/lit/ - Literature

>>7352617
Aint long. Basically perfect w/r/t grammar & style. Like a clear window. You don't get in yr own way. Ya could cut down on the polysyllabic words, but yr call, ye apparently kno what yr doing.

Been thinking abt the premise for a sci-fi short story, I'll get it on paper eventually, I just need to get it more together and honestly it's fun to think abt, possibly evolving to a novella, then may e a novel, like NYT bestseller, probably at least, I hope, he thought hopefully.

...but I'm afraid it's been done before and I don't want to be a hack... such a thought never occurs to young Brian.

Let's have a look at what he IS thinking (he's still going on):

... and and w/o going too far into the plot, the premise of the text is to analyze the growth of humanity from the primitive stages to the space era by using an extrasolar (I'll explain to Mom what that means) human colony and and I also aim to juxtapose these comparisons with the the the human mind through the main character, (me, basically) a human colonist with little knowledge and has to repopulate humanity and when I post this later on reddit and lit I'll put a semicolon right abt here; as well as with the workings of government, portrayed by a military satellite that orbits the colonial planet as like a commentary on how things are here on Earth now but like taken further for maybe like to highlight all the hypocrisy or w/e the word is... Hegemony?

And and as an additional metaphor, and and something of a callback to the like retro sci-fi the likes of Heinlein and Steakley, the story will be framed in the life cycle of an insect, with the final stage (typically the wing-bearing stage) coinciding with the main character's venturing off of his home planet. I just got to develop it a little more in my head. I think that's enough to post but just in case...

And so Baby Boy Brian McGillicuddy adds a too long didn't read tag to his too long post:

So tl;dr sci-fi story about a boy on a colony planet being overseen by the government acts as a juxtaposition of human progress, our minds and our constructs, within the frame of an insect life cycle.

Would anyone read this?

No.

Waiting to grab up some more retro sci-fi before drafting to make sure I'm not treading old ground.

Just fucking do it or it will never happen.

The real life stand-in for Brian (who is whose stand in? Hehe!) considers the previous sentence and realizes it's probably true. He pushes away from his desk, the laptop's light fades from his face, and heads for the john AKA the crapper, but for a piss and a few thoughts, another go around on the short story idea, how to fit the insect cycle into a few pages guess that's for the novel huh well... And so right when Brian's stand-in goes to flush the toilet AKA the head, to purge it of his musty wee wee pee pee, he notices the face looking back at him: that ain't me! The face in the toilet water is Simpson's yellow and crawling w/flies and both Brian's stand-in and his Simpsonesque counterpart collapse into each other, eyes rolling up, the impact making—

Be Home Man.

Job is of shit, yellow cake for my yellow face.

Bjoryt the son, he is the hell. My arms cannot gro th' fingers for his throatrattle.

And then also that's wife Marf. Blue cone cunt.

Go to work cause what the fuck else.

Masterb Urns is there. This is his Xanadu & I am the broken dog of it. Smuckers, too, candied faggot.

Masterb Urn: Home Man, push these button.

Home Me: No.

Matter Burns: Verry well. Our fabulous ways will conform ye.

He picks up a book.

'Fan of reading?' he the Matlock Burns sez.

I shudder, I am not, but it hurts.

Smuckers hand me th' lighter.

Matterhorn, 'Feed my sheep, Montag.'

I torch. Him, Smuckers, the whole very thing. And finally me too.

It was a pleasure to burn.