First Paragraph

[herron]

    It was late August in 1962 when I first saw Albert Parker. After all this time, I still remember the year quite distinctly. It was my first teenage summer, life’s first great transition, and I had been waiting months for something special to happen, something magical. Something like having Marilyn Monroe show up on my doorstep. In my dreams she would ask me, in her breathless whisper, to take her. At the time, I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Hell, it didn’t matter. Just having her show up would have been enough, as long as the rest of the gang saw her. Of course, Marilyn never came to 722 Reichold Street in Brickdale. Albert did.

[A.W.M]

Sounds interesting, please continue.

[510bhan]

And then... [don't tell me - 2^nd paragraph  ]

[Tempered]

Hello

I think this is the first time I seen your writing. Nicely done on the opening para.

what I have to suggest can be just thrown away.

Myself I don't like messing with people's comma placement, but sometimes I find that one puts a pause where it feels it shouldn't

ie

After all this time I still remember the year. - just to keep the flow of connection between 'time' and 'still remember' the 'quite distinctly' i'm on the fence about, i think its strong enough that you remember and are willing to tell the reader. but that's just my thought.

'in my dreams she would ask me.' - the reason i think you should consider removing this 'dream' mention, is to keep it on the memory. Start right away with Marilyn's breathless whisper, so its a true special thing, even though I know it didn't happen, it brings her that much closer to the mc. so ie

She would ask me in her breathless whisper.....-  again the comma I am not on about, you want to keep the 'ask' and the 'whisper' together, not in separate moments.

I liked this, well written, smoothly voiced.

thanks for the read

[twisted wheel]

i liked it too - it felt natural. i won't crit here because i want to read more, but you've hooked me into knowing who albert is ...

[Alice, a Country Gal]

If this is the opening to a larger piece Herron, it's great. Actually, I like it no matter where it sits.

Good hook to make me want more. 

[WildCityWoman]

Hi, Ron - I'm Carly - a writer from  Toronto, Canada. Don't know if you've seen me online or not - I usually work under the user name of Wild City Woman or Wise Woman.

I visited your website; linked from your profile - you've a heart like me own, Laddie - photography, gardening . . . have a look at my forums (no longer writing forums), gardening, snappers, travel, books n' movies and just plain ole discussion.

Feel free to show your photos there, of course.

http://wildcity.proboards.com/index.cgi?

Anyway - about this paragraph of yours . . .

You'll see my suggestions in blue . . .

It was late August, '62,   in 1962 when I first saw Albert Parker. After all this time, I still remember the year quite distinctly. It was my first teenage summer, life’s first great transition, and I had been waiting months for something special to happen, something magical. Something like having Marilyn Monroe show up on my doorstep. In my dreams she would ask me, in (her) breathless whisper, to take her. At the time, I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Hell, it didn’t matter. Just having her show up would have been enough, as long as the rest of the gang saw her. Of course, Marilyn never came to 722 Reichold Street in Brickdale. Albert did.

Hope that helps you out. I'll poke a little something of my own in.

***********************************

[Emeraude]

Hey,

Good opener, certainly leaves the reader with more questions than answers about 'Albert' (something personally I like as a reader) so it's really making me what to know more about him and about where the narrative will go.

I'm looking forward to reading more =)

[herron]

Thanks, everyone.

I appreciate the feedback. Yes, it's the opening of short story that I'm working on. As soon as I get a second paragraph that I feel I can stop editing, I'll post a follow-up. 

[Strawberry]

  I like it.  The voice/flow seems smooth and natural.  I thought the part about him imagining Marilyn Monroe saying 'take me' and not knowing what it meant was funny.  If the rest of the story was there, I'd read it based off of this paragraph.

[herron]

Thanks.

I'm visiting my grandkids right now, and will post more when I get back.

FYI - tentative title of this one is simply "Albert."

[gooper]

I like it.

One thing: Do you really need "After all this time"?

[Maimi]

Hello Herron,

I like the way you left Albert hanging out there for us. Nice one.

[herron]

Got home late last night (early this morning, actually). Almost unpacked. Have more paragraphs ready. Need coffee.... 

[herron]

OK.  Paragraphs 1-3:

     It was late August in 1962 when I first saw Albert Parker. After all this time, I still remember the year quite distinctly. It was my first teenage summer, life’s first great transition, and I had been waiting months for something special to happen, something magical. Something like having Marilyn Monroe show up on my doorstep. In my dreams she would ask me in her breathless whisper to take her. At the time, I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Hell, it didn’t matter. Just having her show up would have been enough, as long as the rest of the gang saw her. Of course, Marilyn never came to 722 Reichold Street in Brickdale. Albert did.

     It was a humid, hurt-your-lungs-on-a-deep-breath morning. A blistering sun was rising over the railroad switching yard at the far end of the street. Its orange glare filtered through exhausted-looking trees. Sinuous heat ribbons shimmered over the motionless freight cars, subtly defining their rusty shapes like so many slumbering beasts.

     I was already sitting on the curb under the big oak, trying to find relief in occasional humid puffs of air, when a battered gray panel truck pulled up. A tortuous squeal signaled its stop across the street. An angular middle-aged man unwound from the driver’s seat. Sunlight lit the edges of his short brown curls that were rapidly turning gray, and gleamed brightly from his balding crown.