/lit/ - Literature

>Write okay Novel
>Become semi-famous in my country
>Teacher friend mention that they have started deciphering/studying it at a relatively nearby high-school, me being a ‘’famous local writer’’ and all
>one week go by, get notified by said teacher friend that his colleague, a literature/language teacher, wanted me to come over and mingle with the pupils (aged 18) for two hours
>lolk
>I had writer’s block and didn’t have anything else worthwhile to do, besides waiting for my next microscopic paycheck
>Meet up at school, dressed casually but nice. Not that I have that many nice clothes…
>Greeted by the teacher, girl in her late twenties or early thirties. So about my age
>I get the inclination that the Literature teacher is a ‘’fan’’ despite me having published shit.
>Sporadically nod in agreement to her sycophantic ‘’hot-takes’’ around my writing
>Whatever, she’s a qt.
>Enter classroom
>Started down by twenty or so pupils
>They all probably hate me for having to read my stuff against their will.
>I just smugly smile
>’’Oh Anon, we are so happy you took some time to come here and meet us’’
>the crowd start throwing questions at me, asking me to confirm their suspicions around the symbolism
>symbolism???
>People, the nerds especially, pull shit out of their asses around what I’ve written, the deeper meanings and so on.
>panic because I have no idea what to say back
>sperg out
>I start rambling about random shit, talk about Baudelaire, infinite jest, Anarcho-Primitivism.
>stuttering
>basically, flexing my pseud credentials
>8 min go by
>class is dumbfounded
>QT teacher embarrassed
>half an hour has gone by and I make up an excuse to go
>QT teacher seemingly relived
>go home and lisent to 6ix9ine