/lit/ - Literature

>>2971029

“Excuse me?” Angus replied turning around.

“You checked the time, right? What time is it?” said a girl, probably in her early twenties like Angus and wrapped in a big purple scarf.

“Uh… it’s about seven.” replied Angus.

“And it opens at eight, right? Just another hour, thank god! It’s way too cold.” Said the girl. “My name is Georgia, what’s yours?” said Georgia, thrusting her mittened hand out to Angus.

Angus held out his right hand, and realized he was still holding the coffee. Georgia’s face brightened as Angus fumbled with his coffee until he finally shook her hand. “My name’s Angus.”

“So what do you think about all of this craziness, do you think it’ll really work?” said Georgia.

Angus looked towards the front of the line and couldn’t make out where it started—a thousand bodies all blurred into an endless swarm of people. Angus thought back to the news article that had come out a year earlier—it proved that time wasn’t linear; we just perceived it that way. And how so many people jumped, shouted, and buzzed at the idea.

A new device was going to be released that was a combination phone and organizer with the ability to synch to the brain waves of its user. The impacts were going to be monumental. You needed to only think of a face and the device could call that person, you could dictate a message, just by thought, and the device could write it down for you. As amazing as those innovation were, they weren’t what had millions of people lined up across the world to get one. It was what would happen in twenty years.

No, just no.
Never name a character Angus
Stop right now and come up with a new name

>>2971031

It would turn out that by some quirk in how the device was made it would have the capability to send information to other devices synched to a person’s particular brain waves at any point in time. Users could send a thought, a short and simple sentence, back to their devices—all of their devices—as long as they were wired to that specific person, at any point in time.

It was a breakthrough for humanity. As long as your future self had decided to save a message twenty years from now, anyone who went through the synching process for a new device would find one message waiting—a message from yourself in twenty years.

What would I say, Angus thought if I had the chance to send a message back in time. Angus would have been five years old. What information would a five year old need to know, what would a five year old even know about future portents involving a world so distant and alien?

“I don’t know.” Angus replied. “I hope it works, if just to make all this waiting worth it.”

Georgia sat down, and Angus followed suit. Taking one last sip of his coffee Angus sat the empty cup down beside him. The emerging sun has taken away some of the chill.

“What do you think yours will say?” asked Georgia fiddling with the tassels of her jacket.

>>2971033

“Just hope it’s not stock tips!” said a man walking by. He was wearing a pressed black suit and a blue tie. “I’ve spent the last day waiting in this stupid line, and I’m sick of it. My associates in New York have told me that they’re all getting the same information, and stocks have exploded. Invest in this or invest in that, now all of those stocks are nearly a thousand dollars a share, it’s insanity! Don’t even get me started on the lottery, several million winners today leaving a few bucks for each person.”

“Did anyone you know get anything besides financial tips?” asked Georgia.

The businessman stood straight and thought. “A friend said he was given a day and told to turn right instead of left. How is that supposed to make someone feel? Forever wondering what you’re trying to avoid? If that’s not enough to drive a man insane I don’t know what is. I’m out, this isn’t for me. The future isn’t supposed to be known, that’s why it’s the future!” He threw his hands in the air and stormed off in a rut, mumbling to himself about his wasted time.

Angus thought about it. News reports had explained that because of the device a new timeline would be created, one that might be different from the people who sent the messages. So it’s possible that the information people received might not be relevant—depending on what events changed. Maybe the guy could still turn left, since so many things would have changed by then, and what will be the results of his new decisions? Maybe that change will make things even worse.

“I guess I just hope mine isn’t lottery numbers.” said Angus.

>>2971037

“Yeah, I kind of want to know what kind of person I’ll be. I’d like to know that I’ll be a good person, and if I’ll ever make it with my art.” said Georgia. “I heard that the device could record your thoughts, even your dreams! Could you imagine? Waking up and watching your dreams? It would be fantastic!”

Angus looked ahead and could hear the rustling of people echo off the buildings across the street—the line was so long he could hear people standing before he could see them. He waited until the people in front of him stood, and as one great wave he stood up as they did, and it continued behind him and out of sight.

The first few hours of waiting were agonizing. From what he understood the store had to calibrate each device by putting a great big hood on each person’s head that was filled with diodes, lights, and receptors called an Electroencephalographer. Once the device was synched up to the user’s brain waves they could take it off and read their message.

Angus and Georgia watched as people passed by, their faces grim. “Why do they look so sad? What did their messages say?” said Georgia. A man and woman with locked arms overheard her, and the man stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at her, his eyes red from barely contained tears.

“My wife’s message said, leave him before he gets sick.” said the man somberly.

“What did yours say?” Asked Georgia.

“Mine didn’t say anything.” He looked down, his face cold, and they continued walking again.

>>2971039

Georgia retreated into her jacket, and looked at Angus. “I don’t think this is right.” said Georgia. She peeled back her hood, and took off her knitted beanie revealing long locks of curly brown hair which she shook violently. “Maybe they’re right, maybe the future shouldn’t be known.”

“But I have to know.” replied Angus. “You would miss this? You would miss knowing your own future?”

“If it makes me like them, then yes.” Said Georgia, surveying the crowd of dreary people as they lifelessly marched from the store as if in a funeral procession—their hopes and excitement expired.

“Hasn’t anyone gotten good news?” asked Angus loudly. His view locked on each person as they passed by. A woman looked up briefly and looked into Angus’s eyes. “These are our mistakes. What could anyone tell themselves twenty years ago that could fix them, what could you even tell yourself you’d even understand?”

People started to disperse and the line started to move much faster. As news spread that the information people had sent themselves was one possible version of future events, and not the certain future people became fearful they would worry about events that wouldn’t occur, or even worse, act on bad information.

>>2971042

Finally, after nearly a day of waiting, it was Angus’s turn and he stepped through the door. An employee dressed all in white directed him to a chair while they took his money, and placed the Electroencephalographer on his head. The world went dark and he succumbed to the claustrophobic feeling of the strange high tech hood. It gave him a strange sensation, like a million tiny pricks across his scalp.

In the distance he could hear Georgia. She was declining a device. Was she the smart one, he thought. Did he really need to know his future? A million questions filled his mind. Will there even be a message? Will I be alive in twenty years? Will it tell me about a future relationship, or maybe a wife? Will it warn me about cancer, do I have cancer now? Angus’s hands started to sweat and the darkness, and fear started to overwhelm him.

With little warning the hood was torn from Angus and his chair shot up, leaving him a bit disoriented. “Here you go sir, thanks for coming.” said one of the white clad employees.

Angus, still in shock, walked out of the store. He held the new device delicately in his hands, and on the screen there flashed a tiny green box.

:: 1 NEW MESSAGE ::

>>2971046

Angus looked at the device, and put it in his pocket along with the receipt without checking the message. Georgia was sitting on a curb across the street, her arms wrapped around her legs.

“Are you alright?” Angus asked after walking over.

“What did yours say?” asked Georgia.

“I didn’t look.” replied Angus. “Here, you look.” Angus retrieved the device from his pocket and held it out to her.

“No, I don’t want to.” said Georgia, waving it away. “It’s a message sent to you, from you; It’s not for anyone but you. Plus it probably won’t even make sense to me.”

“I kind of do hope it is lottery numbers.” said Angus, holding the device cautiously in his hands as if it were a loaded weapon. “Read it.” said Georgia. “You went through all that work! And because I didn’t get mine I need to find a resolution vicariously through you.”

Angus laughed, and timidly activated the screen on his device. Again the screen flashed that he had one message. He raised his finger up to the device slowly and he paused. The doubt proved futile and he clicked the message. He allowed each word its own moment to sink in deeply with the gravity it deserved as he read the message from the future.

>>2971051

You’ll do fine.

“What does it say?” asked Georgia.

“Nothing.” said Angus, finally exhaling, allowing himself a satisfactory smile. “Are you hungry? There’s a great place to get some breakfast just down the street—I was planning on going there after, and I’d like it if you came along.”

“Yeah,” replied Georgia. “I’d like that too.”

I like it.

Have anything else?

Good job OP

>>2971032

Is this a rule now?

That was pretty good, bro.

>>2971029
Favorite authors, OP?

>>2971351

That's a good question. Much like my music I sample a lot, but my mind always needs something fresh. Last thing I read was Murakami and before that something by Neil Gaiman.

It was good :)

I liked it.

Have you heard Music for the Quiet Hour by Shackleton OP? One track is built around Vengeance Tenfold reading a letter he sent to his granddaughter living in the year 2065. Your piece kind of reminds me of it, in concept more so than content.

>>2971373
>>2971279
>>2971183
>>2971167
>>2971097

How often is /lit/ this nice to original writing? Something is up.

>>2971398
From all the positive review, I now am forced to read it for myself (despite OP having violated the cardinal rule of never naming a character "Angus" on /lit/).

Thoughts in a moment.

sorry I couldn't read past the first post because of how many damn times you said 'Angus'. really, read over it again. you say that name like a million times.

I liked it, OP.

>>2971398
You gotta understand, the standards for fiction posted on /lit/ are remarkably low, just because it's very rare that someone who actually had talent would post their work on /lit/. By those expectations, OP's story comes out looking pretty good, despite him naming the main character Angus.

>>2971407

I hate using He, he, he, he so I refer to my characters by name a lot. I also like to use odd names, too many stories are John or Jack, and having an odd name I find it bland.

Angus also means "one choice." And it's the theme of the story, until the theme changes I guess.

>>2971412
I hate doing that too, which is why I sometimes just don't say anything. I'll leave the quotation by itself. the reader will understand who is speaking given the context, thus making it flow a little nicer in my opinion.

>>2971412

The "theme" being if you had to chose one thing to tell yourself in the past to change something what would it be?

The result is it doesn't matter, live for today. It also plays with the idea that to know your future is a burden.

>>2971403
I thought it was fucking awesome. Top notch sci-fi short story. Read like one of Isaac Asimov's better shorts.

But seriously, change that name. We can't stand Angus here on /lit/.

>>2971427

Change it to what?

>>2971439
Horatio
Ferdinand
Gallacia
Vladivostok
Ulaanbaatar

>>2971444
>Ulaanbaatar
My sides!

Alright I read the story. I think it shows a lot of potential but as it is it's not that great. The problem is, it's all exposition, and it's all really clumsy - it's, you know, "This happened, let me tell tell you about it." And all the ideas that it's trying to play with, it does in really obvious ways - I mean, it really hammers you over the head with things, there's no subtlety. And stuff like this - "'So what do you think about all of this craziness, do you think it’ll really work?” said Georgia." - there's a, you know, a non-specificity there that really drives me crazy, it's not really realistic dialogue and it really feels like you just threw that out there to introduce a topic you couldn't think of any way to introduce.

So the story suffers from that lack of subtlety, and that really clumsy exposition, and that lack of a smooth, naturalistic flow. But, like I said, I think it shows a lot of potential, you obviously have some kind of an ear for telling a story, you obviously know what you want to do. Just keep writing and it'll come.

You might also be interested in reading Robert Heinlein's "Life-line" - which was his first published short story and which deals with a similar technical innovation, although in a very different way. Just might be interesting as a different take on the material to spark some thought.

>>2971444

What about Muad'dib?

So this is now an original content thread?

People should start posting moar shit in hurr.

>Rip it to shreds, /lit/.

Ahead, someone had parked by the neighbouring stall. A fat, elderly woman. She was pumping the premium fuel, probably thinking it would benefit the automobile. Perhaps simply old and fragile, forgetting that specific model of Ford took standard unleaded. However, it was noted that for a hag, she had delightful legs; still taught, shapely and the flesh didn't seem to droop as much as he'd thought from the first, distant glance.

“How studious.” Cliff resonated to himself.

Almond eyes and ashen hair dotted with the decay of brunette clinging onto a lost youth. Her clothes were typical, though he could smell the scent of perfume manufactured for the younger of her gender; the hag was still active. A chuckle escaped his curious expression.

“Excuse me,” Cliff motioned his hand, stepping next to pump #10 and beginning his own foray into filling the car's reserve.

“Yes?” the frail voice said.

“You have... I like your legs.”

Blush.

“I bet you get a lot of compliments...”

>>2971530
man that just is not good at all. work on your abilit y to express thoughts in words.

> A chuckle escaped his curious expression.

that is just not a good sentence to write

>>2971530 (Continued.)

“Joyce!” the irritating gaggle of a hag.

Cliff grinned, “Rejoice for Joyce. What are you doing out so late?”

She flicked her hand, putting up the nozzle of the pump, “Heading home. I'm a secretary.”

“Ah, home late. A night owl, I see?”

A nod.

Cliff smirked, “May I touch you?”

She instantly frowned, “What?”

“Don't be shy, you knew I was hitting on you. See, I don't want to fuck you though,” he ran his free hand over a beckoning fly, “I'd like to cut off your legs and hang them in my lab.”

She didn't say anything else – Cliff merely witnessed a trail of dust from the car that vanished at frightening speeds. He waved farewell, handling the nozzle and pump back to its rightful place before returning to a trek home. It was a challenge to understand why people were so... attached to themselves. A warm hand patted an even warmer lap, keeping the excitement suppressed. He couldn't very well pay attention to stop lights and other traffic signals with an erection.

Soon, Cliff would be home to a hot dinner and his family but most importantly: the laboratory. His Eden.

>>2971533
Thanks. Be harsher if you'd like, it's only constructive.

Meh.

--------

Someone reached across the dim light to touch her shoulder, and was repelled by the shield she wore around her. She started when her shield repelled something, she looked around startled and saw, the fire, the fire that she and her friends where sitting around. She looked to see who it was that had tried to touch her and saw Warren. He looked at her with hurt clearly in his eyes, out weighing the pain form touching her shields. She swallowed hard and fought with herself to bring her shields down; when she finally got them to stay down she reached out to him. "I'm sorry Warren, I didn't think, I had put my barriers up." She told him as she cast a small healing spell on his slightly burnt hand.

"I'm alright now Carmen, "Warren told her as soon as he had his hand back. Warren a tall imposing looking man with black hair cut just past his ears. Although he looked imposing he was anything but, Warren was as sweet and kind a person you could ever know. He was tall and muscular from years of sword fighting, his brown eyes could go form heart warming to cold and calculating in les then a second. He wore simple brown-grey loose pants and shirt with a chest plate, arm guards and hip guards. "But are you okay? You looked like you were going to fall into the fire, but just before you did you jerked up suddenly as if you'd seen something that scarred you."

Lat night reading? Don't mind if I do.

uhm, how come he doesnt know the time? He was looking at his phone (which should have a clock).

>>2971746

"Angus glanced down at his phone to help pass the time."

He was just playing with it to help pass the time. Do you ever just play with your phone when you're bored or in an awkward place?

That was good.

Bump with a poll: do you find OP's story optimistic/uplifting or pessimistic/depressing, and why?

/lit/ writing thread?

/lit/ writing thread

You had me hooked when it became clear what they were waiting for. Otherwise I wouldn't have finished the story because the rest felt pretty filler-tier. The persons were a bit too bland, like extras in a movie. A lot of the interaction felt stilted. For example, why did he only start talking to the girl after they already stood in line for almost 12 hours? That would be awkward as fugg. I'd give the whole story a 6/10 with potential for 9/10

>>2972428
dont think in those pleb categories

Here's something I wrote. It's pretty short, and I wrote it while very tired.

In an enclosed white room an emaciated arm hung from the side of a silver gurney, and at the apex of the arm a hand resembling some ancient tropical spider groped slowly, rythmically, at air that hummed, and rippled, and quietly convulsed with distant electricity. The air whispered of countless atrocities done in the name of medicine. In another life and another time a man with powerful hands had played with a mastiff that he called his on a strip of green grass, and contemplated opportunities that he had neglected and people who had forgotten him but who still remained locked in an intransient prison of memory in his head. He pondered sadly people who had unwittingly made him terribly sad for a large portion of his short life. The dog was called Kazak. The man had named him after a similar dog in a book he had once read and enjoyed.

...

>>2972504
All this was relevant once, but had been rendered otherwise a handful of seconds ago, as neurons that once sparked with knowledge, memories and ideas stuttered, dimmed and dissapated, and the brightness in his eyes faded and ceased to be, and his eyes and his brain and his body died and become yet another cluster of dead objects in a universe already overburdened with them. The ghosts of things that had long ago ceased to resemble muscles spasmed in the throes of a painless, chemically induced death, and perhaps anyone observing might have cried out in ignorance and desperation "Look, you fools, he's still alive!" Like so many things in the man's life, this was an illusion.

Sup guys critique me or say good things to me

http://pastebin.com/VxeX27pT

>>2972742
I liked it, but I do think the idea was slightly wasted on bashing underage behavior. I don't know, I think you could have explored internet love more meaningfully using other devices.

Just my opinion though.

>>2972938
I definitely could write about that subject more. Thanks Anon, that gives me the confidence to expand instead of ending with a gimmick.

Moar original /lit/ shit?

>>2973735
Here's a poem I'm working on. I'd appreciate feedback of any kind.

Surface perfection
And that of physique
Needs not explanation
To enjoy its mystique

Pure emotion
A trick of the mind
Merely illusion
With nothing behind

Depth perception
And being unique
An empty ocean
Swum by the meek

Sure elation
You will soon find
In caress of lotion
On woman's behind

Beautiful connection
For all who seek
Without introspection
Through shallow technique

>>2973799
this... is the greatest poem i've ever read

>Sure elation / You will soon find / In caress of lotion / On woman's behind

words of genius, for all of us to take to heart

>>2973808
Yeah, that line was dumb.

So is there anything redeemable?

>>2973828
Guess not.

Welp.

>The last thing I wrote of any considerable depth. Fucking depression, it really messes with the creative process.

Enlightment

In this moment, the startling generalizations disappear.

In this moment, with starling clarity, life opens itself.

Drink Deep.

Never will you be as satisfied or quenched; never will it be as satisfying to curl up and lose consciousness.

The abysmal future, it's apocalyptic chatter drown into a white noise enveloping the stark silence. The moment has become holy.

In this moment, the vastness of nothing fully sinks in. The fog disappears amid the light.

>>2973735
I dont really write but ok
http://pastebin.com/Ry9ncw7h

>>2973903
Not bad, I really wanted the MC to die.