/lit/ - Literature

“Please enter the office. Good luck, Ms. Alexander.”
Her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest. Breathing was getting heavier and more laboured. She hoped she wasn’t sweating. Last thing she wanted was for her face to look greasy. She turned the handle and opened the door.
Papers were strewn across the floor, and piles of them were stacked everywhere. Bookshelves in the corners were covered in cobwebs and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in months. A bald-headed Williams was reading over some notes, not seeming to notice her.
“Um, Mr. Williams?”
“Please, sit,” he said, still not giving her his attention.
She pulled out one of the leather chairs and lowered herself onto it. She looked at the clock and was five minutes late. Better than being late, she thought. The weather outside had gotten worse. The rain got heavier and the wind started blowing it hard against the window panes.
“Ms. Alexander. Welcome to the FBI branch of this wonderful city. I look forward to this interview.” His eyes were a piercing bright blue.
“Thank you for the opportunity.” She pulled at her collar.
“So, lets have a quick chat.” He leaned back and let out a sigh. “Why do you want to work here? What made you pick us?”
“Well… I’ve always wanted to serve my country. It’s given so much to me and I thought it was time to give back.”
“That sounds like the diplomatic answer. I get that a lot. Besides that, what else?”
“To be completely honest with you, I also got kind of tired for doing the tax returns of the farmers back home. Mind numbing.”
“So, you decided to come here and capture frauds and con artists?”
She smiled and nodded. “I think I have what it takes.”
“Do you?” He typed her information on his laptop and pulled up her information. “You have a degree in accounting. Perfect GPA. Do a lot of auditing work?”
“I did what I could.”
“You passed our test with flying colors. But that’s all just academics. How do you think you will perform in the field?”
She drew a blank. Before she could answer, Williams cut her off. “You seem a bit inexperienced. Maybe in a few years.”
“Please, give me a position here. Anything. I can get you guys coffee. I can type up your files. I can mop the floors.” Did I really just say that?
“We have all of those positions filled. I’ll give you another chance. Let’s try again. What skill, what one thing do you bring to the table that no other accountant can? Take all the time you need.”
Chloe tried to think of an answer. She was never good with interviews, and it seemed like Williams already decided not to hire her before she walked in. Think, Chloe. You gotta have- “I can shoot can of beer with a pistol from a hundred yards away.”

Critique please:

Chapter One
The train was crowded, damp, and smelled a little weird. Windows were fogged up as drops of rain beaded down the outside of the glass. The car rocked and jerked as it sped across the rails, pushing Chloe Alexander against the door, and then against a chubby man when it moved the other way. She was used to walking to work in the morning, hearing the birds sing, breathing the fresh air deep into her lungs, enjoying the chilly morning air against her skin. Now, she felt like she was stuffed into a sardine can. Adding to her constriction were her clothes. She wore a tight, form fitting red blazer with a starched white shirt underneath, and a black tie for good measure.
It didn’t bother her. Not too much, anyway. She was actually thankful, not for getting pushed up against people she didn’t know, but for the opportunity that lay ahead of her.
Underneath her arm was tucked a black leather folder, with her resume packaged safely away in it. The paper could be read and understood, but she was concerned of making a mistake in the interview. What if she stuttered? Or forgot the answer to a question? Maybe her work experience wasn’t enough. Tension and anxiety were the last things she wanted to expose herself to, so she tried to think positively.
I can do this. I think. I can try my best. That’s all I can really do, so I guess I’ll just… try my best.

Lots of great writers don't make any money. Lots of bad writers make a ton of money.

I've decided to become a hack writer. If I write 20 bullshit books, at least one of them is going to be a best seller and make me a millionaire.

What are some tips on writing faster and filling out more pages. Should I just describe everything in way more detail like Stephen King does? Make the characters run around for no reason? Needless sex scenes?

Help me become a hack!

Chloe Alexander sat up straight with her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her bright red blazer stood out against her starched white shirt and tight pants and was accessorized with checkered pocket square. She found the outfit to be constricting and uncomfortable, but she endured. Today was a day where looking her best was of integral importance.
The office she was seated in was messy and cluttered. Papers were strewn everywhere on the floor along with crumbs of food and candy wrappers. Cobwebs hung from the corners and the window shades were covered in layer of dust. Her silver eyes darted back and forth from the hands on the clock to her interviewer, Captain Anthony Williams.
His kinky greying hair and moustache were neatly trimmed and shaped. He wore an impeccable brown suit that matched his chestnut complexion and leaned forward in his seat with his elbows on the table, black spectacles resting low on his nose. As he flipped through Chloe’s dossier, he occasionally rubbed his chin and scratched his head, his face stern and focused.
Chloe pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed her forehead quickly and stuffed it back in her pocket, hoping he was too focused to notice.
“Nervous?” Williams asked, taking off his reading glasses.
“No. Why would I be?” she lied.


plz no bully

What is your opinion on Richard Castle and the Nikki Heat and Derrick Storm books?