/lit/ - Literature

Surprisingly, I'm in my house.

Reading books.

But in all seriousness, you just need to initiate some more book related conversation more often - you never know with strangers!

>>1989162
>>1989162

I'm currently at 5000-6000 words. I took this up but a month ago or something, so I'm pretty proud of myself even for such a hop in focus to write.

The first section has been drafted out - I just like to take breaks between writing is all.

Here's the x-bawks hueg 3 paragraph synopsis:

The story takes place primarily in a house the size of a crawlspace, owned by a 23 year old man named Clyde, where he spends most of his days imagining his perfect woman - he draws shoddy images, writes poetry, and incites himself to have common dreams about her, all while commonly pleasuring himself to the thought of ever finding such. The book is divided into 2 parts: the first, titled "Awake" revolves solely in the place of Clyde's home, circulating solely on his lack of passion/self doubt among his work, his serious in and out depression, previous interest in the military (the section holds multiple flashbacks to his training experience, based on trigger words), an extended dream with a girl, which includes inner turmoil within Clyde between his sexual nature and the need to find more so along with the struggle to understand what is the middle of these lines, and attempting suicide at the end of the section by trying to jump from his window – the section ends with a poem that blows out of the window onto the ground nearby written by Clyde.

>>1980021
>>1980021

You get a selection of five choices, and they are just two wizard "terms" slammed together with a number.

Some are cool - Silverdawn, Castleflight, SnitchSnatcher

Some...are questionable and sound awkward to say.

>>1975314
>>1975314

As marooned lumber, I got at their emotions from how they paced along to his coffin at a distance; the pastor had already stopped, as God could only come so close to shelter a man who's already reached Heaven and shortly on his stop Momma took the liberty to finish her stride with a turn away – I don't know what Momma would see in his face, but that perfect image, surrounded by angelic horns and mistletoe, demanded to remain. When she's lying there, just waiting for those famed flashes of life, she won't need to look at her boy out of a freezer, she'll dance with him in the meadow, and kiss him goodbye below the wing of an airplane. My little boy graciously swung to his grandmother, who pushed him on gently, sailing cross like a baby boat to home. He'd finally set himself to rest above his uncle, hoisting himself up slightly to angle a peek, to which his charm washed away. Still perched at my distant view, my boy shrugged his shoulders with a loud sob and, with a calm desperation, vexed his hands forward to caress at Marco's cheeks, peach with fluid.

With the hanger still gushing in the ocean wind, I turned away from the eulogy my son had for Marco; my eyes wanted to see something, but there was only clouds – Marco must've decided to walk the rest of the way.

>>1968092
>>1968092

>The story follows its protagonist, Raoul Duke, and his attorney, Dr. Gonzo, as they descend on Las Vegas to chase the American Dream through a drug-induced haze.

I mean...they are FUCKED UP ALL THE TIME in this book.

> pretentious

The irony!

bump for morning /lit/erates