Opening/Editing A Story
Free post: example on how to edit your work
This story is almost complete and will be sent out soon. I wanted to show you my thought process on opening a story and editing in general.
Hopefully there are things in here which can help you in your own writing, whether it be for work, education, or your own ficiton.
be well,
heyall
Original:
[ignore typos]
[stories can start anywhere, but i felt this story works best as a fast retelling because it covers the span of a few months, so i wanted to start with the main character being an established FBI agent and then talking about her past]
I spent the early part of my FBI career eating pussy for the city’s most prominent business women. At the time no one knew about it, but it was heavily implied that it was part of my official task. Do I regret my involvement? No, in fact I often think fondly of it. I’d never subject my current trainees to those types of activities but I can honestly say that it changed my life for the better.
Here’s what happened:
The year was 2018 and I was surrounded by family at Quantico, Virgina for the modest cermony. I’d successfully graduated from the Acadamy and had become an FBI agent like my retired father. Where most graduates beamed with pride, I found myself being lukeward over the whole thing. It was an undeniable achievement, my family was so proud, especially my dad, and I felt like I’d accomplished something just being there.
On the other hand, despite my belief in justice, dealing with hardened criminals for the rest of my life wasn’t exactly appealing. I had lingering doubts about how much negative information I could take. Plus I’d been informeced that I was being assigned to a field office on the other side of the country, a place known for freezing temperatres, I might add.
Life’s first major twist came as I was leaving the ceremony with my family. We were headed to my favirte pizza place when an FBI agent in a suit stopped us and asked for a moment of my time. I’d seen men like him before, hard edge, straight faced, but I’d never met him before. Agent Esparza was his name.
In a private room he congratulated me for the tremendous accomplishment, which I could tell he was trying to butter me up, then he laid it on me.
“This is going to be fast. You’re very attractive. I went through your social media and you’ve got great style. Do you want a counter-intelligence assignment working at a fashion place? It’ll bolster your career within the ranks. Yes or no?”
I remember studying the lines on Agent Esparza’s face. Nothing moved. Counter-intelligence? No wonder he was so strict, I remember thinking, because those guys don’t mess around. I needed to answer right then and there, but all I could think about was my family waiting in the auditorium for us to get pizza.
“Dangerous?” I asked.
“No.”
“What’s the assignment about?”
“You’ll get briefed once you agree. I’m running the op. Yes or no?”
A month later I got a tiny apartment in Manhattan with a new idenity and a small amount of cash to support myself. Everything happened so fast that it was hard to process. I spent years in a quiet area of Virginia training to be an agent, then preparing for myself mentally for a boring small town assignment in the cold, now I was in the middle of the action.
September of that year I’d gotten a job working for Madame Isabelle at the French boutique on the outskirts of downtown. It was a gorgeous place, a haven of luxery and a slice of European elegence. It combined cultural enchantment with modern amenities. They used hand-crafted wooden futniture alongside the latest electronics. As the name of the place suggested, every article of clothing was importated from France, from big name designer brands to hand-tailored garments.
All I had to do was personally hand her my resume, flaunt my figure, use my charm, and the job was mine a month later. I’d worked retail and customer service before so passing Madame Isabelle’s tests were easy. The interview process couldn’t have gone smoother. I suppose that was the reason Agent Esparza chose me for this job, though he never outright said it, because I have skills which aren’t taught at the acadamy.
She was the target, by the way, for wittingly or unwittingly, being a hub where ‘friendly’ nations passed information amongst their spies. I was there to keep tabs. Because they weren’t classified as threats and I wasn’t in danger, I didn’t have any real backup aside from Agent Esparza as my point person.
Once everything was set I hit the ground running. 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. There was less than a dozen employees who rotated shifts. I worked the job like any else, maybe even better because I was afraid of being let go.
The job was, in many ways, a life I could have enivishmed myself living. Simple, honoest work with positive vibes. Clients were always lovely and I enjoyed so many new people everyday. The pay was great. My colleagues were around the same age and we clicked immediately. We had lunch together everyday and we talked about everything during off hours. Friends, basically.
My official job with the FBI had me keeping a close eye on Madame Isabelle’s contancts, specifically who she talked to, who came into the backrooms, that sort of thing. One of my gifts is having a sharp memory so it was routine to get back to my apartment write things down since I didn’t want to get caught taking pictures. We didn’t have a warrent at that point, so bugging devices were out of the quesiton.
Breakdown:
[ignore typos]
I spent the early part of my FBI career eating pussy for the city’s most prominent business women. [opening line is a banger, gets people hooked in, i hope]
At the time no one knew about it, but it was heavily implied that it was part of my official task. [could use work]
Do I regret my involvement? No, in fact I often think fondly of it. I’d never subject my current trainees to those types of activities but I can honestly say that it changed my life for the better. [this is fine]
Here’s what happened:
The year was 2018 and I was surrounded by family at Quantico, Virgina for the modest cermony. I’d successfully graduated from the Acadamy and had become an FBI agent like my retired father. Where most graduates beamed with pride, I found myself being lukeward over the whole thing. It was an undeniable achievement, my family was so proud, especially my dad, and I felt like I’d accomplished something just being there. [the reason I included family references and father’s background is because it gives some humianity to the main character, makes her relatable, vulnerable… the writing is fine]
On the other hand, despite my belief in justice, dealing with hardened criminals for the rest of my life wasn’t exactly appealing. I had lingering doubts about how much negative information I could take. Plus I’d been informeced that I was being assigned to a field office on the other side of the country, a place known for freezing temperatres, I might add. [this paragraph feels overly long and needs some trimming]
Life’s first major [feels clunky, so i cut out ‘first’ ] twist came as I was leaving the ceremony with my family. We were headed to my favirte pizza place when an FBI agent in a suit stopped us and asked for a moment of my time. I’d seen men like him before, hard edge, straight faced, but I’d never met him before. Agent Esparza was his name.
In a private room he congratulated me for the tremendous accomplishment, which I could tell he was trying to butter me up, then he laid it on me.
“This is going to be fast. You’re very attractive. I went through your social media and you’ve got great style. Do you want a counter-intelligence assignment working at a fashion place? It’ll bolster your career within the ranks. Yes or no?” [this is meant to be written quick, but i find it too formal, i changed some of the wording, as you’ll see below]
I remember studying the lines on Agent Esparza’s face. Nothing moved. Counter-intelligence? No wonder he was so strict, I remember thinking, because those guys don’t mess around. I needed to answer right then and there, but all I could think about was my family waiting in the auditorium for us to get pizza [redundant]. [everything else is fine]
“Dangerous?” I asked.
“No.”
“What’s the assignment about?”
“You’ll get briefed once you agree. I’m running the op. Yes or no?”
A month later I got a tiny apartment in Manhattan with a new idenity and a small amount of cash to support myself. Everything happened so fast that it was hard to process.[needs better wording] I spent years in a quiet area of Virginia training to be an agent, then preparing for myself mentally for a boring small town assignment in the cold, now I was in the middle of the action. [redundant]
September of that year I’d gotten a job working for Madame Isabelle at the French boutique on the outskirts of downtown. It was a gorgeous place, a haven of luxery and a slice of European elegence. It combined cultural enchantment with modern amenities. They used hand-crafted wooden futniture alongside the latest electronics. [redudant] As the name of the place suggested,[not necessary] every article of clothing was importated from France, from big name designer brands to hand-tailored garments.
All I had to do was personally hand her my resume, flaunt my figure, use my charm, and the job was mine a month later. [redundant] I’d worked retail and customer service before so passing Madame Isabelle’s tests were easy. The interview process couldn’t have gone smoother. I suppose that was the reason Agent Esparza chose me for this job, though he never outright said it, because I have skills which aren’t taught at the acadamy.
She was the target, by the way, for wittingly or unwittingly, being a hub where ‘friendly’ nations passed information amongst their spies. I was there to keep tabs. Because they weren’t classified as threats and I wasn’t in danger, I didn’t have any real backup aside from Agent Esparza as my point person. [needs some slight revisions, as you’ll see below, and I added the part of not having a warrant here, which originally appeared lower]
Once everything was set I hit the ground running. 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. There was less than a dozen employees who rotated shifts. I worked the job like any else, maybe even better because I was afraid of being let go.
The job was, in many ways, a life I could have enivishmed myself living. Simple, honoest work with positive vibes. Clients were always lovely and I enjoyed so many new people everyday. The pay was great. My colleagues were around the same age and we clicked immediately. We had lunch together everyday and we talked about everything during off hours. Friends, basically. [this part feels redundant and unecessary, just saying that she became friends with her coworkers felt enough, so i combined the paragraphs]
My official job with the FBI had me keeping a close eye on Madame Isabelle’s contancts, specifically who she talked to, who came into the backrooms, that sort of thing. One of my gifts is having a sharp memory so it was routine to get back to my apartment write things down since I didn’t want to get caught taking pictures. We didn’t have a warrent at that point, so bugging devices were out of the quesiton. [this paragraph is unecessary and repetative, so i combined the part of not having a warrant up above]
Final:
[this is the final version, as you can see it’s much cleaner while saying the same things, but with less words. that’s always the goal. be as clean as possible… but don’t be so simple that you’re insulting the reader’s intelligence. there still might be a few final changes before release, i always make small changes here and there]
I spent the early part of my FBI career eating pussy for the city’s most prominent business women. No one pressured me into doing it, but that was my implied job. Do I regret my involvement? No, in fact I often reminisce on those days. I’d never subject my current trainees to those types of activities but I can honestly say that it changed my life for the better.
Here’s what happened:
The year was 2018 and I was surrounded by family at Quantico, Virgina for the modest ceramony. I’d successfully graduated from the Academy and had become an FBI agent like my retired father. Where most graduates beamed with pride, I found myself being lukewarm over the whole thing. It was an undeniable achievement, my family was so proud, especially my dad, and I felt like I’d accomplished something by just being there.
On the other hand, despite my belief in the justice system, dealing with hardened criminals for the rest of my life wasn’t exactly appealing. Plus I’d been assigned to a field office on the other side of the country, away from my family and friends, to a place known for freezing temperatures.
Life’s major twist came as I was leaving the ceremony with my family. We were headed to my favorite pizza place when an FBI agent in a suit stopped us and wanted for a moment of my time. I’d seen men like him before, hard edge, straight faced, but I’d never met him before. Agent Esparza was his name. The man who changed my life.
In a private room he congratulated me for the tremendous accomplishment, which I could tell he was trying to butter me up, then he laid it on me.
“This will be quick. I went through your social media and you’ve got style. You’re very attractive. Do you want a counter-intelligence assignment at a fashion place? It’ll bolster your career within the ranks. Interested? Yes or no?”
I remember studying the lines on Agent Esparza’s face. Nothing moved. Counter-intelligence? No wonder he was so strict, I remember thinking, because those guys don’t mess around. I needed to answer right then and there, but all I could think about was my family waiting in the auditorium.
“Dangerous?” I asked.
“No.”
“What’s the assignment about?”
“You’ll get briefed once you agree. I’m running the op. New York. Yes or no?”
A month later I got a tiny apartment in Manhattan with a new identity and some cash to support myself. By early September the plan came to fruition and I’d gotten the job working for Madame Isabelle at the French boutique. It was a gorgeous place, a haven of luxury with a slice of European elegance. Everything there was imported from France, from big name designer brands to hand-tailored garments.
I’d worked retail and customer service in my youth so passing Madame Isabelle’s tests were easy. The interview process couldn’t have gone smoother. I suppose that was the reason Agent Esparza chose me for this job, though he never outright said it, because I have skills which aren’t taught at the academy.
She was the target, by the way, suspected of -- wittingly or unwittingly -- operating a hub where ‘friendly’ nations passed information amongst their spies. I was there to keep tabs. To dig deeper. I didn’t have backup aside from Agent Esparza because this was a preliminary investigation. We also didn’t have a warrant yet so wiretaps were out of the question.
Once everything was set I hit the ground running. It was a typical 9-5 job, the kind you’d see at any clothing store, only with stricter standards and a demanding clientele. There were less than a dozen employees who rotated shifts and I eventually considered several of them to be friends. In many ways, that simple life was the life I’d always envisioned for myself, before joining law enforcement. Working alongside friends, dealing with interesting people, then going home to leave it all behind.
/end