First Page Critique/Workshop: THE SEXUAL MISADVENTURES OF TINA COOPER (Women’s Fiction)



Critiquer: Irene Rose


I draw in a breath. At first normal, it quickly becomes labored and a little more rapid. Louder. The sound of the clock ticks before fading. Bob is on the bed naked except for a mismatched pair of Paisley socks pulled up to his knees. Hahaha. What a visual. He’s breathing heavily because he’s in the middle of some seriously great sex. He moves up and down like a mechanical bull. I’m squashed uncomfortably beneath him, back pressed into the mattress. Unlike Bob, there is no fervor.

“I’m gonna cum, Tina,” I hear Bob’s voice say. Delete voice or say, both are redundant. Even if he’s imaginary, she believes it.

Whatever. My head hurts. It’s one of those intense, excruciating, and unexplainable headaches a person just wakes up with. Damn, that really pisses me off. If there was a reason for the headache, I could accept it… I would delete this sentence or change it to I hate it when there’s no reason for it.

I lift my head as if trying to grasp for air. I observe with vacancy, a dresser teaming with plaques and trophies that read: ‘BOB COOPER – TAX ACCOUNTANT OF THE YEAR’. It’s a real shrine. I follow Bob’s lead and open my mouth wide, making a noise that sounds more like an animal being hit by a semi than an orgasm.

“Oh yeah, baby!” Bob squeals.

My moans become more impassioned, although still not faintly believable. Then, suddenly, I scream an exaggerated and obviously fake orgasm. With a mighty grunt, Bob’s body heaves and collapses. I’m bored, insecure, and lost. I kinda love this. She’s having imaginary sex with an imaginary man and it’s still not satisfying. I’m so intrigued by this premise. I don’t have too many crits because it’s a great first page. Great work!

I have one comment. You say think What About Bob and then your LI is Bob. That threw me a bit. I could only see Bill Murray in paisley socks.


If you have any thoughts or questions, the comments are open, but please keep it constructive. No douchebaggery allowed.

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