Jane
(I'm describing everyone who sat at the table)
Catherine kept switched seats with everyone so she could mingle the whole night. She made Johnny sit next to her when ever she switched. Jean sat down at the end of the triangular table. From the left side down sat Alex, Jolene, Mike. Alex was know as the bad boy with a short temper no one dared to challenge. Jolene was happy to sit between him and Mike because they were both extremely handsome. Mike was the sensitive bad boy type, he was a charming guy who was friends with everyone. The other side of the table sat Rachel, a bad seed, sat beside him drinking until she couldnât drink anymore. Next came Jon who was a bit of a player, who had a new girl with him every night. He was labeled as the quite alcoholic, he never fought with anyone but he was just as crazy as Alex if you bothered him. Then there was Lori. Definitely a slut, she always gave her love away to anyone who gave her attention. She was only allowed in the group because she was Jonâs cousin. Jon begged Catherine to let her hang out with them, just for that night of course.
(I realize this needs work, rewrite it and u win hehe. seriously tho give me tips)
Answer
You need to describe the people through one character's perspective. And where they sit is irrelevant isn't it? How does that move the plot along? Not only does it clutter the reader's mind with unnecessary and boring information but it takes away the reader's ability to imagine the set up themselves. And that's the whole fun of reading, to paint the picture in our minds.
I would throw in dialogue and action to get the plot moving along. But if you want to leave it all to exposition without the dialogue you still need to interject action in there to set the scene.
A potential rewrite could be the following though..take note..I didn't know who your narrator was so I named him Garret and I set up some back story to set the scene and such:
_________________________
Garret followed Catherine into the house on the corner of 5th and main. She had insisted he spend New Years Eve with his mates instead of squatting in his din cave of a flat down on Brooklyn's west side. She called it his hermit cave because it was the only occupied apartment on the second floor. He preferred the quiet though; a paradox if there ever was one. Every morning he would wake to the punctured shot of a car back firing or Mrs. Kreely's sickly husband coughing; the raspy dry heeves echoing through the heat ducts from the floor below. But still, it was his own, personal sanctuary, nothing like Jon's house. Jon rented a former fraternity house that had been recently renovated by the landlord. It was bright and spacious, though Garret suspected the lack of furniture was partly to blame.
He could hear the low chatter in the kitchen as they made their way through the foyer. They were, as always, the last to arrive. Catherine looked over her shoulder at Garret, offering him a smile that promised a fun and entertaining evening. He didn't doubt that it would be entertaining. Alex and Mike were there. Whenever those two were together it was sure to be a cockfight. Who would draw blood first? Alex no doubt, with his short temper that no one dared to challenge. But the winner would always be Mike; charming in his own intuitive way. He would sling one of his famous quips to ease the tension and remind everyone why he was always on the party list.
The kitchen was located in the new addition of the house just off the second floor overlooking Main street. Like the rest of the house, it was fairly empty; furnished only with Jon's latest kitchen gadgets, a dried up, withering plant, and a retro 1970's table that was missing the middle section and nailed together to form a triangular shape.
Catherine slid into the first unoccupied chair, greeting the group with her usual southern drawl. Despite popular belief, southerners weren't as laid back as one would think. At least Cat wasn't. She bounced over to the next seat as Garret nodded his greeting to Alex. And so it began with Cat's own rendition of musical chairs, skipping from seat to seat in rhythm to a tune only she could hear as she mixed and mingled with the group. Each time she switched her seat her hand would reach behind her, pulling Johnny along like an absent minded mother dragging her idle-brained tot.
But Jon didn't seem to mind. Always the player, he would seem to adorn himself with a new girl every night of the week. He always said that the quickest way to attract a woman was to wear a sprightly beauty on his arm. Women loved the competition, he'd say as he slowly drank himself into a quiet fog of intoxication. And he was right. It wasn't uncommon for him to calmly break up a cat fight spurred on by his latest arm ornament. He never fought with anyone, not even the jealous blokes at the pub who tried to pry his admirers away with idle threats. But despite his calm exterior everyone knew that he was just as crazy as Alex if provoked.
Alex was known as the bad boy of the group, like Mike. Both blessed with that handsome scruffiness that girls found irresistible. Jolene was no different. She was happy to sit in between them and flash her smile at whoever spared her the attention.
Garret looked across the table at Rachel who was already drowning herself in her 5th beer, a rubber drinking tube extending from her lips to the "Miller Lite" hat lobbing sideways on her head. She was what Garret's mother would call a bad seed, always binge drinking until she was laying in a pool of vomit and one inch away from severe alcohol poisoning. She let out a wet belch before sneering at Lori's disgusted glance.
Ah Lori. Definitely a slut. She was always spinning some tragic tales of her youth to lure some unsuspecting shmuck to her bed. She was only allowed in the group because Jon insisted, begging Cat to show mercy on his cousin, at least for tonight-being New Year's Eve. ....
You need to describe the people through one character's perspective. And where they sit is irrelevant isn't it? How does that move the plot along? Not only does it clutter the reader's mind with unnecessary and boring information but it takes away the reader's ability to imagine the set up themselves. And that's the whole fun of reading, to paint the picture in our minds.
I would throw in dialogue and action to get the plot moving along. But if you want to leave it all to exposition without the dialogue you still need to interject action in there to set the scene.
A potential rewrite could be the following though..take note..I didn't know who your narrator was so I named him Garret and I set up some back story to set the scene and such:
_________________________
Garret followed Catherine into the house on the corner of 5th and main. She had insisted he spend New Years Eve with his mates instead of squatting in his din cave of a flat down on Brooklyn's west side. She called it his hermit cave because it was the only occupied apartment on the second floor. He preferred the quiet though; a paradox if there ever was one. Every morning he would wake to the punctured shot of a car back firing or Mrs. Kreely's sickly husband coughing; the raspy dry heeves echoing through the heat ducts from the floor below. But still, it was his own, personal sanctuary, nothing like Jon's house. Jon rented a former fraternity house that had been recently renovated by the landlord. It was bright and spacious, though Garret suspected the lack of furniture was partly to blame.
He could hear the low chatter in the kitchen as they made their way through the foyer. They were, as always, the last to arrive. Catherine looked over her shoulder at Garret, offering him a smile that promised a fun and entertaining evening. He didn't doubt that it would be entertaining. Alex and Mike were there. Whenever those two were together it was sure to be a cockfight. Who would draw blood first? Alex no doubt, with his short temper that no one dared to challenge. But the winner would always be Mike; charming in his own intuitive way. He would sling one of his famous quips to ease the tension and remind everyone why he was always on the party list.
The kitchen was located in the new addition of the house just off the second floor overlooking Main street. Like the rest of the house, it was fairly empty; furnished only with Jon's latest kitchen gadgets, a dried up, withering plant, and a retro 1970's table that was missing the middle section and nailed together to form a triangular shape.
Catherine slid into the first unoccupied chair, greeting the group with her usual southern drawl. Despite popular belief, southerners weren't as laid back as one would think. At least Cat wasn't. She bounced over to the next seat as Garret nodded his greeting to Alex. And so it began with Cat's own rendition of musical chairs, skipping from seat to seat in rhythm to a tune only she could hear as she mixed and mingled with the group. Each time she switched her seat her hand would reach behind her, pulling Johnny along like an absent minded mother dragging her idle-brained tot.
But Jon didn't seem to mind. Always the player, he would seem to adorn himself with a new girl every night of the week. He always said that the quickest way to attract a woman was to wear a sprightly beauty on his arm. Women loved the competition, he'd say as he slowly drank himself into a quiet fog of intoxication. And he was right. It wasn't uncommon for him to calmly break up a cat fight spurred on by his latest arm ornament. He never fought with anyone, not even the jealous blokes at the pub who tried to pry his admirers away with idle threats. But despite his calm exterior everyone knew that he was just as crazy as Alex if provoked.
Alex was known as the bad boy of the group, like Mike. Both blessed with that handsome scruffiness that girls found irresistible. Jolene was no different. She was happy to sit in between them and flash her smile at whoever spared her the attention.
Garret looked across the table at Rachel who was already drowning herself in her 5th beer, a rubber drinking tube extending from her lips to the "Miller Lite" hat lobbing sideways on her head. She was what Garret's mother would call a bad seed, always binge drinking until she was laying in a pool of vomit and one inch away from severe alcohol poisoning. She let out a wet belch before sneering at Lori's disgusted glance.
Ah Lori. Definitely a slut. She was always spinning some tragic tales of her youth to lure some unsuspecting shmuck to her bed. She was only allowed in the group because Jon insisted, begging Cat to show mercy on his cousin, at least for tonight-being New Year's Eve. ....
Quick... should i have left my boyfriend?
BarBqqueen
My two year old n I spend the weekends at my boyfriends. It is a 1970 trailer... bf refers to as a dump.
Anyhow, we are preparing dinner. Bf is mad because we spent hours shopping/looking for a movie for him for hours. My toddler is beside me on a chair in kitchen and looking at corn and a candle that always sits in table center. This is never lit. Bf hollered then grabs my toddler by both arms and yells toddler should not be on table. Child's hands were on table looking ... Bf tells me this is when I need to best child's a--. I tell bf his one cat.(he has 4) was on table and I didn't grab them and certainly didn't beat em or tell him too. He said all I ever do is hand child a candy car when they do something bad and I should have grabbed child and that is bad parenting. Bf has no children of own. Bf then slams fist into top of oven and says what happens when child touches hot stove... where they shouldn't be i got stuff n child n left.
Bf hollered as leaving don't bother call or cone back... I will have some one else here tonight.
I did have to cone back. Bf was washing his 30k sports car. Said nothing.
Did I do the right thing? Bf scared me and my child.
My toddlers *real* father abandoned child and I when I got cancer...
I do my best. Thank u.
Bf says as leaving the table under cloth is glass ..n worried for child safety.
Answer
You are crazy
1- for being in a trailer
2- single moms have few options/takers
3- He was protecting your kid, be thankful
You are crazy
1- for being in a trailer
2- single moms have few options/takers
3- He was protecting your kid, be thankful
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