/crit/ - Writing Critique General

[Anonymous No.10079946]

Koishi Komeiji edition.

Post your shit here and other anons will give feedback.

[Anonymous No.10079988]

>>10079946
Would have given critique if OP had given his own piece. Will reply to all (serious) replies.

https://pastebin.com/9VQCFEvt

[Anonymous No.10080003]

Nice I never catch these early

[Anonymous No.10080008]

>>10079988
I see you started in media res. Nevertheless the grammar needs fixing i. Perimiter should be perimEter. Delete one of the extreme. And it's pistol whipping not whip. Reciever should be receiver. I could go on if you give me ten minutes.


https://pastebin.com/dpMYmQUg

[Anonymous No.10080031]

>>10079988
First thing I noticed was a misused hyphen and because I'm petty af I refuse to read further until corrected.

[Anonymous No.10080035]

>>10080008
I don't know what Media Res is.
This is a cut out segment from the middle of a chapter that I feels might show the most inconsistent portions of my work.

I'm taking your word for it on the grammar mistakes as it's late, but please do elaborate if you feel it helpful. I'll decide what I like as my own personal style and what to fix.

As for yours: You are better with imagery than I could imagine becoming. The descriptions are rather well done, and the explanations and tension so far is interesting. The character is relateable so far as an outsider and the entire piece has a pseudo-nihilist feel.

There are grammar/tense mistakes here too, mostly in line 5. But it's good nonetheless, seems like it's leading to something with themes of insanity.

[Anonymous No.10080049]

>>10080031
The first thing you noticed was 20 words in?

https://pastebin.com/TZD1jPhZ

Fixed. Sorry about terrible mechanics, I can't help but try and forge my own style.

[Anonymous No.10080056]

>>10079988
Some of your wording just comes off really odd. Like I understand what's being said I just feel like you could make it smoother.

[Anonymous No.10080083]

>>10080035
>I don't know what Media Res is.
>This is a cut-out segment from the middle of a chapter that I feel might show the most inconsistent portions of my work.
What you just said is what Media Res is.

>There are grammar/tense mistakes here too, mostly in line 5. But it's good nonetheless, seems like it's leading to something with themes of insanity.
Thank you. I try to minimize the mistakes thanks for telling me there are those I miss.


>I'm taking your word for it on the grammar mistakes as it's late, but please do elaborate if you feel it helpful. I'll decide what I like as my own personal style and what to fix.
Here
I couldn't fix all of them right away. but I did try to limit the mistakes.
https://pastebin.com/hPM7CBPi

[Anonymous No.10080104]

>>10080083
Wow, thanks a lot. That's really going above and beyond anon. It's much appreciated.

Do you have publisher experience?

>>10080056
I probably can, I think these threads are a good way to reassure myself the content isn't completely autistic.

[Anonymous No.10080132]

>>10080049
Wait what the fuck is happening in this story? Is it an uprising? Some civil conflict? Invasion??

[Anonymous No.10080144]

>>10079988
>I slid down the ramp absent of Lamar

Do you mean "without?" The word absent doesn't go along with the preposition "of."

[Anonymous No.10080153]

>>10080132
Yes.

Because I'm a psuedo-intellectual fuckshit this is probably how it starts, with Lamar dying soon after, and the narrative going back to the start of the conflict for sequential order thereafter.
I think my 'real' first chapter doesn't grab people enough, my main test here.

>>10080144
I think it works, I'm not sure though and would appreciate more info to follow. I chose 'absent' to give word variety.

You guys can link your own pieces if you want too.

[Anonymous No.10080199]

A STORY THAT I CAN HARDLY REMEMBER:

https://pastebin.com/raw/RtSmDTu5

[Anonymous No.10080242]

What Makes Men Into Monsters? (Chapters 1-3)

https://pastebin.com/raw/1pzsu3ZK

[Anonymous No.10080363]

Thought cannot be controlled. When I attempt to force an idea into existence the unconscious is weighed down with an entirely different, unrealized idea – begging for manifestation. Only when I allow my mind to be blank (and resist the screams of every noumena I’ve experienced, deathly frightened of being forgotten) does the unconscious thought bring itself forth. When I attempt to control the river of thought, even the gentlest of streams can become rapids. A mental state which is most unpleasant, and results in hours of anxiety. But this struggle has a flame that forges the sharpest blade. The idea that emerges from the chaos not only grants tranquility, but is stronger for the battle it had to fight to achieve manifestation.

Ill stick around in this thread and crit other anons

[Anonymous No.10080519]

>>10080363
Slightly clichéd at times, but I'd read it

[Toilet man No.10080709]

Infestation!
Blame the Arabs
on the planes!
Blame the Polish
on the trains!
Blame the Jews
on the cruise ships!
Cut the power,
Stop the nuisance!

with little cartoon hands and scissors drawn severing an electric cable – a pursuit that would surely get the acting party killed – a noble one? I see myself walking the docks. A metallic roar fills my headspace – friction? The sound of a large machine halting? Old friend, we are lucky to be awake this time of year for it is. Look to the skies! The perfect antithesis to our frosted forest of silent longing, wooden kings of yore eternally chasing sunlight, crowns to be surmised someplace beyond the clouds, like an impression manifests itself, soon to be filled with matter and peeled at the touch of curious generations: Metallic cigars plummet toward the waters, wings broken, winds laughing, howling as they alleviate themselves at their surfaces. A good shake for the dung inside – imagine the smell (ew!) those cracked tins will be shedding in a few hours. Time enough for the quick-witted among our people, with sharp knives approaching. Those still intact, not yet dissolved in the homogeneous brown mass of engine oil, shit and fluid flesh, we must separate. Sun baked, raised on figs and goat cheese, once honest lives on a no-pig-flesh diet, awash in sewage now but scrubbed, shaven, toweled, […] brushed with herbs and oils, blessed by our shaman, still might live up to their promise. Over a fire, that is. Imagine the feast: Strung up bard hanging from tree, sounds of oiled meat on hot iron drowning out festive clamour, consequent fog obscuring eager hands superseding mutual consent, all melting into one blurred silhouette. Becoming tribe, becoming people. Winds, equally frolicsome, play around, nudge and caress scent of roast and wine, sweat and sperm, back and forth and beyond the treeline. Against frozen shafts of the immortal it condensates as distilled pleasure, and all the creatures of the forest smile a knowing smile.

[Toilet man No.10080713]

(continued from >>10080709)

Drawn-out groans penetrate the fringes of my botanic retreat from aeons removed. The man in the neighbouring stall as well has reverted to some savage state, and judging from his howls, his winds too are frolicsome. My own delivery shows no sign of progress, immobile, impenetrable, not painful yet commanding attention – a totalitarian experience. Brown marble that sits in my underbelly like a second heart, beautiful until birthed into the world of shared experience, even then a presence to behold, soon to burst from my bowels like an egg tooth, in this moment you are my world. Leave no room for conscious reflection, thoughts and wishes, identity or ideology. All are banished, expelled from this body as age and dross. For a moment I am vessel and I am fulfilled, in no hurry to return to my seat, friends or beer. My lone companion mewls, admitting defeat at the hands of his colon, although unintelligibly. Few decimeters from my left boot, herald of things to come, a tear hits the ground. From beyond the castle walls a distant thought reverberates in my throne room: „Every man for himself“, and I redirect my attention at the door: Layers and layers of glossy hieroglyphics preserve varnish and presswood, as evidenced by yellowish-brown splatter all over. Adverts, jokes and provocations provide reading for generations. In places, sculptors have a taken a blade to the collage, entrenching runes and crude innuendos, partially exposing stickers from long-forlorn times in strange dialects and typefaces. Poets and painters, armed with pens, crayons, coal, brushes, greased fingers and whatever paraphernalia a toilet stall grants the inspired, have created an enormous palimpsest – a complex, ever-changing Gestalt with a rich history of addition and subtraction. No single creator, no clear intent, no end and no beginning. For all intents and purposes, a life unto itself.

[Toilet man No.10080787]

>>10079988
I like the details you get into, like the plywood window replacement. You're good at painting a picture of your world like that. Normally, I would critisize how often you use "I" but in this case it makes sense, since it's a story of war and survival is at stake. I do think that at times your wording is overly technical, other times unnecessarily complicated and as such in contrast with the feverish, hectic nature of the situation.

>>10080008
Hey, you incorporated my advice from last thread! Excellent. Your narration does seem much more personal now.I do find it a little wordy in places. Boil it down a bit, think of shorter ways of writing what you wrote without sacrificing detail and affection, and you'll be good. Think about the way you yourself think. Anyway, you're approaching realistic noir-ish inner monologue.

>>10080199
I'd buy it, as I am a sucker for mystical nature stories. Overall consistent style, well worded, lacking detail only where it is not needed. Are you going to turn this into a larger collection of short stories from the perspective of this nameless scholar? I'd like that.

>>10080242
Same as above. I'm a sucker for this kind of story. Overall consistent and well worded. I like the transformation the monster undergoes in the demon's presence, very believable.
You two are not perhaps the same author, are you?

>>10080363
Yes, this is true. Water and frire are good traditional metaphors for wimagination and will. Keep at it, I'd like to read where this goes.

[Toilet man No.10080793]

>>10079988
I like the details you get into, like the plywood window replacement. You're good at painting a picture of your world like that. Normally, I would critisize how often you use "I" but in this case it makes sense, since it's a story of war and survival is at stake. I do think that at times your wording is overly technical, other times unnecessarily complicated and as such in contrast with the feverish, hectic nature of the situation.

>>10080008
Hey, you incorporated my advice from last thread! Excellent. Your narration does seem much more personal now. I do find it a little wordy in places. Boil it down a bit, think of shorter ways of writing what you wrote without sacrificing detail and affection, and you'll be good. Think about the way you yourself think. Anyway, you're approaching realistic noir-ish inner monologue.

>>10080199
I'd buy it, as I am a sucker for mystical nature stories. Overall consistent style, well worded, lacking detail only where it is not needed. Are you going to turn this into a larger collection of short stories from the perspective of this nameless scholar? I'd like that.

>>10080242
Same as above. I'm a sucker for this kind of story. Overall consistent and well worded. I like the transformation the monster undergoes in the demon's presence, very believable.
You two are not perhaps the same author, are you?

>>10080363
Yes, this is true. Water and fire are good traditional metaphors for imagination and will. Keep at it, I'd like to read where this goes.

[Anonymous No.10081255]

>>10079946
Is shit like this inaccessibly esoteric and rambling? It's just the first draft so I'm not worried about the prose just whether these kind of paragraphs are a pointless waste of time, I really like writing them. Molly is the protagonist.

>
>
>

Someone had commented on one of her posts, a video of the song ‘Those Days are Gone and my Heart is Breaking’. It was someone she followed. “You like Welcome to Night Vale?!?!?”

There is an episode of ‘Gayle’ where the titular Gayle has to go to Trader Joes to buy Terry some stuff because Terry caught Gayle washing her hair with a canine shampoo. When Molly was feeling homesick sometimes she’d google quotes from The Mighty Boosh to see where other people had used them. It turned out the song ‘Quit Lezzin’ Around’ actually had a retail version and that you could listen to it on youtube. Back in the days of MySpace Molly had become a big fan of Sage Francis and then Cecil Otter and then Dessa. Molly clicked on Ciaomunch’s channel, there was a whole Beef Hutchins album. And there was a song by Doom Tree. Then youtube played the Barton Carroll one.

[Anonymous No.10081502]

>>10081255
>>10080713
>>10080709
>>10080363
>>10080242
>>10080199
Critique others first.

[Anonymous No.10081536]

>>10081502
I did critique the others.

[Anonymous No.10081559]

>>10080144
Not him and didn't read the context but absent of makes sense.

[Toilet Man No.10081938]

>>10081255
We can't really tell if this kind of paragraph is distracting if you present it out of context.

[Anonymous No.10082271]

>>10081559
Sure I can understand it but it's awkward as fuck. It's like saying "We to the store went, present with Joshua." Like just write clearly, you know?

>>10080709
Too confusing for me. I'd say you need to try to meet your reader halfway, at least at the start. Then you can lead them by the hand to wherever you're going.

>>10080363
Too abstract for me. These ideas are so complex and separate from life that you can't afford to use such complicated diction and sentence structure. What are you trying to say, anyway?

[Anonymous No.10082276]

>>10081502
I did, in my case there was only one story posted before mine, and there was a big honkin' error in the first sentence.

>>10081255
It's intelligible, but it's not that interesting.

[Anonymous No.10082445]

>>10080363

[Anonymous No.10082470]

>>10081255
The innanet rotted your young mind

[Anonymous No.10082754]

How do I write "difficult" prose?

[Anonymous No.10082811]

“Is that really all you have to report to me? You came here absolutely starstruck with the fear of god in your heart to tell me something self-evident?” she said chiding him for the incompetence she saw. Stifling a laugh and leaning over her desk with her hand on her cheek, like a teacher amused with a child, she looked at him bemused. If there was anything busier for the major to do, it would be more of an angry expression, but today, as it was for the past few weeks, her contempt was compounded as if dealing with a toy dog which was mildly snappier than usual.
“I came because you are the officer in charge of locating a major terrorist and this information has greater implications than we’ve seen before about both logistical operations in our region and his location.”
“Oh, is this going to come in the form of a nursery rhyme? The way even your most forceful response is a <whisper seems to put even a hummingbird to sleep is slightly amusing>.”
“This is serious.” he said, leaving the air hanging in suspense. Ms. Konigs’s eyes lit up waiting for this courier lieutenant’s, a chilling sight to behold for her skin and features were near white, almost opaque and were only matched by the arrogance of these features. Her eyes lit up even more when this whisperer was strong-headed enough to tell her what was relevant to her case to track her suspect.

[Anonymous No.10082981]

rate my DFW fan fic

[Anonymous No.10083059]

Tried writing something that could fit into The Road:

Some time ago a freighttrain that ran through the mountains had come derailed and all its wagons lay overturned in the snow. Dozens of carts sprawled wildly across the terrain still connected by their couplings. If there were still birds to fly across this earth they would look upon the mountain range and see its tallest peak with a necklace of steel about it. In the wagons were goods of all kinds but mostly coal. Each wagon had drawn a small snowbank against its west side and the boy had climbed one while the man made camp and now sat with his legs dangling and his head craned back, staring up at the starry sky. They’re brighter tonight, he had said, eyes wide and gleaming.
After an hour the man said it was time to sleep and to come on down now.
A while longer, Papa.
No. You’ll catch cold.
They’re brighter tonight, aren’t they?
They’ll be there tomorrow.
Not like this.
Never know. Come on down now. Sleep.
A while longer.
No. Come on.
Okay.

[Anonymous No.10083067]

>>10081502
No.

[Anonymous No.10083102]

I just published this conceptual poetry but can't get decent critique since most people aren't familiar with Flarf

https://books.google.com/books?id=Li0yDwAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=forum+x&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwin0KTHoMTWAhVO7WMKHX3XAMEQ6AEIKDAA#v=onepage&q=forum%20x&f=false

[Anonymous No.10083143]

>>10082271
>3 reviews
>every single one moaning about the difficulty of the piece

[Anonymous No.10083217]

>>10082754
Don't, nobody enjoys reading it

[Anonymous No.10083220]

>>10083059
Pretty good imitation. Idk if kids REALLY say papa though lol

[Anonymous No.10083229]

>>10083102
Excerpt that's free online is pretty enjoyable. Would be interested to see what you wrote for /v/, /lit/, and /tv/

[Anonymous No.10083247]

>>10083217
I do

[Anonymous No.10083292]

>>10083229
You can buy it at http://xenopla.net/, but if you want to message me your information through there, I'll send you the Google Doc so you can read it free

[Anonymous No.10083651]

>>10083247
We must mean two different things by the term. What kind of writers, in your view, write "difficult" prose?

[Anonymous No.10084025]

>>10082811
The prose flows very nicely. The verbs are very descriptive, and other than polishing it up some, there's not much I can offer without knowing the narrative.

>>10083059
I've never read The Road <spoiler> only the film</spoiler>, but it certainly seems like it could fit.
Sorry I can't offer more without a bit longer piece.

Mine:
https://pastebin.com/pgH3cReJ

[Anonymous No.10084448]

>>10083143
Not an argument

[Anonymous No.10084451]

>>10084448
Shut up, pleb.

[Anonymous No.10084591]

>>10084025
>the prose flows very nicely
Did we even read the same anon's post?

[Anonymous No.10085100]

The beginning of my short story; it's the first draft and it was discovery written.

[Anonymous No.10085134]

scottish school kids at lunch 1/2

We all sat in the dining hall, Freddo wrappers littering the table in front of us as Kenan chomped through his fifth one. David had bought M&Ms and was arranging them by color into warring factions. I sat slouched in my chair with another a few feet in front of me to rest my legs on as Kyle and Wee Patty chatted back and forth.
“Look at them…” Kyle said pointing to the learning support kids who sat up near the canteen serving area, so there wasn’t too much distance for them to walk with their hot plates. I waited for Kyle to continue, praying that the conversation wasn’t going to go down the gutter.
“They’ve been here since the beginning eh? No’ worried about being up town or the troubles of the land and gentry. Solid lads.”
Wee Patty chuckled but he wasn’t really paying attention, he pulled apart the first of his three cafeteria cheeseburgers like a surgeon setting about his first patient of the day, excited yet nervous as a life hung in the balance: his own. Would he survive the cafeteria cooking for another day? Only time would tell. As he squirted the ketchup all over the burger and reassembled it Kyle continued talking.
“They’re the guardians of the cafe, the three wise men of the lunch hall. Coming to eat under the vision of baby Jesus in the stained glass.” Kyle motioned towards the window on the left hand side of the hall stained with religious iconography, I burst out laughing almost drowning on the Coke I was sipping at.
“What are you talking about Kyle? The three wise men? It’s just wee Stuart, Patch and their mate eating lunch.”
“That’s Balthazar - Paul. He went to my primary school.” Kyle replied quickly. “He used to wear this head protector that looked like a crown. He likes a high five does auld Balthazar.”
I stared at Kyle in disbelief. Looking around the table I wanted to see if anyone else was hearing this or if I was in some abstract fantasy inside Kyle’s head.
David was down to the Red and Green M&Ms though he had been distracted by Kenan who had got up and started to ‘Boax’ him. Wee Patty was now three cheeseburgers deep. I was alone, awash in the sea of Kyle’s insanity.
“Y’know Mike, it’s no’ a bad wee life they’ve got. Peace and quiet to study, company without the social awkwardness of making friends. Other than us a whole lunch hall to themselves. Bar the disability, it must be an alright existence. This is their holy land, their Babylon!”
Before I could reply, Kyle was up off his seat and marching towards the learning support table. I looked on curiously, wondering what had possessed him. After a few seconds the blonde haired boy, the one Kyle had nicknamed Balthazar was on his feet giving Kyle a high five. Christ, what had he said?

[Anonymous No.10085137]

>>10085134
school kids at lunch 2/2


I gathered the boys around and explained what was going on, no one had a clue why Kyle was so interested in the learning support table. It was odd. Almost as quickly as he was gone he was back. David grabbed the Green M&Ms and threw them into his mouth.
“Kyle, what was that about?” David chuckled softly, a smirk creeping across his face. “Making some new pals? We not good enough eh?” Babid raised his eyebrows mockingly. Using his face to express like a vaudevillian actor - nothing more than his movements at his disposal.
“Aye, feel more at home down there eh?” Wee Patty jibed in before making his usual alien noises and clicking his tongue.
“Fuck off Patty! It’s paying respects! This isn’t our place. It’s theirs. The Magi of the munch, the cafe kings.” Kyle laughed, finding himself hysterically funny.
“I know, plus you’re the one making the Abe noises Richard. Maybe you should go introduce yourself.” David quipped.
We all roared in laughter, David wasn’t frequent with his retorts, but this one was on point. Wee Patty’s eyebrows lowered. For fuck’s sake - was David really about to get the evil eyebrows for that? It was barely anything, and yet Wee Patty looked just about ready to ex-communicate him. Kenan rolled up his jacket and checked his watch.
“Nae time for shenanigans boys, time to get back to school.”
Kenan hopped up from the table and left his pile of Freddo wrappers lying in his wake. Wee Patty threw his bag over his shoulder, his lunch rubbish on top of Kenan’s, and made for the door. He and Kenan were out of sight before I had the time to tell them to clean up their mess. David looked at the Red M&Ms left on the table, the survivors of his mental war, and then at the pile of rubbish, before his eyes made their way over to the learning support table.
“Suppose I better clear this up. No-one else is going to do it.” he muttered, his face dropping into a sulk. He always got like this as lunch finished. It was the end of the heady rush of freedom and now time to head back to the classroom. He gathered up the rubbish and took it to the bin, Kyle and I followed behind.
“Bye boys!” Balthazar yelled as we made for the door. I turned around and smiled, and then it was back out into the grey.

[Anonymous No.10085174]

BLACK TULIP

The world is grey and cold and wind blows across the Earth. The sky is bleeding; rain pours from the heavens. It’s bounces off the concrete path in a quick succession of thuds. People are wounded, they walk slower the more they are hit until they fall into the bus or their ride home from university. The concrete is a ghastly contrast to the greenery of the university. Trees are dotted around but the main source of nature is a patch of grass that hugs a lake. Rain disappears into it. The sound of the rain would be loud, deafening if it weren’t for the people running. The sound of the clip clop of the heels, the squelch of the feet against the forming mud, the expansion of the Earth against the cool grey concrete … she walks through the rain. There’s a skip in her step and she is smiling, laughing at the drops that hit her skin and they roll gently off her, onto the ground to be burned away in the coming dawn.

Matthew watches her as she passes by a tree whose branches dip into the water. Her mouth is wide, open, and she is gazing into the sky and he watches her and his heart fills. Her eyes fall from the sky to him and she looks at him and she closes her mouth. She stops in her track and looks at the leaves that sway in the wind. Her skin burns. Her eyes meet his again and she shakes her head and leaves him. Matthew looks up into the sky and his eyes burn with anguish and regret.

[Anonymous No.10085177]

>>10085100
>>10085134
>>10085137
>>10085174
Remember to critique the others.

[Anonymous No.10085205]

>>10085137
I really enjoyed the religious elements to this. It made wherever these kids are (I'm assuming it's a religious area in general) more believable. I thought saying "Christ, what had he said?" to be clever so far as to show more religious elements and to emphasize the situation.

The dialogue between them is great. It reads like an actual conversation is taking place. I can't really comment on your prose too much but it was never tedious to read.

I would like to know if this is a snippet of something more or just a one off thing.

[Anonymous No.10085681]

>>10085177
Duly noted, though I can't into critique other than 'it's good'

>>10085205
It's a snippet of something more, but a lot of it isn't rounded out so well

[Anonymous No.10086366]

Bump

[Anonymous No.10086580]

Egg Customers Are Being Paid Back Thousands. Ever Banked With Lloyds? You Could Be Due A Refund. Drunk Hot Girls In Shameless Position. Hottest Mirror Selfies Ever. 23 Dirty Photos That Will Make You Blush. Unexpectedly Capture Female Sports Moments. Embarassing Images Caught Inside Of A Walmart Glasgow Camera. Private Photos of Her Wedding night Shared By Hubby. 20 Hot Moms You Can't Unsee. Remember Her? Try Not To Gasp When You See How She Looks Now. Cameraman Captured More Than Expected. Celeb No-Bra Day Caught On Camera. Perfectly Taken Dirty Pictures That Will Make Your Day. Lloyds Customers Are Being Refunded Thousands.

[Anonymous No.10086646]

>>10086580
You could turn this into a great novel, how I will leave for you to decide.

[Anonymous No.10086651]

>>10079946
>Post your shit here and other anons will give feedback.
WILL THEY?

[Anonymous No.10087032]

>>10086651
If you give feedback first maybe yeah

[Anonymous No.10087049]

>>10087032
Perhaps I did, wouldn't that be ironic?

[Anonymous No.10087124]

>>10087049
I did here too >>10084025, link me to yours and I'll review it.

[Anonymous No.10088234]

>>10082981
Here.
>>10087124

[Anonymous No.10088997]

Bump

[Anonymous No.10089004]

>>10088997
Why not bump with critique, friend?

[Anonymous No.10089153]

>>10079988
Wrong use of a hypen right away, between "below" and "it".

Definition for Hyphen:
the sign -, used to join words to indicate that they have a combined meaning or that they are linked in the grammar of a sentence (as in a pick-me-up, rock-forming minerals ), to indicate the division of a word at the end of a line, or to indicate a missing element (as in short- and long-term ).

Also some of the supposed "fast-paced action" in the beginning feels like describing something instead of living it. I dunno, perhaps it's the amount of words; needs shortening, thightening.

For example, instead of:
>My breathing forced to slow as I felt the warm embrace of unconsciousness approaching, I fought to get to my knees and elbows.

Try:
>My breathing slowed, the unconscious approaching. Knees and elbows like jelly to get up.
Also here's mine.
WARNING: Fantasy, trite possible.
Page 1 of 4.

[Anonymous No.10089154]

A while back someone in another thread mentioned they actually made some money writing short (5k to 25k words) romance stories and self publishing them on the kindle store on Amazon. I have decided to try my hand at this. I never read a romance book or any of those 50-80 page erotica stories on the kindle store. I took a look at the samples and they were all written in first person and they all had virtually no descriptions of any of the characters.

Any advice on writing this shit and having it be successful?

[Anonymous No.10089268]

>>10089153
Continuation for this.

>>10085100
Comma already not necessary, the very first sentence can't really stand on it's own I don't think. Pace slowed down already. Not a good start, senpai.

Fortunately for you The rest down is pretty good, noir stuff so far, at least, that's what I got from the vibe. Good job. Then I hit the two "times" on the start of the third paragraph after the line of conversation.
Here's some other words you can use for in place of time: term, spell, span, epoch, era.
It's distracting stuff, diversify your words on a range that close to each other.

Also the comma between "destination" and "I had" was again not necessary, see first complaint above, similar problem.
Also she has a backpack AND a purse? What? Busy woman, I suppose.
Last sentence also had the comma problem; between "foot" and "I shook."

Overall, bretty good, anon. Rough start, good execution I think. Noir setting: established.

Also cute grrl, would place in kitchen/10

[Anonymous No.10089315]

standing there against the muddy green wall spattered with drops of old dried cum and mouldy strokes of coffee he realized that he had a major problem. on the bed next him lay the woman slowly leaning her body back and forward making the spring in the bed squeak with a sound of premonition the grinding sound making him uneasy even more distracted by it then worrying about how he would break the news to the whore bright red lipstick covering her worn lips the the creaks was a timer getting louder and louder the tick of the clock ticking down to his confession of his deepest desire now it was time to speak up, he spoke. i need to get off, he said. that’s why you are here, i have a wife. lovely wife. but she can’t satisfy my need, i need to explode. and there’s only one thing that does that for me. he opened his old sport bag and took out his secret that which he shared with no one suppressing to even himself going through the day not thinking about it too hard because he saw himself as a respectable person and this object did not fit that view. in his two hands he held with strength and conviction a toilet bowl with a precise crafted hole and he said with the voice of a man leaving his farm and family and life and going to war, i need you to put this on your head. I need you to be my human waste disposal. i am sorry but this is the only way. i want my legs to shake with the deliverance of an iron load weighing my daily routine down in the ether.

back in time, the epic tale of a man and the formation of the fetish that would rule the rest of his life the hand guiding the continuation of his existence always searching for a harder way to discharge. he was young he lived in a big house he had a good family they were always at home he didn’t have a lock on his door he had a exquisite bathroom he went in there late at night touching himself furiously against the wall against the floor in the sink he would rub himself everywhere the smell sticking in the walls he lived in fear of someone catching his essence and throwing him out of home for being a disgusting subhuman the sanitation squad coming there to kill all residue of his degeneracy so he started shooting his pleasure down into the toilet it was a fancy toilet could be victorian era he would shoot it down and stare at it and then flush it down while keeping his sight one point on the miniature smothering sea everyday this process would repeat though now he didn’t get any pleasure from the women that had grasped his imaginative landscape of wet meat with a healthy orange tinge beforehand no, now in fact his ecstasy came from the toilet itself, the shine of it and fragrance of the soiled material within making his swampy flesh rod expand in the search for a shakedown.

[Anonymous No.10089319]

>>10089315
he had superimposed his natural urges on the toilet. in his head pleasure and toilets had made a dangerous connection he was young and impressionable and now forever warped a good thing turned into something abhorrent he understood all this but he couldn’t stop soon even the sight of other toilets than his own got him going, the sound of flushing made him sweat with anticipation worst or best of all were the ads on tv for him it was porn they the equivalent to pornstars all of the toilets polished to perfection displayed and rotating showing all their sides just for him he thought about licking them sticking his tongue deep down into the bottomless pit of defecation, now, his desire grew more gripping over his sense of himself year after year he would spend his time browsing toilet models on the internet imagining him using them all for his benefit imagine him having his own house and filling every room with toilets of all models and times dirty ones clean ones futurism toilets dark grey dark brown bright pink with blue roses on the side during this trying time on his psyche his quest for the best deciding his life he meet a woman at the work where he worked to afford the costly price of his dream toilets they became close, he saw the shine he had seen inside the inner rim in his youth in her rapidly blinking eyes now a dangerous image started creeping like an invalid without his wheelchair inside his head, dragging it’s nails in the soft fleshy ground and screaming loudly without coherent words or phrases that had context. what if....she and a toilet became one, a synchronicity between man and object. a living, breathing, porcelain palace, the perfect metamorphosis. he was disgusted by himself. he couldn’t use her like an utility tool. so he came up with an alternate way of doing business, his business. end of the epic tale of discovery and heavy interpersonal drama between desire and responsibility.

now you see. i want you to be my toilet woman, i want you to make a flushing sound, love me like a good stationary does. i hope god forgives me for the shit i am about to commit. he took of his striped flashy tie and tied it around a desecrated 3 legged chair next to him while he started imagining the hours of limitless visceral full body like power experience ahead of him. he would savor this for months.

[Anonymous No.10089398]

>>10089268
Page 3 of 4 for this.

>>10082981
Personal opinion here but I think perhaps your starting sentence could be a little stronger. Seems kinda brief, dull, but hey -- it's informative I'll give you that.

Start is a little preachy. The best kind of evangelization is speaking of the beauty of your method first before anything else, especially finger-wagging.

Caps on " Very Powerful" was not necessary. I actually checked later down that this was kind of a program or something being sold. Didn't seem hinted enough at first though, I thought, looked more like a Caps error.

Caps on "See" not necessary.

Cap on "Slag" not necessary. "i'm" does though, no worry, probably a little mistake for that one.

Does "The Man On the Stage" need a TM? If not, calm it with those Caps, friend. If it's a tittle don't caps the "The" at the begginning nor the "On" of the middle, leave it to the nouns for this one.

Saw this in a novel once, but when naming pop culture tittle refences (like Cock Tail), you use italics. Could be wrong on this one though.

Caps on "Cunt" unecessary (unless of course you were trying some humor here about the female gender, in which I say fair play of words, sir.)

"fuck em" and "chuck em" should have speech marks between the word and the "em", but I could be wrong in this. Also missing a comma or full stop between "chuck em'" and "only," otherwise a run-on here.

Caps on "He" not necessary.

Comma between "he says" and "that" please. Or perhaps a full stop on the "easy."

There are key sentences and words here that I can only assume are exclusive to "The Very Powerful System" as a means to emphasize them, I'm sorry for the autism if I startled you.

Then I saw the next act...

So - are the words like triggers for this (spoilers) Assassin guy? (spoilers). If so, that is pretty darn creative.

Love it, good work anon. Real talent here I think. For the most part a lot of the words and prose mix and taste like good cocktail - surprising, fluid, goes easy on the throat. Some of the description of the first paragraph in Act 2 could use some thightening; shortening, but overall pretty good stuff.


My anon left me.

[Anonymous No.10089478]

>>10089398
Last post for this until I get more pieces updated, probably will I hope.

>>10080363
Brainlet here, already lost me on the jumble of words that is your second sentence, pls help.

Read through the rest and now I might need a college degree in Psychology, preferebly a Master's.

Or you could just say:
> I have a very hard time thinking, schizophrenia is hard, guys, like woah.

Kind of pretentious. Don't need to be complex for the sake of being complex if that is what you were trying to do. Just let it all hang loose, friend. Let it all hang loose. Chill.

[Anonymous No.10089742]

>>10089268

Thanks for your critique. I don't agree with your advice on commas, though.

[Anonymous No.10089769]

>>10089153
The chapter name is hackneyed. The first sentence contains two clichés: a dark lord and circling 'like vultures'. There's another cliché in 'the whole world stood still'. I got bored after that point.

[Anonymous No.10089821]

[Anonymous No.10089895]

>>10086580
I actually really like this. Poem, short story, or even novel material if you work at it enough

[Anonymous No.10090035]

This morning, after throwing my instant organic oatmeal cup into the compost, I got into my Prius and headed off for another day of work at my social network start-up. The “inspiration-space” that I share with four anti-procreation friends from college is a dog-friendly “fun-vironment” where the world’s most cutting-edge innovations can sprout naturally in any one of the ergonomic yoga womb-balls that we keep scattered around our cubicle-free work/share space. Digital integration is huge part of what we do. Since the free exchange of ideas and access to a wide diversity of worldviews is integral to the healthy function of a humane, though industrialized, democracy, we here at Trimble believe that we can provide 21st-century solutions to our shrinking world. Our direct involvement in supplying alkaline water to non-profits building recycling zones for the Arab Spring led to OH MY GOD, WHAT IT THAT? IT’S A FUCKING METEOR NO NO NO NO FUCK ME OH GOD NO!!!

[Anonymous No.10090109]

>>10086580
+1

[Anonymous No.10090375]

>>10086646
I know!
With my dick!

[Anonymous No.10090383]

>>10089154
kek

[Anonymous No.10090402]

>>10089821
would be better if undecipherable desu

[Anonymous No.10090408]

>>10090402
I hate cursive

[Anonymous No.10090412]

>>10090035
would read if not too long and verbose
needs more cuckholding tho
and drugs
and violence maybe

[Anonymous No.10090418]

>>10090408
palimpsest is the way to go

[Anonymous No.10090540]

>>10090418
That's neat

[Anonymous No.10090673]

>>10090540
glad to be of service, anon

[Anonymous No.10090714]

Without a common tongue, nation, or religion, we stood face to face. His arms outstretched holding a bag of essentials, we locked eyes. I feebly grasped his hands, taking the bag as I shook them. Although he’d never know my name, he gladly gave. He laid his hands upon my shoulders, and said something unintelligible. Although I didn’t understand his words, I knew what he had said. I bowed my eyes, then hugged him. We parted ways, never to see one another again; yet he’ll always be a part of me. I know now what he said. “I love you.”

[Anonymous No.10090746]

https://pastebin.com/QrKifFjq

I wrote this for an English class. The point was to capture style, mood, etc. of a text we were reading, Untouchable by Mulk Raj Anand. The reason I'm posting this is to corroborate/refute my teacher's comment. She apparently really liked my writing, said it could've been something "lifted from the novel" and claimed I have "immense talent". I do not believe her claims. Just want to know what people think I guess.

[Anonymous No.10090773]

>>10090746
then what?

[Anonymous No.10090784]

>>10085100
This seems ok. Reads like a pulp novel or James Bond. My first critique is about the cab driver knowing the narrator's name. Now, I'm not from a big city where taxis are used often, but I didn't think it was customary to introduce yourself to them. But again I've never been in a cab/taxi. My other problem was with this line "By the time...pulled away the edges of the plaster on the back of my hand". This description comes out of the blue. Why is there plaster on her hand? Perhaps this will be explained later. But this description doesn't make sense to me as it serves no purpose...at least yet.

[Anonymous No.10090788]

>>10090773
???
I do not understand

[Anonymous No.10090885]

>>10090788
why do you want to corroborate/refute your teacher's comment?
you either want to write or you don't
fuck yourself with your spineless false modesty i guess

[Anonymous No.10091808]

>>10089153
First sentence is a comma splice.

[Anonymous No.10091812]

>>10089154
Just guessing, but if I wrote a love story I’d base it on my own fantasies.

[Anonymous No.10092548]

https://pastebin.com/5yTRbV2L

Posted here a few weeks ago saying I was new to writing. Got told my story was all purple prose and garbage. Started this recently, want to know if it's any improvement/would it hold your attention

[Anonymous No.10092564]

>>10092548
critique others

[notsoanonymous No.10092580]

https://pastebin.com/bGA0qPca it's like 300 pages or something. I don't necessarily want critique, i want people to read my writings and maybe enjoy it, or get rich, or both

it's on fastpencil

[notsoanonymous No.10092598]

i just wanted to post my book somewhere in the literature section, i didn't want to critique or be critiqued D:<

[Anonymous No.10092606]

>>10090746
>https://pastebin.com/QrKifFjq
I agree with what 10090885 said, however I did read what you posted, and:

Way too unnecessarily/childishly grotesque at some points. Alot of it read like a weird greentext post or fanfiction sort of thing.

It was also excessively wordy at a lot of points, for no reason other than to flex your thesaurus.

However, the story had a decently cohesive narrative and the pacing was good.

[Anonymous No.10092618]

>>10092580
anon mind explaining exactly what this is? you're quoting the bible all over the place, and talking about how you're great at programming and esports in others.

[Anonymous No.10092620]

>>10092580
>That Title
>That Cover
>That table of contents
>that opening paragraph

yeah... no thanks

[notsoanonymous No.10092634]

>>10092618
it's a collection of all types of writing in the form of text,
in the course of many years.

so... some of it is incorporating scripture as like part of the book as a story, kind of like a undertone or overtone, kind of like how films have other films or literature in their movies or quotes or whatever.

there are poems, prose, monologues,

something in the lines of like a discussion/discourse i called 'freedoms & burdens' on the topic of dating while being a missionary, and how the discussion branches out into more broad concepts and lifestyle.

and then there are texts that are tumbler/twitter/facebook/ type posts.

and then some random bull crap that is like stuff that pops up in my head, kind of like a diary,

and then there is a little short story 'tatiana & daniel' so it's a book, but it's also technically a compilation or collection of a bunch of various writings.

[notsoanonymous No.10092643]

>>10092620

[notsoanonymous No.10092655]

>>10092618
like, if you were in someone else's mind, you could read their emails, their posts, their poems, their monologues, and random stuff they said in their lives, what they read- it's like divulging the way harry potter did in that water fountain bowl, so it's not like a linear story or film. it's like a compilation video of a bunch of videos and clips something like that, in form of literature (gonna be the next big things =D lol )

[notsoanonymous No.10092747]

oh, and a bunch of them are songs that I also recorded and published ( though I suck at vocals )

[Anonymous No.10092840]

first page of a short story i'm working on

>they're industrial painters
>they've just been informed they've won a sweepstakes for a large minority share in a local casino chain
>it's a scam
>they are naive

[Anonymous No.10092859]

>>10092840
critique others

[Anonymous No.10092971]

When you've cut junk food out of your lifestyle for as long as I have, you can't look back. Take Coca-Cola, for instance. One of the most recognizable brands in the world, it's been around for more than a hundred years, with a sweet, distinct flavour based on kola nuts from Africa. It's like candy in a bottle, and brings back memories of being a kid. At least, that's what I used to think.

After not drinking soda in a year, it's a very different experience. You crack it open and it sizzles and releases this wafting vapor, like radioactive waste. It's a sticky, bubbling tar that has the ability to strip paint off walls and clean toilets. Like any crap beer, it doesn't have a semblance of taste when it's at room temperature. And every commercial shows come cheerful millennials enjoying it out of a traditional glass bottle, but it's nigh impossible to find in that format because the Coca-Cola Company wants to save about two cents on production costs!

And don't get me started on Pepsi.

[Anonymous No.10093044]

>>10082271
>what are you trying to say, anyway?
my mind is scattered yet full. when I try to focus on one idea the background thought becomes amplified yet undefined, like static.

I dont try to overcomplicate my writing, it just seems the best way to describe things. I see anons had a hard time understanding it. other anons understood it perfectly, i dont know what to take away from this critique. Ill try to simplify a bit, but retain the poetic voice that I enjoy to write in.

[notsoanonymous No.10093058]

>>10092971
diet decaf coca cola :>

[Anonymous No.10093069]

>>10080709
DAMN. That wS good stuff but you need to practice more. Keep up the good work anon

[notsoanonymous No.10093072]

>>10092618
so, did you hate it alot. did you like anything from it.

[Anonymous No.10093103]

>>10092859
No, you critique others.

[Anonymous No.10093457]

>year 2025, post-apocalypse setting
>big theater stands among the dust and broken-down cars, assortment of neckbeards gather
>name: "McPolitics"
>an old man is blocking the entrance with large clippers
>he is trying to cut the tape around the entrance so that customers can get in
>"HAHAH BRAINLET KEK FAGGOT, HMMMMMM, HMMMM, HMMMMMM"
>he turns around, makes a speech about how much older he is than them, mentioning that he and his people were once part of the old civilization
>"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH WE"
>thirty or so voices or so chime in
>"LOL IF I TAKE THAT TAPE OFF WILL YOU DIE"
>he finally figures out how to cut the tape
>neckbeards rush in, some are trampled & left to suffocate
>theater screen shows a large assortment of "cringe" videos in which CGI versions of the now-extinct liberals say relatively silly things, followed by laughter and memes from the audience
>a special announcement is made
>curtains are pulled over the screen
>125 yr old, AIDS-ridden, hairless man with flamboyant clothing walks in
>thunderous applause
>"BASED MILO" "HAHAHAHAHA ROASTIES BTFO"
>he walks out
>screen comes back up again
what do you guys think? could I make it into a full novel?

[Anonymous No.10093464]

>>10093457
>what do you guys think? could I make it into a full novel?
I don't know anon. How about critiquing others first.

[Anonymous No.10093511]

>>10092564
hell is other people

[Anonymous No.10093517]

>>10092655
MOAR!

[Anonymous No.10093522]

>>10092840
hey you already put that shit here and someone liked the idea i think
so there's that i guess

[Anonymous No.10093547]

>>10080713
>>10080793
>>10080709
not really sure what you're trying to say
but i like how you say it
i'd really super duper fucking like to read something from you in a similar style about that neofolk gf from your pic and her volkswagen bus covered in moss post apocalyptic sex, i mean

[Anonymous No.10093552]

>>10081255
you should read pattern recognition from william gibson

[Anonymous No.10093581]

>>10092971
readable

[Anonymous No.10093591]

>>10093457
not funny
and stylewise >>10086580 is much better

[Anonymous No.10093609]

I've got my fingers crossed on this one my friends. Have been holding my breath for a long time for that to happen.

To quickly summarize, she's been around as long as Akira Lane. Maybe longer. I can remember as far back as 1999, we're looking at almost two decades for her to be showing barely her tits and ass. After 2010 she decided to go topless on her paid website, now and then. Not all the time. I showed her one Hustler pictorial where she bared her shaved muff with Cindy Starfall. Cindy btw, has been encouraging her to go do B/G scene, I'm still not going to hold my breath that long for her to do one. She's an admitted lesbian for sure.
With Akira Lane, that woman I know fucks alot off camera. Akira recently just decided to let us on some of that fun she's having with cock. I know Akira likes cock. Im not sold on Tia Kai even liking cock or getting near it. I mean she has not even dabbled with dildo's in her paid website.
Akira Lane built up her graduation to full on penetration by introducing us to her dildo toys in the late 2000's and early 2010's
It was a nice progression and she really did build up a long tease for her fans all these years.

I think Tia realizes that she should have done the same a long time ago already. For her to do B/G now straight away makes sense since I personally think she's hitting a wall.
I just think that all of her gigs have pretty much dried-up and now is the time to enter XXX to get her bank account replenished.
She's been piggy-backing off Cindy Starfall's appearances the last few years. Frankly, it's getting old. We all can see what Cyndi can, and does on screen. It's time for Tia Kai to step it up, NOW.
IMO, she does not even have to go gonzo right away with Johnni Darko. I can settle to see her go more mainstream, like with Hustler Video or better yet, Brazzers.

[Anonymous No.10093613]

>>10093609
I knew Tia before the horrible boob job. She seems to currently portray herself as lesbian-oriented with the implication that she and Cindy Starfall are lovers. Pre-boob job she was definitely hetero, and very sexual. For years and years, she has looked down on girls who actually did porn, but attended events as if she was a porn star. She has always held herself out to be a girl with a real job with a real company, and that her "modeling" was just a side thing. This precluded her from taking dick on camera. I was a member of her site for years. The only real reason I continued was I loved the look of one of her friends who from time to time popped up in her photos of her personal life, Diana Sang. I sincerely hope she does to some B/G scenes. She is one of those girls who look their best with a dick in their mouth.

[Anonymous No.10093615]

>>10093613
The member that replied first is on my Ignore list, so I can't see what he posted or if it's even related to the subject. Regardless, I'm sure it was an incoherent, rambling mess filled with inaccuracies and bizarre observations. Fortunately for me, I will never know.

[Anonymous No.10093621]

>>10093615
I spoke with Cindy Starfall about Tia and her relationship. She did'nt admit it, but a casual conversation reveals the relationship benefits both of them on the monetary level. I just find it hard to believe that Cindy likes pussy more better than the "boning" she gets on video. It's all too convenient of a story to not maintain it? To Tia, that is. (n) Certainly, Cindy does not need that facade to maintain her own business and persona. She does very well for herself and I also applaud Cindy for not succumbing to the anal addicts out there.
Anyways, about Tia again, yeah she definitely had her nose up on porn girls, pre boob job era. And funny as it is now, she is going out of her way to attend any kind of adult XXX conference and/or conventions. Ever since the rise of Cindy Starfall after 2010, Tia attached herself to her hip to attend these gigs all over the U.S. coast to coast.
Which leads me to believe she quit her daytime job at that point. And maybe she was down to working part time as a clerk or secretarial job somewhere in the outskirts of LA.
You can also tell about her habits and lifestyle by simply monitoring her daily calendar/journal online in her paid website. There's no secret to what she does and I like that she's still to this day fairly transparent about her life in general. With the exception that she's never discussed a male S.O. all this time for the obvious reasons that all these girls don't.

[Anonymous No.10093625]

>>10093609
>>10093613
>>10093615
>>10093621
Delete these and pastebin them.

[Anonymous No.10093627]

>>10093621
I'm not sure if you're lying or just plain clueless, but Tia is not a lesbian. Direct quotes from that Foxy Asian article...
Were you always a sexual person?

Yes I was always a sexual person. I love sleeping with both men and women! They each can have their own special talents.
What’s your craziest sex story?

I was dating this one guy and we were so hot and heavy after an amazing dinner. On the way back to the parking structure to the car we decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. The stairs were enclosed and once the door shut behind us, we started making out and groping each other. He pulled down my panties and started doing me doggy right there on the stairs. It was so hot and sexy.

[Anonymous No.10093629]

>>10093625
how do i do that?
sorry i'm drunk

[Anonymous No.10093630]

>>10093627
To me any flavor of escort, porn star, cam girl or soft core implied/tease model are all sex workers. I do not assign rank or status between categories. The object is to extract dollars $$$ from you wallet and get them transferred to theirs. You get what you pay for, if you don’t like it don’t come back for seconds hoping its going to get better.

Tia Kai has developed a marketing plan (she’s got us talking about her) that pays her bills and supports her chosen lifestyle. Some of these girls rip you off and count on newbies to take their place. Some cultivate a loyal customer base. It’s buyer beware when dealing with any sex worker.

[Anonymous No.10093633]

>>10093629
>how do i do that?
By posting your work. https://pastebin.com/

delete your previous post

[Anonymous No.10093642]

>>10093633
like this?
https://pastebin.com/p8jSBaWm

[Anonymous No.10093649]

>>10093642
yes. Now delete your previous post to free up space.

[Anonymous No.10093666]

NOTE: Your guest paste has been posted. If you sign up for a free account, you can edit and delete your pastes!
https://pastebin.com/rqrf2vr2

[Anonymous No.10093671]

>>10093666
shit, i'm the devil now

[Anonymous No.10093758]

>>10093069
Thank you. Any specific tips or impressions? I really don't know what I'm doing, I just write what I think fits best with the sentence before.

>>10093547
Thank you. It's about a man reading stickers on the toilet stall wall of a bar. The poem is the first sticker, the rambling of planes, woods and feasts is the imagination sparked by it. The second paragraph is him back in the real world, awakened by the man in the next stall audibly struggling, talking about the satisfying experience of his own defecation process for a bit, then describing the palimpsestic nature of the stall wall covered in stickers, carvings and graffiti. Not sure where I'll go with this, I have trouble thinking of the next witty sticker, but I could probably weave in the woman. It would fit in pretty well with the theme of ridiculous pagan ramblings sparked by toilet wall literature.

[Anonymous No.10093817]

>>10080793
>You two are not perhaps the same author, are you?

Yes, I am. Thank you for your response!

[Anonymous No.10094099]

>>10093758
>It's about a man reading stickers on the toilet stall wall of a bar. The poem is the first sticker, the rambling of planes, woods and feasts is the imagination sparked by it. The second paragraph is him back in the real world, awakened by the man in the next stall audibly struggling, talking about the satisfying experience of his own defecation process for a bit, then describing the palimpsestic nature of the stall wall covered in stickers, carvings and graffiti. Not sure where I'll go with this, I have trouble thinking of the next witty sticker, but I could probably weave in the woman. It would fit in pretty well with the theme of ridiculous pagan ramblings sparked by toilet wall literature.

yeah, i got it
just write about something sexy now plz

[Anonymous No.10094388]

>>10093457
It's shit.

[Anonymous No.10094482]

The wind that had pushed her out the window had lifted, the assassin began to fall, She had two choices, direct herself towards the water and hopefully chancing an escape past the city and it’s templars, past Malian who any moment would be arriving soon enough to finish the job, to keep her dream going, to retire someday as successful assassin someone who has survived through all the chaos of politics and the slaughter men, who can put down their blade and enjoy the riches of the world escaping to an all the worlds unknown somewhere in peace? Or choose the second option, let it end now; hit the ground and die. Give up the false hope of escape, avoid the interrogation, the torture and the slow death she deserves, that all failed assassin's deserved, for only death respected by assassins is death in battle, to be caught would only dishonor the people who trained her and her mother so suffered physically and mentally with the feeling of shame for giving her children to a rotten world. With the thought of her mother, she decided to herself “To give up now would only allow the world to win, to allow the history of her life to be defined solely through the nexus of the political control, I refuse the easy escape of death, the witch will not take her life.

Before she turned her body to face the water head-on she could see the Maillian had jumped after her. First Millian appeared in her original form, within seconds she became a hawk diving full speed after her, seeing this, the assassin responded quickly throwing her payload of tools and daggers slowing the descent of the hawk. As she proceeded to hit the water she needed to be careful, as she would have only a few seconds to plan, likely, swimming to safety was not an option.

The assassin had to use only her trump card, make a run past the Templars to the levies heading down to finally merge into marketplace crowd on the middle floor. With one last look at millian whom as she predicted transformed into an alligator making it impossible to outswim her, the assassin cleared her mind, closed her eyes and prepared herself to listen to the world, to the voices of men, to the direction of the wind, to the various minute temperatures differences between the metals, bricks and wood, by doing this, by blinding herself from seeing the world directly, she blinded the world from seeing her, she became invisible.

[Anonymous No.10094493]

As she hit the water, she swam up and pulled herself out of the water from the pier, with the sound of the alligator hitting the water behind her she headed towards the levees leading to the middle floor, eyes remained closed keeping her invisible, In this state of focus, she navigated towards the levies by retaining a loose dream-like visualization of the environment around in her mind, it was a constantly morphing picture, twisting and updating on her the memories of the upper floor, contrasted with the current incoming sounds and smells she collected nearby, but all the details were of poor quality, images in her mind such as signs and doors windows would dart around, revealing her uncertainty of where exactly they were placed in the world, but by hearing the templars talking and smelling perfume and the other smaller ways these rich men masked their body odors, combined with her memories and understanding of the patrol routes of this particular time and day something she had accrued before the assassination, she was clear as to where the Templars were, such the images she had of them stayed locked in place, with only the slightest of changes. Still, the only problem was Millian, due to her being shapeshifter she could not determine without looking what creature Millian had shifted to, was thus Milan was invisible to her vision in this state, she could hear the sound of a very large monster arising and Maillian with a twisted voice screaming from the water “find her”. She had to make assumptions about what this creature was, the most logical choice was Millian would likely shift to a creature that could smell well, so the assassin had to change her focus, in this state it was possible to hide things extending past her body, like the sounds of her foot movements, or even her smell these, however, unlike the legend of assassin who could without thinking, hide entire armies before the start of battle, she needed to focus even harder. As the assassin got closer the levees, something was off, by hearing the sound of the nostrils of the large creature Millian became, Milian was still following her scent and headed towards her with great speed. The assassin was spotted, Millian could somehow see, hear, or sense something the assassin forgot about. It didn’t matter the assassin was almost there managing to get past the last of the Templars, who in fear of the creature Milian became, moved far away from the levies. The assassin was in the clear. At the edge of the upper floor she finally took a dive to the lower floors, managing to land on the different platforms, sliding down the many levies ropes, and finally dropping the spell to see what form Milan was, her eyes opened to the sight of the dragon flying over the edge of the upper floor looking turning its sight towards her.

[Anonymous No.10094626]

October 23, 2007
7:30 AM
43rd & Lexington
Midtown Manhattan
New York City

Chapter 1

The coffee at Steve Goldman’s usual breakfast joint, New Yolk City, was never
that great. Armando, the 43-year-old owner and chef, relied upon a coffee maker that
the regular customers referred to as “Shocky.” Half of the time, Shocky tripped the
circuit breaker. When it was not on the fritz, its coffee (if it could really be called that)
tasted only slightly better than brown dumpster drippings.

Sitting at the counter of New Yolk City, Steve took a sip of his cup of coffee. It was
as gross as always, but he would have raised hell if Armando ever bought a new model.
For Armando’s customers, New Yolk City’s deplorable hot beverages were part of its
charm. The restaurant, with its greasy eggs and home fries, was a breath of fresh air for
those working in the floors above it.

Steve was the manager of Paradise Found, a bookstore on the fifth floor of the
building at 43rd & Lexington. The three stories in between Paradise Found and New Yolk
City held a large Banana Republic outlet. The thirty stories above Steve’s place were
dominated by Roach & Shazz, an accounting firm.

After finishing his meal, Steve left the diner through the side door that led into
the western part of the moderately plush lobby. He nodded and smiled to the attendant,
whose name he could never remember, who sat behind the long desk that spread along
the eastern wall of the interiors. The elevators at the north end of the lobby faced the
revolving street doors to the south that led into New Yolk City and the vestibule. Steve
entered a fairly crowded elevator, which primarily held accountants and secretaries who
were heading to the floors above.

[Anonymous No.10094630]

>>10094626

After Steve got off at Paradise Found, he unlocked the frosted-glass front door of
the bookstore and started preparing for the first customers of the day.
A few years ago, back in 2004, Steve had brainstormed with the owner of
Paradise Found, Marty Spinoza, and an electrician to reconfigure the lighting. Before
that, the shop had the same fluorescent fixtures that were found in many of the city’s
public schools: white, harsh light that gave off a medium monotone hum, boring
mercilessly into student’s skulls. Steve remembered the sound all too well from his
youth. Now, the bookstore featured soft, yellow lights that were both easy on the eyes
and provided a calm atmosphere. In addition, Steve had petitioned Marty for a half-dozen
white noise machines. Although Marty was reluctant at first, it was a worthwhile
purchase. The result was an environment that presented an oasis for the city’s book
lovers. The ambience was relaxing, and the white noise blocked out the street noise of
the world below.

Steve walked back to Paradise Found’s staff area, which contained a well-worn
maroon couch and a small wooden table that sat four people. Along one wall, there were
filing cabinets that held various administrative documents. Steve walked over to the
counter that ran across the opposite side of the room, and began making a cup of coffee
with the Bonavita coffee maker housed there. While the java at New Yolk City was
certainly unique, Steve preferred a better tasting blend while he was on the clock.
Still preparing his cup, Steve heard the bell at the entrance ring, signaling the
arrival of today’s cashier, Francis Nowakowski. Francis was a 23 year-old Polish
immigrant to the U.S., who had recently graduated with a degree in English literature
from New York University. He was a hard worker, meticulous in his efforts to do a good
job. Francis had been working at Paradise Found since he was a junior undergraduate
student. Steve appreciated him, and was glad to call him a coworker.
Fresh cup of coffee in hand, Steve headed out to the main area of the store
towards the managerial office near the cash register. He was greeted by Francis, who
was courteous as ever. It was a new day, with plenty of work ahead.

[Anonymous No.10094661]

Can you guys just tell me if this is shit? It is the start of a fantasy book I am writing. I have someone with a following who I think I can get to shill this for me when it is done, so I will have exposure. It is just a question of whether it is garbage that won't sell in spite of that.

[Anonymous No.10094756]

>>10094661
if you review something I will give a full critique.

[Anonymous No.10094802]

>>10094756
How can you tell what he reviews? :think:

[Anonymous No.10094811]

I really want to get into writing short horror stories and shit like that. I picked up a couple of books on the subject and have been trying to write a story per chapter.

I tried to make things subtle, but a friend told me they were too subtle. I beefed them up a bit and decided to share with you guys.

https://pastebin.com/MHen7Qwy

Please feel free to give me any constructive criticism you can think of. I want to get better and I am not afraid of learning.

[Anonymous No.10094818]

>>10094811
I'm not going to read it because the grammar in your post is atrocious.

[Anonymous No.10094859]

>>10094756
I didn't review anything because I can't really do it well and I hate saying bad things because I don't want to upset anyone, but I will try. In fact here is two of them.

>>10092840
I don't see anything wrong with it except that the sentence in the second paragraph that starts with "This was a time not to be lived once" is way too long.
>maw
Does this mean mother?

>>10094811
>shitlord
Isn't that something exclusively used by tumblr for people they deem to be sexist or whatever? I haven't followed any political bollocks for a long time so idk. I'd change that though, if for no other reason that its internet speak. I don't hear people say 'lol' in real life for instance. But then again it's from the characters perspective and he seems young so maybe that's something he'd say. Maybe it's fine. idk. I'm not good at this.

But I didn't really get it desu.
>tfw brainlet

[Anonymous No.10094865]

>>10089315
>>10089319
read my text you fucking untalented cunts

[Anonymous No.10094873]

>>10094865
no u

[Anonymous No.10094875]

>>10094859
>But I didn't really get it desu.
By this I mean I am not sure where the horror aspect lies. A kid has nightmares then kills himself.

Was it ghosts? Ayy lmao? El Diablo? idk

[Anonymous No.10094878]

>>10094875
Horror is like writing in modernist prose. No one should do it anymore.

[Anonymous No.10094886]

>>10089315
Punctuation, friend. This is what you need.

t. didn't make it past the second sentence

[Anonymous No.10094921]

>>10094886
t. pleb that hasn't expanded his mind and is still caught up in the mind maze

[Anonymous No.10095002]

>>10094859
>>10094875

Don't feel like a brainlet, Anon. I wanted it to be the implication that the bed was made from the Yggdrasil and, as revenge on people for harming it, it would harm all people it could. I tried to tie things together with the ending quotes and the early-mentioning of Danny being a shitty person who also killed himself. I had hoped that the implication people would create would be "Yggdrasil makes people see their worst nightmares until they can't take it any more."

I'm still getting this whole subtlety thing put together, so don't feel like a brainlet. That's on me, not you.

I appreciate you taking the time to read it, though.

[Anonymous No.10095191]

"Picasso’s Guernica"

Anguish crystallised
into quaintness. All eyes open,
rapt with something black-and-white
memory has lost. A bawdy punchline
has startled them, frozen puppet-faces;
stocking-beasts, eyes bemused, emerging
like rude gags from the blast.
A painted candle stretching
the swing, the creak of a door,
the mummer’s still leg
dragged to her horse-fallen confederate:
a mural, an exotic village play.

How blood clots, lava
cools; sheeny paint dries to
grey on a pale stretch of canvas.
Screams stagger to laughs; pain
that signalled war in past
stalls for a few forced minutes
in a museum, then lets go.

[Anonymous No.10095592]

>>10093517
More what. You like?

[Anonymous No.10095639]

>>10094859

Yes "maw" does indeed mean mother. Would you advise I capitalize it?

and that paragraph is meant to be stand-out but I take your point. Thanks.

[Anonymous No.10095834]

Daily reminder.

[Anonymous No.10095882]

>>10094482
I think the first paragraph is too dense. It could use some more clear sentences without the barrage of commas.

>>10094626
>>10094630
The writing is good, but I think you could trim some of the details unless they come to be important later on.

>>10094661
I noticed some inconsistency in voice in your first paragraph. I was getting an enchanted feeling until the phrase "a lot". I think if you expanded your vocabulary it would help with the genre you're trying to write.

>>10094811
you're using way too many adjectives, but its a good start. keep writing everyday and you'll get better. The vocabulary seems fine, but try to be more concise.

[Anonymous No.10095889]

>>10095882
my critiques

my work:
The storm had become a real concern even before the waves churned our boat. Other vessels had heeded the warnings and escaped the area while they could. However, we pressed on, or should I say Captain Pierce pressed on. He kept saying to me "I'll get us there in one piece boy, just you watch, just you watch.” and I did watch as we struggled to overcome the waves that had begun to overtake our ship. We had drifted into a harbor with a coast line of jagged rocks. They were the color grey that only the heat deep within in the earth could make. The rocks must have been thirty feet tall and we were getting closer to them despite the Captain’s best efforts to right our course. He reached into his coat pocket and grabbed a battered flask. His hands trembled as he unscrewed the cap. He brought the flask to his lips but it was dry. "Damn! John, John! Get some… some damn whiskey boy! hurry!”

I ventured below deck and made my way through a tight corridor of rooms. About the time I reached the crew quarters, I felt a jolt that rocked the whole ship sideways. I was knocked to the ground, but on my way down I struck my head on a metal railing. The lights flickered then the cabin went dark. I came to and began to crawl around looking for a light, but the cabin was still pitch black. I could feel the ship buckle underneath me as the brutal waves pummeled the iron hull. Suddenly, the red emergency lights illuminated the interior of the ship. A siren began, long and low, the kind you hear when things are going very badly. I could feel the pain start to radiate from my forehead. I reached up and patted the area, a deep red blood seeped from the gash. My vision was blurry, but I carried on.

I emerged from the crew cabins to find the hallway leading towards the kitchen filled with smoke. I went back and grabbed a blanket from a bed, wrapped it over myself, then dropped to my knees and moved down the hall. The smoke grew more intense as I drew closer. I held the blanket over my throat and nose like a baklava, although my eyes were still exposed to the harsh smoke. I began to hear commotion from the kitchen.

[Anonymous No.10095919]

>>10095882
>>10095889
We had been battling the sea for half a day. The morning sun barely passed beyond the overcast skies of the northern Atlantic when the storm began. We were somewhere up around Maine, maybe we had came to Canada at that point. It’s difficult to remember. The day before we had docked in a port on the edge of Massachusetts. It was late in the afternoon when we disembarked from the ship.
The pier was old, but well kept. It possessed a patina gained from the battering of sea water and cold winds. It was an odd sight, we the only vessel in the harbor minus some local crafts. Some of the boys and I took off and went into town for necessities. Although Alan was a wonderful cook, we were getting tired of pot roast and mashed potatoes. One good thing about our line is that they fed us well. Coffee in the morning with pastries made fresh most days. Warm coffee always helped the cold mornings on the bow. For lunch we’d have hot sandwiches; Ruebens, ham & cheese, or a pastrami. Dinner would come and we’d have a nice meal. Usually together in the small built-in down from the kitchen. I never liked using nautical terms for non-sea traveling folk, too pretentious if you ask me. Gully this, starboard that. No one can make sense of it, and neither could I for a while. I can sometimes be slow to learn, but that’s not really important. Where were we? Yes, dinner. For dinner we would have hardy meals cooked with fat and butter. Roasted beef with vegetables, potatoes, heavy bread. Stick to your ribs food they’d call it. Spaghetti and meatballs or sausages. Things to keep us men filled and working.
We disembarked from the ship at a quarter past three. It was overcast. I thought, that’s not going to bode well for our trip tonight.
It was a cool fall day, I was wearing thick cotton pants, boots, a wool knitted cap, and a heavy jacket. I hadn’t shaved in weeks, and at the time my hair had just began to recede. I felt like Jack Nicholson in the Shining, and I had a demeanor to match. We first went to a general store, the man behind the counter was wearing a thick flannel and a scowl. The room smelled of cheap tobacco.

[Anonymous No.10096608]

>>10079946
https://pastebin.com/g29ZZi8y

[Anonymous No.10097292]

>>10079988
https://pastebin.com/Rmq8Z0C0
Middle chapter in a book I'm writing. Be brutal lads.

[Anonymous No.10097409]

>>10096608
critiques others

[Anonymous No.10097746]

>>10096608
mysterious story. I was slightly confused at this point:

>The hare’s eyes widened, and then went limp as the bear brought the painting down onto his skull, repeatedly.

because "his" is ambiguous there. I figured it out eventually, though.

I like the mysteriousness, the dialogue is kind of unrealistic and nothing really happens, though. I'd read more, just the same, however.

Also, I don't really like the violence... something morbid about a twitching dying hare. Who wants to poison his imagination with things like that?

[Anonymous No.10097749]

>>10096608
>>10097746
Now, in return, you must critique one of my stories, here:
>>10080199
>>10080242

I think they're sort of similar to yours, but also different in many ways, too.

[Anonymous No.10097762]

>>10081502
>posting with an anime reaction image
Way to ruin the thread dumbass, now everyone is going to want to do the opposite of what you want.

[Anonymous No.10097819]

Porcelain walls, too sturdy to break,
reflect all of the light in on itself.
The stark white teeth of the beast
they gnash and gnaw.
Every night they whisper, "This is not your home".
The largest open space is the dining room.
The rest is a series of cramped hallways
Over cream cheese bagels and ginger ale
I discuss how the bright fluorescent lighting
is immeasurably worse than the dark.
In the morning
I ask them to keep my shades closed.

[Anonymous No.10097823]

ladyslipper

Fuck around on the weekend,

am I the weak end of our link?

Spring breaks and the lady's slippers,

pink and fragile, are lined up outside.

But you're still inside, waiting for rain

and a little something extra,

to help with the pain.

[Anonymous No.10097828]

We danced in the back room
with a broken disco ball for a moon
and artichokes for hearts,
pretty tough until were baked.
I got on the pink line at 3 a.m and made it to the liquor store by 3 o’ five.
All the guys out front tried to sell us kill,
but we had enough death in a bottle
for the two of us.

[Anonymous No.10097838]

>>10097819
>>10097828
bad, with hope for improvement

>>10097823
bad, just really fucking bad

[Anonymous No.10097859]

>>10095834
>6th grade reading level

[Anonymous No.10097863]

>>10079946
3am, cold, dark and desolate. Contained in this room that I call my own, meager but safe. I sit on my bed, neck arched forward, eyes narrowed. It's way too late for this, I have important things to do tomorrow seeing as I'm a busy guy with a life to maintain. I really ought to be responsible, that's my moral imperative. But all that can wait for now.
My eyes strain looking at the screen, half-comatose. One more... It's only sleep, it's just in my mind anyways. How is counting clickbait articles any different from sheep? Instead of hopping the fence, they leap over logic. Ha HA! I tend to amuse myself, this is the side of me I need to reveal to more people. Then I would be incredibly famous, or at least at the level of a local celebrity. That certainly would show them.
10 Ways Milennials are Ruining Novels. You won't believe Number 8!
Will I seriously not believe it? I'm anticipating some earth-shattering revelation. The waves of exhaustion have subsided, the tide recedes into an ocean of kneejerk reactionism. Emphasise the jerk.
I scan intently at the article and forcefully breathe through my nose. The contents have rather upset me, aren't older Millennials approaching their 40's nowadays? Yeah, this is all just nonsense.
Number 1. Prose is dead! Number 2.The Young Adult Bildungsroman reigns supreme! Number 3. Page turning culture! Number 4. They aren't buying Books! ....
Stop, stop, stop. I'm not getting to number 8, it's too painful, why it's hardly more than I can bear.
Comments 94
Filter >Newest
- I get public transport all the time, and I've noticed that these young people "Millennials" are always on their phones! They're not getting stuck into a good book like the old days. My grandson never talks to me anymore... :( Likes: 4 Reply to this comment?
Yes I shall and with a burning desire for vengeance. My fingers are already doing the work, tapping away in a frenzied mania, this is it, my magnum opus.
- Shut up you old cunt! Maybe if you weren't so fucking boring your grandson would talk to you!!!! Some of us don't have time for your boring old boomer ways! I have a life to maintain and you aren't part of it. It's called life in the fast lane Grandma, and it's accelerating... You, on the other hand are crawling towards the grave. Likes: You liked this comment
My work here is done, I close my trusty laptop and the bright blue light encompassing the room is replaced with blackness. Now I can rest peacefully alone knowing that I said what needed to be said. I've always prided myself on that ability, I'm relentlessly honest, a free spirit, a real provocateur. Rummaging through my blinds I can observe some light peering through the clouds. It must be close to morning. Fuck, not again. If I'm lucky I might be able to bleed a couple of hours of sleep out of this dry sponge of a night. Good grief, how did I let this happen again?

[Anonymous No.10097867]

>>10097863
I lie still, eyes closed staring at the back of my eyelids. Nothing, no dreams, no desire. This continues for about two hours.
And so I open my eyes and find myself engulfed in a syrupy haze, thick and viscous. A little caffeine will do me good this morning I reckon. Yes, it'll get me through the morning, I will clear this haze and ignite the day. The window is cracked open and through my blinds the sun seeps in. The heat continues to pour down on me like a glaze. Where's that drink? I left a 500 mL can of V (tm) The Energy Hit That Improves You a Bit! (tm). Bought for $3.50 on sale at 7 Eleven yesterday. What a bargain! I rise to attention, stretching, yawning.
My apartment's kitchen really is filthy, disorderly, disgusting, the sordid cesspit of a late 20's malcontent. The sink is lined with half cleaned frypans, and dishes chucked in slothfully without rhyme or reason. Consequently there's a prominent stench of soap scum and assorted rotting meats that the heat has only exacerbated. On the kitchen counter lies a collection of assorted bottles filled with urine, I was in a rush at the time, I'm not an animal. No time to sort all of this out though, I have an important day at work after all, doing important things. As long as no one else sees it I should be in the clear. I just need to keep up appearances. Light blue button up shirt. Check. Clean underpants (mostly). Check. Grey slacks. Check. Fashionable tie featuring a fish of some sort. Double check.
I step towards the fridge and crack open the seal, like I'm opening a treasure chest. The breath of cool air as I open it offers a moment of respite from the heat. There it is, right where I left it. The fridge hums and glows as the can sits there like an idol, knowingly, ready to be taken and drank. The nectar of the Gods. *Crack psssh* The sound rings in my ear, I've heard it so many times before. Orgasmic. The bubbles ignite my tongue, jumping around as I swill the liquid around my gullet. The doctor tells me to stop, 'heart rate this', 'blood sugar that' but I need this to survive.

[Anonymous No.10097869]

>>10097867
My heart starts pumping faster, there's an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my chest but it's necessary. Now, with my veins filled, I jolt to attention. Caffeine used to work so much better, it's more of a dull jolt nowadays, like an old car starting up. I used to work better. The common sentiment is that the heart is a symbol of love and compassion. However, my doctor has mentioned on more than one occassion that heart disease is the most deadly thing there is. "Heart disease is the most deadly disease there is, Jim." He would often say. He was to the point, and I appreciated his directness. That's the thing they don't tell you about that lump of flesh and muscle residing in your chest. That thing will attack you at a moment's notice. It will seize you in your sleep without mercy.

The train reaches a stop, whilst I wait steadfastly behind the yellow line as instructed. I have a respect for the rules, you see. Some people seem intent in neglecting trainline etiquette, whereas I am resolute and dutiful. Sometimes I look down in the crevice between the station and the train before I step on, in order to test my mental fortitude. I pray one day I never fall down there.
I sit and I wait, perusing on my phone letting the time slip away before I arrive at my important job. The connecting doors open and through them emerge a pair of Myki officers. One stout and balding, while the other taller, clearly the brains of the operation. It's coming back, that feeling of helplessness. That feeling of being victim to authority, my autonomy deleted, revoked. This wasn't part of the social contract, this wasn't part of the deal. The taller officer approaches me unaware.
"Sir, could you please show me your concession?"
They've found me out the cretins, the mongrels. This is such a fierce abuse of authority, it's oedipal, it's sick.
"I-I have seemed to have misplaced my concession, but I definitely have it! Definitely! Just not here, I'm a student you see as I have my ID right here."
I shuffle through my wallet, with hands uneasy, peeling through a series coupons, a library card used twice, a blood donor card and a student ID. There she is. I hand it over with new found confidence.
"Surely this is evidence of a concession?"
The officer inspects the ID like a hawk, deciphering the contents of my ID. He'll find out though, it will stand up to his intense scrutiny.
"Sir, this ID is at least five years out of date. It's evidence that you've been avoiding paying the full fare to ride the train."
He jotted down with his pen, applying with force. I could see it. The whole train could see it. The blue ink penetrating his yellow booklet scratching, inscribing my inevitable financial demise. He hands me the piece of paper.
"You'll receive a more detailed fine through the mail in a couple days."
$250? The nerve! I could buy so much V with that. I could buy anything, anything! He's a crook, and the system has failed me.

[Anonymous No.10097873]

>>10097869
My supervisor, Beth Henderson is waiting for me within the office. She's middle-aged around 45 or so, you don't usually ask that kind of thing out of respect. Beth's a divorcee, but she looks rather attractive for her age, she hasn't let a failed marriage get in the way of her insurance job, that's for damn certain. Anyways she's pretty nice to me personally, we have a rapport.
"Hello there Jim. Having some Monday morning woes?"
"Hehe yeah, good thanks."
She looks confused, perhaps I was talking too fast? I am usually fairly jumpy in conversation so I don't blame her. It's okay, next time better to stay silent, less trouble, less chance for error.
"Well, I'm at least glad that you could grace us with your presence."
I stand up straighter and offer a solid alibi.
"I know, sorry I'm late today Ms. Henderson. I just got caught up in a... Disturbance."
I wasn't lying really. That train ticket really sent me over the edge, I had to buy another V at the stop to calm myself down. This wouldn't have happened if I just had gotten some sleep.
"Yeah well, this is the fourth time this month with you and your little "disturbances" Jimmy. You have to make an effort to be punctual. Simon over here arrives everyday on time, sometimes even five minutes before."
Simon waves and returns to his spreadsheet, smugly. The prick.
"Listen... Jimmy, we all appreciate what you do around here. You're a good employee, serviceable even."
She looks strained as she says it, like she's passing a kidney stone, even though she couldn't know that pain. It's excruciating by the way. Beth stares blankly as if I'm not aware of what or who I am. 'Good employee, but not great.' Just say it you coward. I make my deadlines, I read your memos, I do my work. What more do you want? Do you want me to love it? To worship it? To kiss your feet everyday and thank the heavens themselves I have such a great job? There's no pride in being a wageslave, there's no pride in being a NEET either but this is not much better. However it is at least important, I do wear a tie after all, that's what matters.
I nod.
"...Thank you Beth."
She puts her hand on my shoulder and I flinch, it's soft.
"Which is why... and I have to apologise for this, you know this isn't easy. We're making some cuts. Reality is, people aren't buying as much insurance nowadays. Crazy I know, but hey this business comes and goes, like a tide, or some other thing that comes and goes. I'm not good with metaphors, ya dig?"
"...Ya dig?" Do people still use that phrase? I wasn't going to hedge a bet either way, I don't get out enough but Beth does seem like more of a cosmopolitan, a citizen of worldly knowledge.
"Anyways, It's been hard on all of us here. So we're going to have cut your hours."
Beth scrunches her mouth into a sort of grimace, which basically conveys 'tough shit lad'. I've become accustomed to that look.
And that's all I've got so far, I'd appreciate someone with a keen eye to point out how shit I am

[Anonymous No.10097877]

>>10097863
>>10097867
>>10097869
>>10097873
Pastebin this

[Anonymous No.10097878]

>>10097292
>https://pastebin.com/Rmq8Z0C0
First- a Pianist AND keyboarder?

What I gathered was this is starting to a cyberpunk detective story, which is getting me up to full mast very quickly.

The imagery is very good, a little barebones not that I could do much better, leaving much to the reader's imagination. The pacing and structure of paragraphs, and how much happens in each paragraph, varies.

Possibly you might not want to have more than an entire concert in one paragraph (line 85), but there's nothing wrong with it as is.

Lines that the MC is thinking to himself could have ' ' surrounding it, and speech could keep it's " " surroundings, or the thoughts could be italicized. Personal preference to not leave thoughts unmarked as just plaintext.

Exposition is very good, never info-dumpy or too long, happens in conversation. Only critique here is that it might seem slightly contrived.

Mine is linked in that post you replied to.

[Anonymous No.10097885]

>>10097877
Aight
https://pastebin.com/V1TMPRAt

[Anonymous No.10097985]

Kinda drunk, decided to try something new. Will critique at least 3 more in the morning.


Smooth droplets swam coyly across glass like velvet brushing skin, as compelled by nature as I to survey in reverent pleasure the debauchery sprung forth before the lankish outline constituting my presence. A harsh slap from supple flesh snapped dull red brick and lonely wood floor into offensive orientation. Awareness of conventional tune drifting through waxy smog presented itself in a much more agreeable manner than my shortly beloved transgressor. Blazes of flailing hair and hasty limbs cut swathes through undisturbed souls as precariously I ventured forth towards all that occupied my thoughts and desires. Four pronged stools of fourteen-dollar plastic dotted a matching table equally rooted in poverty. The gentle-lipped broad claiming her stake of space through liberal usage of plump cheeks jolted upright at quarter speed as I advanced gracelessly to rejoin my commune.

[Anonymous No.10097988]

>>10097985
>kinda drunk
Probably why it's shit. Don't write drunk. It's a meme.

[Anonymous No.10098134]

>>10097838
You're literally cancer, fuck off

[Anonymous No.10099055]

>>10084591
Jesus, I suck that badly?

[Anonymous No.10099184]

Chief said i might be schizo, i was hunting a serial killer, Maniac Magnum, he was called. Would shoot up people, in the stomach when coming out of gas stations, pshhhh, was nothing to me, took him in an alley, caught his shadow. Knocked his teeth out with one swift blow. Chief said, no murderviolence, i said. HAhaha, you bet, chief. Throat chop, Maniac Magnum goes down, i stomped his face in, but in the cool brutal way not the renegade cop going over the line into disgusting brutality type of way. Next moment, i go out, blackout. Chief said they found me on the street, laying down in the mud, face first, gurgling. He said i was cradling a Magnum. I said, chief, it was Maniac Magnum’s Magnum. I took him down to the town of brown (the color of the grave) He said, there was only your fingerprints on the gun, i said. I only trust what i can see and i can’t detect no thing as fingerprints with my eyes, you crazy, chief. He said, cop, i think you are the one going crazy, accumulating all your experience with murderous junkies in the field and making it into your own persona, performing a sort of spiritual meta act of murder vengeance on this whole dirty city to put your mind into a clean slate for the next day of work, killin’ in the night and saving in the day, you are the Magnum Maniac. I said, fat chance. First of all, i’m no maniac, i’m clean, check my psych card. He said, yeah it said you’re prone to moments of replicating horrible acts, i said, i don’t think that is something you can see, you a liar, chief, excuse me. I have some crimes, to stop, the Magnum Maniac may still be out on a manic spree, gotta stop him before the city panics. Chief said, you will be chasing the scent of yourself. I said, may that be, but if anyone is gonna catch me, it’s gonna be me, bye. Damn, the chief said, he may be a loose cannon that’s mentally insane and will go out now to murder pedestrians in a sick recreation of past trauma, but dammit. If he don’t get the work done. Godspeed, cop.

[Anonymous No.10099532]

>>10079988
>https://pastebin.com/9VQCFEvt
I feel like it could be more punchy as currently the prose stagnates in areas it doesn't have to and seems to dwell on certain details just to increase character count. I suggest you make some use of the word "while": "I slid down the ramp absent of Lamar while they got him over the threshold", maybe if it happens sequentially you could put "I slid down the ramp absent of Lamar, others getting him over the threshold afterward." I feel this would work better, but I might be wrong.
"it came not too long afterwards" draws out time more than it needs to I think. I believe if you want to make something suddenly you should express it with less articulated and shorter words, in the least compund sentence you can imagine. You could just say "I braced myself for impact with the street below - it sent me rolling and coughing out onto the sidewalk".
Other than the pacing and flow I rather liked it

[Anonymous No.10099979]

How long should a chapter be? In the thousand words or two thousand words?

[Anonymous No.10100164]

>I am sad that I can't see straight because I'm not that fat.

How'd I do?

[anonymous No.10100167]

>>10099979
take this as an opinion, though I will say that it is more leaning toward convenience/expedience/functionality: a chapter is a separation, or an indication of one- therefore, there should be a reasoning behind the separation- for instance; a change in subject. Is something different/unique/peculiar happening in a different chapter, so as to separate chapters? If not, what's this fascination over the quantity of words? Ask yourself why there are chapters in the first place.

[Anonymous No.10100419]

>>10097878
>First- a Pianist AND keyboarder?
Is someone who plays a keyboard just a keyboarder? I'll have to look into what the word for that is.

>I closed my left hand around it's muzzle and deflected the point of death away from me with extreme extreme ease
>extreme extreme

If I had to point any single thing, you try to cram too much into sentences, and often times the descriptions sound off, like it's being spoken by an ESL. Try to read your words out loud, and see if they sound natural. I know some people like the more fanciful language of yesteryear, but it's really hard to get just right

[Anonymous No.10100420]

>>10097878
Also it's a chapter from the middle of my story

[Anonymous No.10101245]

>>10098134
No you.

[Anonymous No.10101410]

>>10100164
Shit

[Anonymous No.10102002]

That year the floodgates opened, and the beavers lost their homes,
And the river ran over and stripped the colour from everyone's water bottles and televisions,
And the halogen hum gave way to a trickle,
And the birds made their homes in chimneys,
And all the young squirrels learned how to tightrope,
And at least one family of racoons abandoned their attic home,
And dogs and cats were carried out by heroes,
And a deer took back her ancestors' land.

[Anonymous No.10102439]

I've written 5 paragraphs on paper hut I'll transcribe it here later.

[Anonymous No.10102668]

Would someone be

A) lost in reverie
or
B) lost in a reverie

???

[Anonymous No.10102700]

>>10097885
>Two days and no feedback
I get this is a slow board but sheeeit.

[Anonymous No.10102711]

I find myself lost in cinderblock labrynths yet again,
My mind recedes to time long past
To that little house on the mountian side
Surrounded by trees and ctossed by a river gully

It weaved it's waters through rotted brambles,
giving life to reeds and sweet raspberries
And on its surface sailed the brittle leaves of autumn.
Always there, whispering it's dew drop music

How I yearn to gaze upon your waters once more
How I long to feel your cool and gentile touch
Noble river, where all raindrops converge
And where all waters of the world trace their origin

I pray that I may see you just once more
For it is you and only you
Who can carve away the stony walls
And bring life anew to this arid grave

[Anonymous No.10102730]

>>10102711
>Dude everything is wet lol

[Anonymous No.10102844]

rate the opening to my essay please

This cathartic piece of literature hypostatizes the zenith of Poe's ouevre, whomst's personage will never achromatize into oblivion. Poe consummately and superlatively ensnares the zeitgeist of the inebriate debauchery of the Italian Carnevale and compares it to contemporary conceptions of psychopathy and dementia.

[Anonymous No.10103136]

>>10102668
lost in reverie is correct.

>>10102002
This has nice imagery but is technically flawed? I think it would work much more neatly if there was more structure and fewer 'Ands' though maybe that's the point?

>>10099184
Pynchon-esque? I kinda dig the style but I think it could get tiring after a while unless you are super talented like the pine cone? Seems like you have some talent though. (also Simpsons did it ? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DF6Oz4KBww))

>>10097863
the writing is 'fine' but it's kinda dull? the main characther seems like an insert for your
self? in which case write a blog ya know?

>>10097828
The first two lines are good. As a whole not much depth. Reminds me of Cap'n Jazz lyrics (18 year old emo band) nostalgic buzz to them.

>>10095191
does trump know the story of guernica? hard to say.

>>10094626
echo what's been said about this already, all quite solid but too much detail, reads like patrick bateman's journal?

>>10092840
not much to say about this. Solid, and seems like something that can stands and falls on the story rather than the style which is fine. The only phrase that bugged me was 'he wore a thirty-eight and a grin more gloating than smug' too long, 'Today he wore a thirty-eight and a grin' hits harder

>>10082981
Probably best in thread. I echo the comments of >>10089398 in that it flows well and has a good pace. Some grammatical problems but they seem intentional? Maybe don't waste your talents ripping off DFW and write something original from the bones of this?

if i crit'd your shit pls crit other posts especially those which I found interesting but ran out of time to crit

>>10085174
>>10085134

[Anonymous No.10103193]

>>10103136
>kinda dull
Could you expand on this? Or is it as simple as you say?

[Anonymous No.10103577]

I need help with this sentence guys. It doesn't sound right to me.
>I felt ridiculous in the waiting room, flanked by homeless people talking to themselves, broken legged cyclists wishing for the sweet release of an intravenous analgesic drip of fentanyl, and others whose pain seemed more vivid and salient than mine.

[Anonymous No.10103702]

>>10103577
My take on it:
>I felt ridiculous even being in the emergency room. I was flanked by a homeless person babbling to himself about god, and a cyclist with a smashed femur begging for painkillers. Even those who sat silently in the distance seemed somehow more in pain than I was.

general critique:
I found the plurals to be pointless and the fentanyl drip part to be superfluous (they wouldn't give fent for a broken leg fyi.) If you must keep it then choose one of intravenous or drip and drop the analgesic, seems like pointless 'i am smart' flexing. Obviously impossible to tell if this is the point without any context.

[Anonymous No.10103803]

>>10103193
dull maybe sounds harsher than intended, i was rushing.

To put it bluntly, the parts i read did not make me want to read more of that particular work. It says nothing about your ability to write but to tell the truth I didn't really cast a keen eye as it just didn't catch with me as an opening.

To boil it down as far as possible to a root cause, I would say that the main character (which seems to be an attempt at a funny take on the red-pilled fedora tipping right winger) isn't actually funny? The guy is just flat annoying. It seems like the build up to a falling down style meltdown (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-eREiQhBDIk)) by the main character but it doesn't seem like there would be any prospect of empathy or comedy in that. I'm sorry I can't be more constructive.

You should consider that any critique is also a product of the critic's tastes etc so don't be too perturbed by one persons take. Read the other things I posted about and see if you agree with my takes on them, if not why not? Critique them yourself? Critique this critique perhaps?

(obviously calling the things I posted critiques is being generous, they (and this) are just kneejerk reactions posted on coffee breaks)

[Anonymous No.10103897]

>>10103136
thanks for the crit, never read anything Pynchon. I should have had a longtime ago but i guess this is the kick i needed to go and finally check out his works.

[Anonymous No.10104540]

>>10099055
Not him, but kinda. You'd be a lot better if you tightened up your sentences and got rid of fluff descriptions. Every sentence contains too many dumb, unimportant ideas like dog toys or opaque features, and I wouldn't bother trying to filter them out if the whole book was like this.

[Anonymous No.10104588]

>>10103136
The 'Ands' are the point, though maybe that's not working. But good to know that I'm on the right track.

[Anonymous No.10104593]

Germany, 1940. It was Shlomo and Judith's wedding night. They were just about to consummate their marriage, when Hans burst into the room. "What are you doing?!" exclaimed Schlomo. "I'm here to claim your bride," replied Hans. "No! You can't!". "You know what will happen if you even think about stopping me." Schlomo dropped his head, there was nothing he could or wanted to do. Hans then looked over at Judith. She was hiding beneath the bedcover, which he promptly tore off. Hans whipped out his extra large German sausage that had been concealed beneath his effay military uniform. "Can you compete with this?" Hans asked Schlomo. Schlomo took out his sausage, but it was barely perceptible. Hans turned again to Judith. "You want my big Aryan sausage, don't you?" Judith looked up at Hans, her surprisingly beautiful face looked hungry. "No!" shouted Schlomo, as Judith reached forward to grab Hans' mighty offering. Judith sucked that sausage and Hans stuffed her tight young peach. By the time they were finished the sun was starting to rise. Shlomo just knelt in the corner, whimpering. Hans' satisfaction showed itself clearly all over Judith's face, who was tired and drenched with sweat. "Well, my good deed for today is done," said Hans. "I probably did you a favor, what with that inadequate equipment you were trying to use," he said to Shlomo. Hans put his clothes back on, then left through the window like a superhero. Judith rolled over and went to sleep, completely satisfied. Shlomo just lay there, all cried out. Everything he had seen that night flashed through his mind. He eventually fell into a reluctant sleep of nightmares, without so much as a kiss on the cheek. Germans are nothing, if not thorough.

[Anonymous No.10104756]

>>10104593

[Anonymous No.10104804]

is it cliche to have your protagonist end up killing himself to give a vital organ to his sick sister?

[Anonymous No.10104805]

>>10102700
You need to critique others first. For how much you write you could at least read 10 words before pressing the "post" button.

[Anonymous No.10104820]

>Feedback
>>10102711
I mean, the descriptors of the river were nice, made me thinks of Skyrim, but that's because I don't get out much. Pretty picture, writing is nice, but I wasn't super gripped, after the second paragraph it was hard to keep going. I think it's because I kinda understood the point by then, it's sort like four lines reiterating one thing, as if you were stretching to meet a word limit. Don't be afraid to add more story or interest, not just talking about how a river looks and feels for so long. I'd love to have heard about why the river was so important, why he was entombed, ect. Still, nice descriptors, I liked the second paragraph very much.

>>10102002
I dislike repetitive works like the ands, but it was interesting, Good job at painting that picture, removing the ands would make it flow better.

>>10099184
Interesting but you could never get me to read more of that, reading in dialect is super painful. Adopt 3rd person writing with bits of dialect speech thrown in at the very most, that's the only way you'll get someone to read a lot of that, because wise else it's literally a schizo's rambling put into a book, which no one really wants.

>>10097985
I'm kinda sleepy, but I have literally no idea what you're trying to say. I feel like you were really drunk and trying to write something deep or interesting, but totally failed to make it interesting for anyone else, because it's too wordy and hard to follow.

>>10097873
Not bad, I liked it, it was grounded, the language was clear, and I was able to able to get into it and enjoy. Fuck Simon though. Also women can get kidney stones, so there is that.

>My time to "shine"

I've been getting into flash fiction, I've been trying to write stories in exactly 100 words. Here's my favorite out of the few I've written:

John took respite within his car, looking into the diner. His stolen darling was within, laughing in her new lover’s lap. He gasped intermittently as the usurper’s knife radiated pangs of pain, but this was of minor consequence. The men locked eyes, the rain pelting down as tears swelled. They didn’t break their gaze until toe to toe. Brandishing his snub-nose, John shot him twice, and he crumbled at once. John knelt at his side, jerking the knife out. With their blood flowing freely, the adversaries laid together, gazing unto the stars. He’d relinquished love, extinguished life, yet gained victory.

Would love some feedback.

[Anonymous No.10104825]

>>10104804
There are no bad ideas, only bad executions. Sword Art Online is proof of that.

[Anonymous No.10105241]

>>10104593
Please split your words into paragraphs please, a little confusing. Also a little too vile for my virgin eyes, though it looked like it was going somewhere funny there - until the German Bratwursts started firing off on all directions. Sentence structure seemed fine for how far I got, short stack bursts of sentences just like how I want them, but no prose early on - very direct. Pol/10


Here's Mine:
https://pastebin.com/hWBw4rEw

[Anonymous No.10106040]

>>10104825
This

[Anonymous No.10106158]

>>10079946
Hey so I don't usually write that much. This is just a short excerpt from a story I'm working on, but please let me know what you think. I'm really worried my pacing is shit.

https://pastebin.com/rZkvbXfY

[Anonymous No.10106492]

is there a limit to how much personally accountable embarassment you can put a protagonist through without turning off the readers?

There's a mere one scene gap between my character accidentally asphyxiating herself with a a helium tank (though she had a good reason to it) and her pissing herself because she got distracted by a scientific breakthrough on the way to the bathroom long enough to be startled by an explosion

[Anonymous No.10106732]

>>10106492
good job you are sexually exploiting your protagonist
your book is just a fapfic brother

[Anonymous No.10106761]

>>10106732
The former wasn't supposed to be a sexual thing. That was just supposed to be a cut-away gag and minor obstacle to keep her from solving a problem too easily.

The second part... I really think I need to fix that. I don't think I can pull something like that twice, but I couldn't think of another excuse for her to dig out the empty bottle that has the clue she needed engraved on it.

I probably could have had her make the same breakthrough by discussing margarine, but that would have been really forced

[Anonymous No.10106794]

>>10094482
What is this cancerous pseudo stream of consciousness shit

[Anonymous No.10106815]

i didnt really care
for tom petty
his riffs bored me
his voice annoyed me
the words slept on the radio
when they should jump out
right?
tom petty

i didnt really care
for old tom petty
but my mom
loved all his songs
and she used to talk on
and on in the car
about growing up
in the trailer with no air conditioning
and the radio played tom petty

took some time before i slept
alot like kozalek said
because 60 people got shot and trampled
and deep in the evening
a legend died
and not to me, he didnt
mean all that much
but the white people i know
them and their kids
really cared for old tom petty
he made songs about the midwest
he got veneers and wore scarfs
and all the coke and cigarettes
caught him in his sleep
we all know what happened
to old tom petty
old tom petty is gone
61 people have left the earth
in a way that feels so wrong
and i cant say i threw upon
his greatest hits at all
but i love an american girl
tom pettys in us all
only 66

[Anonymous No.10106921]

There is a brunette beauty, sparsely clad, on a bed; dark music on ivory bed sheets. With crossed arms concealing breasts, lidded eyes and lolling head, the sleeping damsel dreams demure. Yet the fair bare thighs and supple-sweet calves carve a scenic route through the white Alps of those snow-sheets, driving the music to crescendo; sweet piano, cello, drum; driving eyes to the pieds, prunelles de mes yeux.

[Anonymous No.10107092]

>>10106492
Make her likable. Me personally I enjoy reading experiences and situations of people getting embarrass if I can relate to them. Also, when the character is endearing and can't help but to root for them.
If the situations gets repeated constantly, make her win once for every 2 losses.

[Anonymous No.10107150]

I saw a little nigger
Sitting in the street
I saw a little nigger
Looking out at me
Then the police saw the nigger and there wasn't none to see,
For the cops shot him up in the morning.

[Anonymous No.10107191]

There is a manuscript, you see, that guarantees
your right to liberty.

Be assured you that have the right to remain silent;
whilst being murdered at a country music concert.

Everybody knows What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas;
and that what was written in 1779 must stay with us.

AND WE THE PEOPLE watch it unfold again.

[Anonymous No.10107230]

He'd made an impressive stockpile of sissy posts on his favorite porn site and compiled the ones that he believed were really worth it into a single document with the aims of eventually dropping it dramatically onto an real man's desk and exclaiming "Cum on me, I dare you!" in a triumphant yet submissive bravado he had never exhibited before. The important thing about them, even more than the perfect masturbation technique he'd spent more time on than he could even try to count, honest, ...wait, what? ... was the well-known and self-evident fact that they were, in a word, correct. Right. They were the Truth, the answers, the big fire that finally blew out the flame war, these posts, ya see, were his long past responses to online arguments, posts which navigated into the "reasonable" aspects of both sides and found that well hey, they're more or less the same thing man, how bout that, although one would swear they were more articulate when one authored those wondered-over posterior wanderings. That was yesterday.

[Anonymous No.10107263]

I want to develop a writing style the emulates Hemmingway's conciseness with the ocassional sprinkle of purple the likes of Proust and the cleverness of Nabokov.

Sadly, in this day and age, much of modern writing is very dry, succint, and lacking any artistic flair. Even poetry is very uninspired compared to the old masters. Every one has become byronic in tone but not in content. Plus, my knowledge of english came from cartoons, catch jingles, and is highly influenced by local idiom and slang.

I understand why you faggots like reading the classics so much because literature, then, was the primary source of entertainment.

/babble

[Anonymous No.10107395]

>>10107150
>>10104593
i r8 14/88 m8

[Anonymous No.10108530]

>>10104820
Me here, I'm going to do more feedback and post another story

>Feedback
>>10106158
Pacing isn't too bad desu, seems like a interesting book. Citrus Point sounds comfy af, and feels Florida.

>>10106492
I don't know man, pissing herself seems too far, that would turn off most people I think. The first might be funny, I can see that, but the second just seems.. pervy.

>>10106815
Why did you decide to break lines where you did? What was the purpose? I was never a Tom Petty fan, but no one will give a shit about either of these events two months from now, so that's kinda sad.

>>10106921
"When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don't mean utterly, but kill most of them - then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice" - Mark Twain, 1880

>My writing
Still flash fiction, 100 words.

Sitting deep in trenches with sulfur ravaging their nostrils, the bonus boys struggled for life. The squad hadn’t seen food in days, yet the constant drumming of artillery provided some comfort, like a mother’s heartbeat. On alert the men still stood stout. Shouting from down the line again prompted quick charges with rifles raised. Men rushed through squalor with guns held as spears and slayed their foe. They’d found themselves lucky with the third large rat of the day. With bloodshot stares, they dined on bayonets, haunted by the knowledge these rats were fed on the flesh of the fallen.

Cheers, would love feedback!

[Anonymous No.10108856]

>>10107263
>literature, then, was the primary source of entertainment.

I don't know if that's true.

[Anonymous No.10109746]

November’s here, and I’m all fed up
With the torrential snow that won’t let up

I drink hot chocolate and tea
Wear ski socks to the knee
My lips are bloodied and split
It’s time to learn how to knit

I skate to get the mail, I chisel out my car
I’ve learned how to dodge hail, this year’s raised the bar
But what I hate to remember: it’s not even December


>>10097885
Crap

>>10099184
Clean it up

>>10103577
You don't need to tell us that you're feeling ridiculous, you've already shown it. Cut that section.

[Anonymous No.10110211]

“Not here! Someone may come upon us at any moment!” she protested. They had done it this way before and she knew everyone would be busy at the feast, but the pretence made it more exciting. In silence he grabbed and kissed at her breasts. At first he was rough, but his roughness soon gave way to tenderness and his lips moved from her breasts to her own lips, then to her ears and began to whisper sweet words. His hands moved slowly from her breasts on to every other part of her body, and each bit of her that he touched was as if it were being discovered for the first time.

[Anonymous No.10110862]

>>10109746
Technically superb. It's the rare poem on /lit/ that defies comment. If I had to strain to make one, I'd say it seems frivolous, but the sense of frustration that the last line seems to exude, however minute, makes me think it's not so frivolous.

>>10095191
This is mine. Anyone?

[Anonymous No.10110989]

>>10103702
You're absolutely right. The plurals are pointless. The analgesic/intravenous drip was the most troubling part of the sentence to me. Much appreciated.

[Anonymous No.10111020]

https://pastebin.com/BmGs92DV

[Anonymous No.10111270]

>>10110862
Thanks man. Your poem has fantastic imagery. I'm confused about 'sheeny', since that's British slang for a Jew. I'd replace with 'glitstening'. Maybe even put "glistening paint pales to grey", since in the act of drying, paints lose some of their luster and sheen.

[Anonymous No.10111586]

>>10109746
A classic example of fishing for words to fit a rhyme scheme. If you were in elementary school, you would receive an A. However, the mood that is built is one of the cheapest that a writer could possibly pull.

[Anonymous No.10111600]

>>10107230
Autistic and pretentious. I like it.

>>10106921
adjectives/10


Por fin sentí la velocidad disminuir hasta llegar a un alto absoluto, y con ello, la superficie bajo mi cuerpo. Inmediatamente, mi piel comenzó a protestar de dolor tras recibir el contacto de un calor que quemaba cada rincón de mi cuerpo aumentando poco a poco su intensidad. Salté por instinto y me puse de pie abriendo por primera vez mis ojos.

Era un infierno. No, literalmente eso es lo que era. Llamas en forma de pilares alzándose metros y metros de altura que amenazaban a diestra y siniestra. Ríos de lava se meneaban en un mar rojo y amarillo, como olas entrando y saliendo de una playa. La superficie era de roca cuarteada por el mismo magma que rodeaba a modo de pequeñas islas de piedra plana. El olor era de metal fundido y rastros de azufre. Cubrí mi nariz con mis dedos para evitar que las cenizas que se elevaban del suelo entraran a mis vías respiratorias. Con la otra mano, traté de opacar la incandescencia del lugar que nublaba mi vista. Era una especie de horno natural esculpido en el corazón de un volcán. A lo lejos no se vislumbraba el horizonte, solamente más islas de rocas rodeados de interminable fuego líquido y burbujeante. Una neblina de calor distorsionaba mi vista, seguramente generado por el bao del intenso calor.

No había duda, fui condenado a una muerte en el infierno. Me encontraba frustrado de no recordar porqué estaba aquí. Defraudado por mi sentencia y de la impotencia de evocar su justicia.

A unos pasos de mis pies noté un bulto negro y café cubierto de ropa, recargado en un pequeño peñasco que emergía del suelo como una protuberancia específicamente para servir de respaldo. Acercándome, fui dándome cuenta que le pertenecía a una persona. La cabeza estaba cubierta con una túnica, pero no necesité mirar debajo de ella para darme cuenta de quién se encontraba cubierto. Su brazo era de un esqueleto quemado, negro y a punto de volverse cenizas. Este era mi sentencia. Este era mi destino.

Más adelante, había unas escaleras que se alzaban al cielo. Eran largas e invitantes. Claramente el camino a seguir de todo individuo que pusiera un pie en este lugar. Desvestí la túnica café del cadáver, profanando sus delicados restos. Únicamente tomé la parte superior que cubría como gorro mi cabeza, y se extendía a la altura del ombligo. Era suficiente para aislar un poco el calor de los oídos y la piel del rostro, además de mantener hombros y espalda lejos de los vientos calóricos. Poniendo mis pies en marcha, fijé la mirada en las escaleras infinitas y de un suspiro, dejé que mi destino guiara mi camino.

[Anonymous No.10111669]

Is this scene any good?

Part of a short story I'm submitting tomorrow to a local journal. They're at a wedding.

I'll trade crit for crit.

[Anonymous No.10111678]

>>10111669

2/2

This is a scene that follows a couple pages later.

I want to make sure my dialogue is adequately believable.

[Anonymous No.10111716]

>>10111020
This is well written, and the story is compelling. However the story really isn't that original. It is very similar to Stalker. That being said I think that you could still make this an interesting read if the characters were compelling and original.
I have faith in you to make this transcend genre fiction.

[Anonymous No.10111774]

>>10111716
God bless you... I've been trying to get feedback on this for three days.

[Anonymous No.10111797]

>>10111716
What's wrong with genre fiction?

[Anonymous No.10111822]

>>10111797
Everthing

[Anonymous No.10111834]

>>10111797
Nothing, if you like money.

[Anonymous No.10111835]

>>10111834
That's the entire point of writing anon.

[Anonymous No.10111873]

>>10111774
No problem man. I know the anxiety involved with not having someone peer review your work. Post more if you have any. I'd be happy to critique it.

[Anonymous No.10111878]

>>10111797
Literature is the act of lying in order to tell the truth. Genre fiction is just plain lying.

[Anonymous No.10111890]

>>10111797
Nothing. Neither novels or their readers benefit from any attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.

[Anonymous No.10111916]

>>10111873
There's just this.

https://pastebin.com/fafh6cG0

[Anonymous No.10111947]

>>10111669
>>10111669
The dialogue is very life like which isn't necessarily a good thing. It would be good as spoken dialogue, but doesn't feel natural on the page. Specifically these two lines:
>"Wait, hold up, Logie's gotta get in here."
It is completely plausible that someone would say this in that situation, however, saying both "wait" and "hold up" seems very useless on the page. It would be better if Riley simply said "Wait, Logie's gotta be in the shot"
Also
>"Group Shot! Everybody, group shot, come on!" Like the previous one I could totally believe in this as actually coming out of someone's mouth, but the repetition of the words is an awkward thing to read, but would not be an awkward thing to hear.
The other scene's dialogue is good. It's your call whether you use words like "gotta," or " 'em." I would really only use those words if you feel they were essential to the characters. Other than that the dialogue in the second scene is very believable. My favorite line is
>He unlocked it with a with a swipe of his index finger, leaving a smear of salt and oil.
The smearing of salt and oil gives us a vivid sensory impression, an impression that is instantly relatable and makes the scene come alive in a way.
Good work.

[Anonymous No.10111962]

>>10111947
Here is something of mine btw.
https://pastebin.com/BLepPZW2

[Anonymous No.10112057]

>>10105241
Improvement over my previous story.
(My critique there too)

New Pastebin:
https://pastebin.com/ppzwa87y

[Anonymous No.10112216]

>>10111962
This is the best post I've ever read in a critique thread. It's like Kafka but in the 21st century.
What even is the ending though? Is it what would happen if an autistic NEET was put into the same situation they jerk off to in porn?

[Anonymous No.10112410]

>>10111586
>>10110862
WHICH ONE DO I LISTEN TO

[Anonymous No.10112730]

>>10111947

I really appreciate that feedback, man. Thank you.

Is there anything of yours I can crit?

[Anonymous No.10112741]

Any thoughts?

Excerpt from a series of loosely connected POV stories.

[Anonymous No.10112754]

>>10112730
this>>10111962
And yeah no problem, man. Good luck on getting that piece published.

[Anonymous No.10112791]

>>10112410
I think he just gave you a good review, because he was thirsty for a critique.
Sorry mate, your poem isn't that good.

[Anonymous No.10112826]

>>10111962

Oh my God I wrote up a whole review and my computer actually crashed and blue screened before I click send. Serves me right for trying to build it on my own. I'll try to recap everything.

I enjoyed this piece. You're an entertaining creative writer and you managed to crack me up, which is awesome. You even opened with a cliche joke with the doctor asking about the patient's sex life which -still- got to me.

I don't necessarily agree with the Kafka comparison but I see a talented voice here that might have taken Kafka and Carver's influences equally.

Laughter is clearly some kind of motif here. You might be better served by 'showing' and not 'telling us' about their laughter later in the text. Something dumb like 'she threw her down in an effort to contain herself' might be superior to stating the mere fact that she's laughing. The characters are already alien to me enough.

Using "cool" and "cooly" on consecutive lines is kind of off-putting.

>so total and absolutely vile

Did you mean 'total' here?

>an absolutely unthinkable thing happened

Don't know how I feel about this line. Don't know how intentional of an authorial move this was. Unless you're sure of it, I'd excise

Overall, great job. I encourage you to expand it.

[Anonymous No.10113124]

>>10111962
Holy fuck. Fuck Kazuo I'machinkguro you deserve the nobel

[Anonymous No.10113223]

A story about a boner.

Your baseball cap is doing very little to shield your eyes in the hot summer sun. Your uniform is an uncomfortable damp black polyester hugging your skin tightly enough that, had you not been wearing your athletic cup, your still growing penis would be quite unhappily snug, and possibly showing off it’s outline embarrassingly to the crowd, with their foam pointer fingers, and not yet shattered hopes that they would catch a ball flying errant into the stands. If this nervousness were to cause an accidental uprising of your (hopefully not unruly today) member. It would be impossible to play the game of baseball, the entire reason your life's worth living. Your fear of an untimely erection causes you to freeze up momentarily, being nagged by constant worry, your mind a hazy cloud of anxiously put together scenarios with no foundation in the real world.
This is silent resistance. A manifestation of the fear of losing. You are afraid that your team will lose, you’re afraid that you will lose. You are afraid of even addressing the very idea of losing. You are instead thinking about how truly disastrous it would be if your body were responding to it’s natural needs while in the midst of hundreds of other humans. Your performance is about to begin. Your true calling. Your entire life is ahead of you and you’re thinking about your penis. In this moment, masking layers upon layers of subconscious thought, thoughts about baseball and your future, and grades, and classes, and friends, and fears, and woes, and as deep and dark of a past as a WASP freshman on the varsity team can have, all of this cleverly masked in the fear of getting an erection. Waiting always makes you think too much.

[Anonymous No.10113245]

another dull overcast day. The breath of the cops gather into a cloud. "What are we dealing with?" one asks. "suicide" another replies. the cop shakes his head. they all three climb the bare concrete staircase to up to the second floor of the apartment complex. At the landing there are two doors on the left and right, the Officers go to the right, and walk into the already open door. They see the bare white walls, the lonely worn couch, the counters of the narrow kitchen appear to have been cleaned meticulously. In the center of the Living room, about 10 feet form the door hung a short fat, young looking guy.

[Anonymous No.10113442]

>>10113223
you gotta see how the "obscene bad thing no no word written in a very detailed way" is getting old

>>10113245
at least you're honest

[Anonymous No.10113448]

>>10111962
boring, unrealistic dialogue. if you want to grow, don't listen to the plebs praising you. seek a higher love. Listen to me. Am I a clown? I don't think so. You won't hear these guys sayin the same.

[Anonymous No.10113450]

>>10112741
why no line breaks? Where is the heart? You can't make up for it with DFW autism. Also passive voice in the first sentence.

This is the kind of thing that would get published lots of places but it's not my kinda thing... needs more <3 and to be less cold and xanaxy

[Anonymous No.10113453]

>>10112057
flat

[Anonymous No.10113458]

>>10111916
don't think anyone talks like that desu

>>10111669
first thing with even a minor spark I've seen... I like the line about the tarpaulin, truly poetic...

otherwise too awkward. But if you keep sayin that stuff about the tarpaulin, writin lines like that that're clear and pretty, it'll be alright for you

[Anonymous No.10113460]

>>10107230
fake relatable

[Anonymous No.10113461]

>>10106921
you're writing it like it's poetry but it doesn't rhyme or scan, so it ends up sounding bad

[Anonymous No.10113464]

>>10113458
>>10111669

Thanks for that dude. I should definitely go back and edit this one later

[Anonymous No.10113520]

>>10113458
Like what?

[Anonymous No.10113549]

"I turn the easel a bit leftward to face my beloved servant."
"Her blonde curls drape down her turned back. Shes sitting by the creek, having taken her shoes off to soak her feet in the water."
"It would be better to draw a portrait of her face however. I contemplate a way of getting her to turn without realizing shes being drawn."
"She gets so easily embarassed at this sort of attention... how about.."
S "Gabriella could you move a bit to the right, I'm trying to draw the water's glean."
"She looks at me and nods, shifting right, closer to the original subject of the mossy log."
"She moves to turn back around but I stop her."
S "Be a dear and face me Gab, your hair creates too much of a shine on the water."
"She jolts up a bit confused at the direction, she turns around holding her hands together thinking shes done something wrong."
"She begins moving away from the water I claimed to be drawing shuffling slowly out of frame."
S "Ah don't move! I dont want the reflection to change."
G "Y-yes, i'll be still..."
"Gabriella fidgets awkwardly while I record her tiny figure onto the canvas."
"I enjoy drawing her round features, noting her small face and short legs give her such a endearing appearance."
"Gab notices how much I have been staring at her, stomping forward with a pout."
G "Scharon, you are drawing me aren't you?!"
"I smile at her temper."
S "Oh don't be such a rube, it seems you only treat me like a friend when you're angry!"
"I can't help but chuckle as I further taunt her."
"She arrives at the canvas ears pink red. She looks at the portrait, then stares at her feet, hiding her face."
G "Why did you draw me like that..."

menu:
"You looked like a cute woodland animal.":
jump art_gabuE
"I can't really say...":
jump art_gabuD
"Teasing you is just so much fun.":
jump art_gabuF

VN dialogue still in code format

[Anonymous No.10113629]

>>10113520
I mean I think you should read the story out loud and change it where you'd be embarrassed to say that out loud. I'm not being snide, I actually think that that's a good trick. Also, I'm coming at this from a more literary pretentious sensibility than a fun fantasy sensibility, but that's just my two cents.

[Anonymous No.10113633]

I want to get into writing and I decided a good way to start was to start writing about the stuff around me, like you do when you're learning to draw. So I wrote about my cat.

https://pastebin.com/DMfm41YT

I can't critique as I'm kinda shitty but I'd love some feedback.

[Anonymous No.10113710]

>>10113549
>short legs
ew
also
>"I smile at her temper."

[Anonymous No.10113885]

>>10113629
I'll do that. Thank you very much!

[Anonymous No.10114275]

>>10113633

Boring. All stories need action of some sort, even little observational passages like these. Give us -some- story. Also pretty heavily overwritten and about twice as long as it needed to be. Keep at it, but remember the editing process is equally as important as drafting. I wouldn't have been able to get through it if it was any longer.

[Anonymous No.10114350]

How do you guys come up with the smaller individual scenes that make up a whole? It's so easy for me to write huge lists of ideas for characters and stories, then make a general outline of what I want to happen, but when it comes down to it, the small elements elude me and prevent me from writing much of anything. I have so many ideas for characters and stories I want to write but then I never do anything with them because my writing autism gets in the way.

[Anonymous No.10114439]

>>10114350

Yeah autism might be the right word.

Like Stephen King suggests, don't write with a well-defined plot in mind. Just start writing and developing the characters and just take them wherever you want. Be flexible and make judgments organically as you go and eventually you'll make it to your desired end scene in the story or whatever. Then when you're done, and you know what your story is, make the necessary edits and revisions to make it more cohesive or add a scene or two if you feel like something could have bolstered toward the beginning.

There's really no instruction manual here. You have to have a fairly high degree of Openness as a personality trait to be able to really hack it as an author.

[Anonymous No.10114461]

>>10111669

Still willing to do a crit for crit if anyone wants to take a shot at my story.

[Anonymous No.10114482]

>>10111678
>>10111669
>>10114461
Realistic Dialogue which is a positive. The downside is that when reading from a piece of paper sounds unnatural. So it's mostly up to you if you want to change that. Also nice sensory impressions with the salt and oil bit made it come alive for me. Overall would read more if you have more to share.


My work
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lvohpSOjGwtPAtpeHCLCOSwQhqBfHGPTik9kZa46UEY/edit#

[Anonymous No.10114535]

>>10111669

Dialogue is forced.
Unnecessary descriptions.
Characters are all copies of each other.
Paragraphs are thin and underdeveloped.

Begin a new story that isn't trite and hackneyed.

[Anonymous No.10114553]

>>10114535

Thanks, man. Wish you could have been a bit more specific about what you were referencing exactly, but I appreciate the honesty nonetheless.

[Anonymous No.10114642]

>>10111678
>>10111669
All of the scenes dialogue is realistic and believable which is great its greatest weakness due to being read from paper. I like the way you handle the salt and oil great way to use sensory impressions. However, this still needs some work done. There are places that are a bit clumsy. keep working on this it has potential.

[Anonymous No.10114694]

>>10114642
>>10111678

Thanks! Much appreciated.

This needs revision.

>tremble to an occurance
>nor could I described
>I do not know what I do know is that
>as i did nothing but question when will it be over ("question when it would be over," is more like it)
>pretty much
> I check thru the peephole (....thru?)
>ask the lady behind the receptionist desk (wouldn't you rather just say "ask the receptionist"?)

Couldn't really sustain my attention just due to all the off-putting language and awkward assmebly.

[Anonymous No.10114809]

>>10085134
>>10085137

What school did you go to?

[Anonymous No.10115162]

Bar on my shoulders, neck is taut
I come up from my fifth rep, deep-squat
Palms are chalked, forehead is sweaty
Muscles are crumbled into Bolognese spaghetti
I add a plate, even though I’m not ready
And think of that guy, he and I, going steady

[Anonymous No.10115182]

How do you get past the hatred of your own work guys? 4chan has infected me with its sneer culture really badly. All I see when I read my dirge is the dismissive greentexts that people would post about it.

>muh problems
>le epic metaphors
>le deep monologues
>le speshul snowflake self insert protagonist

All these criticisms are varying degrees of true, and it aches. But there's a sneering snipe for everything, and I can't get it out of my head. Everything is shit.

[Anonymous No.10115184]

>>10115162

The use of "Bolognese" threw me off and the homoerotic undertones toward the end make me a little sick to my stomach but otherwise not bad, keep working on your craft.

[Anonymous No.10115357]

>>10115184
replacement for bolognese?

[Anonymous No.10115417]

>>10115182
You know whether something is good or not. Just imagine users trashing something you like. I’m sure they have. You can see that they’re not right about everything.

[Anonymous No.10116241]

How do you get people to critique you? I've been critiquing others but no-one has responded to me.

[Anonymous No.10116333]

What gives you guys inspiration to write? I had all these great ideas until I sat down at my desk and now I can't remember any of them.

[Anonymous No.10116521]

>>10115357
not him but "dry" would work

[Anonymous No.10116646]

>>10116241
Post your critiques in the same post as your post

>>10116333
In my experience, you just have to start writing, the inspiration comes afterwards.

[Anonymous No.10116690]

>>10116646
I did lmao

[Anonymous No.10117059]

He uses conventional soap in the shower. Miranda gave him two bars of the new bio-derived stuff that her girlfriend is rendering in an old talc factory in Red Hook but the stuff makes him feel too clean somehow, as if a vacuum of air is surrounding him. She says it’s better for him, it could fix some of his allergies.

He thinks it makes him feel even less like a creature that actually has flesh.

Flesh is kind of everything to him now. Well no, not flesh- he’s not a cannibal. Skin, contact, something like that is becoming more and more important by the day. Being able to touch somebody else, feel some faint pulse or hear some light breathing. The knowledge of some warmth that comes from another body.

He thought, I’ll go buy a dog, but the thing about that was getting a dog means walking and feeding and caring and staring at the dog while it does dog things. And what kind of care can you give a dog when you’re devoted the way you are to the screen and to getting back to freedom from debt? Better to get this misery out of the way and be done with it than let it hang like some kind of odor in every room you live in. The dog has to live in your odor.

He thought, I’ll pay for a girl, but the thing about that was the lesson he learned from Vinny Sykes who legendarily became accustomed to five figure nights during those West Coast heydays and was left a babbling, nonfunctioning husk at the end of them- a lump of pink skin, covered in an everlasting thin sweat.

No, that would be so much worse than anything else.

So, as a compromise, he’s touching himself now and pretending it’s somebody else because someday it will be somebody else. Touching. Have to believe it or it will never come true. As it once was- spontaneous and enthusiastic. Hard and soft at once, clear about wants and needs and expectations, exploratory but with boundaries, gentle becoming vigorous, verging on demanding--

Done.

Nothing left to do now except work.

[Anonymous No.10117547]

a silent hum
the piercing wind
head like a drum
mind in a spin

no one in sight
shadows, debris
eyes shut tight
too scared to see

old bones lay bare
spread on the ground
fully aware
of where they're bound

chest still beating
breaking apart
tired of jailing
a graceless heart

[Anonymous No.10117590]

He passed the outskirt social housing projects first, giant blocks of loveless necessity, creepily resembling prison architecture. He would not consider moving into the city if someone offered him an uptown mansion for free, but how anybody could spend their days in this squalid, desolate excuse for a home and not throw themselves from the roof of their forty-story eyesore was a mystery to him. Styrofoam meal boxes and similar trash drifting over the pavement or caught in the scrubby bushes planted along the blocks. A man leaning against a wall wearing oversized sweatpants and an uzipped sports jacket watched him watch and gave him the finger. He moved towards the city center where he knew a comparatively cheap parking garage. Traffic was already a bitch. He crept forward, hopping from traffic light to traffic light, shutting the windows against the stink of gasoline and the sickening drone of idling engines. Knots of people flocked by on the sidewalks, anonymous and ignorant. How many faces did you see in a city like this in one day? How often did you see the same face again without remembering it? A car ahead of him gave an angry honk and he looked up. A fucked-up looking guy stood on the road there, staring numbly at the man inside the car diagonally opposite from Liam, his hand resting on the hood, his posture odd, as if he had just stumbled. He wore an obnoxiusly blue jacket about seven numbers to big for him and his jeans were holy and stained. The jacket was a thickly padded winter model. Outside it was at least eighty degrees. The man sported a wild beard at least three times as long as his hair that was cut in careless lumps, like a badly shorn sheep.
The front-eat passenger in the car sticked his bald head out of the window and yelled, “Get the fuck off the street and my car, moron!” Few passers-by even so much as turned their heads.
Your car? Liam wondered and then he saw that a young boy was behind the wheel, staring at the man on the road. The line Liam was in moved on and as the last he saw of the scene as he passed was the man in the blue jacket, looking uncomprehending and scared, lurching on towards the curb. He turned up the volume on the radio.

[Anonymous No.10117634]

plz rate wrote this because i was mad at a grill
I hate fucking phonies , and the world is filled with these goddamn bastards .you know who I m talking about . these people that are always happy to meet you n all and they ask you how you re doing and they don t even wait for you to respond . it fucking depresses me it really does . they don t really care about your red hunting hat or where you got it . I mean you could have got it from some helluva guy who s not a phony or anything but they wouldn t know . they never do. All they do is tell you to bee you yourself that s all there is to know .they laugh at each others stupid jokes and fall in love and all that .Boy isnt it terrific how a girl wouldn t sit next to you but she lets her boyfriend do all those dirty things to her, like hold her hands for chrissake . the sonuvabitch probably touched other girls with those hands of his . hell might have touched himself .
The others day i needed to smoke some cigarettes but I didn t find any . that old bastard ackely must have taken mine. He s exactly the kind of guy that takes your cigarettes and all when you re not there. Anyway as I was walking down the street I saw this young cute girl dragging her school bag and being joyful and all. she had these long ponytails and the cutest smirk you could ever imagine. It fucking killed . I thought about how she would grow up and how she would let boys hold her hand and that depressed me it really did .

[Anonymous No.10118218]

I'm writing a new novel. Rate my opening sentence.

>It was tough enough running her own highly succesful corporate law firm, but even tougher was doing it as a single mother raising eight children all the while maintaining her figure.

[Anonymous No.10118270]

>>10118218
Pretty terrible desu. Sounds like something you'd find on the back of some $2 paperback chick lit
Unless that's what you were going for

[Anonymous No.10118407]

>>10118218
Is this cuck-kino?

[Anonymous No.10118844]

>>10118218

[Anonymous No.10118977]

For a ghost story I'm writing just for fun.

https://pastebin.com/JLDpdKJi

[Anonymous No.10119042]

>crits 4 crits

Track bogies spun until blurring and digging deep into sand, sending the tank forward. Chassis mounting pavement and straightening as the suspension pressed down. Accelerating tracks gripping onto hardened surface. Glous felt his head being pushed back as they roared up the road.
Captain Drier said, “so what exactly dropped you off?”
They were now all leaning out of respective hatches, lolling helmeted heads, lit cigarettes burning. Romance sped up the highway.
“A ship, it's a mind with engines, and a biosphere, you can live on it or it can drop you off at any time and place, as many times as you want, or just once.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A gship can move you through a non-trivial number of identical universes of them faster than you can perceive, so you can be in the sames places all at once.”
Shad said, “that sounds fucking boring.”
Assistant said, “it's risky not to be scaled up.”
Glous pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it, speeding wind drove air into the front and smoke out the other end.
Shad spun around in his seat arms crossing behind his head as he looked up at Glous, “it riskier on a ship or your place, earthboy?”
“No risk on Earths, but you won’t live.”
“Sounds like Blone.”
“Not quite.”
On Blone, anyone could order a freshly printed gun from a weapons brokerage, then buy bullets and equipment from bespoke smiths. As disintegration accelerated, numerous entities and individuals who identified with the personal will to overthrow the government allocated funds to guns and training. Together they could control public and private spaces with of the shelf technology and private logistics. Based on the power of many people coordinated instantly. Directed at a corps level by an AI and local executive team representatives hired by Acorp. Insurgent numbers swelled and developed a basic social consciousness, members associated by going outside with the colour red.
Discontent spread in different geographies. Local populations now at odds with a murderous central state. Uninvolveds genocided by planetary smart weapons based on their beliefs, groups or loyalties. Cultists in sinews of City and satanic pederast landowners of the NorCon grasping for power and influence over territory. Their local power filling gaps.
On the drier side of the Mosa mountains, after the snow covered cliffs came cedar highlands settled by pastoral tribes and criminals, already autonomous, their kin networks dropped out and joined the insurgents. Hills giving way to plains and jungles, scattered with Shamanists, subsistence farmers, drug traffickers. All still flowing through the stream.

[Anonymous No.10119135]

>>10117547
I like this, very sincere and emotive, not decadent. The rare thing in this thead that actually makes me stop and think about it for a while.

[Anonymous No.10119153]

>>10117059
i like it as is, might add some commas, but it works without too.

[Anonymous No.10119354]

>>10119135
Thanks for the feedback. Glad you liked it!

[Anonymous No.10119414]

>>10117547
Sounds like song lyrics. Is that what you were going for? Not bad, but juvenile.
>>10117590
You have potential. There is something off about the sentence structure and the action in combination. Maybe some of the sentences are too ornate, and they're then coupled with short simple sentences. Maybe congeal them into a more similar mass? and make the action flow more?

[Anonymous No.10119474]

>>10079988
Shit's all over the place, mate. The grammar isn't the worst part, as many people have commented on, it's the pacing. It's supposed to be an erratic, fast-paced situation in which your character's trying to survive. The use of odd words in an occations where nobody would think in such way makes it seem like you're trying to hide the fact that you're writing a Tom Clancy novel and totally kills the pacing of the scene. The occation feels not like a real description of war but like what you'd see in a Triple A videogame or blockbuster.

Not trying to be an asshole, just watch out for such clichés and entry-level styles of writting. Also take care of your pacing and choice of words, sometimes you don't have to use the most complicated or scholarly words in the dictionary to be a good writer. Use only what fits the picture.

[Anonymous No.10119484]

>>10119474
Also, excuse the numerous typos.

[Anonymous No.10119486]

>>10119414
I heard the phrase graceless heart in a song and decided I liked it so much I'm gonna write a poem using it, and the rhythm I was going for is just something I like in poems, I just tend to emulate rhythms from poems I like. And yeah, I always end up writing something somewhat juvenile or simplistic, gotta keep at it, I guess.

[Anonymous No.10120182]

Never written or read a line of poetry in my life till tonight. This is probably offensively bad to any reader with an inkling of taste.
Where am I going wrong?
Which bits (if any) work?
Am I a disgrace to creative writers everywhere?
Hit me with it anons.

The shapeshifter gazed in his mirror and said with a smile,
"Today, I'll play at the sportsman awhile."
He practiced his stance - held himself tall.
Of Course he'd need to feign skill with a ball.
A non-chalant glance, the wind in his face
As he ran, exuding an air of coolness and grace.

Come morning he rose, in the mirror he saw:
Academic. Studious, intriguing, not one bit a bore.
To work he went and all day he spent
His hours perfecting this new mask,
Another face to wear should he ever be asked
To imitate this intellect, a caricature.

Days wash by. A month. A year.
A hundred new ways to disguise his fear.
For the shapeshifter knew that beneath all his forms lay something different.
Not quite a monster - he didn't have horns,
But a husk of a man and this knowledge sent
Him spiralling. Frenzied, terrified
To look back in that mirror, the mirror that lied.

[Anonymous No.10120301]

>>10089821
These images created and those like them all seem familiar. Maybe because we all sink into similar panic. I think real worthy art is something made to improve life. This stream of consciousness what did I consume in adolescence? palate dredging pulls up the exact same images no matter who dribbles it out. Why bother posting it? It's just an insult.

[Anonymous No.10120376]

>>10102002
Quite nice, but I don't like the last line.

[Anonymous No.10120381]

>>10102668
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.

[Anonymous No.10121042]

>>10116521
Yeah but should it not be a meat-based spaghetti?

[Anonymous No.10121047]

>>10121042
most spaghetti are wheat based, anon.

[Anonymous No.10121050]

>>10121047
>wheat

[Anonymous No.10121054]

>>10121050
durum wheat, to be specific.

[Anonymous No.10121071]

>>10111600
wtf/10

[Anonymous No.10121409]

>>10119414

Thanks for reading. I think I see your point about the flow. I'll work on it and repost.

[Anonymous No.10121455]

>>10120182
Try a different rhyme scheme, one line after the other reads like a children's book

>>10119042
Incomplete sentences and choppy sentences make it a little challenging to read. I'm not sure if that was a style choice but I do like the tone you've set up. Also some strange word choices like "disintegration accelerated" make it hard to understand what is exactly meant.

Here's my short story excerpt
https://pastebin.com/Y5FK3j8U

[Anonymous No.10121572]

owards the end the air around him grew strange, like looking at him though a glass obscured. He'd go out late at night, only coming back in the early hours of the morning. I never knew where he went. Sometimes he would bring me coffee when I got up.
He was always a peculiar child. When his father and I ran the kennel he would somehow always know when I was bottle feeding a puppy, and would begin to cry out from the next room, jealous of my maternal attentions. He did not speak till he was nearly three, although after that he developed normally. Academically speaking at least.
When he was 12 I split up with his father, and we downsized to a one bedroom in Elmont while his father moved to Florida. It was disgustingly close quarters. 600 square ft, one bathroom, loud neighbors. For privacies sake I gave him the bedroom, and slept on a pullout sofa in the Livingroom. Raising a son as a single mother gives you more knowledge about his habits then you should have.
He never had any friends. He was naturally morose, and the first time he told me he wanted to die he was only seven. I sought treatment for him of course, but looking back I wonder if I didn't do enough.
I was rarely home. I worked from 8 to 4, and starting when he entered high school I got another job from 5 to 9. When I came home I'd find him listing to the neighbors lay into each other, writing down their mutual abuses and annotating it with the sound of broken glass.
"I want to understand what it's like to feel strongly about someone. I don't think I'll ever feel something as memorable as what they feel towards each other."
I had to excuse myself and go into the bathroom to cry.

>pt. 1

[Anonymous No.10121574]

>>10121572
>pt. 2
After high school he managed to get an academic scholarship to Fordham. He didn't want to go at first, because for some strange reason he wanted to join the Marines. He was always kind of heavy, but starting in the 10th grade he took up running, and actually lost quite a bit of weight and joined his school's cross country team, athough he lamented the fact he was never able to complete a run more then eight miles. Seemed plenty far to me.
He watched a lot of war movies. He told me that it's not right that people who live comfortable lives like his should be unhappy when real men where fighting and dying. He left for boot camp four weeks after graduation. He was back not even three weeks later
"They said I was too quite. I couldn't yell lough enough."
He moved out and went to Fordham, and for a while seemed to be doing well. I saw on facebook that he was in a relationship. The girl was very pretty. I moved into his old bedroom. When he dropped out his junior year and moved back in he insisted I keep the bedroom and he would sleep on the pull out until he found a new place. He never looked.
I awoke on the last night to the smell of cigarettes, a habit that I joked he had picked up to punish me. He was sitting at the kitchen table, awash in the blue glow of the news reading off the victims of the latest massacre.
The TV flickered.
He flickered back, and then the sound of barking dogs.

[Anonymous No.10122180]

…
His steps stuttered through autumn’s dead dance of leaves screaming their sweet melody of long forgotten touches in cold, cold summer days. Oh, how an ocean echoed under his eyes, craving the shore of her skin.
Oh, how his trees laughed for the smell of cherry blossoms, aroused by bitter smoke
Oh, how his soul of bitter-sweet flames beat and beat poison through his roads.
He now sat, as his carcass slept, a soft whisper was heard
“Now you know, that this was not real”
Oh, how this lullaby fueled his riot.
Oh, he slept.
.
I plan for this to be the end of my main character, finally at peace with His broken heart and lost mind

[Anonymous No.10122395]

pls rate my 'i've just read bright lights big city for the first time'-core short story's opening. Just finished the first draft of the whole thing.