/lit/ - Literature

What if Mr. Rogers was really Satan in disguise, and lived a perfectly wholesome life, blameless in every way, so he could sneak in unnoticed and brainwash the world's children (which was *us*, years ago, all his "neighbors") with the idea that they/we are fine just the way we are, rather than having told us "you're going to have to do a lot better than this."!

I come from this small, deep southern rural town area. There’s a little bridge near downtown (but still very much in town, over across from Bradford’s if you’re local), goes over a little muddy creek. This one girl I know was tellin’ on Facebook how she was remembering this one time this dude she caught cheatin’ at the little A1 motel was threatenin’ to jump. She was actually posting a recent “local paper” article about how they’re needin’ and plannin’ to replace that bridge soon, it’s old as fuck, like big time, and that’s what made her remember that shit. I told her, there on the Facebook:

“If I was her I'd a hollered out the winder at that feller "you gone have to drive at least to Rome to impress me enough with tryin' that bridge shit."

And then she said that dude didn’t have no car to be drivin’ to Rome, cause see, it’s 20 miles. But I told her if that feller wanted to stand a chance with winnin’ her heart back then he needed to git to walkin’ because you have to show some real effort! When you're threatening to jump, you're basically trying to express “I have fucked up, I am sorry, but this is how much you mean to me.” So it's got to be a good bit above in danger level than something you'd probably do on the weekend somewhere else just for fun anyway, because then you're just saying "I love you enough to take a cool dip and then have to wash and dry all my clothes for nothing." Shit, that was about less of a leap than a lotta divin’ boards.

It’s really been somethin’ comin’ from this little town and area. Everywhere I’ve been all across the country over the years I’ve had all kinds of folks make me repeat myself. Some of ‘em because they couldn’t make out what the fuck I just said, and the rest of ‘em just wanted to hear that shit again because the Southern accent is just so god damn glorious! I met the Spin Doctors one time, and the bass player, a black feller from NYC, stopped me in the middle of shit, and said “I have toured this planet twice and you’ve got the coolest accent I’ve ever heard!”, so y’all all eat that shit!

Anyway, then after that what I saw on Facebook was a thang sayin’ “Florida Man Sprinkled Salt in Walmart to Rid Evil Spirits”, and I said, you go, Florida Man, mother fuck ‘em ol’ evil spirits!

(Me replying to someone’s Facebook post regarding writing, on 06/05/19)

“Upon awakening, I saw you had accepted the request, and then on first morning peek at the feed, your posts mentioning writing. I felt a weird sting of mixed emotions. On the one hand, I always love to see that someone is following such a rarefied calling, and are actually working towards making it happen. On the other, I face my own daily terror at needing to write myself, which I have been, for months, but always in fear of not having interesting, worthwhile enough for someone material).

I then began taking care of the first morning things (for the crack of noon is frequently morning for me) before getting further time to actually relax with some computer. After knocking the biggies out and also enjoying a surprise few moments of my son having time for me to show him a video of a clinical psychologist being interviewed by a former addict about replacing alcohol and drugs with esteemable goals and accomplishments, which he watched with legitimately great interest and attention, I stepped out into the back yard and wrote the following in my mind:

‘It's raining in that way where you can feel it all over your skin at all times, yet not so much that you can't still operate a cigarette without it being ruined. Yesterday, I spoke at the funeral of my very first friend in life. In his later years, not too awful long before being found dead in his garage 'apartment' from, most overtly, diabetic (Type I since age 4) complications after 44 trips flying on this ball around the giant ball of fire, 93 million miles away, he wrote a book that has become, for me, the single greatest act of rawly courageous and honest expressional art.’

In that book, by the way, he actually says that he loves run on sentences! Anyway, as I stood there experiencing and working on that out there in the yard, I thought of your posts here and felt such a deeply fulfilling moment of inspiration as it all flashed together. I felt that resonance knowing that you, too, and all who do this, need those inspirations to fuel us or we feel as if we are nothing, because of what use is a writer who has nothing to say? So whenever they do come upon us, the levels of personal fulfillment help create among the deepest levels of relief that a human can enjoy, which is quite the gift to participate in the giving or receiving of.”

(End copy of Facebook reply)

Is there a good "writing" app that's both free and without ads?

I mainly need something to help organize my work and keep my narrative coherent. Preferably one I can also create new novels in as well.
This is the only community in which I feel I can trust a recommendation. Please help.