Stylish Laptop Bags

Is this style of writing any good?

because I write for fun I try all sorts of styles and genres, this is my latest attempt. (1) Aitch Diamond lay on his maroon leather settee watching reflections of passing cars strobe raindrops on the window. The Grandfather clock in the lobby struck eight, moving him languidly to the bathroom. By a quarter past eight he had washed, shaved and dressed and brewed a cup of sugarless coffee. When Shaz Green opened the front door at half past he was at his desk, eating buttered toast and drinking his second coffee. “Morning Aitch.” He glanced over brown framed spectacles. “Mornin’ Shaz.” Shaz, wide eyed peered around the room that was half office, half Aitch’s living room. . “God what a mess. It’ll take a week to clean this place.” Aitch gazed about him, surprised. “It’s not that bad.” He protested. Shaz picked his dirty shirt, socks and pyjamas off the settee, carrying them at arms length to the laundry basket in the bathroom. Aitch gazed after her, appreciating the way her pale grey silk suit clung to her body, shimmering with every high heeled step, auburn hair curling just below the collar. He had made a pass at her when she first arrived two years ago as his new secretary, but was told in confident but friendly terms exactly what she thought of bosses who indulged in sexual harassment. He had since discovered she proved too good a secretary to lose for the passing whim of an arm round the waist. Ah well. “No post today?” He asked, watching her behind as she took two empty wine bottles to the kitchen. “It never comes before nine.” The statement was flat; no trace of impatience, though she knew he was aware that the postman called as regular as Grandfather’s Clock in the lobby. She glanced at him, scouring the room for more mess. “Nothing to do?” “Not much. I did Alan Dawson’s report, and written what I’ve done so far on the McDonald case. It’s all down to you now. It’s on your desk. He said. Her desk, smaller than his own, sat at discreet right angles to his in the corner opposite the kitchen, under a blown up sepia photograph of his grandfather. “You haven’t made a start yet on that industrial espionage case.” Shaz commented. “No. I know I haven’t. It’s only a small firm. The director’s probably put his papers in a safe place and forgotten where he’s put them.” Shaz turned away from him to press the computer button. Aitch opened his laptop and began to play solitaire. He pressed ‘mute’ so that Shaz couldn’t hear ‘Boo’ when he lost a game. He always did but she knew about the solitaire anyway. At nine o’clock Shaz collected the post. Four ordinary letters and a telephone bill which she opened first. She frowned. “Have you been ringing porn lines?” “What?” “There’s a lot of 090 numbers on this.” “Porn?” “That’s what 090 numbers usually are.” “Definitely not. Emphatically not.” Said Aitch. “They’ve got it wrong. Write to the phone people.” “I will.” Lips tightly pursed, face severe. The next letter held a cheque for three hundred pounds. It’s time he paid up. It must be three months since I finished that job.” He complained. Shaz took the letters and cheque to her desk. “Haven’t you got somewhere to go?” She asked pointedly. He looked at her, his face blank. “Mrs…..Mrs Alston. In Bury.” He glanced at his watch. “Gotta go.” The front door slammed and he was gone. In the car he went over the brief. ‘Mrs Alston. Burgled two weeks ago. Antique ornaments stolen. Nothing else. Covered by insurance. But her silver victorian hairdressing set is of high sentimental value.’ Aitch pulled a face. Not much chance of finding the goods after two weeks. Still, if he put in a few hours work it would help to pay a bill, and every little bit counts in this depression. He thought. Why did they keep calling it recession? It’s plain as Grandad that we’ve had recession most of the time since the eighties. When it’s too low to be recession it must be depression. Stands to reason. Reason meant that thinking of something else almost caused him to dent the back of the vintage Ford ahead of him, he stopped quickly before a crash could cause a dent in the size of his wallet. The drive was tedious, the rain monotonously immune to his windscreen wipers. Most traffic lights were red and it seemed to Aitch that every zebra crossing held a school crocodile or an old woman with walking stick and plastic bag. On the other side of Bury the roads became lanes, other lanes hidden by trees smoked the fact that they existed; then for a while he hit a farm area and was brought to a stop by twenty sheep. He counted them as they turned right in front of him, and as the whole flock disappeared into a stone walled field a tractor came from a pair of gates ahead of him. Aitch resigned himself to following at a steady five miles an hour grateful thanks for praise and critisism On balance I think I'll carry on with this one. Jack- the name is simple really. It's just the letter H. I was looking for something that could give the character an authority as well as a devil may care attitude.

Public Comments

1. I love it! I personally use the first person, but this is amazing. I really enjoy reading in this style. And you're an amazing writer, by the way.
2. If it's just for fun and your own enjoyment, just go for it. My personal opinion is that it's too slow moving and plodding. You also seem to use words in strange ways that it becomes difficult to understand what you're trying to say. If you were trying to get this published, that could be a major obstacle. "watching reflections of passing cars strobe raindrops on the window." ??? "brewed a cup of sugarless coffee." All coffee is sugarless. People add the sugar themselves. But, as I've said, you're doing it for fun so it should not really matter what other think. Just keep writing.
3. wow, i really love your writing style. the way you word your sentences helps them from getting stale and repetitive. it really pulls the reader in. i have no idea what your story is about but i already want to read it. keep up the amazing writing :]
4. I'm sorry, but I stopped reading at the name. Don't underestimate the importance of a simple name. We want to read about normal people, not those whose names we cant even pronounce. Please don't take that as a criticism of your writing though, if you enjoy it then go for it.
5. You have a definite style and the writing flows well. It is a page turner. The only problem, if it is a problem, was that at first when the secretary came in I thought Aitch was some sort of solicitor and then I changed my mind and decided he was a private investigator. Both of your characters are likable and easy to associate with in the story. I would suggest you definitely carry on with it and not just think about it. Keep writing because you certainly can. Good luck with it.