/lit/ - Literature

The events that transpired shortly after the apprehension of Lucida Donne.

mfw nobody wants free stuff.

Itt: We talk of the writing contests that we are currently participating it.

“Dialogue, dialogue, and more dialogue, don’t you understand?” He said, fingering the hem of his jacket in what looked to be some kind of vain attempt to rub away his fingerprints. “That’s the soul of the work. It’s what tells the reader why the characters have the motives they do, what they want and how they treat the poor fuck who decides to try and stop them. That is of course if the character has any real passion whatsoever.”
“That’s fantastic Bard, shall I grab a notebook and write this down? Because obviously the opinion is that I need to repeat Basic Writing Fundamentals.” I said looking down at the diluted remnants of my drink.
“Damn straight you do. But what’s worse is that that’s not even the biggest issue here. What kind of passion can you hope to inspire in someone if you can hardly muster the nerve to go out and have a sincere conversation? Go ahead and sit there, day after day producing nothing, watching movies and reading ‘classics’ attempting to emulate real life thinking to yourself oh I’m so smart and I’m so talented. Do that and call me when that works out for you.” He said opening the door and leaving.
And now here I am, alone. Wanting nothing more than a clean slate but knowing that’s the last thing I’m going to get.

>Does anyone else find themselves feeling this way?