout where her nose and mouth should be, <period> her reflex ion was flush <flushed> with the anger, rage, hate that had bubbled to the surface within her. The round face sad and without any real tells of emotion. <The previous sentence is a bit awkward. You might want to rework it.>

Tonight was different however,<Period> her radical plan had paid off. “Someone out there will want to stuff a whale<comma>” came the voice of her roommate as she posted the auction. <Maybe say: as Sophia posted the auction, unless the roommate posted the auction.>

“20 something – Virgin, looking for love in a world that takes ‘heart’ for granted” Sophia was literally selling herself on an auction site. She had rules though, <period> four dates and on New Year’s Eve that’s when she would give her Suitor her gift, her present. The world had been so cruel to her in her 29 years of life and since she could not find love, she may as <well> be proactive and make money from her sexually dormant void.

<Little did she know, her buyer, BigBoy24, would wine and dine her like a queen,<period> tonight was the night. <So this isn’t their first date? You might want to specify that they’ve dated for a while at this point.> New Year’s Eve 2010<comma> a night to remember and she felt so lucky, the one thing she’d done that had worked out for the better. <The previous sentence is a bit awkward.> 2011 was going to be an amazing year filled with happiness and hopefully Liposuction, <period> her new man was loaded but he appeared to love her for who she was. Mobility scooter and all.

This date was different, <period> the night <Tonight> she was going to be deflowered <period> Sophia was going to meet the mother of her new soon to be <soon-to-be> lover, <period> a quiet New Years in with the potential in law? Doesn’t <You might want to make this past tense, for the sake of consistency: This didn’t seem quite as romantic> seem quite as romantic as she intended but she wanted to keep BigBoy24 happy, her first and she felt, last shot at love.

<Maybe: For 29 years, life had been unkind to her> Life had been unkind and just as she had lost hope;<comma> a life line was thrown her way in the form of a rugged young and wealthy man with movie star looks, an accent to die for and thankfully a pickup truck. <The story might benefit from more specific details here. What are some of his features? What sort of truck?> Sophia had to sit on the canvas at the back, <period> god bless reinforced suspension on a working man’s vehicle.

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It began with a sharp sting to the face, the left cheek to be precise, followed by a sharp scratching as the ring on the hand that hand just struck her scraped along the flesh causing it to bleed. <This sentence is a bit awkward, although this is fantastic imagery. You might want to restructure the sentence. Maybe split up the action into two sentences.>

Sophia Trent found herself in a haze, struggling to focus on what she could only assume was the horrid brown fleur de lie wallpaper that she’d witnessed when she had first entered the home of one Sam Reginald Stout aka BigBoy24, a horrid 70’s style terraced home which she vaguely remembered having a copious amount of ugly looking garden gnomes along the path to the front door. <Excellent specific imagery here.>

Sophia hated gnomes, horrid creatures in tales of fantasy and also in their commercial guise.<The last part of the previous sentence is a bit awkward.> She even hated Smurfs,<period> blue gnomes, that’s what they were. Gnomes trying to pass as something else but Sophia saw through the cartoon guise immediately. <Funny!>

“Wakey wakey<comma> dearie.” came the crippled and aged voice of Sam’s mother, a frail old lady whose varicose veins seemed to extend like a tattoo across her bare wrinkled arms, right up to the whites of her eyes. <Wonderful, vivid imagery!> She was like a road map with no specific destinations or points of interests. She reminded Sophia of the wicked queen in Snow White when she stalked the fair maiden with the poisoned apple. <Excellent imagery here!>

As irony would have it<comma> being caught unawares and drugged by a china cup of sleep is how Sophia wound up in this mess.

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Excellent, Clifford! These were both very imaginative tales. You did a great job writing specific scenes. And you’ve created some very vivid and fresh imagery. The imagery you wrote to describe Sam’s mother is especially fantastic. I’d recommend going back and describing Sam using a similar style. You might want to add even more sensory impressions, here and there, throughout the narratives. Also, if you wanted to expand on the second tale, you might want to write about some interactions between Sam and Sophia. You could write a scene about their first date, perhaps.

I’d love to read more of these tales.

And again, my comments throughout the critique are just ideas that may be able to help you during the rewriting process.

Keep up the wonderful work, Clifford.