/lit/ - Literature

>>13570357
>he adverb adverb adverb
Stop this please

>>13570376
It's not egregious in this instance, but generally it's best avoided.

>>13570357
ahh. another one falls for the setting the scene meme.

>>13570385
just keep it simple...

"it's four in the morning, the end of december... I'm writing you now just to see if you're better..."

"On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair; warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air..."

"Ten years ago, on a cold dark night...
there was someone killed, 'neath the town hall light..."

>>13570398
based song lyrics poster, i love those three

>>13570357
this was pretty funny but I'm not sure if that was your intention when writing it. your prose could stand to flow a bit better, though. keep at it.

>hermetics say "all is in THE ALL, but also that THE ALL is in all."


Some young men who go off to college,

Over-emphasize what they learn!

They treat ashes as if they were dust,

Forgetting why they're in urns.

Baptist boys in their thousands say

"God doesn't exist anyway."

And drink their dole for years on end;

"Alcohol is man's oldest friend!

So give me a beer and you'll give me a year

And we'll live forever this weekend!"
Now I'm hardly a saint and I'm hardly a preacher,

And really I'm rather blind.

But I can see the divinity in every creature

From the eye in my mind.

Third eye or fourth eye, I could not count it

All I know is that its amounted
To my traveling through a thousand different beliefs

Just to find God in a maple leaf.

>>13570357
I dont really know what i can say that hasnt been said already but like>>13570376 pointed out, the use of adverbs is infuriating.
>>13571357
Really liked this one actually.

Mine isnt finished yet, but wanted to see how much farther i could drag it on.

>>13571761
cont.

>>13571766
based and redpilled. checked

>>13571357
False humility is never enjoyable to read.

The beginning of a maybe 2500 word story/essay

>>13572570
lmao I fuckin doxxed myself oops

bump

critique my stuff.lol.
Pi nk 3
Ia used to fly away. Seems like broken life's were so yesterday. To twime in a day in tomorrow's death. Seems like when you have a good life light seems to shine on you. For another day. Give up means healing shadows through neverfiction if i have the calm mind in a sqirel to exppain Explain how null life is. Fly away into a land never explored in queals. Anither is a good word to explain how opal can feel like. Breathing in a never fiction universe full of null ideologies and looking but killing time that is yourself, may you never see truth because life is that of null. Explanationism a kneel into foundries with layers of life and death inbetween will curse you. A life into thrown into is a good one. A new nihilism shall be virtues in rocks. Shall you fly away or stay in null. Even ignoring a life. One has the good in them to create something. They will not and explore null itself. Such a beautiful dear life someone lives when one can explain themselves. But a end to all. A null life will lead to narrow ways into a life. Free is just a land away ok.

>>13572570
is this supposed to give off a multicultural hell experience? the prose is rather good.

>>13573964
this needs work, you should think more about grammar.

>>13570357
Good prose, and strong grasp of sentence structure. You show a good variety. The way you write "flows" well (as they say in workshops).
In terms of interest to the reader though: this reads too much like your own fantasy. You should think more about what your reader wants. Which is a a mystery presented to them (doesn't have to be a whodunit; a mystery is any question to be answered) and then lead them along towards the answer. I have not read enough to know if you are doing this or not in later pages. However, in this over flooded world of lit, you should be more immediate in presenting the problem that we all want solving.

>>13574899
Nah it's literally just what happened to me one day when I walked from Harlem 125th to Columbia to visit my girlfriend. You want the rest?

>>13574899
>>13575740
also thank you

>>13572589
You did the right thing in posting a SC though.
My critique: you know how to compose well. On paper it all looks good. However, there's nothing grabbing the reader, making us want to read more. I would suggest having more of a definite concept behind the story, or, if you already do have a concept, presenting it earlier in the narrative. It could only be referenced to and not fully expounded upon yet, but we do need something there for us to grasp onto if we are going to continue reading. That is unfortunately the market as it stands.

>>13570357
it's very clunky. you don't need to describe in detail so much if you're not describing the right details. also it's a solid block of text, I'd break it up a bit
>>13571357
its quite purple and it sounds like it was written in the nineteenth century. take the ideas and say them in your own voice, it'll feel more honest
>>13571761
this is also really purple, it comes off as a big list when I can tell its trying to be really poignant. also lose the exclamation points

>>13575762
Thanks. This is a not-quite journal entry/essay that I wanted to remember, my main reason for putting it here was to see if it interested others.

>>13570357
Second sentence isn't really a sentence, it's just a drawn out prepositional phrase. Not sure if you really care, but it caught my eye.
Consider a break at the quotation in the first paragraph.
First sentence has a grammar issue "being be set up."
Not clear as to whether or not John has met this old man, Mr. Harrison, before. If he hasn't, then I don't think Mr. Harrison's name should be mentioned until they are introduced.
Entirely subjectively, I do not find John's thoughts interesting at all, and they aren't exactly cogent either. Is he a modern man? Who is a 21st century guy and still says "negro?" Who seriously thinks to himself words like "can't indulge in such trifles?" Is he then a man of culture? If so, his language seems inconsistent when he thinks "Well at least I fucking tried." A more sensitive person would think something like "Well, I tried." The expletive is low-brow.
I also think you're throwing too many big things at the reader too fast, and it can be grating, under the assumption that this is a first page. Immediately thinking about the finer features between the races of women is just not a good look, my guy.
Maybe you're trying to go for some cute Updike "give the mundane it's beautiful due" vibe, but this ain't it.

>>13570357
Saying 'crimean war' and 'negro artist' is just larping as an old writer, which is sad because I enjoy some of your writing.

>>13575813
you don't need Thus and So. One or the other. IF you go with Thus, add "that" after happened.

semicolon in place of that first period.

omit "while searching for wild mangoes".

rewrite the last sentence in the first paragraph. I would put a semicolon in from of that yet instead of the comma (assuming you stick to that template when rewriting).

In the sentence beginning "He was the type", omit everything after nightly drunken rages.

I like it.

>>13575813
you don't need Thus and So. One or the other.

semicolon in place of that first period.

omit "while searching for wild mangoes".

rewrite the last sentence in the first paragraph. I would put a semicolon in from of that yet instead of the comma (assuming you stick to that template when rewriting).

In the sentence beginning "He was the type", omit everything after nightly drunken rages.

I like it.

An experiment in prose to introduce a character with placeholder name 'A'. The entire story keeps descriptions of human bodies as a motif; and the idea of disgust is prevalent throughout the thing. For example, I'll have a autopsy scene. I'll post a speech made by the same character about this disgust in a previous chapter if someone wants it.

>>13575923
I realize there's a typo in the first line. I've already corrected it so leave it alone. ( I copy pasted it from the middle of a chapter)

>>13570357
I have something that I'd really, REALLY, want someone to say something about. Please tell me if it's interesting. It's in my native portuguese, but I'll translate it real quick into English for you.

July, the cool evening, the big backyard of Dad’s house. Immaculately trimmed bushes next to cute little cobblestone paths, wind chimes and Tibetan prayer flags and the big security searchlight up above on the house. I guess if one of the crackheads down in the Cowen Park ravine stumbled into the backyard late at night that light would turn on and scare them off, in theory. Anyway there we were, watching as the sunset drew blood from the clouds. Tristan was clearly impatient, wanting to go off and meet one of his girls probably. Dad sat still in that high-quality canvas chair like Buddha under the banyan tree, breathing audibly through his nose. His hands rested limply on the bulging pockets of his cargo shorts. Liz squinted at the bloodrust of the western sky and chewed her camembert thoughtfully, carefully.

>>13573964
I find this really strange to read. I've found out that when writing, you should always think about what the reader will be able to figure out, otherwise you're just writing for yourself, and writing for yourself just to make you remember what you have felt, seen or discovered and it's scribbles to everyone else.

>>13575940
Hey, that's nice.

>>13572570
This sound good. I'd read it if I had nothing to do, I think. It's well-written, but at the same time it isn't as interesting enough for some reason. I don't know, maybe it reminds me too much of myself. You are still 18 though (from your story) and so I'm pretty sure you'll just get better as you grow.

>>13575957
Thank you for your input, it's much appreciated.

>>13575951
not the person who wrote this but damn this is some good advice

>>13575940
It reads like a screen play. Not a good thing if it's anything but.
>>13575923
>thick voices and thick minds
>windows agape eyes and wide open doorless wordless mouths
What the fuck are you saying? This is going to sound mean but you need to hear it, your writing reads like someone fed an AI common pulp novel words and Stephen King's The Dark Tower series and it spit this out at random. The one line I enjoyed is "in the desert, one walks in circles forever." but my Lord if it wasn't beaten to death by everything else around it. How exactly is the desert "the land of enlightenment" again? I would say step away from this for a few months and come back to it.

>>13570357

>>13576145
>AI common pulp novel words and Stephen King's The Dark Tower series and it spit this out at random.
Is the Dark Tower bad?

>>13576146
I loved the opening two sentences. To be entirely honest, the font and my overtired brain conspired to prevent me from reading much else, but I'll come back in the morning

I felt an old familiar anger start to grow. Being cautious was survival for me and right now it was like a fucking animal tearing me up inside warning me not to tell and warning not to bring back the flooding pain of memories I tried so hard to forget. But she was right, she had proven I could trust her when I told her I murdered a family and didn't call law enforcement. Didn't scream or panic. She understood. She listened to what my reasons, my justification was and understood it better then I thought she was capable of. It was why we were drawn together so tightly. I could trust her.
"I did it because no one else was going to see them punished. No one else shed a fucking tear for my brother and sister but me and my family. We had to suffer this sick shit that tore our love for each other and for life right the fuck open while everyone laughed and got to smile and fucking live with everything taken for granted. My mom ended up killing herself over this bullshit because she wanted to smile again with Jacob and Claudia. I'm the last of my family Agnes while those Halfords are many and content," I spilled out in fury, letting go of her hand and trying very hard not to get up and break the shit out of something in her office.
"But the Halfords aren't many Thomas. You did very good," Her sweet voice soothed.
"I did...I did what no one else was going to fucking do and I became a demon doing it Agnes. But that's okay, that's worth losing my soul over. Killing their children and stopping their bloodlines from growing was worth it Agnes. Don't feel sorry because I don't,"

>>13576165
You find playfair a hard font to read? I find Arial and even Times New Roman so indescribably bland that I find it not only a bore, but even wonder how people stand seeing the same font over and over again.

>>13576186
It's nice and fun, but it lacks something. It's bland, in a way, I can't explain it, but if the content is good I'd read it.Not that I have much ability myself either though.

>>13576165
Here it is in text because I'm on my phone right now and can't screenshot in Arial:

How to make the reader feel what I feel? In this question lies, I believe, the core of any and every literary problem, the one which all artists, since the beginning of time until the days of the present have been attempting to answer - be it through their works or through their responses to questions of literary theory - but have been unable to do beyond the mere meagre and phoney copies of what these same artists are able to feel in the core of their being, thus never doing justice to the original : there is something in this lived consciousness which cannot be communicated. The job of the artist, be it for the mediocre up to the most exalted one, consists merely in this - to make the other feel what he feels - but since he is unable to do it, that is, he isn’t capable of transmitting that intense vividness; that indescribable reality which incorporates all his being whilst simultaneously thrusts itself into his consciousness and existence, has to contend himself with creating stories, writing poems, along with all other types of imitation which attempt to express at least a tiny bit of his vividness and consciousness. The artist however, unconsciously comprehends that he will never be able to bring to the fore what he really feels and experiences, and so he sets out to - insatiably - to create artistic forms which are faded to represent only a fraction of his innermost reality, this one being only possible to be lived through the sensibility granted to him only. This is the reason why, I believe, every noteworthy artist feels that something is missing from him, regardless of the work that he has been able of completing, since he will always have this feeling that he will never have the capacity of creating a work which is able to show others what he feels (his World), the result always being a certain dissatisfaction generated by the dissonance between what he lives and what he creates. All of us, especially the artists (because we feel it), are granted through existence a certain solipsism which incapacitates that we properly express what we feel - this being the reason why all works of art cannot consist in what the artist in fact feels (if this were the case, then all works of art would merely be a reliving of the artist, which never is, and even in the works of a more auto-biographical nature what we have is merely something that attempts, as much as it can, to recreate a mere certain sensation) but only a variety of works which intend to incite something into the spectator. On the other hand, my work, which even though must fail in its undertaking (which has also happened to all of those before me) must deal directly with this same theme.

>>13576153
Substitute dark tower for Casshern Sins. You’re missing the point.

>falling for the asian woman meme

>>>/pol/

>>13576197
I do at 2am, yes

>>13576197
>>13577620
To clarify, it wasn't like I couldn't make it out, it was just more tiring than times new roman

>>13572570
why the hell did you write it in present tense?

>>13576249
I like it, and believe that any of what appears to be wordiness or slight clumsiness is probably just a translation issue that can't be avoided

>>13571761
it's both gross and you can't tell what's going on. Not a good combo.

>>13577630
I started in past tense and didn't like how it sounded, guess I wanted it to seem more immediate/current

I just thought this was the best place to ask this.

When we speak, we communicate vocally.
When we write, we communicate ________.

Wrote this yesterday, seems like a fun start of a novel

>>13577683
Verbally?

Am I ready to send this to an agent, /lit/?

>>13578296
Speaking is still verbal because you're using words. Is there a word to describe writing that doesn't relate to sight? I was thinking visually, but then you're conflating words with pictures.

>>13577683

Silently?

>>13576186

Not bad but this requires context. Cannot really offer a judgment without knowing the narrator's motivations, why Agnes cares, who the Halfords are and why the MC seems to share some kind of hatred for them. The prose itself is fine, if not a little stuffy (e.g., "didn't call law enforcement).

>>13576146

Not bad but requires a cleaner, non-italicized font and better translation. The opening is strong and then veers into "purple" the longer it goes on. Not sure anyone would want to continue reading an essay-length diatribe on the subject.

Today we put some new dirt into the ground next to a parking lot, because some other people had put the wrong kind of dirt there two days ago. That old dirt didn’t look right - it was the wrong color, consistency and most likely a few other things. This new dirt looked better, smelled better, and was - we all agreed - dirtier. A few days later, we planted trees in the new dirt next to the parking lot, and a few days after that, new trees to replace those ones because the wrong kind had been planted. Now, we stood and sat around on rocks next to the new trees and the new dirt, tired but glad that we wouldn’t have to do that again for a long time.
“That’s the thing with contractors,” said one guy, standing up from a big rock he had been sitting on, “they always mess it up every time.” I agreed that they did. “At least these trees are a lot better looking than those first ones,” and I agreed that they were.

When the day was over I called M and K to meet at the Chateau for revisions to The Work. In twenty five minutes I heard their cars pull up to the small house I lived in the basement of and parallel park beside the sidewalk before shuffling up the brick steps to the door of the little building. I heard the unlocked door creak open, and they came down the wooden stairs in the house which lead to the basement where I sat in a chair holding out an opened pack of cigarettes. They both took one and relaxed in worn out chairs around my table covered with stacks of books, papers, journals, pens and pencils and a few other things.
“I have some ideas tonight,” I said. I got up and walked on the grey hard floor between more stacks of books, crumpled wads of paper and miscellaneous scattered items of little importance to get to the wooden cupboard on the wall from which I withdrew three glasses and a bottle of Jameson. Now with each of us holding a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, we leaned forward with stoic devotion to continue The Work we had started about five years ago and will finish any day now, unless it takes the rest of our lives.

>>13575740
Sure, i'd love to read the rest.

>>13570357
The beginning of a narrative of a vacation I took with my Mom and Brother a few years ago.

>>13571357
Proper Reddit this one

>>13578325
This is really good. Excellent sentence structure

>>13575940
gonna post two more excerpts from this, my work in progress

>An enormous stick or branch, browned by wetness, stretched between two rocks across from my vantage point. You can stand here and just watch and hear the water churn and think and think for hours. Usually I think about my past and how I slipped through the cracks. Bird-chirping permeated through this whole scene. Stand here for long enough and the chirping and the water rushing sounds might just trickle through your body like they trickle through the trees. Below or maybe above it though I could hear the gray dead sound of highway roar, America’s cosmic microwave background. Is there anywhere you can’t hear the highway? I guess there is but it doesn’t feel like it.

>We could see a hummingbird spasm in front of the feeder. “Look at the little one,” Liz said and scrunched her face up. “Glory be! Marvelous creatures.” She wore a big straw hat and a bland summer dress hung loosely on her gaunt frame. Dad was in one of his canvas chairs with a fan turned on him. It blew his curly hair around willy-nilly. With those sunglasses on he looked for all the world like he could have been asleep. I nibbled at the provolone while Liz went “Oh-oh-oh!” at each little twitch of the hummingbird. It didn’t really move so much as teleport slightly from side to side, its wings never ceasing their blur. Its delicate head jerked, reasonless, patternless. Then it drank a little more of the sugar water in clean quick nips. “There he goes! The little bobadoba!” Liz exclaimed as it flitted off into the chemical sky.

>>13578373
good point

it sucks. Fuck you buddy.

>>13580684
>genius who has lots of sex
More like retard who has no sex, considering you didn't reply to anyone!

>>13578476
Honestly, upon rereading it (a few months later) I don't think it has much merit, but here you go

>>13580692
okay listen up retard. I am many times smarter than you; And I have lots of sex (with attractive women). How about you fucking that brain. You just cant comprehend what message i was trying to imply. So shut the fuck you repulsive retard ass

>>13580719
Understood.

Can I get a critique please!!!! I would very appreciate

I want to be cold
And discard the electric heat
Because I’ve been still since birth
With pavement under my feet

I don’t know how to run
And there is certain death
But it’s nice to see

I want to suffer against the wind
And have my wet body
Slowly kill me from frostbite
I want to hold myself tightly

>>13580855
Actually no do this instead:

>I keep hitting my head
>On the cement walls
>Under distorted heat
>I don't bleed

>I don't know how to run
>And there is certain death
>Sleeping under a tree
>I don't believe in me

>I want to suffer against the wind
>And have my wet body
>Slowly kill me from frostbite
>I want to hold myself tightly

>>13578325

willing to do a crit-for-crit with anyone on this piece

Ozko 7 #R~Vn);{^

>>13570357
>eery and not eerie
Why?

>John, young Mr. opposite,
Word salad

>mincing in perplexation
ughhhhh

Your voice and dialogue are awful.
Your protagonist is probably a self-insert and is entirely unlikable and uninteresting.

>>13571766
>its/it's mistake
>redundant phrasing
>inconsistent verb tenses
>failed rhyming scheme
>illogical statements
>so many other problems

>>13572570
>two heavy
This reads like a writing exercise diary where you just wrote about what the title says it's about.

The prose is fine, but there's no reason for others to read it aside from it being a pure writing excercise.

>>13573964
Seems I was right.


>>13573964
What is your native language? It isn't English. Machine translation from your native language would probably have worked out better.


>>13573964
Dear Luke Fuentes (the name I've assigned you),

Trees do not have skin.
>unbelievable a previously
They certainly have a variety of flora available to them.
There's too much wrong with this for me to go into detail after considering how much it would help.

>>13573964
Omnipresent romantic idealism of the desert.

>THICK, THICK, THICK, THICK
This is a bad kind of thick.

>ones mouth

I rolled my eyes a lot.

>should was away

MUH MUH MUH PURITY THO!!!

Trash.

>>13575940
Strangely written.
Maybe >>13575945 is right.

>>13576146
This is a blog post.

>>13576186
>better then I thought
>my family Agnes
>doing it Agnes
>worth it Agnes
You use commas when you shouldn't and don't use them when you should.

Poorly written angsty drivel.

>>13578059
This is amazingly terrible. It's a lost cause to say anything else.

>>13578325
How does he know it's 6:30AM?
Personally, I found it to be entirely uninteresting and wouldn't want to read more. I have no idea what it's about. The best case is that I'm not the intended audience at all.
The prose itself is good enough.

>>13578407
Mysterious in a bad way.
Servicable prose.

>>13578589
I don't think many people would be interested in your diary.

>dollars
Why not Krone?

>geiser
No.

Mediocre prose.

This is my current opening of my fantasy novel. I have like 20k words currently. I posted it in /sffg/ at the request of an anon who said he wanted to read it but he never got back to me.

Anyone I have sent it to has just responded that it is "really good" with minimal constructive feedback. I'd really like to know what I can improve on while I'm writing now rather than having to go back 100k words later and fix everything.

>>13581411
>blanketed in the heat of the forge
How does this connect with the prior statement in this sentence? Why is this one sentence?
Seems to be missing some words.

>guard's
guards'

>favourite
If you must. The "u" is so silly.

>Keldoni...Formen
What's the relationship between the two?

>question the integrity
veracity would be more accurate.

>Tharador
What is this, the continent?

>dimeritium
This looks likely it's from The Witcher and nowhere else. Why are you using it?

Why would you start with this as the opening?

Prose is fine.

>really good
I can't be bothered to verify this in the archives.

>fix everything
I see, so you think it'll be an entirely acceptable first draft.

>>13570357

The sun peers through my blinds
Its morning time,

I shut my blinds, to relax my eyes
Oh, mourning time.

A little sunlight may do me good.
But first to take care of my morning wood.

As the sun paints my room,
A radiant sheen.

I paint my hands, and pants,
Soft silky cream.

There is nothing else to do,
in times of mourning.

There is naught to do,
In morning time,

As the tissues lay crumpled,
in a dust-collecting bin.

The urge pass over,
and now simply boring.

Thinking about you,
In the morning.

>>13570357
i really feel your vocab is too limited for the type of prose you're attempting to engage in.

>tfw you remember that writing is about joy, it is something you love, have always loved, will always; whether you are published now, next year, or never, it won't matter, because you will be writing until the day you die, and that's not a promise you have made or will have to keep, it's only a fact that has been true thus far and will not change
>you feel relief, you forgot that art was play, and now you remember, it is all okay: write, enjoy, read, sleep

>>13583005
Everytime i start writing poetry i get this feeling, thanks for reminding me dude im gonna write some rn.

>>13578059
Sorry anon but you should read more books and try writing again in 10 years

>I am losing faith...
They went the long way along Abbot Street. Wayne was okay now, he rolled his head along the headrest like he always did, following the arc in the back of his skull. Wayne groaned softly. They passed tall old houses with big yards that all backed on to the saltpans coming off the river; vines and dead leaves crawled through the rusty fences, twisting around wire links and staining what was left of the white paint peeling from the fell apart wood. Wayne held out his hand and grabbed the long stalks of grass hanging over the footpath and let the motion pull them out of the ground as they moved on. He grabbed a violent looking branch and all the thorns ran through his palm and got stuck right into his skin. Wayne began to wail enormously in the middle of the footpath. He held onto the breaks and came around to see him. Hey, hey—well that’s what you get you silly thing! Here give me a look. Here come on, don’t muck around, give me your hand. He took Wayne firmly by the wrist and ignored the tantrum he was throwing; he pulled Wayne’s fingers back to get a look, Wayne closed them but he opened them again, patient and insistent; he sighed very shortly at the black arrows in the skin before he plucked each one out—one, two, three—and he pulled Wayne’s arm back to his chest, predicting his sudden reaction. He pried open Wayne’s palm again and ignored the screaming: he blew cool air onto the palm, gently shushed him, said Okay, come on, mate, he rubbed his fingernails up and down his forearm, and eventually, very softly, stroked his palm and traced Wayne’s four fingers with his own. You’re ‘right, come on. Wayne sobbed quietly. He put Wayne’s hands together and placed them in his lap, nice and safe between his legs. Wayne was okay then. They kept going after a minute and found a crackle of cockatoos on the grass between the road and the path. They were all crawling in the trees above them as well. Wayne yelled out at them from the chair and tried to chase them off with his contorted wrists. Sometimes they all went for a walk together as a family: Wayne, mum and dad, and the boys. The boys loved to run through the cockatoos when they found them. Like a little pair of savages, they burst them all apart in a frenzy of scattered gumby flapping, cutting wonky angles in the air and screeching. Wayne threw his arms at them, tried to yell and scare them. From behind the chair he said Go on, mate, get em’! One scurried off the side of the path and fell in with the other birds, picking at the grass, but that was all he could affect. He gave Wayne a hard pat on the shoulder because they were just a couple of fellas getting along in the world. Lost in thought a short while. The boys were out somewhere playing, she was back at home on her own; would she consider how soon they might be home? any time really—She should know. Wayne groaned.

>>13577683
Significantly, maybe, since the idea is that the words are promoting the reader to visualise and perceive the narrative through their mediation of sensory perception. A novel could be equated as an instruction book for a specific narrative and we're to translate it

>>13571766
pretty shit desu, not helping our cause sounding like a third grader.

>>13571357
unironically can i post this on reddit? i bet they'll eat it up

>>13583409
you can if you want. you think they'll like it? I thought reddit was a hive of new atheist teens.

I'm a screenwriter (or rather trying to become one) but I have written a number of short stories. I wrote this one a few months ago while high, forgot about it and then accidentally stumbled upon it yesterday. I actually enjoy it quite a bit, makes me laugh, but feedback would definitely be appreciated cause I have a hard time understanding prose and shit like that.
Apologies for my handwriting.
1/3

>>13582426
Please set this to music.

>>13583294
This is surprisingly good. I think there's maybe one or two places where you overuse commas/the semicolon to link very short clauses. I get that the aim is to shoot for simplicity, and not a bunch of fancy linking devices, but it's a little repetitive inside a single paragraph. I also think "Okay, come on, mate" reads oddly as speech. Overall though, I'm a big fan.

>>13583503
fuck hang on lets try this again
1/3

>>13583508
2/3

>>13583515
3/3

The whole gluten thing was down to her then-husband. Then-husband being better than “ex”. When people talked about their “ex” it was like an official position, the one past relationship dignified with a name, even if it was one of those positions like mother-in-law or old schoolfriend that only counted in an obligatory sort of way. Andrea's husband on the other hand was entirely in the “then” category. She would have taken out a restraining order on him, if she'd really needed to.

The way it was, back then, was that her husband was into the placebo effect. He was fascinated by it, and actually it was a bit of a bonding thing between the two of them at the start, because she was into alternative medicines. Andrea's then-husband felt like what the whole placebo thing showed really was the power of the mind, which could obviously heal you if you believed hard. Not from an amputations or anything, but from quite a lot. What you had to do was divide the medical stuff into the physical stuff your brain couldn't help with and the sort of body management stuff that it could. Magician, he used to say, was an old-school word for a man with an education. Someone who understood. So that meant that when people laughed at magic crystal therapy or homeopathy or vaccines what they actually needed to do was try and get an education. That way they could use the magic too.

Not getting kids was one of those things that went in the body management category, he thought. Which meant all the diet stuff he got interested in – changing up what they ate so as to make a sort of supermarket placebo effect – was a way to solve it. She could look back on it and say that the whole thing was him making up for something, and she was pretty sure that was what a psychologist would say too. But that didn't change what he'd done even a little bit. And telling him something like that wouldn't've helped either.

What he reckoned was that all this gluten-free thing she'd been up to for god knew how long wasn't actually real. It was more like an imagined thing. Like she was medicating without needing to. What he'd said was, why not try eating that stuff again, but this time with positive thinking. So you're eating like any normal person with your full range of vitamins and things like that. One of those executive, man-of-the-house decisions. And the results, no surprise about it, was that all her digestion went to hell, she got tired and tetchy, she got bloaty. Basically everything you could expect. She even got a rash, which was new. That the rash was new was super-interesting for him, since he reckoned that showed that she had only got the rash out of spite at his forcing her to do it all. Which meant that she ought to power through, or else start again but this time believe in him a bit more.

>>13583508
There's some missing punctuation. Also the use of cries at the start is a little clumsy and should probably be "he cries".

>>13583515
Here "digesting" is not what you want to say and I also feel that puking from that position involves challenges you can expand upon.

>>13583524
Aside from "lied" being wrong, I'm not sure about "former wife".

On the whole, I feel time with your thing is not wasted time, but I don't think you can sell it.

gf sent me this, is it /lit/?

Wrote this awhile back, it just came to me
(1/2)

"I need your eyes" Gabriel demanded

"M-My eyes?" Milo asked "Why do you-"

"Don't play dumb with me. I see the way Elaine looks at you. She says you got 'magical eyes'. She's says their real pretty, prettiest she's ever seen. It's all she ever fucking talks about. She says they can see into the future. Can you see into the future, Milo? Can you see all the ways that you ravage her tight little cunt behind my back? All the ways that you can betray me? Are you trying to cuck me, Milo?"

"N-No Gabriel! I never-"

Gabriel slapped Milo to the floor.

"Don't fucking lie to me you shitbag! I know you want her as your mate! You sadsack little pissant! I saved your life and this is how you repay me?! I teach you to hunt and you seduce my mate?! You fucking cockroach!"

Gabriel began to assault Milo. He beat his head in. He slammed his fist into Milo's skull. It cracked. It crunched. He kicked him. Stomped on him. Crushed his little finger bones with his boot. He ejaculated his rage onto him. His jealousy, his anger, his primal hatred, it all flowed through his fists. It was obscene.

Milo sobbed

"P-Please Gabriel! I-I never looked to take Elaine from you! I-I-I was just tryin to be friendly! I-I'd do anything for your f-forgiveness!"

"Then GIVE me your EYES!" Gabriel shouted.

"I-I-I can't Gabriel! I need em t-to see!"

"Give them to me!" Gabriel demanded

"I can't!"

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING EYES!"

Gabriel drew his blade and shoved into Milo's eye socket. Milo screamed. Gabriel ripped Milo's eyes from his head. His hands seized them from his body. Milo shrieked in pain.

Gabriel looked down at his prize. Milo's eyes had been nearly crushed by Gabriel's fists. Nearly. Otherwise they looked quite pristine. They were beautiful. Wonderful, even. They were unique and Gabriel hated them. He shoved them in his pocket and pointed to Milo, who was whimpering on the floor.

"You are nothing but scum. You are less than the grime on my shoes. You are speck of filth on my shirt. I don't wanna see you even around Elaine, you understand me? If you ever try anything like this again, I'm going to butcher you, you got that? You scumfuck bastard. I'll drag you around the city by your innards, I'll fucking flay you in the town square. You understand me? You're lucky I don't kill you now. If this had been anyone else I'd be bludgeoning you with your own bones by now, got that? Consider yourself admonished. Don't you ever, EVER, go near Elaine again!"

Gabriel slammed the door behind him.

Milo wept.

>>13583600
He did not understand what he did wrong. He never thought a lustful thought about Elaine in his entire life. He just didn't. He didn't think that way. He didn't register those feelings, they weren't in his DNA. But he must have done something wrong. Gabriel's judgement was absolute. It was the word of the future. It was the prophesizing of a new Millenia. Gabriel knew better than anyone. His word was God. He was god. Milo had brought down the wrath of God upon himself. He must have done something wrong, there's no other explanation.

Milo wept to himself. He was bloody, sobbing, mucuousy mess. He was disgusting. He was nothing but a worm. A pathetic little worm who had angered God. That's what Milo thought at least. It was the only way he could rationalize it. His body was seared in pain. It punctured his very soul. He payed there and cried all night. He sobbed, he wept, he screamed in hysteria. He cried until his eye sockets filled with tears. His wounds would heal. His bones, his arms, everything would heal eventually. But his eyes never com back. He sat in darkness and screamed to no one.

It was his fault, he decided. He angered Gabriel. He became careless with his dealings. He somehow seduced Elaine without even knowing. He had become an unknowing, unwitting lecher. It was a righteous punishment, then. He deserved every blow he got. He deserved his beating. He deserved to lose his sight. Every ounce of cruelty he received was well earned and well needed. No sin can go unpunished. Gabriel's action were of love, not of hate. He so loved Milo that he couldn't bear to tolerate the depravity that he had sunk into. He simply corrected his behavior. That's all there was to it. Gabriel saved Milo's life from descending into sin. And Milo was thankful for it.

(Shit, meant 2/3)

>>13583619
Milo finally managed to compose himself. Standing up, he was able to hobble to his bathroom where, by memory, he found a small cloth that he kept. He carefully wiped the blood and mucous trickling from his nose. The bloody tears where his eyes used to be drained out into the sink. It was a good feeling. To be clean. Both inside and out. Gabriel had purified him. He was so happy. He knew, of course, that the sight of an eyeless man wouldn't be appropriate in this organic society, so he took the cloth and wrapped it around his face, around his eyes. He smiled a broken smile as he imagined himself. He thought he looked pure. In reality, he looked putrid. But Gabriel’s judgement was final, and so Milo's innocent grin only grew as he imagined how clean the world would look after Gabriel’s vision was realized. He saw the future of the city, even without his eyes. It would be pure and whole, just like Milo has been made pure and whole.

His happiness not fading, he left the bathroom, promptly tripping over stool which he did not remember being there. The bone in his leg shot through on impact. Milo’s pain was so great that he fainted from it. The ceiling fan whirring was the only sound as the unconscious, eyeless man layed there. Blood seeped from his wounds.

(3/3)

Can anyone here critique my work? Can't translate it to english, you know what they say, "traduttore, tradittore". I wrote this to a girl I've met only by webcam.

te hablo como se le habla a un fantasma
el recuerdo de una madre que jamás dejaste de amar
aún después de la muerte
y la sinceridad de quién le está hablando
a una tumba
a una lápida
a un pájaro
a mi gata
a los seres del espacio
en los que cada vez confío más
me traeran los bienes necesarios
para construir este asilo letrado
para construir

te hablo con mi corazón en la mano
latiendo al ritmo de tus entrecortadas palabras
de tu incoherencia
de cuando tratas de decir más
de lo que eres capaz de decir
en lo poco que te otorgan
las frases de un español
que nos constriñe
los unos y ceros de una máquina
que nos libera
que nos convierte en palomas
en águilas nos convierte
y podemos volar lejos
lamiendo nuestras heridas en vuelo
con la lengua de tus antepasados
que mostraste, mientras yo
embriagado
te di el terror como un niño en tus brazos
y te dije que lo cuidaras
como cuidaste a un gato
como cuidaste a un hombre

los monstruos en tu cabeza saldrán a jugar
y jugaremos con ellos
bailaremos las tonadas de la noche
y cuando se acaben
dormiremos sobre los rosales, sangrantes
llenos de alegría
por el pacto que hemos realizado
los monstruos de mi cabeza saldrán a jugar
y seremos dos en el mismo baile
que hiciste cuando tomaste la pantalla
y la levantaste juguetonamente
sobre tus hombros
y giraste sobre tí misma
tantas veces
que perdí la cuenta del amor
que te tengo
que nos tengo

vivamos entonces las desventuras
de una tristán e isolda modernos
deslengüados, enfermos
destripémonos como en una cirujía filipina
comamos sesos de mono sobre el plato
que no osas lavar mientras yo esté presente
eres una ama de llaves
en el hostal de mi alma
limpias la basura que hay en mi pecho
y aireas mi cabeza
de oreja a oreja

volemos, querida, para siempre
en un nunca acabar de colores
y bésame en un beso intangible
en una lengua que toca mi lengua
pero hecha bits
pero hecha unos
pero hecha ceros
pero hecha imagen
pero hecha sonido

bésame en los labios en el cine que tienes escondido
en lo más oscuro de tu cuarto
en ese cine existo yo
en esa película yo te amo
en esa música, es la única donde existo
no onions más que una tensión electrica
entremedio de tus piernas

>>13583577
>I also feel that puking from that position involves challenges you can expand upon
yes this is something i thought of, a man with no stomach cannot puke but i figured i was going for absurdism. But you're right, i should expand upon it, and it can be explained (ie the vomit is the bile of the bed traveling up through his throat).
Would you mind expanding on any of these critiques? Like why is digesting not what I want to say?
thank you for the feedback regardless

>>13583750
His body is not digesting. It is being digested.

>>13583756
ahhhhhhh thank you these are things i need to be more careful

Wagecucking now, gonna post some crits later
This is some stuff I typed on a toilet, enjoy

>>13584179
Nice man, I think it was good until the sentence that starts:
>solidified in place...
After that I think it starts to fall apart, but the first section is pretty good, I would just combine a couple of those short sentences together so it flows better

Above all else fucking proof read

oh boy here we go

>>13570357
what do i do?
what should i create? this condition
is mine... and what ambition
would it be? to overcome
the entrenchments of a decade sum...

how shall i dispense
with what i know, with
what ive been informed with...
it's not enough to say
what's been said before today

must i say it all? yes i must...
the history, the
agglutination of theory,
the emotion, incarnate, specific
it's not enough, i must be monoloithic...

the task is... the task
at hand is... too challenging
Who will hear me if I sing?
If I write, what page would break
the silence, what page would adjudicate?

I feel the anger of my peers, the brides
of embodied concepts, the passionate
strides, caresses of affectionate hate...
who deride, decide, berate, disintegrate... destroy
whoever they must... princes, judges... I am just a toy

>>13584621
Shoddy grammmar/punctuation. Most of the polysyllabic, fancy words are clunky and out of place beside the rest. The use of questions reminds me of Eliot's Love Song of Prufrock; is that something you are trying to imitate? I think they work in this case to convey a faltering stream of consciousness narrative. I would encourage you to elaborate on the message, and either improve upon or abandon the circumlocutory style. It definitely needs some editing/proofreading as well.

>>13584750
b-but muh superiority complex

>>13584750
Here's my partially written poem, folks. I intend to compose a few more stanzas for it.

Critique/suggestions/degradation appreciated.

>>13584771
M-muh butt hurts

>>13584783
shit, that post was not meant for this thread
my bad

>>13584750
thanks and yeah i had prufrock in mind

1/2

>>13584896
2/2
This is the first page of a short story. What impressions does it give? Do you like it?

>>13584780
It seems very unfocused. The image of the observer watching the river is the heart of it, it seems, but the first stanza is very disconnected from that. I would focus on that image first, fleshing it out, and have the ideas of the first stanza emerge from the image more organically. Convey it as an impression coming from the image, rather than putting the idea out there and then using the image as a sort of "for example, see this guy over here," if that makes sense.

>>13584941
Noted, thanks. I'll consider a different order once the other stanzas are finished.

>>13581376
>Mediocre prose.
Any tips on how to improve it?

>>13584896
>>13584902
You're prose is nice, but I have no idea what you're trying to say. Both paragraphs could be condensed into two sentences.

You saw sagacious Solomon
You know what came of him
To him, complexities seemed plain
He cursed the hour that gave birth to him
And saw that everything was vain
How great and wise was Solomon
The world, however, did not wait
But soon observed what followed on
It's wisdom that had brought him to this state
How fortunate the man with none

You saw courageous Caesar next
You know what he became
They deified him in his life
Then had him murdered just the same
And as they raised the fatal knife
How loud he cried "you too my son!"
The world, however, did not wait
But soon observed what followed on
It's courage that had brought him to that state
How fortunate the man with none

You heard of honest Socrates
The man who never lied
They weren't so grateful as you'd think
Instead the rulers fixed to have him tried
And handed him the poisoned drink
How honest was the people's noble son
The world, however, did not wait
But soon observed what followed on
It's honesty that brought him to that state
How fortunate the man with none

>>13583628
...Nothing?

>>13585067
first of all I saw this posted in the suicide note thread, and secondly its bertolt brecht's poem anyway. no rating for non oc

>>13570357
It was hard to keep focused on this. But I'm sure it is someone's cup of tea, I think it's generally well written.
>>13572570
Good setting the scene, but it's hard getting a feel for the mood of your story. Good so far.
>>13573964
I like how poetic this feels. It also feels sort of stream of consciousness? Either way, it was a pleasure.
>>13575813
>thus
Seems dum to me, but to each their own. Otherwise, this stuff is a bit hard to follow, someone definitely won't be leisure reading this.

This is my thing, a part of it. I'm hoping to hear about the description and the flow of action and thought. Are they written okay? Also, does this feel YA to you? Thanks.
https://pastebin.com/AngDwM1T

Murad slid one foot forward, off the gritty cement, and plunged himself into the pool. The cool water provided a sense of relief from the overbearing heat which wrapped the world that day. While he was beneath the water, Murad closed his eyes and breathed out. As the bubbles jetted out of his nostrils and rolled up his face, the young man’s body sank. First his shins settled to the ground and then his body followed by folding towards his knees. When his chest was about to come into contact with his knees, Murad stopped exhaling and spread his body out. For a moment, a terribly brief moment, Murad laid there, suspended between the layers of water, while his body bobbed back in forth, in harmony with the currents which continually ebbed with and against one another. Yet to his dismay, such a moment was fleeting; quickly, Murad was pulled up by the head. His head faced the sky while his chest and legs formed an arch. When Murad opened his eyes, he saw the barrier of water which separated him from the world. That layer of water, which was only as thick as the thinnest atom, looked like a piece of silk being blown at by the wind. The way the currents moved so haphazardly above him, creating a mosaic of reflected light across the bottom of the pool, made Murad feel as though he were in a different world. It was as if the barrier were the sky, and whatever lied above it was the stars. Eventually Murad’s head pierced the barrier and once again he was able to breathe again. Once again, he was able to see again.
Please don't go easy

>>13584457
Sentences are choppy and what hard to follow along. Overall though it's not bad, just needs some editing, so keep up the good work.

Also, a bartender who's chilling behind a bar cleaning a glass out with a rag is pretty cliche. Like terribly cliche. It happens in every movie and for the most part doesn't make sense......
But that's just something I personally don't like

>>13581376
>>13572570
honestly that's basically what it was

>>13586836
>>13572570
Thank you. >>13580694 is the continuation.

Chapter IV: The Hall
The chamber doors opened to a cavernous hall, higher than the eyes could see. The lone man walked down the corridor of light into the shadows. The aides in turn, slammed the door shut. He spoke out loud, "Lord Vannel, I seek your great and noble wisdom to evaluate the soundness of my mind. For you are the only being with the ability to comprehend it."
Lord Vannel said simply, "Two lashings for this man."
"I have traveled far to have your judgment before me. May I be so humble to have you allow me up near your throne to hear my words?"
Lord Vannel paused for a moment and slowly said, "Two additional lashings."
He seemed nervous and fell onto his knees. He said, "I only came to seek your words. I did not come here to be punished. You are that above the mere mortal myself."
"One less lashing for this man."
The man dropped even lower and said, "Thank you for your wise and swift condemnation. I will receive this reduced sentence of three lashings. I am ready, my powerful lord." The aides tied the man down and whipped and beat him. Once the beatings were finished, they allowed him to climb the stairs towards the lord. The man said, "I brandish no weapons. I have no ill thoughts. I come here in complete peace. Would you hear my story and cast your way onto me?"
Lord Vannel motioned his hand towards a stone chair next to his throne. "You are ready to sit next to me. You have endured the right amount to allow you to adjust." Lord Vannel paused again, then said, "Give this man... a title." The little man's heart dropped when he heard these words. Lord Vannel said, "You are a corporal now. And now you may speak to me."
The newly appointed corporal became lightheaded and his hands stumbled. His family would be so proud of him. He could not even imagine going back home to inform them of his new rank. His heart beat loudly and his vision became narrow. He forgot about the old requirement to have the lord examine his mind. His blood pumped through his veins rapidly. His eyes moved around with pure abandon. The corporal died from the excitement.
Lord Vannel looked down at the man and pushed a lever away from him. Lord Vannel said, "Take the dead corporal away from me. Put him with the other ranking officials who have perished. Bring me a drink in remembrance of his loss."

A sample from a 100,000 word book I'm writing.

Women believe anything they hear.

They are instinctually programmed to assign truth to anything anyone says in their trusted social sphere with no thought or judgement at all.

Because they had to watch over others constantly since the beginning of humanity, they became selfless. Because they were so close to all the needs and wants of their people, they developed the instinct to trust them absolutely and a true understanding of their people was taken for granted.
Their bodies and minds became dedicated to nourishing their communities. They would listen to the men speaking of what they've done in the wide world and translate the substance to emotional terms that can be understood by other women, and so used to guide the behavior of the children.
When they were relieved of many responsibilities to their people by the 'modernization' of society the trait of selflessness became hollow and so turned to nothing but self-unawareness, leaving the instinct to implicitly trust their social sphere intact to be turned to purposes other than what made it to begin with.

With the addition of 'the media' to modern society, with all of its inherent falsehoods, women are turned completely against their own nature.
Their nurturing instincts are used to nurture the interests of the upper classes as handed down from the media rather than those of the people they see and interact with every day, even their own children.
Instead of being warm with compassion they are cold with judgement calculated from the information they are brainwashed with; willing to go to any length to make their friends and families conform to the dictates of the elite.

So it is that women are the primary tool of the elite to control us all, because men will do anything for their women.
So it is that love is turned against us and the very foundation of our existence is betrayed.

This is the great vulnerability in the mind of the human that is exploited to make empire by slavery.

The only solution is to overpower women completely; to overcome and/or capture the elite's front-line soldiers at any cost.
Life begins with women, without dealing with them you can't do anything at all and all planning is worthless.
This is not a matter of personal responsibility. This is an aberration of society and it requires an organized collective solution.
Men everywhere have to band together in confederated groups, decide on what the law should be, and enforce it autonomously.
By setting our minds on this goal and accomplishing it we will gain the strength to contend with the next battle - 'politics'.

You will never accomplish anything other than the total loss of your humanity by continuing to work under this system.

>>13581376
ignore this moron. he learned the secret of the web is that to trash everything makes you seem smart, even though you have no idea how to make it better

>>13586990
I may have overcompensated for my sentence-stitching bad habit.

I write only as a hobby (I have no hopes of ever being published), but I want to get good.
I only publish in Wattpad, is there another place where I can share my writing, get some exposure and get shat on?
>Your shitty anime story will never be adapted as a netflix series

>>13586990
>>13587606
a bit more

A noise bordering on the edge between a growl and a dry-heave rumbled from her throat, and she spat out a single word dripping with audible disgust.

“Enough.”

Armless closed his mouth and took another sip of that lovely, fruity nectar that the lizards seemed to regard with the same fondness one would regard biowaste. Even as he sat there, he felt the mixture of biogel and stimulants being absorbed and circulated throughout his body, kickstarting, fueling ongoing self-repair processes and refilling biogel reservoirs. Meanwhile, Rika was clearly holding back a strong, visceral sense of disgust and aversion, one entirely unfitting for someone as imposing as herself.

“You come to our town. You fulfill Vezkig's mad theories. You kill Goldeneye. Now open war with the Truthseekers is inevitable. Will you fight like a warrior, or die like a whelp? Time will tell.”

That was… Surprising, to say the least. She didn't exactly speak like someone he would consider to be at the height of civilization, but he could tell she was far from savage. One more sip. The bottle was empty. Squeeze. It crumpled in his grip, he dropped it on the table.

“I am free.”

“They will chain you. You will be an idol. A captive icon of worship.”

“Then they will burn.”

“Time will tell. Tonight we drink. Tomorrow we prepare.”

Armless nodded. Rika gestured at the bartender with two fingers outstretched. He almost missed it, but this time, Armless could see what was happening. The bartender threw two bottles of stimulant in close sequence at Rika, her tattoos lit up, and she caught them faster than any human eye could see. Somehow, the incredibly quick motion didn't cause any extraordinary air displacement, as though instead of literally moving faster, she was accelerating herself in the flow of time.

One bottle was filled with the now-familiar opaque pink and round in shape, which she put down and rolled towards him. The other was much larger, rectangular in shape, and contained bitter-smelling, translucent green liquid. He could tell even from across the table, so noticeable was the aroma when she unscrewed the cap. To be perfectly fair, she didn't complain about the smell when he opened his own drink, despite the grimace she made.

A smaller sip, this time. He wasn't in desperate need of biogel anymore, and so he was drinking for enjoyment more than to refill his reservoirs. Rika pointed at his left arm.

“Can you feel with it?”

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. The bottle felt pleasantly cold against his metal skin, despite the fact heat sensations were still dulled considerably.

“Touch, yes. Temperature is dull.”

Charles sat in the near perfect darkness of his study, the moonlight catching his open pack of cancer sticks as he stared at them. It was always a temptation he failed to resist; The fine calming rush of nicotine was of the few things in life he could still receive a feeling from. But tonight...tonight he somehow had the strength to push them away and turn on his lamp. Awaiting on the desk were ten pieces of blank paper and a pencil. He flexed his hand with a loud aching pop and picked up the pencil and began to write of the pain that would never leave.

To whom this may concern:
In the year 1976, I met a man and woman who butchered my family without mercy or a single human emotion. Their names are Richard and Cynthia Huskins. I have exhausted every legal means to have them incarcerated and executed by state. If not that, imprisonment for the rest of their lives. I have failed in both of these. I blame myself for all of it because of how naïve and terribly weak I had been back then to believe in courts, in lawyers, in police officers who could care less.

To understand my suffering you'll have to go back to a time when the world wasn't politically correct. When those words meant nothing and most people seemed to smile more. I grew up an only child in a cabin with my parents and grandparents on my father's side. We were a close family that enjoyed the silence and solitude of the spruce forest around us. To wake up to a chestnut chickadee singing was more preferable then neighbors yelling at each other through thin walls.

No, I didn't have any friends but I hadn't minded at all nor being homeschooled when I could see bears and foxes, I could chop down trees with an ax, I could fire a gun. Things I found exciting but hunting shadowed over most of it. As his father before him, my father taught me how. How to look for tracks, how key scent is and patience. He taught me patience is most important of all.

>>13571765
>heretic heroin sex poetry
fine, nice rhytm, could have used caps on "I" and "Father", but it might be very well intended

>>13583005
thanks mate, needed to hear that right now

>>13583294
Given your image, is this supposed to be some take on Casca?
Is the title "I am losing faith..."? I don't see how it's related in terms of what is presented in the story.
Is this the beginning? Seems like a strange way to start, but it appears to me to be more of a writing exercise than an actual story.
It would appear that Wayne has some sort of problem and is in a wheelchair. Autism? Polio? Motor neuron disease? Injury? Various other maladies? A combination thereof?
He doesn't seem to be a very attentive attendant as I assume he should have assumed Wayne would grab the thorns.

>breaks
brakes

>Sometimes they all went for a walk together as a family: Wayne, mum and dad, and the boys.
The attendant is the oldest sibling then? Apparently no other females aside from "mum".

If you are only going to use "He" for this unnamed other character, you probably shouldn't also use "He" for Wayne as well.
What were you going for in giving Wayne the focus?
That seems to be why you didn't use quoted text.
As a note, "He" is a Chinese name, but that clearly isn't what you were going for.

The prose is fine, but it isn't my sort of content.
My primary complaint is the uneveness of description between the enviroment and characters, but maybe that was intended.
There was a few other issues to me, but I'm not going to go into them.

>>13583508
Apparently I just read a non-erotic bed vore story.
Due to its problems, I assume this wouldn't be appreciated even on the site that is exclusively vore stories.
I'll refrain from other comments.

>>13583526
Why do you start with Andrea and then for rest of it talk about her unammed husband?
It just reads like someone wanting to complain about someone else rather than actual story.
Clearly the placebo effect is being misunderstood here and it's simply magical thinking.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_thinking
>Not getting kids
This is initially ambigious as to whether you meant as a method for causing or preventing pregnancy.
He then switches over and accuses her of the Nocebo effect, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nocebo
It's a pretty silly story of a gullible and submissive woman and a delusional man.

>>13583594
No, and since it isn't yours, there isn't any point in criticizing it.

>>13583594
Apparently I just read some inconsistently written and entirely illogical self-loathing homoerotic guro story.
I don't even know if the writer realizes that's what he's written.

>>13584179
>coiled like the Gadsden
I don't know how obvious or how many people would know or realize you mean the Gadsden flag.
There are a lot of absurd phrases, word choices, and other similar issues.
Seems that you've written a description of the enviroment and how their collectives selves relate to it in abstract terms.
Boring.

>>13584457
I don't know if you're intentionally trying to confuse the reader, but stories that have an entirely different basis than the standard Earth model don't tend to go over well if the reader is entirely confused about what is happening. Especially so if the author is being intentional with their obscurantism.
If you want more specific details, let me know.

>>13584896
Entirely description and nothing else. Is this supposed to be a prose poem? I have no idea how it continues or how it's going to be a short story.

>>13585020
Read widely of authors who write well.
If your goal is commercial, read widely of authors who sell well.
If your goal is a certain niche, read the best of those in the niche then write similarly.
Write a lot and remember that you're writing for others.
If you want specific advice, there is seemingly an endless supply of resources for that.

>>13586836
>does this feel YA to you
Yes.

>Are they written okay?
The dialogue is rather silly, but it may suit the audience if you are going for YA.
It has some okay ideas, but they seem to expressed in a generic manner and not executed particularly well.
Seems almost like a fantasy version of Fallout and its vaults.
It's more lack of time than interest to go into details, for now.

>>13586978
You use commas in almost every sentence. Is this an intentional stylistic choice? Several of them could be done otherwise.
Why did you choose this image?
My best guess is that you are trying to express the beauty of swimming and its aesthetics.

>>13587448
What is the purpose of this?
How is this chapter 4?
Is this just some utterly ridicolous power fantasy?

>>13587471
>1:3
>have ruined
have been ruined.

>3:2
>pacist
Pacifist?

Is this supposed to be your take on the biblical letters and the bible in general?
I have no idea who the audience for this would be.

>>13587474
Ideological rant.

>>13587494
Are you upset that I used a tripocode unlike previous threads? I may not in the future. It serves a functional purpose though.

>>13587771
Are you intending to write this entirely in the form of a memoir?

>>13588090
I fail to see how that scene is confusing beyond the lack of greater context.

>>13588110
Context is very important.
You may understand it all, but you have to convey that to the reader.
The reader begins from knowing nothing.

>eye-lights
>spontaneously appearing objects
>unmentioned people appearing when they could have been mentioned in the description part
>character being baffled to not reveal info to the reader
>nameless "Armless" protagonist(?) doesn't know his mouth works then describes how it all works
>casually then naming characters who previously were previously unnamed for whatever reason even though the character apparently knew their name
>Vezkig
>Goldeneye
>Truthseekers
>bartender suddenly attacks
>Armless apparently has arms

and a lot more.

I don't know if this is an entirely sci-fi setting or a VRMMO or something else entirely.

>>13588131
He didn't describe it, he literally just opened his mouth to show what it looked like on the inside. beyond that, the rest of the issues you bring up stem entirely from this being a small snip of a bigger story

>>13588156
>>13588131
i posted a segment which comes directly after that here >>13587674

>>13588159
I know. I read it.

>>13588163
i'll post a pastebin with the whole draft once i can

>>13588085
One of these was mine, and thanks for your time bro.

>>13588169
Ok.

>>13588176
You're welcome.

>>13581515
>>blanketed in the heat of the forge
>How does this connect with the prior statement in this sentence? Why is this one sentence?
>Seems to be missing some words.

It connects via a maintaining theme of discomfort and heat the character is experiencing. I hope I have fixed this somewhat in pic related.


>>favourite
>If you must. The "u" is so silly.
I'm using the spelling of all published works in my country.

>>Keldoni...Formen
>What's the relationship between the two?
Keldoni is the culture/ethnicity group that hails from northern kingdoms. Formen is a northern kingdom. I don't want to bash the reader of the head with too much exposition just yet but this should be gained from inference, and is explained further as the story proceeds.


>>Tharador
>What is this, the continent?

Yes, I have changed the sentence so that it read "the continent of Tharador" if you believe this is necessary. I personally am not a fan of it being written this way as the word "in" denotes that it is a continent or island, rather than the planet or world. It might not be entirely clear or obvious though so perhaps it is best to keep it like this.

>>dimeritium
>This looks likely it's from The Witcher and nowhere else. Why are you using it?

Placeholder name as the story is nowhere near done and I hadn't been bothered to come up with an original name yet. A lot of things currently have placeholder names.

>Why would you start with this as the opening?

The story at large focuses on the titular bounty of the blacksmith, Barthin. The opening act introduces the blacksmith, his friends, his personality and why he has a bounty on him.

>Prose is fine.

Thanks

>>really good
>I can't be bothered to verify this in the archives.

I am talking about the friends and family who have read it. This is the first time I have posted it in a critique thread.

>>fix everything
>I see, so you think it'll be an entirely acceptable first draft.

I didn't say that at all, but if I fix issues now before they emerge it means I have less to fix later.

Thank you for your feedback, not-anon. I hope this is an improvement.

I'm about to go to sleep, so I don't have time at the moment to go through all it this right now. Sometime later I will.

>I'm using the spelling of all published works in my country.
I'm American. This was a joke. If it didn't come across as such, that's my mistake.

>>What's the relationship between the two?
Seems I was unclear here was well. I meant why is Keldoni the demonym. Are they some minority group or otherwise not fully assimilated into their kingdom? Why isn't it Formeni or similar? Is this world is there no relation between the two?

Real world example exceptions :
Kurds don't live in Kurdistan.
The Dutch live in the Netherlands.

>>13588245
One last thought before I sleep.
Is this supposed to be like the opening of The Name of the Wind?

>>13588245
>I'm American. This was a joke. If it didn't come across as such, that's my mistake.
It's okay. Probably just me being an autist

>Seems I was unclear here was well. I meant why is Keldoni the demonym. Are they some minority group or otherwise not fully assimilated into their kingdom? Why isn't it Formeni or similar? Is this world is there no relation between the two?

It's more like Nordic is Sweden/Norway/Denmark as Keldoni is to Formen/Brightstone/Mayreth

>>13588263
Never read it, but from reading the plot synopsis, not really. Only similarity is a timeskip happening immediately after the first act. The rest of the novel takes POV of the bounty hunters pursuing the blacksmith.

>>13588198


whole draft so far

pastebin.com/bWVcQ7uS

Something written on a whim.
May or may not do more with it.
551 words.

https://pastebin.com/cPB7NuP8

>>13588568
>xir
one (1) yike

>>13585067
love martyn's version youtube.com/watch?v=E6xRlhx4AeI

Alright lads. I've reached my essential limit of my own bullshit. If this really is garbage after me trying this hard to reach a daily word goal, then I'm dropping it now before I hurt myself. Then you probably won't see me around on the board anymore.
I did some crits, I need some of my own. I have one question, two documents.
>Is this YA?
https://pastebin.com/NG0ki1zX
https://pastebin.com/FsybVCHy

If it really is YA then I'm taking a break. I can't write another garbage book. I don't think I'd be able to take it.
Thanks for the help. Good luck to you and all your projects.

>>13588616
>Quinn ran through the stone hallways that seemed to go on forever
Yep, YA.

>>13588625
not him but YA is a buzzword desu
i get what it refers so but i still hate it

>>13588625
Cool. Time to break out the records and booze since this is about my milage of replies in a crit thread.

I needz moar halp!


As the last of the browning clumps of blood unstick from this hand in front of me and swirl down the drain, I wonder how long I have been in this bathroom. I know for sure that these hands are not mine. I use them to turn off the faucet, but I know that I did not use them to turn it on. I was someone else a few seconds ago; it’s foggy—I can’t remember who—but I was someone else I’m sure of it.

I leave the bathroom and scan my surroundings—just a shitty motel room. There’s nothing really of note—well, there is a corpse on the floor. It lies supine, one leg twisted in a sort of frozen kicking motion, it’s head partly caved-in—surrounded by shards of what was once, apparently, a garishlycolored green and purple polka-dotted lamp. And there's blood, of course lots of it.

Nothing in the room surprises me; the only anomaly, so far as I can surmise, is the incongruity of the Armani jacket I find draped around my newfound corporeal abode against this dingy motel room. Perhaps this place was somehow uniquely suited to the needs of the killer or, maybe, it inspired it. None of the background details matter, though. I’m not sure how many times I’ve found myself in such a scenario as this one—but I know it is not the first. Like a repeated dream.

I give the room a more thorough search in the hopes that this killing had some sort of monetary element—liquid, ideally. Nothing, but there are car keys and a lighter in the pocket of my departed roommate and that is all I will need.

>>13588650
somehow you made purple prose come off trashy
gj

>>13588643
A couple more anon's thoughts would honestly help confirm though, if you guys could.

I wrote this poem in a spur of the moment thing about a bad winter a few years ago. I was writing a fantasy bit at the time which I never did anything with.

>>13588674
Ok anon. Give me a sec.

>>13588674
I'm honestly in great distress over the one thing I take seriously being trash after all this time. Does anyone know this feel?

>>13588678
Much appreciated. Sorry for shitting up the place. I'd say let me crit yours but I honestly don't think my crit is worth the time these days.

>>13588690
why not, do mine >>13588568

I have read several of the pieces here and every, every single one of them except only two suffer from the same exact:
there is no purpose behind any of them.
your motivations are artificial and external.
you are simply begging for attention from a hostile society.

>>13578059

kept my interest visually liked all the setting changes and character appearances

>> 13584457

this needs compression cant have phrases like 'despite the fact that'

>>13588709
i had no clue you could manage to say nothing while coming off like you genuinely believe yourself to be profoundly genial. Congratulations.

>>13588674
Ok anon. It does read like YA. It does not, however, read like *bad* YA. It is quite good YA, actually. The reasons it reads like YA
>the names
"Reed" and "Quinn" are very YA sounding names. Choosing different names would help the book sound less YA-y.
>the vocab
Vocabulary is simple but relatively well utilised. This means it is easy to access. Moreover, your sentence styles tend to be fairly easy as well - simple sentences, a few compound etc. THIS IS NOT A BAD THING. Steinbeck for instance often used simple vocab and simple sentences, however it was the content and concepts of the work and the way he manipulated the text which elevated it.
>content
The content seems to be some kind of dramatic adventurous story with powers, a slight Chosen One vibe. This is a typical YA setting.

All of these factors contribute overall to a YA vibe. Now you have a choice. You can continue to write it and shape it a little more to be YA (removing expletives/any concepts you think won't fit). As I said, it is not bad YA and YA is not an inherently terrible genre, despite what people on here might tell you. However, if you want to write a more adult novel, then ask yourself why this has been the result. What have you been reading? What is your inspiration? If you want to write a less YA-y novel, I would recommend taking a break and doing some reading. I'd recommend poetry - I can give you some recommendations if you like. I can also recommend literature. Anyway, I think this reply has gone on long enough! Hope this is helpful anon.

>>13588734
you are extremely sick in your mind

>say nothing
>you genuinely believe yourself to be profoundly genial

These are two incompatible perceptions.
You are debasing the meaning of the word 'nothing' to suit your emotions.
This is why your writing is absolutely vapid.

>>13588761
What is "A pretentious sperg" for $500.

Wanna come round here like a badboy? Do it
Bun all the talking, go on then, do it
Running through the party, bottle of BACARDÍ
Bro's in my ear saying "Stormz, don't do it"
Devil on my shoulder, I don't lack
Hit 'em with a crowbar, I don't scrap
Even when I'm sober, I'm so gassed
Say you ride but there's no car and no mash (what you talking 'bout?)
Clown, stand down
Never had a MAC-10 or a trey pound
You were never bad then, you ain't bad now
Never had the MAC then, little nigga, back down
Wait, I saw bare kicks, saw bare clothes
Said fuck that, I can't wear those
I don't like them, they're not my ting
They went silent, they're all weirdos

>>13588803
vapid

>>13588742
Thanks for the reply.
Basically my reading situation is that I've only had YA up until this point. I've downloaded King, I've downloaded Harrison, but I have yet to get into the groove of either.

Really, all that concerns me is that it isn't *bad*. I avoid YA because it has a horrid *bad* label. I wouldn't be *devastated* if I ended up with a YA novel, but I can't shake it's reputation from my head. I would write an adult novel out of my spite of the YA label.

That being said, my reading inventory has been some shit YA (HG, Divergent, Red Rising) and one divert (Farenheit 51) and I have the three following downloaded. (The Shining, Mistborne, Deathworld)

Even if my perception of YA got adjusted, I'd still want to aspire to make an adult novel simply to not have my achievement of being published demeaned. "They only were published because the YA market is too easy." ect. While I want to write for that audience, I just can't accept the idea of that long of a work getting demeaned as sub par.
I'll always take reccomends, preferably in the genre's I see myself writing in. (scifi fantasy)
I got myseld Shadow of the Torturer, but it seems like a meme book. If you had any to reccomend I'd be grateful.
(I'm working on your crit, I'm a bit of a slower reader, I'll be up soon.)

>>13588742
Reads super personally, I think the xi pronoun is creative, and it'll get someone's attention. Good descriptions on things I had questions about, it gave me enough insight to know what I was dealing with, and make it not a hinderence.
>Xe was so very cloacahurt to discover that humans had such limited morphology despite their literature describing so much more.
Keked

A Poem

Ching Chong Chinaman went to milk a cow
Ching Chong Chinaman didn't know how
Ching Chong Chinaman pulled the wrong tit
Ching Chong Chinaman covered in shit

>>13588914
based

>>13570357
You spelt eerie wrong. It’s eerie

>>13588914
Kino

>>13588899
That one wasn't mine, it was someone else's who replied to my post as though it was me I think. I wrote the winter poem a few posts above

>>13589548
Don't feel as though you have to crit it, I'm not too bothered about crit for crit.

https://pastebin.com/BqrvuPqN

I am 2 chapters into my first story, and I already feel like I should drop out of life.
Here, the first half of the first chapter.

>>13588090
>Entirely description and nothing else.
But how is the description?

>>13589669
Feels a bit aimless. A few turns of phrase are strange - is English your first language?

>>13589697
ESL.
I can tell that there's something off with the way I write, but I can't quite put my finger on it. How can I improve my grammar or diction or whatever it is that is fucking me up? I read a lot in English and I just try to emulate what I like.
>Aimless
How do I make it "mysterious"? I've been editing it over and over again, but it never feels alright.

>>13589721
Do you know what exactly you are writing towards? If you are writing with purpose, the aimlessness will drop away. The ESL wasn't obvious, it was just
>"Hey, Aki" with sadness mutters Hikari, as she stares at the withering arrangement of flowers sitting in front of the grave.

This particular sentence really. English would not front a piece of dialogue then have "with sadness" to describe its state, then have the verb, then the noun. Typically, the noun comes before the verb; English likes to know who's doing what and then how as a basic rule.

>>13589721
Languages are spoken, find a speaking partner in person or online. That's the first and most important piece of advice (except for immersion, that might ultimately be more important).

>>13577683
Textually.

He took a sip of his coffee, bitter was the first thing that came to his mind, the next thought was of that email he knew he would never get, the acceptance of his application. He looked down, atop the cream white table was a single red solo cup filled with black coffee. He watched the bubbles come up, some popped, some stayed. He thought back to the first time he tried coffee, it was bitter, so he poured in milk, which his father made fun of him for. Through the years though he stopped, and like his father, drank it black. So many things had happened over the years, he graduated High School, only knowing that everyone else went to college, so he must go too. He met the girl of his dreams there but she was gone now. To top it all off he couldn’t even work in the field he got his degree in. As he brought the cup to his mouth again he felt the ribbed edges and squished them, slightly deforming the cup before putting it back down again. He stared and after a few seconds it popped back into place. Bitter, bitter, bitter. Regret is a bitter taste. Maybe that is the reason he stopped putting milk in his coffee. That “acquired taste” his dad always talked about. As the years went on he tasted the bitterness of regret more and more until it was familiar, almost comforting. For the first time since sitting down he looked up towards the kitchen and the fridge. A dozen steps there and a dozen back, he could get some milk and make the taste much more bearable, maybe even pleasant. Why not? His gaze went back down to the cup. “Bitter isn’t that bad,” he said, a melancholic smile now covering his face.

>>13570357
I hate when people do
He was thinking X or something.

The narrator knows all and doesn’t need to ramble or muse or have I complete ideas like somebody in conversation who isn’t sure of themselves. Also I’m assuming this isn’t serious or did you really provide a detailed description of proper Korean masturbation techniques? Yikes

>>13590080
what is an unreliable narrator
what is literally any narrative perspective that is not omniscient

Heffner likes to bath in sounds
Partly: to fend off foreign noise
Partly: to ward off prying ears
(And alas! the rhyme appears)

He hired workers and had built
A cage of pipes with water filled
And, thus protected, around he walks

Reciting endless monologues -
Endless monologues: like Demosthenes

(The poem's moral rhymes with "Venus")

---
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRejZSlxBTQ

>>13588696
It's silly to pretend that you wrote something that you didn't.

>>13588899
The pronouns aren't anything new.
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/xe

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Appendix:List_of_protologisms/third_person_singular_gender_neutral_pronouns

>>13590461
holy shit I didn't notice I linked the wrong pastebin
fuck me for phoneposting

I meant to link this on that post pastebin.com/bWVcQ7uS

>>13583005
Blessed.

>>13590484
This page is no longer available. It has either expired, been removed by its creator, or removed by one of the Pastebin staff.

>>13588496
It wasn't as of this post either.

YOU DONE GOOFED TWICE!

>>13590593
fucking phoneposting

https://pastebin.com/yJXUfrdY

At the bottom-most step of the ladder in the hatchery I saw him. He was thrashing about madly in a desperate attempt to live. Knowing I didn’t have much time to waste I went down there and picked him up. I felt his scales, cold and oily. He squirmed in my hands, liquid limp, and I felt the waters sloshing through the cuff of my jeans. My shoes were soaked completely through. I went up to the pool by the wooden barrier and chucked him in. He plopped into the water and swam away.

I didn’t give myself kudos for the good deed; I just went back up the stairs and left. I suppose I had interfered with natural selection, but so had a long history of overfishing and the depletion of salmon habitats. As I went I saw the corpses of the salmon who weren’t so lucky. Luck is when the arrow hits the guy next to you Tristan said on a number of occasions. Quoting Plato or Socrates or somebody. I was distracted while I helped him and it felt like waking up after a long queasy unpleasant dream. No; like a spell, a curse had been lifted and a light filtered into me or filtered out through me. No, no, this is better: like after the movie goes to credits and you step out of the theater and remember you were watching a movie the whole time. That’s the one. As I walked along the squelchy path back from the ladder I went back into it, thinking about how I am a fool weighed down by his karma.

Then again Tristan said if karma existed Martin Luther King would be playing Bingo with his grandchildren right now, instead of being six feet under thanks to the FBI. And Dad said Just stop it you’ve become a conspiracy theorist next you’ll be telling us there were explosives planted in the Trade Center. Tristan said everyone knows the government killed Dr. King.

I turned back and looked at the bridge and the churning waterfall. Big perma-wet boulders shaped the path of the water below. Above and to the right I could see the rotting splintery bridge, the railing I had looked over and down with Mom since before it was weird for me to be spending every Saturday with her. When I was little we’d go once a week to the Maritime Heritage Park and I’d waddle beside her over the bridge and think about any old thing while she marveled at the salmon. Now we do the same thing but Sam gives us that look every time, before we leave and after we come back. That wide and blank bovine look of his that barely hides disgust. I can always see beneath it, see the sneer beneath the wide eyes and thin flat lips. “You guys going on a Mom-and-Jonah-walk?” he said so sweetly yesterday. In high school I would hit him when he looked at me that way. That was before I gave up on trying to fight anybody.

This is a first draft, so I'm highly receptive to any suggestions as to editing. I'd also just appreciate someone actually reading it at all. Finally, I am unsure were to take the story next, if anywhere. It currently stands at just over 1000 words, and I was aiming to just write a short story. However, this feels too short.

>>13591339
Honestly, it seems more like a description of a dream --or "come sail away" by styx--than anything else. Why so much nudity? It's good description, I am just personally not a fan of what you are writing about.

>>13592208
I wrote some more I'm between middle and end to have the MC have an encounter with the woman and make it more of a "story". Will probably not post it as to not flood the thread. The nudity is there because I enjoy it as a theme.

Despite your personal preference, do you have any advice? Despite obvious misspellings and grammar errors and such. I'd appreciate it, maybe even moreso since you don't like it.

>>13590608
I opened it in Word and looks like you posted page 20 or so of 37. Odd choice. I'm certainly not going to give a full rundown of it all. I'll look through it later, but I can't promise that I'll read it all.

>>13589679
In technical terms it works well for what it's going for, but I think only those looking for an aesthetic atmospheric piece would find any interest to read it for an extended duration if continues as such. I guess you're going for something "literary".

>>13588616
>>13588811
Oh, I didn't even realize this was related.
Seems I'm not paying enough attention.
Whew, I forgot I was this harsh about it.
>>/lit/thread/S13506923#13507631
I posted a lot of harsh critiques in general in that thread and others. Oh well.
Knowing your current limitations and why they are your limitations is important for growth.
https://mega.nz/#F!ywtXwYjC!LXU3e7knFpZK_dnHeC9ixA Also, the /sffg/ thread here.

>>13588650 This is a premise that I enjoy.
>>13588899 I wrote this and posted it after saying I was going to sleep, which I didn't. Sleep deprived writing can be amusing.
>>13589669 Why mention Mikasa and then do nothing with her? Reads like a script for a melodramatic anime or manga.
>>13589998 A self-indulgent diary of angst.
>>13591073 Who is Sam? Seems to be someone whom Jonah is often around, but it's unclear why their opinion matters.
>>13591339 I felt like I'm reading someone's take on THE WHORE OF BABYLON, Lady Godiva, and The Great Red Dragon. Very modern biblical.

>>13592226
I'd say add more of some kind of obstacle to his leaving, or show why he wants to leave. Good quality writing though, I don't have technical advice.

>>13592341
Yes, this I did. Thank you. I will not post another draft yet though, I will work on it and edit it for some time.

>>13592296
Yes, that was a clear inspiration. I added some more stuff where the MC decides to leap up on stage, and is maimed and loved at the same time. This way it is not just a pure ripoff but rather just inspired by, while also mixing in some other, and for me personally, related themes and ideas.

>>13592296
>Who is Sam? Seems to be someone whom Jonah is often around, but it's unclear why their opinion matters.

Yeah, that's fair. This is only the first page of an in-progress novel so I get that the story aspects wouldn't make sense out of context. I'm more looking for feedback on my prose, i.e. does it flow well etc.

The problem with you guys is most of you aren't likeable voices.

>>13592296
Thanks for the reply.
>Why mention Mikasa and then do nothing with her?
I didn't know how to start the story, so I thought that introducing and describing the setting was the best way to go. What else could I have done with it?
>Reads like a script for a melodramatic anime or manga.
I can't tell if that's a bad thing, but that's what I set out to do. Gotta start small and all.

>>13592389
please specify

>>13592362
ofc anon have a nice day and keep writing!

>>13592369
At first I thought that it was poultry hatchery and some predatory animal, a reptile was my first though, had become caught in some sort of trap and Jonah took pity on it. Then a bit later I realized it was a salmon hatchery.

The prose is fine to me. I'm ambivalent about non-quoted dialogue. It flows okay. Certainly better than a lot I've been responding to, in technical terms anyway.

I personally wouldn't read a novel about it, if it's just going to be his daily mundane life, but that's just me.

>>13592389
Sad and true.

>>13592407
Oh, wait. It seems I misunderstood. The name of the town is Mikasa? I thought it was a person. My mistake, I'm too used to it being a name.

It's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm not quite sure what it reminds me of.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikasa,_Hokkaido
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sorachi_Subprefecture

Seems I allowed my preconceived notions to interfere in various ways.

>>13592436
Whoops, switched devices and forgot it didn't have the trip autofilled.

>>13592436
Thanks for the response. I see what you're saying about the non-quoted dialogue, I haven't quite figured out how I want to show dialogue in the stream-of-consciousness/memory sections yet

Digging

Sweat turns dust
in the air
to muddy
skin

>>13592523
Posting

Words are typed
less each line
for what
point

Terrible Replies To Those Without Any

>>13580855 self-pity
>>13581068 still self-pity
>>13583677 y la ramera de la cámara web dijo: "No me pagas lo suficiente como para leer esta mierda".
>>13588675 Strange that you added modern amenities.
>>13590427 "bathe". Awful.

Can I embeed? Empty threads on my website?

>>13592763
Rephrase this with proper English.

!|= |_|_ (4/\/+ R34|) +|-|15 +|-|3/\/, +|-|3/\/ |_34\/3!

>>13593232
guacamole nigga penis

Ye olde dirt road

In times of yore
Of coal and ore
In times of war
That heroes bore
An young green toad
Upon a road
Sat silently dismissive.

Spake thus: Who goeth
Beyond the veil of tears?
The path that no toad knoweth.
So it appears, so it appears:
The Donkey of Hanging Ears.

His crest is a sideway smile.
He carries you for a while.
Letztendlich aber wirft er dich ab
Hinab in dein blumenumranktes Grab.

>>13588742
>>13588742
>and the way he manipulated the text which elevated it.
What did you mean by this. Could you give an example?

>You can continue to write it and shape it a little more to be YA (removing expletives/any concepts you think won't fit).
Are there actually any taboos left if you consider media contents today's YAs are surrounded by? I know having a book published by a publisher demands certain restrictions but if we don't consider this part are there any taboos you would avoid? And I am not talking about concepts since their will be stuff younglets won't resonate with. I mean strong language and explicit sex. However, what age group is YA? My guess is highschool til finishing undergrads but we don't have this category where I live.

>>13577658
Brainlet, its easy to tell that its about a heroin esque sex dungeon or something degenerate like that, though i do agree that its disgusting but some people are twisted, and like to write about disgust.

>>13570357
The first sentence piqued my interest, but the following sentence was just you describing something random I don't care about in excessive detail. At this point my ADHD kicked in and I stopped reading.

In a quiet little house, in a quiet little street, lived Pizza Pocket Pete. Pete was a pizza roll and as such he was more than content to share his love with anyone he wanted. It was his way of getting along as well.

Pizza Pocket Pete, like a regular pizza, was made from the same ingredients as the rest of the pizza chain: tomato, white pepper, onion, egg yolk, and a bit of meat. He was also given a few other treats he enjoyed—his favorite being pie. But most of what pizza Pete had in his pocket was, well, everything. Some of it, like his red pepper sauce. Some of it, like the chocolate sauce. And a few of the stuff, like the cheese slices!

With the pizza being a bit of a surprise, Pete thought to himself for himself, "What was in my pocket that I got? Why did the pizza never go to waste?!" Pete didn't expect to receive so many treats. His new best pal made the pizza that he wanted and, after his surprise, Pete decided that he really would never, ever forget it.

Pizza Pocket Pete also got treats for all of his friends who came along on the mission. His favorite treat for his birthday was his pepperoni pizza roll, a red pepper spread from Tom's Cheese.

That's when his friends said: he's a treat, that Pizza Pocket Pete!

>>13594436
I hope Pizza Pocket Pete has a nice day.

>tfw writing fun, lighthearted but trash story for another board
>told to take it to /lit/
>too serious a board and not the target audience
>doesn't get 'it'
I mean, I know my writing itself isn't the best, but when you're told to fuck off to a place that isn't the intended group and wouldn't care about that type of story anyways, is there any point posting wips when you know you're posting them in the area for people who don't care for that sort of thing?

I remember years ago when he asked her what was her favorite Beatles album. He went on to say The White Album, she agreed: 'probably the best'.
When I really got into The Beatles, really learned enough to form an opinion, I asked her: favorite Beatles album? She said she didn't know each album well enough, couldn't say.

Anyway, The Beatles' best album is Revolver.

>>13594726
WAAHHHHHHHH!!!!
WHY WON'T PEOPLE APPRECIATE ME WHERE I WANT THEM TO APPRECIATE ME!!?!??!
CRYING EMOJI

>>13595135
Well, yeah.
When I'm writing for a trash genre, all the C&C I seem to get here is "why are you writing in a trash genre" instead of actual C&C about if it's a good type of story in that genre by fans of that genre. It's constructive in letting me know I'm justified to cater for that community, but it isn't constructive in making it a better or worse story in that type of literature.

>>13595184
/lit/ does not want you to be creative
/lit/ wants you to parrot popular authors so that they can give you shit for parroting popular authors

Roast me daddy

>Sam Hireifell knew he was nodding off, but the fact that he now had a holster for his fishing rod attached to the boat minimized all concern down to the size of a pea. His recline would bend and ache most backs, but his had grown this way, used to the abuse and the lack of pillows he didn’t dare bring out to the ocean waves just to sully. His neck however, was a stubborn bitch that refused to conform. At every spare moment where his consciousness returned to him, it stung like a hornet as a reminder to stop being such a lazy sack during his day job. But her voice was so little, and his concern was so few. He had met his quota, and now floated out here like a traveller with nowhere to go, no sight left to see. Sleep was his entertainment, and even though he didn’t dream, he insisted he pass the time this way to the next day where he was needed again. The cycle continued this way and that way with little variation, just as much as the sea that bobbed his paintless boat around on the surface of the water.

>>13595307
Your writing reads like mine and so i like it

#20190806 Hiroshima conmemoró el 74° aniversario del bombardeo e instó a los jóvenes a "no menospreciar" la tragedia atómica - CLARIN
http://tridejur.uy/t123.php?id=2239150&alta=2019-08-06%2000:58:25

>>13595348
Can I borrow your self confidence bro?

>>13595375
Sure, but you have to promise to try writing cyberpunk at some point.

>>13595382
Got a good example of cyberpunk? Like a standard? If I was held at gunpoint right now and told to write it I'd probably fail due to lack of culture.

>>13595402
Imagine a mercenary adventure story where characters constantly get new gear, get their gear damaged, switch it for new gear, get better gear, and fight others with similarly custom and rule of cool setups

now apply that to body parts or even entire bodies

the body is a hardware. a dead guy is spare parts.

>>13595415
the body is a piece of hardware*
gotta stop typing while i eat

>>13595415
Oh, cool. Robots.

>>13595184
Turns out there are always people who will trash you. Many popular works are rejected a dozen times or more by publishers. If you give up that easily, you probably don't have what it takes.

If you are writing fanfics, then maybe take it to a relevant fanfic site.

>>13595449
Not him, but what fanfic sites are there besides .net and wattfag?

>>13595475
AO3

>tfw when 14 year olds are critiquing 14 year olds
Time to leave.

Blazing Dragonstar's sword clanged against Dark Demonlord's sword. They were evenly matched! Blaz had come too far to lose now. Even though he didn't want to, it was time to use his special move. "What's wrong, hero? Has the fire inside you go out?", said Dar. "You wish, villain!" replied Blaz. Blaz drew in his breath and yelled, "Secret Technique: Blazing Cherished Hope" and his sword glowed with angry blazing light. Dar gasped, "No!!!! How could you have that secret technique only know by the chosen one!!!" and then he was no more, vanquished by the blazing cherished hope. Blaz marched on to reach the final chamber where Cruel Devilgod resided. "The prophecy as told by the sage Truly Wiseman has come true!", Cruel cackled. "You shall die this day!" Blaz smiled, the hopes of the world written across his face. "That's true, and so shall you." Without further wait, he released a primal yell, "FORBIDDEN HEROIC: DRAGONSTAR SUPERNOVA!" and exploded, killing himself and all evildoers in the region.
Such was the way of all heroes.

Based on >>13594013
I'm going to double down on my belief that what you've written is not a good way to open the story.

That being said, your summary, to me, is even worse than your choice of an opening.

>>13588402

>>13595700
I would completely unironically read and enjoy 50k words of schlocky over the top bullshit like this.

>>13595307
daddy pls roast me good

>>13595617
please go
every time you come in here, label everyone as 14 year olds and what have you gained? Feel superior now? Why not post something that you have written or offer a constructive comment or two?

>>13595852
The only way this could even remotely feasible would to be to provide a daily short like that. If it went on for much longer, it would probably implode upon itself due to sheer ridiculousness. I really doubt it could maintain interest in a longer form. It only took me a minute or two to write it though,

>>13595878
Later. You'll just have to wait for it.

>>13596129
Take a traditional hero's journey story with a regular intensity curve
apply roughly three gallons of unrefined distilled hotblood
success

a good example of what i mean in non-literary media would be the puppet show Thunderbolt Fantasy. Just completely unapologetic, unpretentious style with no delusions of grandeur or sociopolitical commentary.
Just the author having fun writing a fun story.

>>13596143
ok thank you

>>13596129
Thanks for being a wonderful example of the ideal post

>>13596129
>>13595852
You should read/watch Shakugan no Shana or some other ultra-chuuni shonen stuff. It's really enjoyable in a kind of gratuitous pornographic sense. Make sure it takes itself seriously though. The more self-aware it gets the less willing to go all the way it will be.

>>13596392
honestly i am too busy writing my own story and playing vidya to consume weebshit
most stuff i read on the metro to/from work

>>13596661
Do whatever you want man but those crafty old nihonjins make a lot of this shit and some of it is good if you ever really want to get into it.

Nightglow In The City

The moon, as a second sun,
blooms down on the drunkards and the homeless
lighting up their time of
cigarettes and begging

The city is dirt
But the darker hours make it bearable

You dont notice so much of the trash, then.
You're busy
Watching the alleyways and passerbys for trouble

The bars are full on Saturdays
To the brim with fellas trying their luck
And poor girls listening to
the same pick up lines, over and over

The labors of love are scattered on the concrete sidewalks
In the pints and shots of panic
In the Great Liquid of Reduced Anxiety
In the hook-ups, in the one-nights, in the
Temporary hits of affection and soul-scintillation

The city eats at night
Eats the young college girls, and wifeless men,
And those in crisis, and those who are lonely,
They digest to a bioluminescence of neon greens and pinks
Of signs for 24-Hour Burgers and
XXX
GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS
XXX

The quiet places are few, but you can
perch somewhere to watch the city chow on persona
Chewed and spit out of nightclubs with
Large leathered bouncers

The city is, indeed, dirt,
But the darker hours make it entertaining.

My mind has become complacent. My body has become weak. It’s time to weaponise myself again, cultivate a higher consciousness that beats the dulled state of perception I am currently mired in. I wake up late every day and I go to bed late. I often work hours that further reinforce this habit, I’ll fix that. The drugs and masturbation have gotten into my head, latched on to me and incubated anxiety, depression and insecurity that makes my day-to-day life feel like a living torment. A nihilistic enamel has entrapped the individual within who always had the propensity to do something virtuous and great, to be a better person than the subhuman I have become.

>>13597249
the diary thread is >>13593379

Sickening. The type of people you sort through when looking up a name in a phonebook. Passing each life, 100s by the page, with the little significance they have. Yet, we see these people all around. They loiter at your local coffeeshops. Their dumb conversations seep into your mind. How I wish I didn’t have to endure this. Listen to these empty words, thoughts, narratives. The stories of the borings. The stories of the followers, happy, happy as anyone can be, to do their part. To play their role. In this grand game of life they’re happy to be just like the rest. Working on their trivial pursuits, clueless, absolutely clueless. Not a clue in sight for they live their lives with heads down but their faces bright. As if each step they take, blindly, they hope leads them somewhere. Yet, unaware of the landscape they find themselves in. They walk in circles, aimless, towards their death. Waiting for them, their casket 6 feet under, they gladly descent. Glad, their aimless wandering is finally over. Oh how I am happy for them. A life of such seems to be of extreme discomfort. Your head cocked forward, facing the ground and seeing your feet take step after step along the rest. Bumping into walls and other forward cocked heads. Ah, someone just like me! Oh this makes me so happy and jolly. What brings you to this world, this marvelous life we are so grateful for! Noting, sir, nothing brings me to this world. My head was born forwardly cocked, I don’t know where to go but I walk. I walk away from my fears, from my desires, I was dealt this hand and accept it. At the corner of his eye he spots his grave, seeing the shadow descent 6 feet exactly. He, with the most joyous face of all, lets the young man know he will be leaving and this time it will be his great last fall.

>>13597476
>>13597249
cringe

>>13597516
Have sex

>>13595307
Greentexting it was silly.
You have 11 commas in 8 sentences.
Every single sentence has at least one comma
Was this an intentional stylistic choice?

>His neck however, was a stubborn bitch that refused to conform.
Possible rewording: Yet his neck remained a stubborn bitch that refused to conform.
Or you could remove the comma.
That goes for various others.
The way you've written it seems choppy and disjointed to me. Don't respond with, "but the sea's waves are choppy, thus so is the prose." or some other nonsense.

Actually, here's a silly rewrite for a silly greentexted story.
>As he nodded off, he felt serene as the ocean.
>The fishing rod holster was attached to the boat so there would be no motion.
>His recline would bend and ache most backs, but his had grown this way.
>All too used to the abuse and lack of pillows whose ruin he who could not afford with his pay.
>Yet his neck remained a stubborn bitch that refused to conform.
>At every spare moment when awareness returned his neck was as though a hornet stung, the price of a position which did deform.
>Quota met, he now floated as a traveler with nowhere to go and no sight left unseen.
>Sleep was entertainment, though he didn’t dream, until tomorrow when he left the marine.
>The cycle continued with little variation which was the perfect vacation.
>He could not help but smile, as all was elation.

>>13594436 No reason for existence.
>>13597063 Says less than it thinks it does.
>>13597249 Reads like you're about to welcome people to a cult of alleged self-improvement.
>>13597476 Condescension of this sort is rather niche.
>>13595700 I wrote this. Amusement again. Maybe I should point other stuff I wrote, but probably not. I'm only really using the tripcode for this thread and only for these critique posts really. Certainly I've a lot of other posts in this thread without it.

>How he got there he knew not,
>Neither did the planet know;
>Pity the curse'd astronaut,
>For him was no one to console

>And he began to wander,
>Under foreign constellations,
>'Til he heard incessant banter,
>Causing steady aggravation

>For the chatter was inside,
>And the origin inhuman,
>Foreign thoughts churned within his mind,
>Bringing forth intense confusion

>Shades of shapes and grids of colours,
>Danced in vision to the brim,
>While suspen't in blissful terror,
>Baak Thulaap appeared before him

Baak Thulaap
>The single watchful eye flew low,
>It stared without emotion,
>Watched the sobbing man below,
>As if offering solution
>...

>>13588203
I can tell what authors you read.
Go over this line by line. Appending "keenly" at the end of a sentence is NOT acceptable.
A lot of weird constructions and peculiar style. Repetition of "order" does not sound as good as you think.
Be advised that there's a reason why people are worried about petty things like worldbuilding. In this case its painfully obvious you haven't worked on your linguistics. The names sound fake, even though they are the most generic fantasy names possible. I advice visiting a constructed languages community.
Nice pacing and decent prose. Not sure about the structure of how the time and perspective changes from narration of present actions to an omniscient narration of general things. Its a good storytelling technique, but its easy to mess up in large doses.

How do I even tell if my writing's any good? Maybe it's just my low self-esteem, but I always have this worry.

>>13598818
>A lot of weird constructions and peculiar style
Can you elaborate further?

I like to think my writing has improved a lot since I first wrote this opening, I never do the jumping back and forth of time/perspective again. I could post an excerpt of one of my later chapters.

>In this case its painfully obvious you haven't worked on your linguistics. The names sound fake, even though they are the most generic fantasy names possible. I advice visiting a constructed languages community.

Most the names are placeholder, I aim to work on most of that stuff once I have finished the grounds of the narrative itself. I will take your advice on researching linguistics and visiting a constructed languages forum. Are there any you would recommend?

>Nice pacing and decent prose

Thank you anon

>Not sure about the structure of how the time and perspective changes from narration of present actions to an omniscient narration of general things

Like I said I really only do this in the opening and it's more of the main character's thoughts drifting away, as he is isolated and thinking back to winters where he is kept company. I don't think this ever happens again.

>>13595768
What would you suggest as a better way for me to open the story? What do you not like about my summary of my story?

If you are going to critique people you need to explain why the things they are doing are negative/positive to actually be constructive, like the anon in the post I quoted above has done. Otherwise your feedback has little meaning and comes off as purposefully hurtful or condescending.

>>13598174
Thanks for the crit. Comma thing wasn't on purpose. Greentext was just to literally make the text green. People have done it here before to seperate their portion from the rest of the post.

>>13571761
Top bants

>>13599125
I have limited time, resources, and interests to explain about any one person's story in detail.

This bothers me, bit it's trivial.
Your example of Keldoni -> Nordic is silly.
A person wouldn't say, "He's a Scandi* from Sweden." or "He's a Keldoni from Formen" then because it's going from the less specific to the more specific when it should be going from the more specific to the less specific.
*Scandinavian

I don't know think it's an ideal start and apparently neither do you. Your summary starts with
>>Royal Blacksmith kills crown prince
Why not just start with that?
If you wan to keep your current opening, I suggest making it the 3rd part.
Part 1: Blacksmith kills prince
Part 2: Party gets bounty
Part 3: What the blacksmith is doing now.
Part 4: Back to the party heading towards him.

I don't know if that would actually work because it seems like the point of view of the hunting party and you may not be switching between them very much.

What you have is a slow start and explains nothing of why the blacksmith should be cared about, especially if he isn't the primary point of view. You could even do the King giving them the orders and then the an official account of the murder from the King's view and then sometime later on do an actual view of the murder from the blacksmith.

It really all depends on how much the reader is supposed to be taking which sides. Is this a black and white issue or it is grey?

Did the Baldur special forces actually kill the prince? Was it his "friend" specifically? Why would they betray the party when apparently the the king is good with it as they are apparently rewarded despite the King having to do stuff himself? Did the special forces go rouge? I guess not because apparently the King still kills the blacksmith apparently for some reason. Why doesn't the party believe the king would betray them after apparently sending a demon with them, or is that entirely fine with them, and having the special forces betray them? Or am I entirely misunderstanding the betrayal?

Why is it three years later? Shouldn't the king send people immediately?

Did the party not bring the blacksmith back very far before he escaped? Even though injured he apparently made it back to Belfrie and the King caught up to him.

>I like to think my writing has improved a lot since I first wrote this opening
If that's the case, then by the time you finish you'll probably need to do a second draft where you have to basically rewrite it all anyway to keep a consistent level of quality throughout or just because it would be better if it all was all better.

There's a lot more I could write out, but that's enough for now.

>>13599618

>>13570357
Long the night
Wheelbarrow through the morn
Light ray dazzle
Dust

Summer hat
Foraged by the
Creek
Cattle and dog

Meadow shallow
Water dry
Blue feathers by the
Bench

July

I have limited time, resources, and interest to explain any one person's story in detail.

This bothers me, but it's trivial.
Your example of Keldoni -> Nordic is silly.
A person wouldn't say, "He's a Scandi* from Sweden." or "He's a Keldoni from Formen" then because it's going from the less specific to the more specific when it should be going from the more specific to the less specific.
*Scandinavian

I don't think it's an ideal start and apparently neither do you. Your summary starts with:
>>Royal Blacksmith kills crown prince
Why not just start with that?
If you want to keep your current opening, I suggest making it the 3rd part.
Part 1: Blacksmith kills prince
Part 2: Party gets bounty
Part 3: What the blacksmith is doing now.
Part 4: Back to the party heading towards him.

I don't know if that would actually work because as you said the point of view seems to almost exclusively be that of the hunting party and you seem to not be switching between them very much, if at all again.

What you have now is a slow start and explains nothing of why the blacksmith should be cared about, especially if he isn't the primary point of view. You could even do the King giving them the orders and then an official account of the murder from the King's view and then sometime later on do an actual view of the murder from the blacksmith, or whatever the actual reality of the situation was.

It really all depends on how much the reader is supposed to be empathazing with which sides. Is this a black and white issue or it is grey?

Did the Baldur special forces actually kill the prince? Was it his "friend" specifically? Why would they betray the party when apparently the the king is good with it as they are apparently rewarded despite the King having to journey to Belfrie and excute the blacksmith himself? Did the special forces go rouge? I guess not because apparently the King still kills the blacksmith apparently for some reason. Why doesn't the party believe the king would betray them after apparently sending a demon with them, or is that entirely fine with them, and having the special forces betray them? Or am I entirely misunderstanding the betrayal?

Why is it three years later? Shouldn't the king send people immediately?

Did the party not bring the blacksmith back very far before he escaped? Even though injured he apparently made it back to Belfrie and the King caught up to him.

>I like to think my writing has improved a lot since I first wrote this opening
If that's the case, then by the time you finish you'll probably need to do a second draft where you have to basically rewrite it all anyway to keep a consistent level of quality throughout or just because it would be better if it all was all better.

There's a lot more I could write out, but that's enough for now.

>>13599657
>>13599125

>>13599618
>I don't know if that would actually work because it seems like the point of view of the hunting party and you may not be switching between them very much.

Correct. POV switches between seperate members of the hunting party from seperate times.

>What you have is a slow start and explains nothing of why the blacksmith should be cared about, especially if he isn't the primary point of view. You could even do the King giving them the orders and then the an official account of the murder from the King's view and then sometime later on do an actual view of the murder from the blacksmith.

This isn't a bad idea, although I wanted to characterise the blacksmith more as he becomes a more prominent character again once the party captures him, in the journey from his capture point to the pointy claim.

> Is this a black and white issue or it is grey?

Definitely grey
>Did the Baldur special forces actually kill the prince? Or am I entirely misunderstanding the betrayal?


I probably didn't explain well in my summary. The person that hired them was the blacksmith's best friend, under the guise of special forces. The demon that is sent with them finds the bounty as a lead of his own accord and follows it to find the blacksmith. The demon is a minion to a greater demon and doesn't know that the person who made the blood contract was the King.

>Why is it three years later? Shouldn't the king send people immediately?

The king had spies everywhere for three years, and still hadn't found the blacksmith. The only reason the party finds him is because the blacksmith had written to his best friend (the one who hires the party).

Most of this stuff has been explained up to the point I have written in the story.

I appreciate your time and effort into writing out this response anon.

>If that's the case, then by the time you finish you'll probably need to do a second draft where you have to basically rewrite it all anyway to keep a consistent level of quality throughout or just because it would be better if it all was all better.

That is good advice, as is most of what you've written here. Thanks anon. Hope you have a great day.

>>13599670
I didn't think you'd reply so quickly.
I've just woken up and need to proof it, so I deleted the original and reposted it.
Oh well.

>>13599678
That's fine. To answer the other parts

>Why not just start with that?
If you want to keep your current opening, I suggest making it the 3rd part.

I could definitely do that if I plan on jumping back chronologically or perspectively. The build up of this opening is to explain why the prince is killed, really. The sword and order he is working on is one for the Prince, who is unhappy with the craftsmanship and threatens to beat/kill the smith, who murders the prince in self defense. The sword being forged is somewhat a catalyst of the story, but is unimportant after the murder. I could do that in an explanation when the Blacksmith is captured, cutting down on it I suppose.

>It really all depends on how much the reader is supposed to be empathazing with which sides

I'm aiming for the reader to empathize with both sides, with the story having no real villains or heroes. Just people caught in a situation driven by desperation or desires.

>>13575702
>Good prose, and strong grasp of sentence structure.

If you read the second sentence (if one can even call it a sentence) and still posted that, you are hopeless.

>>13599678
For reference, here is the passage of the prince's murder. I'm still undecided as to how this should go down.

I originally wanted it to happen by the blade shattering when being tested on a dummy, with a build up of anxiety from the POV of the blacksmith, since he knew the "dimeritium" the prince forced him to forge into the sword was brittle and would shatter the second it was used.

I think the shock and quickness of the situation is also effective though, but I'm not sure. I honestly think I will rewrite most, if not all of this section on completion of the story.

>OP makes thread, possibly the same person, has been making them for themself and no one else.
>Gets a lot of responses
>Doesn't reply to a single one of them
>Various people just link to it in hopes they get more attention.
>Other people only a sliver of the attention of the OP, respond, and are far more appreciative.
Ha ha, oh wow.
Solution: OP shouldn't include anyone's work.

>>13599728
Reminds me of this:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tameshigiri

Shouldn't the guards have rushed in, if they weren't already there, after the prince shrieked? They apparently still don't appear despite what must be the awful sound of the hammer striking the ground through the prince.
I guess that comes right afterwards and he escape somehow.

"Butchered" isn't the right word. Butchering is about disassembly, usually with a bladed implement. Also has connotations of preparing the meat for consumption.

Maybe something more like splattered or similar that means a mess and usually by strong impact.

>>13595307
Anybody want to give this a crit before I make more prose like it?

The machines began to whirr, the gentle hum created by their stirring signals the overhead speaker to begin its narration. The building was still quite dry. With the doors still locked, the sun had been unable to curl its fingers in and fleck perspiration onto the pores of the residents of the building. When it became time to unlock the doors, the gargantuan flatscreen TV would flick on and the morning news would succeed it. By then the speaker would have worked itself into a nervous frenzy, offering the following: reassurance, comfort, sensible living conditions, a job that pays a reasonable wage, a world free of malice and dejected persons. No one really listened to the speaker much beyond noticing it as a component of the vocal cacophony that filled the building. “Turn the TV on.”, said one resident to another, the former resident’s eyes not meeting the latters’ but rather scanning the parking lot as she finished her thought, “it needs to vibrate”. The TV needed to vibrate.


This is one of the first things ive written of my own volition so don't bully too hard, but also do tell me what I'm doing wrong. Wrote this at work after reading Aurelia by Gerard De Nerval so hopefully my attempt at some surrealism isn't too heavy handed.

>>13600304
Upon reading this after posting it I don't think I really developed any purpose behind the radio "offering" those things and if I wanted to keep this short and not develop that I would have to find something else that has that nervous and timid feeling that I tried to create.

>>13600304
>The machines began to whirr
What machines? Why does their whirring stir the speakers?

>The building was still quite dry.
I don't see how this is relevant either literally or figuratively.

>fleck perspiration onto the pores of the residents
Are you saying that simply having the door open makes a huge difference on whether the residents will be sweating like crazy?

>When it became time to unlock the doors
Are the people unlocking them or is this automated, as in they are basically imprisoned?

>would succeed it
secede

>worked itself into a nervous frenzy, offering the following
I haven't read what you say inspired you, but this is sounding like 1984 by Orwell.

>“it needs to vibrate”. The TV needed to vibrate.
Weird and I don't understand within this context, but ok. Also, do they have no control over these speakers? I guess they are audio only. Must be difficult to try to listen to the TV at the same time.

I can see that you're getting at surrealism.

>>13595307
>>13600293

More variety in your sentence structures. All the base clauses are the start of the sentence with the modifiers following, try changing it up and create more suspensive sentences that draw in the reader.

>>13600405
Thanks for the reply, your criticisms are good. I wrote this at my job as a teller at a bank, so it's heavily influenced by days when I open early in the morning and all the banal things that are required of us. I can see why you think it's more Orwell, but I was going for more of that Eraserhead feeling like where all these strange, senseless things are happening around you and they make you nervous and afraid but you and all those around you try and pretend nothing is abnormal. Obviously needs some work because I agree that I'm not conveying that feeling quite right. The dryness and the bit with the perspiration were done because I find pores and sweat to be really nice surreal imagery but I need to find a better way to implement that. They don't have control over the speakers and yes it is quite the sensory overload having the TV and the radio on at the same time. Will work at it, thanks.

>>13570357
work on the first sentence more it's not so engaging

>>13600405
Oh also it actually is succeed and not secede. Secede is to withdraw from a political party/country and succeed in this context is to come after something.

Thinking of doing a short fiction that's within the structure of a journal. Any examples of this, does it have a name as a genre?

>>13572076
stop using this board if all you do is call things you agree with based before examining if its written well

This is a standalone paragraph i wrote a while back.
It was her utilization of the bow that struck him. As she transferred the declining stroke to an up bow, and it seemed as though she pulled the entire room with her. It wasn't the normal sawing method that was seen frequently among their peers, but a gliding stream of perfectly balanced force. It made him nauseous, how could someone cause the very air around their bow to ripple like a team of oarsmen before a seasoned coxswain.

The feelings of peace you can get from nesting a well-loved cat, whose relationship with you is mutual, and those of joy and tranquillity you partake with him as he snugs comfortably into the elevations and crevasses of a pair of crossed legs, are of the type that can lead someone to, upon further pondering, or almost immediately if the observer is intuitive enough, realize the simpler truths and frugalities of life in a wretched and unsparing world. Doesn't the creature want to be with its owner? Does it not find repose in him? Is it not a joy for both the owner and the pet to rest together in love? A cat can wander around the house all day; jump the fence and explore the outside; and all that time meandering is spent seeking what nap on its owner's breast would most abundantly provide.

>>13598889
It is the other who ends up judging our own work. See Kafka and Virgil.

sunsets are a meme but they play well with the summer rain. anyway here's what i got.

angel alien
part blue of the afternoon
hovering on high with that unfathomable ambivalence
if weary, now waxing, sulfur to manganese
impossible eyes ignoring the panoramic heap
pillars looking to crush this little city
departing milky salvo says good bye
briefly, wryly, royal-veined.

From a novel, inspired by the vague plot of Hypersphere. Need critique on the dialogue, I'm not used to writing it.

The room is dark except for the faint glow of a website. “I’m fucking tired of it,” the website complains.
“Tired of what?”
The website paces the room with stuttered orgasmic moaning that might be footsteps to a pre-Hypertime observer. “Jena se que.” Its image, faint, but hourglass-shaped, stutters with a static impulse as cherry-scented smoke wafts upwards through it.
“You didn’t — a pause, to hit his vape — “spell that right.”
“I verbalized it.” The poltergeist, body scrolling through countless pornographic video iterations, harumphs in the best way a non-corporeal entity can. “It’s supposed to be different.”
“Isn’t it?” Luger Foucault feigns interest. He thumbs his penis unenthusiastically.
“It was supposed to be a timeless space, not this cyber-spacial reality reflection where pathetic simulacrums like yourself have trouble differentiating which is which. Don’t you agree?”
Luger checks the time on his watch, not that it matters. He wipes some cum, or vape juice, off his leg; it’s hard to tell in the lighting.
“And you never listen to me anymore.”
“You’re not real.”
High-definition videos of men penetrating each other begin dominating the reel of the website’s holo-image. “And you always misgender me in this sick voyeuristic broadcasting you’re doing. I’m a she, not an it. Websites are people too.”

Is this better anons??

From a novel, inspired by the vague plot of Hypersphere.

The room is dark except for the faint glow of a website. “I’m fucking tired of it,” the website complains.
“Tired of what?”
The website paces the room with stuttered orgasmic moaning that might be footsteps to a pre-Hypertime observer. “Jena se que.” Its image, faint, but hourglass-shaped, stutters with a static impulse as cherry-scented smoke wafts upwards through it.
“You didn’t — a pause, to hit his vape — “spell that right.”
“I verbalized it.” The poltergeist, body scrolling through countless pornographic video iterations, harumphs in the best way a non-corporeal entity can. “It’s supposed to be different.”
“Isn’t it?” Luger Foucault feigns interest. He thumbs his penis unenthusiastically.
“It was supposed to be a timeless space, not this cyber-spacial reality reflection where pathetic simulacrums like yourself have trouble differentiating which is which. Don’t you agree?”
Luger checks the time on his watch, not that it matters. He wipes some cum, or vape juice, off his leg; it’s hard to tell in the lighting.
“And you never listen to me anymore.”
“You’re not real.”
High-definition videos of men penetrating each other begin dominating the reel of the website’s holo-image. “And you always misgender me in this sick voyeuristic broadcasting you’re doing. I’m a she, not an it. Websites are people too.”
Not to mention it, you always write me with dialogue. If I’m not a person, why do you do that? But suffice to say you don’t talk to me like a normal human being. You’re just racist. You paused mid-reply to hit your vape. Why do you even entertai — what the fuck? This isn’t good prose, or good dialogue.

There is something in us that does not agree when we are told that we should lift ourselves up by our own bootstraps. We have lost the knowledge of our individualistic prowess that can only be rediscovered in the aesthetic. We have taken a spiritual bridge and now have a false identity. We have love, creativity, passion and a will that can one day eat of the hidden manna and have our new names written on our white stones. We apparently will never achieve this Magnum Opus because of the lie that we do not have spiritual individuality. Once we establish that we have this spiritual individuality we can then begin to establish a harmonious relationship with it and the sensuous. Then the totality of the transformations of the themes we find in this realm like the aforementioned conspiracy but also the paranoia that we suffer from with as a result of it will then take refuge within us and transcend us into an infinite spirituality.

From a novel inspired by the vague plot of Hypersphere.


The room is dark except for the faint glow of a website. “I’m fucking tired of it,” the website complains.
“Tired of what?”
The website paces the room with stuttered orgasmic moaning that might be footsteps to a pre-Hypertime observer. “Jena se que.” Its image, faint, but hourglass-shaped, stutters with a static impulse as cherry-scented smoke wafts upwards through it.
“You didn’t — a pause, to hit his vape — “spell that right.”
“I verbalized it.” The poltergeist, body scrolling through countless pornographic video iterations, harumphs in the best way a non-corporeal entity can. “It’s supposed to be different.”
“Isn’t it?” Luger Foucault feigns interest. He thumbs his penis unenthusiastically.
“It was supposed to be a timeless space, not this cyber-spacial reality reflection where pathetic simulacrums like yourself have trouble differentiating which is which. Don’t you agree?”
Luger checks the time on his watch, not that it matters. He wipes some cum, or vape juice, off his leg; it’s hard to tell in the lighting.
“And you never listen to me anymore.”
“You’re not real.”
High-definition videos of men penetrating each other begin dominating the reel of the website’s holo-image. “And you always misgender me in this sick voyeuristic broadcasting you’re doing. I’m a she, not an it. Websites are people too.”
Also, you always write me as dialogue. If I’m not a person, why do you do that? But suffice to say you don’t talk to me like a normal human being. You’re just racist. You paused mid-sentence to hit your vape. Why do you even entertai — what the fuck? This isn’t good prose, or good dialogue. Fuck you, Luger. I’m done with this. Close out of me right now.

>>13603956
i would change "paused mid-sentence" to "paused mid-reply"

>>13587471
What software do you use?

>>13580694
It's like if Mrs. Dalloway was written by Paddy Chayefsky. I really enjoyed it.

Fck my dream journal entry of last night up (p1/3)

>>13604452
p2/3

>>13604454
p3/3

>>13604452
>Quidditch
dropped

>>13604050
nice

Ehhh?
Eeehhhhhh??
https://pastebin.com/ZgFE4B8Z
I critted a bunch of people earlier don't bitch at me

>>13605920
Dislike it. Second-rate, ephemeral, puffed-up. Readable sentences. Shades of gray, flacid, pointless. The first paragraph should have been one sentence.

>>13578325
Actually fucking good my friend.

I wrote a joke mass shooter manifesto, some of you might find funny:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUhSIi2kW4Q

>>13605959
I thought that level of description was pretty standard?

>>13606829
>I thought that level of description was pretty standard?
I only read good books, so I cannot possibly know. But: much talking, nothing comes across. I'm not interested in some guy I dont know stretching his neck. If the point of the sentence "And then he stretched his neck" is only to tell the reader that the guy stretched his neck: that's not enough. There is no subtext, no tenseness. Like a friend, who is an amateur painter, showing you his nature painting: a tree, a river, a mountain, is that a sheep? yes it is. and another one ... I'm already falling asleep--

>>13582426
best ITT

I'm writing an historical story. How do I introduce a somewhat obscure concept (the four humors) in a fluid way that isn't just me explaining it to the reader like they're an idiot?

>>13607580
a plague doctor explains it to a peasant like they're an idiot

Are a lot of these pastebins being posted elsewhere? Because there's a huge disparity between views of pastebins posted at the same time.

This is a poem I wrote.

Starting a story. Thoughts?
>>13607818
I like this one

>>13607991
It reminds me of when it's dark and the wind is cold but in a good way. There is a lot of description but not obnoxious and useless like it is a lot of the time so that is very good. It will be a great story!

>>13608055
Thank you kindly. It will be the first story I've written

This is the last post I'm making with this tripcode in these threads.
>>13602219 Seems silly to relate rowing to archery, unless the person stating it does rowing primarily rather than archery.
>>13603133 Trying and failing to be insightful and DEEP. #showerthoughts
>>13603421 Manganese. Really? Were you going for "yellow to pale pink"? The colors of the elements vary, especially the latter.
>>13603955 blogpost
>>13603956 Collapses upon itself due to its self-referential meme density
>>13604050 Defintely well on your way to creating a meme character.
>>13604452 I don't understand what should be critiqued. This is a jumbled fanfic outline.
>>13605920 I didn't expect this to become a post-civilization or post-human story or something similar. The opening is misleading without context. I don't understand the setting, considering the enviromental descriptions yet have battery deliveries. Are these automated robot deliveries? Doesn't seem to be doing much either. Reminded me of Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō (YKK), which I didn't like or read much of, and Paolo Bacigalupi's usage of batteries in a somewhat similar setting.
>>13607818 All this does is remind me how I don't like most "poetry."
>>13607991 Apparently I really dislike the world "lugubrious". All telling, no showing.
Are two you enjoying masturbating each other?

>>13608088
I like the word lugubrious, because it is fun to say

>>13605003
Thanks man. Do you have anything you want critiqued?

Just wrote this after not writing for years. I imagine its a little ameteurish and lame idk i cant really tell pls lmk if it is

>>13608088
Hey, I’m the Hypersphere guy. Is it the explicitly sexual humor that’s the issue, or the metatextual breakdown at the end? The novel very much focuses on the “recording” of everything in text so as to maintain one’s sense of self in a stream of endless realness. I should probably remove the vape stuff?

>>13608957
Did you try and do Lolita with the name Nicholas lol? Take Eliot's advice that mature writers steal and immature writers borrow. Jesus anon.

>>13603908
Bump

>>13608981
no my name is nicholas so i needed a character name. idk what u mean by "do a lolita" exactly

explain sir!

>>13608975
It reads like you're talking to yourself and anyone who is reading isn't the audience, as you yourself are the only actual audience.

>>13608987
Is it autobiographical then?

>>13609102
no the name is subject to change when i find a better one