Okay folks, been floundering for weeks, now it’s time to bite the bullet and reach out here. I’m inserting what is now the first three paragraphs of my “novel” (hopefully one day it really will be a novel and I won’t need the quotation marks). What I need is your criticism and thoughts. Don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings. 🙂 Remember folks, this is just a draft, only a draft.

“Linus once again envisioned the blood arching as the arterial spray cascaded across the mirror just so, the movement so picturesque, breath-taking. It was really too bad he couldn’t frame and mount the image. Shit he should have brought his digital camera with, oh well next time, it’d be great in sepia. He imagined the refracted light from the chandelier glistening off the straight razor as it sliced into boring, babbling, Bob’s neck.

Linus discreetly glanced around the table pleased to notice people admiring him and of course his custom-tailored Armani, the salesman had assured him that the pale green colour intensified what had been described once as his antifreeze eyes a description he relished. Now he posed himself elbow on table, thumb under chin, forefinger slightly bowed just below his lips. He’d practiced this, he considered it his “thoughtful” pose. Linus was a very attractive albeit slight man, six three with a distinctive Roman nose that kept him from being pretty. He went to the gym regularly and while he was not bulked up was quite happy with the six-pack that he sported. He thought it was really fucking gross how people let themselves go and most obese people made him want to puke on sight.

Getting distracted by the attention was a relief from Bob’s endless tirade about the financial forecasting and economic trends. How did he manage to take something Linus loved so much and make it into blanc mange? The people around the table looked really fucking bored too. He fought hard to suppress sighing audibly and somehow managed to belabour the boredom by literally examining his shoes. They were so awesome, he loved his clothes. His shoes were Florsheim oxblood in colour, perfectly polished, of course. In a way, Bob’s droning was a soothing background that allowed Linus to revisit the scene from earlier that day, playing it over in his head. But Bob was droning on and this meeting seemed like it would never end.”

And … go!