Silawen Licenced To Perv Owner of Thorpedo's Speedo OBsessed
Posts: 27
(9/11/04 5:48) Reply
Need a beta-read
There may be one person who knows what this is about...or what caused, so luv, here it is.
This fiction is...for my sanity, just because I need it out of my system. It's pretty obvious actually, but heck.
I wrote these couple of paragraphs yesterday evening and I need some comments. I have not found a suitable beta-reader yet so I'll throw it on here instead, hoping you can help out. It's still a draft, so nothing spectacular, but I was hoping that some could comment on spelling, grammar, flow and subject. Thanks. :)
As usual the weather was hot and suffocating. The sun seemed bend on torturing those beneath, casting its rays on everything that dared to exist. Plants withered and animals embarked on a journey towards shadow. Suffice it to say, there was none. Humans made sure to either stay inside with the air-conditioning on or seek relief in the water of a nearby swimming-pool or beach. The few people that didn’t do that were either mad or forced to. Elizabeth was both. As one of the few outside she stood out, even more so when you see her sitting against a tree opposite one of Sydney’s swimming-pools, casually dressed in baggy jeans and large sweater. In the season of bikinis and tank tops she is like a lamb between the wolves. Women eye her with surprise, men think she’s crazy, but she’s used to it.
At the moment she was just staring ahead of her, gazing at something invisible to anyone else. Perhaps there, in the stark blue sky, she was seeing paintings of magnificence, an idea unfolding as she watches the clear blue. Her stomach rumbled but she pays no heed. There would be no time to grab a snack, for in a few minutes the pool would be swarming with swimmers, athletes from all over the world coming here to study and learn and perhaps one day go to the championships or Olympics. They were a big group, but the ‘big guns’, as they are called, future Ian Thorpe’s and the like, were due in another ten minutes. That was the group she was waiting for.
They were some of Sydney’s most famous faces and a picture of one of them could result in a grand fee from buyers, be they magazines, fans or tourists looking for something nice.
It didn’t pay much, of course. None of the people she had photographed in her life had become really famous yet – except the occasional actor, of whom everyone owned a picture-, but she tried and the little money she made enabled her to live an enjoyable life. That was something she was quite happy with, as a struggling artist – however cliché that may sound – she often found herself in places where she never thought she’d be. Fortunately she was not the only one who brought in the money. Her sister, 21 year old Juli, worked as a Tour Guide during weekends, showing tourists the most boring places in Sydney. It wasn’t something Elizabeth found particularly interesting but it gave them more to live on, so she wasn’t complaining. Most of the money her sister earned, however, was invested in her study. Economics… the one subject in school that Elizabeth had never understood or wanted to.
Juli was very good at it though, so Elizabeth had encouraged her to pursue it, which she had. Now Juli was at school during the weekdays and cruising the city, with Japanese visitors following her, in the weekend. Elizabeth cruised around the city too, but made sure to visit the more populated places. Tourists like to have pictures shot in front of monumental places. Elizabeth, Liz to her friends, had perfected her skills in her 24 years of existence and made good use of it. Often people accused her of being paparazzi, but she ignored such statements. To her paparazzos were those photographers that completely ignored the wishes of the subject they were capturing on camera. She was one of the old garde, asking permission and only shooting a picture if it was in the best interest of the person on the other end of the camera. This, of course, caused her to make less money than the average paparazzi mosquito. Her sister had asked once what her goals were in life, but Liz had none except enjoy herself and find a nice man. This was probably the reason for her uncanny way of making very little money. Funnily enough she met the most famous and perfect people, but none wanted to even get near her, let alone get to know her. It was the price the profession brought with it.
At the moment she was just focussing on getting to know some of the swimmers. Her magazine, well her uncle most of all, had asked her to accompany the Aussies from their pool to Beijing, for promotional pictures and perhaps some money making snapshots of the rich and famous. Liz knew better, however, her uncle had more at heart than the occasional burst of money, no he was just worried that she didn’t get out of Sydney enough. In a way he acted as her father, instead as her uncle, but she was grateful for it…to an extend. When he started asking about her - nonexistent - love life she had drawn the line. She appreciated all the help, but that was a tab bit too personal. But then who was she to complain about a fully financed trip to Beijing to watch the best athletes at work?
It did cause the jitters a bit, however, after all she was just a normal 20 year old trying to get her act together and make something of her life, this was a once in a lifetime experience. The swimmers themselves were fairly nervous as well. In only three weeks time they’d be on their way to Beijing, to get better acquainted with the pool and then race to the fullest two weeks later. Most of ‘her’ group were still very young, the youngest being 17, and just the thought of racing in front of millions – through tv or otherwise – was a very frightening thought. During her ‘getting to know you’ days Elizabeth had gotten to know the boys quite a bit. They were with 5, all cheeky and funny, especially together. Oldest of the bunch was Leslie, your average good looking beach boy, with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Unfortunately he was in a steady relationship and Elizabeth had to admit that she liked his girlfriend.
Richard was just as much a beach boy as Leslie, his hair just as blonde, but his eyes a light brown. He was the one that took care of her, sheltered her from the boys when they were drunk, and was always the designated driver because he was responsible. She loved Richard, but knew he had a 2 year relationship waiting for him at home. Richard was the one she spend time with most, because he got lonely very easily and hated to show his sensitive side to the ‘lads’.
Then you had Eric, charmer, hottie and the one that could make Elizabeth shake when he looked at her. He was what every girl wanted, tall, dark, athletic of course, chiselled face and a body like a greek god. Whenever he came out of the pool, dripping, Liz had trouble not snapping pictures for her home collection. He was perfection, except for the nasty habit to go from girl to girl.
Björn was the ugly duckling of the bunch, with a horrid persona to boot. Of the five boys he was the one who Liz got on worst with. For some reason he had the impression that Liz took fewer pictures of him – which was the truth, she had to admit – than of the other boys, and for months now had he made snide remarks towards her. Not that she cared much, he wasn’t a guy she’d like to be friends with anyway.
Last was Jasper, the youngster. With his 17 years he was very much like the little brother, though he prided himself on being ‘part of the team’. Liz had always trouble not to protect the lad the way Richard did with her, but his pride wouldn’t let her. She liked him, it was just that he was still a teenager and it was often noticeable.
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