/lit/ - Literature

A Poem

Ooh black girls thick and sweet
Ooh rubbing them with my meat
Now it's time to bust them cheeks

Ooh black girls can go for weeks
Ooh a big white cock results in squeaks
Of pleasure from their curls to their feet

Ooh black girls filled with my skeet
Ooh breeding them sure is neat
I never use protection

>>13435253
Lol and bump

I have been practicing one word haikus. What do you think of the one below?

Parsley

It took me 8 days to write it

>>13435190
Boring and shit.
>>13435253
it's not good, but i can tell you had fun. proud of you anon.
>>13435457
this hits.

>>13435487
Why does it suck?

>>13435543
It's incredibly boring prose made worse by a boring story, with boring details and boring dialogue.

>>13435580
What do you consider a book with good prose then?

>>13435190
how old are you OP?

>>13435617
23

In the house, at a quickly shrinking distance, you could hear the pounding footfalls careening through the darkened streets, mostly tennis shoes but also what must’ve been cowboy (or at least those Bon Jovi rokker-types anyway), work and combat boots, of probably dozens of stampeding teenagers and twentysomethings, urged on in an electrified, Satanic bloodlust by a roaring muscle car engine. Louder and louder, with two sets nearer and closing faster than the rest, smacking staccato like automatic gunfire against the crumbling, greying asphalt and concrete leading to the house, until they were bearing down on it so quickly it sounded like they weren’t going to stop, then the kettle drum thrashing of runner deceleration. The two sets of shoes stopped, the bodies wearing them colliding with each other and the house before the locked door. Smash. Dull, heavy clonking thuds against peeling, sun-bleached vinyl siding.

>>13435600
Not him, but I agree with his critiques. I think your drama is cliche and your details lack significance. Nothing said by either character reveals a lot about them, it just serves to advance the scene.
As an example of what I like I think Journey to the End of the Night has gripping, terrific prose.

>>13435721
I don’t do metaphors and symbolism. I want to convey ordinary people living insignificant lives and juxtapose it with corrupt billionaires. A blue shirt is the most interesting part of that characters life. I haven’t read journey yet

>>13435733
>I don’t do metaphors and symbolism.
Lmao
>I want to convey ordinary people living insignificant lives and juxtapose it with corrupt billionaires.
hahahaha fuck. you're retarded.
>A blue shirt is the most interesting part of that characters life.
That's not what an ordinary life is like you fucking aspie. Jesus.

God you're so retarded I'm in awe.

>>13435190
Somewhat awkward.

And I realize you don't want to force the descriptions of clothing, so you try to do it "naturally", but it's really awkward when you're talking about her blouse all of a sudden. Took away from the moment. You also need to learn how to use punctuation appropriately.

>No, Phil this is your house I'll go to the hotel.
It should be "No, Phil. This is your house. I'll go to the hotel" or even "No, Phil, this is your house. I'll go to the hotel."

Fuck, I have nothing to post for critique.

This any good? Pique interest? Be brutally honest, I'm trying to figure out whether to stick with this idea for my novel and revise it, or just move on. I've never published a thing in my life, so I don't really know.

>>13435190
I can tell, though, what's bad writing, and this is it. Come on, now. 1984? Have you read a book since highschool.

>>13435699
There are some bits where the flow seemed off but it was pretty well written. However, I'm not sure what the fuck you're writing about. A lot of bustle for two people running into each other.
>urged on in an electrified, Satanic bloodlust by a roaring muscle car engine
???

>>13436196
>>13436018
>>13435987
>>13435733
>>13435721
>>13435699
>>13435696
>>13435617
>>13435600
>>13435580
>>13435543
>>13435487
>>13435457
>>13435444
>>13435253
>>13435190
You are all into interracial sex slavery and having your minds read by corporations and the government, your thoughts will be catalogued against you

>>13436196
The rest of the chapter would make it clear but I thought it would be rude to expect anyone to read more than a paragraph.

>>13436197
Joke's on you I/m shitposting from the panopticon.

>>13437353
I'm not sure what you mean by that, would the rest of the chapter help you gather whether you'd be interested in reading more/whether it's good or bad?
Also I've just gotten to browsing /lit/ so I'm a newfag to critiques and stuff. Sorry.

his jaw dropped
like a basking shark
eating shrimp

>>13435253
i like the picture and it's nice that you never use protection

>>13435190
love the ending. enjoying the flow of the words you have going on there. could stand to be more descriptive.
>>13435699
pretty beautiful, very stylish without being purple prose you have going on there.
>>13436196
interesting. the premise is an interesting choice, and that opening line is definitely great. definitely keeps attention well, but I'd have to read more to really say more about it-possibly more character interaction.
>>13437686
I like it. not picturesque, but...easily picturable? don't know what the word would be.

here's mine.

>whew

Truth a sleeping deluge; Mind a crossing bird-

The whims and ways of the water are like words

Writ large upon the fabric of humanity.

Large towers made of iron and aluminum rise, and fall

In years and in seconds, both in front of and behind me,

And morning birds awake at night to sing, and to call.

My dearly departed wrote me a letter, when he left;

He wrote me the letter “O”, representative of forever.

He wrote me the letter “O”, and then he got dressed

Wrapping himself up in a cardigan of grey polyester

And shame. The world sleeps fitfully, a crying child

Lost in the throes of anger, and burning misery.

Miserere, miserere, miserere mei! It wails, still a little wild

From the days of old, where Ceasar tamed the Dinosaurs

And Ashurbanipal caused the Ordovician extinction event.

It rocks as if it were still in its cradle,

Only heard through reflections of fables

Told when it was still speaking to us.

The reflections remain, lost in wood, or cavern;

Presumably, also at the bottoms of taverns,

Ounces deep in liquid courage to escape guilt,

Faceplanting in a Guinness ocean’s bottom, tasting silt,

And shame.

Truth a passing fancy; Mind dazed and confused-

It’s impossible to heal when a man’s ego is bruised.

Words like Earth rise up heartily, like bemused

Birds, crows cawing away at the half-living,

Waiting for sweet death, and the release that it will bring.

bump

>>13438074
somewhere in the middle it got a hold of me

>>13435253
>Ooh a big white cock results in squeaks
>Of pleasure from their curls to their feet
these lines need workshopped, after cutting a couple syllables they'll fit with the rest and it makes for a good patticake rhyme

Bump

Cuck cuck cuck
He was moving on up
The firm is now defunct
Laid off, he lays down
His wife, is not there
The kids, they don’t play
Anymore

>>13435190
La Condesa sings lightly
In her pearl white evening gown
As the City marches toward her
Brandishing pistols and knives.

Roma’s where the gringas see
Though they hear no melody
Only pictures from their telephones
Sent to friends in New York.

I am a spider in the empty box
Or a dog bearing teeth
As the guard of decay closes in
On the woman who sings and sleeps.

Together the earth swallows us
And the sea removes every trace.

>>13435699
I like this. Its interestingly written but still makes sense and conveys the action, while not explicitly describing everything. The only thing would be an issue that it doesn't make complete sense out of context, although its good enough that if there were more I'd read on. Despite not having the whole picture though, it still manages to convey the urgency of whatever is going on.
>>13436196
A bit trite, but well written and somewhat interesting. Robots/cyborgs as a civil rights allegory isn't a new idea. But you've given good exposition without being boring. The setting feels believable and the actual writing is understandable and functional, if a bit on the boring, standard side. Essentially, decently written and enjoyable sci-fi. Nothing extraordinary IMHO. I'm not a fan of exposition dumps, but this is fine.
>>13441360
Interesting and nicely written, even if I don't totally understand the meaning. A quick search gives me a bit of context, but like I said, I don't entirely get it, so I won't bother trying to unpack it. Nonetheless, an interesting read and stimulating to think about.

Pic related is mine, its part of an allegorical short story. Its not finished, so I figured I'd just post the initial paragraph. I showed it to a friend recently and they said it just seemed like empty, edgy garbage, even when I explained what the finished story is about. I'd appreciate any critique you anons have for it.

Found this on my phone. Dunno when I wrote it, and tried to edit a few words here and there but I can't return to the mood.

Fortune, it is said, makes all her slave.
So, virtue says, I'll serve and please my maid
till the day breaks, and the smell of eggs frying
sits upon my chest, whilst lying,
as the morning breeze comes for the dead.

Fortune, my father said, comes to those who wait.
I shall wait.
And whosoever believeth,
Shall have everlasting life.
Perishing at the call of the horn,
will be reserved for those
with courage to be born.

And on the the green and groomed suburban lawn,
A dog will be spotted,
Desecrating that holy activity we call labour.

And fortune then, will be the spectre of the lack,
Lack of memories, lack of dreams, and lack of an undercurrent pulling one against their will.

Theology of the lack, is the dogmatic counterpart for the wheel of fate, crushing spines on its journey to itself.

>>13441470
Too wordy and difficult to follow. I think, unless you aim for this to be read as scripture or postmodern philosophy, you need to give the reader a reason to keep reading, and this is very difficult to visualise. I do not like certain selection of words, nor their repetition (e.g. half-term, digits), but I could tolerate their occasional use. I dont want to say your friend is right but you should be able to see why he thinks that. Needs a lot more reworking in order to sound more natural.

>>13441470
I like it anon. It’s pretty good, Do you like it yourself though?

>>13435733
read Raymond Carver

>>13441508
>Too wordy and difficult to follow. I think, unless you aim for this to be read as scripture or postmodern philosophy, you need to give the reader a reason to keep reading, and this is very difficult to visualise.
I didn't think it was terribly hard to understand, although it does lack context, which my friend did mention, and I agree. I also can tend to be verbose. It is definitely meant to read like a sort of pseudo-religious parody though.
>I do not like certain selection of words, nor their repetition (e.g. half-term, digits), but I could tolerate their occasional use.
I hadn't even noticed my repeated use of "digits", thanks for pointing it out. I also agree that some of my phrasing could be stronger.
>I dont want to say your friend is right but you should be able to see why he thinks that.
I definately get it, and you're both right. I think the lack of context and apparent motivation are the biggest detriment. Although some of that is cleared up in the latter part of the story, it could definitely benefit here.
I did a bit of editing on the phrasing. If you don't mind my asking, is it improved? More diverse? It was definitely repetitive, annoyingly so, which is something I struggle with when writing metaphor and simile.
>>13441516
>I like it anon. It’s pretty good, Do you like it yourself though?
I'm glad you enjoyed it, but no, I can't say I'm satisfied. I think its an okay starting point, but definitely needs work, as my friend and the other anon said. I disagree that its edgy, since the violence has some function in context, but I see how it feels pointless when I failed to provide necessary meaning and structure. I also need to improve the prose.

I was considering canning the whole thing based on what my friend said, but I think I can work with this. I will continue with this piece and return sometime with a version two, hopefully a complete short story.
Thank you very much to the both of you for your insight and comments.

I imagined all of the walls in the school lined with moulded whitebrick. The old dells sequestered in those old storage cabinets, the worlds contained in each room, on each harddrive, in each mind. Everything was separated by careful partitions of school subjects and white walls. The anxieties and resentments squeezed tight in those layers of human skin. The passions of stuffed up students and the agonies of the teachers. But in here there was none of that. In here the air was open and you could breathe. Life sat there right on the desk open as a textbook.

1/3
I got off and walked a few blocks to Gabe’s apartment. I pressed the buzzer to his apartment and Anna answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Arthur. Is Gabe in?’
“Not right now. Don’t worry. I’ll let you up anyways.”
The catastrophic buzz went off and the lock teeth clicked open.
“You want some coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
“Any leads?”
“Leads,” I let out a laugh, “sure. I have a couple of contacts in the Jewish neighborhood.”
She laughed.
“Yes. Them.”
“I wouldn’t go into business with those people.”
“Why not?”
“My dad, he is Jew, always had a disgust for the Orthodox.”
“Am I sensing some predjudice?”
“I guess you could say that. They live in an insulated community. They don’t understand the outside culture.”
“You could see that as a disadvantage.”
“They won’t recognize any gestures of good faith. Either you completely bend to their will or you are viewed as disrespectful.”
“Yes. I’m willing to take the risk of being viewed as rude. You know their insulation, their lack of recognition, for everyone else that will be a disadvantage, but for us, for Gabe…”
“Oh,” she turned on the kitchen light, “I see what you’re getting at.”
The coffee was burning over. She flipped the switch and threw some cream and sugar in. I held the mug to my face and sipped.
“You encounter these Hasids growing up?”
“No. They don’t do well out in the suburbs.”
“Gabe has told me a little about where you’re from.”
“The worst place to grow up.”
“From what I hear it’s the best place.”
“For some. For me, not so much. For others it was hell. I guess I came out on top in the end.”
“Please. A place like that? You were born on top.”
“Don’t joke around with me like that, where was it that you grew up?”
“Baltimore.”
“Yes,” she chuckled, “Beautiful sunny Baltimore. Not even a suburb?”
“I grew up about 20 minutes out. Still Maryland, though.”
“Don’t worry. I’m guilty of the same thing. I tell people I’m from Houston and shut up.”
“But what part?” I said with a strong sound of sarcasm.
“Exactly. I respond with some bullshit. Northside. I Abruptly walk away,” she laughed.

>>13441760
2/3
“No one is impressed?”
“Oh God it’s worse if they’re impressed, as if it were some faraway fantasy land. What they don’t realize, is that the more orderly the place you live the more the chaos inside grows,” she paused, “That makes no sense.”
“No. I understand.”
“Look. It’s a natural desire in the younger parts of someone’s life for a certain degree of…” she took a pause and set her coffee mug on the table, “...unpredictability, a sense of adventure or whatever. Well there was none of that in our lives. There were the trees, then there were the houses, and there was us. Worst part being we were all insulated in this community. Just like the Hasids, you know? Nobody went outside of the town.”
“You know my earliest memory from Baltimore?”
“What?”
“Getting out of my dad’s car. The 7/11. I remember stepping down. When we first drove into town. I felt something squish. Something pasty. I looked down. I had stepped in vomit.”
She let out a laugh.
“And I remember, even as a 5 or 6 year old, what I would do to get out of this filth. How I would love to clean it all up. Wipe it all down. Leave nothing left. Make it all pristine.”
“Trust me. When it is all clean, all pristine, all the grime moves from the streets and into your mind and into your relationships. It seeps down and infects everything. Be thankful for the little bit of puke in the streets. It’s what keeps you sane.”
Gabe walked in.
“Is he high? He better not be fucked up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You called me. Saying something about Hasidic Jews?”
“Give me a...”
“Give you a chance? I’ve given it all I’ve got. I’ve given it everything. And what have I gotten back? The Universe shits on me! Over and over!”
“Gabe, calm down,” Anna placed a hand on his shoulder.
“No! I’m done with it all. I can’t pull anymore hijinks. I’m not going to entertain it anymore. Why are you still here,” he said, pointing at me, “just to make me suffer?
“Remember our conversation in the hospital?”
He stopped for a second, his arms went slack.
“Pull no stops? Capitalize? The 747?”

>>13441766
“Okay. Let’s say you actually have a contact in the Jewish neighborhoods. What will make them different from any of the other investors?”
“They’re insulated.”
“From what?”
“From your identity?”
“Don’t fuck around with me.”
“I’m sorry, I meant to say, they probably aren’t familiar with your unfortunate status as a meme.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Hear him out, Gabe. You’re the one being ridiculous. You’re the one lacking ambition in this situation,” Anna said.
“Motherfucker,” Gabe said quietly.
“All we need to do is get some Hasidic clothes, hats, some fake curls and pose as someone named Brother Eli.”
“Okay,” Anna interjected, “Gabe was right. This is insane.”
“You want this? You really want this? Or are you only pretending? You said to pull no stops. None at all. This is me doing what you said. This is the moment things change, and the only way to do that is to change ourselves.”
“‘Pull no stops’ doesn’t mean fraud.”
“Don’t use that word around me.”
“You’re asking us to commit a crime.”

Took out the names because OC do not steal.

Not because I think someone will steal anything, but because I really find the word REDACTED funny

>>13441797
The voice and style is very boring. It's a monotonous slog. The subject matter is nice and snappy, but what does the description of the ivy league building have anything to do with the encounter? Why is it in the same paragraph?

I wanna write isekai shit for a western audience. Literally just developed upon a shower thought.

Gonna have muh frumpy bookish girl with an attitude become a mage, and muh disenfranchised mid-twenties lowlife guy become a warrior/rogue. But first they gotta be struck by mage lightning.

>>13441797
I mean, what's happening?
>>13441930
Edgy, but fanfiction quality can be dumpster and people will read through it.

>>13441360
I like this a lot, reminds me of Federico García Lorca. My suggestion here would be to try and add few more verses at the end, as it sounds all too sudden when I read it out loud.
>>13441470
As a lover of purple prose, my main problem here is that the style, whether intentionally or not, seems dislodged from the characters and the action. To put it with an example, Mircea Cartarescu's writing in Lulu is pretty similar to this, except he doesn't leap straight into the action like you do; he introduces his main character (a teenager who has giving up on trying to live a normal life, and chooses to devote his last years to writing a long poem) and thus makes it clear that the narration is either the protagonist's mind itself, as he becomes obsessed with his classmate, or the author's, as he tries to revive his younger, idealistic self by living vicariously through his main character. Fuck, I need to reread this book now.

>>13442006
>fanfiction quality can be dumpster and people will read through it
That's the point; appeal to the lowest common denominator with blatant wish fulfillment.

So jack these interlocuting paradigmz; two pharaonic broz (let's call them Tutankhamun and Akhenaten) have matching kill-to-death ratioz in Halo Reach and Cowadooty, which happen to match up with Adolf Schicklgruber (Austrian in-patient @ Linz gamer-asylum). Suddenly ya boy Henri breaks in, with a suggestion; travel back to the broad with huge tits that is waiting in Greece, and fight the epic sirenz that SOCRADEEZ NUTZ. Then Arthur shows up, but his prick is flaking, because of over-use with luscious blond Nausikaaz, and he's there to rip niggaz new A S Sholez. Blue-skinned hyperboreanz fall through the windowz just @ th@ point and Kalki literally slices Akhenaten's molarz with an Xbox 720 (limited). Each chapter beginz with, like, poetry or some shit; who knowz? There is also an undercurrent of Marxian analysis of class warfare, but the classez are represented by cute manga girlz, who are T O T A L L Y not paedophilic. Also, demon catz; 4 the gamerz. Really its a rumination on the nature of gothic fiction, & its attempt to reach the heightz of the best mangaz, such as Yu Yu Hakusho, or Naruto. There are also Naziz in the Paris episode; Naziz; if that isn't an epic gamer moment, then what is? Also, I want to write like Louis-Ferdinand Céline, but I suck, but that's okay, because YA suckz.

De l'oubli du sortilège

Lotuses, prayers, polychromatic rains,
One and only craft - rainbows after ashes,
To rearrange chess pieces, pains,
Letting a new game be played
While the previous crashes.

Songs of fiery flowers,
Shaken heads under icy suns cracking,

Homo sapiens, forgotten their powers
Behind their forhead - a strange inkling -

A fading impression
Of white birds returning
To a nest before time.

>>13438074
I unironically love this. It seems like you wrote in multiple sittings though. Could develop a little more smoothly.

Have have themes, characters, and a few setpieces I'd like to write but I have no fucking clue how to thread them all together, let alone start the story.

>>13441917
I feel that's my greatest weakness as a writer. Any tips on how to improve robotic writing? Also that's true. I should have separated it into two paragraphs.

>>13442006
Main character got invited to a university via letter. The woman is in charge of the school and recognizes him from far away because he's the son of a millionaire. Also his hair is distinct.

I tried putting together one of those sonnet things :
She whispered, open your mouth and let loose
the groan of old cabinet wood, and then
unfurl your soul, drape it over your lamp,
so that its glare, now softened, may not light
the martyr-beaten path to perdition.
For these men they have grown tired of seers,
have strewn strange wails at the gallows,
and believe in Progress as a violence
of instants. Blind your eyes to the old curves.
For in this world of nought there are no spheres,
no smoothened forms, no edges that do not
slice and tarnish the flesh anew. Chaos,
that teaming static of broken glass,
will reveal nothing in the sunlight.

THE WOMAN WITH A POEM ON HER BACK

SHE ASKS: WHY MUST I WHISPER?
WHY DOES MY POETRY
HAVE TO FLAY ME?

I CAN'T STRUT
FLAUNTING RILEY'S TWILIT CURTAINS:
I DON'T WRITE
WISPILY UNCAPITALISED AND
INFORMAL; MY WORDS SHOULD NOT BE
PAINTED ON MY FACE

MY TITLES WILL NOT LIVE IN PARENTHESIS.
THEY WILL NOT SIT COMFORTABLY
AND LET THEMSELVES BE COMFORTABLY GOBBLED.
MY POETRY DOES ELASTIC SPLITS BETWEEN CANONS
AND DIVES INTO THE CLAYEY QUARRIES
OF LARKIN AND HILL

I hold Edward close to me. Through him, the bright aspects of your personality stay firm. Months have proven long enough to disregard you from my mind. That what's left no longer has grounds in truth - it's purely created from an image of you I used to have.
It's a cause of true misery to have an idea of someone so perfect, knowing that the memory is false. The awareness of this makes me regret that I have never moulded you into what he is.
Yet, he is only everything I want because he never speaks. If he spoke, he would no longer be perfect. No one who speaks is.
But you were very close, and you spoke a lot. The only imperection was that you made me feel.
I wish you were like Edward. He makes me feel nothing because he is a stuffed animal.

On the path to retribution
Tempted by sin, my soul's confusion
I've acquired the necessary constitution, the constant pollution of my mind cannot stand
a spirit divided from divination was all I was
But now it is time to rise
My pursuit of good will shall face no respite
May the Gods bathe my self with iridescent light

In 2066 Britain there's a man who thinks he's the reincarnation of Oliver Cromwell. He teams up with an Islamic Mercenary Army and they both plot to overthrow the monarchy and install a socialist republic. The film begins in Sunderland, England where this Cromwell guy and his helper are standing in front of a bank facing a map. Cromwell makes a quip about how the whole world will be how he wants it. The two men walk inside of the bank and Cromwell lifts his Uzi to the ceiling and shoots, while his helper kills two guards with his SPAS12 and steals their bulletproof vests. Cromwell holds the people in the bank hostage while his helper steals money. Cromwell tells the hostages that it delights him to think that their children will miss their dead parents; and how he plans to overthrow the monarchy because it is "politically incorrect". Police from outside shout at Cromwell and tell him that they will blow up the walls to enter into the building. Cromwell responds by lining up two people on each wall of the bank. Eventually, Cromwell shoots all of the hostages and him and his partner flee the scene with the money.

They use this money to hire people and buy weapons so they can start a revolution in Britain. Eventually they form the British Republican Army and relocate to London. A revolution does occur and the current King is captured. He is tied to the nelson statue in Trafalger Square and shot in the torso by Cromwell. He is later beaten, but not killed, by an angry mob.
One person (a professor) who was watching in fear walks up to the beaten King and takes the King back to his apartment.

The professor aides the King with bandages and they watch news reports of the revolution together. Eventually the Professor changes the channel and it's a news report of a large sea monster discovered of the coast of Guinea-Bissau.

The professor's toddler daughter walks in and sees the news. The professor talks about when he was a boy, nobody knew about sea monsters. Over the years the child grows an obsession with the Sea Monster. Meanwhile the former King and the Professor create a militia that seeks to restore the monarchy.

>>13446059
Eventually, American Scientists capture a Sea Monster and put it in display in the San Diego zoo. When the professor's daughter turns 18 the Professor gives his daughter tickets to go to San Diego and study the creature. She immediately leaves to the nearest airport. After that, the militia (not including the professor) ship off the the Falklands (The King is still King of the Falklands) to fight invading Argentina. A battle ensues and every Argentine is killed, but the King is left badly wounded. One of his servicemen comes to aid him. The serviceman notices that the King has a pager in his pocket. He listens to the pager and hears guns cocking and people whispering. The King then says that he sent in a militiaman to infiltrate the British Republican Army, because they were planning on killing the professor's daughter while in the airport; and the Militia needed information on their attacks.

Scene changes to the airport parking lot where Cromwell is discussing their attack with his henchmen. The infiltrator becomes emotionally unstable and tries to persuade Cromwell to not go through with the attack. Cromwell then shoots the infiltrator with a handgun, and Cromwell and his henchman escape to an elevator, where there are transported to the lobby of an airport. Cromwell and his men pull out machine guns and start firing into the crowd, and throwing grenades while they are reloading. They proceed slowly, killing everyone in their path, including the professor's daughter. The shooters escape.

The news gets to the professor and he falls into depression. He vows to catch a sea monster and bring it to London in her memory.

The war continues as militiamen ship to Monaco so they can move into the Falklands. At the Monaco Harbor, there are thousands of immigrants and militiamen. Cromwell's bank robbing buddy from earlier is walking among them. He ties an atomic bomb to his chest and detonates it; Obliterating the harbor and all of Monaco.

A regiment of five militiamen investigate the origin of the atom bomb that was used. Eventually they find that the bomb was supplied by Ethiopian dictator, Sebastian Amori III. The regiment ships over to Ethiopia to find him on a ship. The Leader of the regiment sneaks on deck to find Amori chatting with Cromwell. The leader sees a statue of a lion holding a sword. He breaks the sword off of the statue and takes it. Cromwell flees to a nearby helicopter. Amori grabs a sword and decapitates the leader. Two regimental soldiers tackle Amori and take him down inside the ship and they crucify him to the wall of the ship and set off a charge in ship thus causing it to sink. The soldiers escape.

>>13446064
The United States and France get involved in the war after allegations that the BRA had been making concentration camps to house political opponents. One French general attempt to free prisoners but soon gets placed in a camp. He sees a wall with a monument to socialism consisting of a hammer and sickle, with an actual pickaxe in place of the hammer. The general takes the pickaxe and sneaks behind a guard and uppercuts him in the back with the pickaxe. He starts a riot in the camp. Just when the guards start to shoot at prisoners, the USA army bursts in and shoots at guards.

As the war continues, the twentieth anniversary of the airport shooting occurs. The professor now has a sea monster. A festival is to occur for the monster's arrival. The monster is held in a large cage. Anyway, the crowd starts praising Cromwell for allowing them to see the monster, and the crowd even insults the victims of the airport shooting. Angered, the professor releases the monster on the crowd. The monster later tears through downtown London, destroying buildings and costing billions in damage.

The USA begins to fight off some of the BRA's allies (one of them being the Taliban) and arrives in Chechenya. The USA recruits some Russian warriors to fight off the Taliban in Chechenya. After an altercation with the Taliban, the soldiers rest. A Russian remembers how the Soviets killed his great great grandparents for stealing potatoes, and he comments on how Cromwell and Stalin are pretty much in agreement with each other. The soldiers walk further and find a Taliban officer. The Russian has a flashback. It turns out this officer was involved in the Beslan School Siege. The Russian seeks vengeance. The officer is arrested and hauled to a shack where he is questioned by the Russian. After the interrogation is complete, the Russian takes a knife doused in pig fat and stabs the Taliban officer in the eye socket, killing him.
The Americans are called to London to fight off the sea monster.
All efforts fail.

It is revealed that the professor's daughter had a boyfriend. The boyfriend is currently on a plane flying from London. The boyfriend looks out the plane window and sees the monster climbing up the Clock Tower of London. The boyfriend orders a steak from the stewardess and is given steak with a steak knife. He stabs the stewardess and hijacks the plane, and crashes it into the skull of the sea monster, killing it.
Cromwell is on a different plane. Next to that plane is a plane containing the professor. The professor jumps on Cromwell's plane and wrestles Cromwell. The professor takes a rope, ties it around Cromwell's neck, and pushes Cromwell out of a glass airplane window, breaking his neck and killing him.

>>13435190
"I'll always love you" feels out of place in the scene.

The scene is cliche.

The details about her high angled cheeks and tan and sunburn seem out of place. If she was tan and had high angled cheeks I think we should have already known this by chapter 4. Put in details about her that give up more information about what happened between them or what motivated what she did etc.

That's my basic critique, I'm not a writer.

>>13435733
I don't think these are bad ideas but you still have to write with details that serve a purpose. Don't try to make it boring just because you're depicting regular people. Regular people wear indications of their lives, and you can use those as details.

The Icarus-lined inkling cuts through,
a spidery web fraught with dry fruit
turns inside out and lends a hand.
A gentle quake pats the king's soles,
reassuringly. The industrious bee plots
as his cohort, reincarnating as fertilizer.
Earth's delicious snack: a throbbing heart
and spicy ramen. The heat hurts me not;
I can fend for myself. I can fend
for those larger than those smaller,
for spiritual myrmidons, bands of handymen,
the tailored suit wearing sycophantic jello shooters,
and an extravagant cornucopia of zany persona.
The terrarium walls have begun to crack,
maximum capacity overdrive edging on disaster.
The crickets chirp longingly at the doctor,
"please turn us to dust, we don't want a trial."
Lost and guilty, not the ones you're thinking of—
the men whom you would kill given the chance
none is greater than the after-image
behind the impossible door.
Pass the peanuts.
Pass them in stride.

poets itt are good, prose writers what are you doing ffs

>>13435190
"all the sentences are the same length" is not a style, it's an anti-pattern

>>13435190
You overuse past participles.
The diction is a little muddy in spots due to superfluous use. Shit like, "He got up to get another slice of pizza and then sat down", is a little wonky.
I would say run through your entire novel and give it a line edit or pay for a line edit. It's rough, but ready for a developmental editor.
>>13435699
Too purple but good. Wayyy too many adverbs.

>>13435190
appreciate the idea of how regular and unremarkable the characters are being reflected in the prose, but see pic related. it sounds like a meme, but sentence variation is actually important for keeping your reader from being bored.

>>13446059
Delete this before I lose all of my brain cells.