Critique Thread

[Anonymous No.11962073]

Can somebody provide me with helpful critique on my recent work. Also General critique thread
Chapter 1
“Come on do it.”
“No man I’ll get in trouble, and keep your voice down!”
“You know Karishma’s right you have no balls.”
“Wait did she actually say that?”
Raghu looked at Yash and shrugged. Yash looked at his target a Miss Urmila was hard to miss by anyone, what is it about middle-aged people that makes them so fat. Yash could feel the warmth of rubber in his hand as he stood up and saw all the students a couple of them were actually writing the rest were just chatting about and keeping their heads low. Atleast no one will be able to see me doing this he thought as he clumsily threw the rubber as if a little girl was pushing a ball, expectedly the piece of rubber didn’t go far enough and landed in somebody’s bag in the second row. ”OH man you’re so stupid!” cried Raghu, Yash was kinda happy it he didn’t hit the teacher. “Now see how it’s done.” said Raghu grinning as he tore another small piece of rubber so confident was Raghu that he stood up and pulled his arm back before he realized Miss Urmila was staring right at him. “Yes Raghu.” “Is there a problem with your arm or do you have a question?” Yash wondered where all of Raghu’s bravado went when he answered “I have a question Miss.”
“What is it?” In the shock of it all Raghu had forgotten to put his arm back down as his mind scrambled to find a question, After all to have a question he should know what the subject was. “What was that last line you wrote Ma’am?” “Sit down Raghu I’m sure you don’t have an eye sight problem.” “Yes Ma’am.” Yash had the biggest smirk on his face as Raghu sat down and thre the piece of rubber on the ground “What were Karishma’s view on your balls Raghu, Whatever it was they must have changed after this display of your balls.” Raghu did not answer but just glared at his bench mate.

[Anonymous No.11962084]

>>11962073
your grammar is shocking, first of all.
Second, that doesn't matter because the writing is also shocking.

[Anonymous No.11962307]

>>11962073
Why would Augustus be tagged with Long Livr Europa

Augustus would have no idea what Europa meant. He would say long live Rome, which at his time included Syria, Egypt, Mesopotamia, modern turkey, Carthage, etc.

[Anonymous No.11962310]

>>11962073
/gd/ reporting in.

The pic you just posted gave me eye cancer, and I refuse to read anything by someone who used it.

[Anonymous No.11962331]

>>11962073
pretty bad. you have no sense of rhythm when describing, your text just looks like random images place together almost arbitrarily
>Atleast no one will be able to see me doing this he thought as he clumsily threw the rubber as if a little girl was pushing a ball, expectedly the piece of rubber didn’t go far enough and landed in somebody’s bag in the second row
worst thing i've ever read. read joyce and poetry if you actually want to improve.

someone critique this poem i've been working on for 6 months:

What is that high sound in the air
in the morning
cracking
popping.
crack
pop
crack
pop
a river runs, flows into its eternal destination,
runs back in a circular shape
and ends downstream where it takes a turn
and goes up.
what is that sound in the air, you ask?
it's my erection, getting higher, loftier,
my dick elevating above it all.
windows break themselves.
clothes tear you apart.
yep, i've entered beast mode
nope, there is no escape.

[Anonymous No.11962334]

>>11962331
Nothing rhymes and your prose are shit.

[Anonymous No.11962340]

>>11962307
This whole aesthetic is extremely artificial and cringe.

[Anonymous No.11962352]

>>11962307
>Augustus would have no idea what Europa meant.
Yes he would. He would know that Europa was a maiden abducted and taken to Crete by Zeus while he was in the form of a bull

[Anonymous No.11962591]

Never in the life of Agamemnon
Had rivers ate their young
Now streets crash and burn
And those the great Gods
Who needed to eat their children
To sustain. Now heaven is upon us
And the skies draw signs.
Cursed is the house of Israel
Cursed is the house of Israel
Let the debts squander the
Livers of beasts, let the debts
Understand their wrongs set
Before truths unnerved,
Goodness reigns in the lust
Of man's self same self,
Need not we, he who once walked
Crumpled under foot paths,
That burden-weary men once stained
Let them see with eyes perversely
Enveloped with flesh supple
And supplicate me now

[Anonymous No.11963291]

Autumn sighs with auburn air
Crimson leaves drifting from here to there
On crisp winds brushing ancient stones
Our imagined hero forthright marched alone
Autumn has come at last, the fall of leaves and the fall of man
The work of sin lack work of hand
His breath seen but not heard
Cold blue skies without cloud or bird
With green ponderosa pines and red arbutus trunks
Passing time and past’s time sunk
Keep marching hero, there is evil yet to slay
A night’s battle lost ignored if we have won the day

Spirit swells like a noble sea
Oceanic valor tempts the fates to be
Cascadia is waiting with trembling pacific dreams
Cavalier mountains crying sapphire streams
Burgundy and red, yellow and gold
The ancient forests remain from myths of old

Steadfast imagined hero, feel and love the pain!
Our brave jade empire with has anointed us with rain

[Anonymous No.11964613]

https://pastebin.com/PscWdhwW

This is mine, a bit of a kind of rough draft. This is my first proper attempt at any form of writing so blunt criticism is wanted.

[Anonymous No.11964719]

Bump for everyone.

[Anonymous No.11964991]

>>11962352
Touché

[Anonymous No.11965081]

>>11962073
Other people have mostly critiqued your writing. Your content is also dull aswell perhaps choose something else to write about; Childrens perspective is usually dull in any work of fiction unless written by a talented writer.

[Anonymous No.11965150]

>>11962073
Someone critique the opening to my novella:

When James first saw Alexandra, he forgot about his illness and all his various debts. He halted there. His lips quivered. He mumbled to himself: a buh buh buh, like a drooling infant asking for something in its lazy language.

[Anonymous No.11965201]

>>11965150
Get rid of the onomatopoeia. Perhaps consider actually describing his emotions rather then just showing him acting retarded.

[Anonymous No.11965653]

Been working on this for a little while. I'm a fiction writer but get the poem bug sometimes. Tear my ass up.

[Anonymous No.11965693]

>>11962331
top kek

[Anonymous No.11965902]

>>11965150
I like it, esp the a buh buh buh in its lazy language. Lryical, and not too high toned.

[Anonymous No.11965930]

>>11964613
I really like this story. Piotr is a relatable character. I like that you make the characters act lively and joking in such a horrible circumstance. But this is your first time writing, and I can see that you have some issues with the flow of information and how you can present it in such a way as to make it seamless. I lost interest in the story several times. Nothing is direct action, and there are allusions and point of view introduced that were unnecessary, like the woman and boy in the opening scene.

[Anonymous No.11965939]

(all white and especially Jewish actors who audition should be politely shown the door)
Act One: Scene One
(The curtains open to a lavishly furnished hookah lounge. Background dancers should be sitting in complete stillness and darkness as the spotlight opens on the Punjabi Prince)
Mahir:This is the story of a boy’s journey into manhood in a patriarchal racist society. From Punjabi Prince to Punjabi King, I will always be and have always been a Muslim. And no, I did not fuck that goat.

Song One- “That Pussy is Halal”

Background chorus: He did not. *3/4th beat snaps for a bar* He did not fuck a Goat
Mahir: I’m the Ayatollah of Kush. Women want my baby. My cum only goes
Background chorus: His cum only goes
Mahir: My cum only goes
Background Chrous: Not in a *3/4th beat snaps for a bar* Not in a.
Mahir: Not in a Goat, but you know I’m the GOAT. You know I can’t gloat, but I blew a fat cloud before doing my time. DAEP taught me that life’s a fleeting hookah cloud, my belt gives me clout and my mind’s not around. I eat that pussy like it’s Halal. Sacrificial lamb, that’s the bitch that who fucks my backing band.

[Anonymous No.11965944]

>>11965939
I unironically want this shit staged

[Anonymous No.11966224]

>>11965930
Thanks for the criticism, So clean up some of the perspectives and be more direct? I was worried that I had my tense missed up so I was wondering if thats good also.

[Anonymous No.11966262]

>>11965939
This is ... beautiful.

[Anonymous No.11966275]

>>11965939
The Punjab empire was ruled by Sikhs

[Anonymous No.11967197]

>>11965939
Nice

[Anonymous No.11968099]

bump

[Anonymous No.11968490]

>>11965653
The content of it is gross anon at least try to be subtle with your weird foot and cum fetishes

[Anonymous No.11968508]

>>11968490
But is it badly written? That's wtf I care about.

[Anonymous No.11968661]

>>11965150
9.1/11

[Anonymous No.11969152]

Excerpt from a rap song I'm working on

i just wanna hold you
as the shit’s falling down
cities burning around us
we’ll take our love to the streets
fears drown in laughter
they’ll shoot us down
they’ll shoot us down
we’ll put it past them
this ecstasy is everlasting

Do you like it? Any scathing critiques?

[Anonymous No.11969158]

critique this

"Draw near to me the darkness, and in your grasp release me unto your wild dark. The light of the world is not worth my fare. Take me asunder to the bottom most pits of your unrelenting dark. Cast aside my worldly ideals and fill me with your blessing so that I may shun the world and become a part of the absolution of darkness; Where there is no life and no death, an empty place where there need not be desire but the desires of the world gone. Engorge me with the vices of the world so that I may not care to redeem myself, for I have been redeemed in darkness. Fill me with gluton. Fill me with greed. Fill me with lust, for I have been far from these things. Take me under your cruel wing and free me from the fear of these things. I will drink and be merry, but merriment is not my desire. I wish to drown in this lowly spire. Empty and bleak the notion of me, fill me with disregard for the apprehension of these things; They never cease, but always become. I am tired of life and would like to retire, but not before I am filled with opposition toward remorse. Cast me down into the dark, blossoming spirit of dark recourse. I love not the light. Not anymore for I have seen the way."

[Anonymous No.11969173]

>>11969158
it's cute i like it

[Anonymous No.11969186]

>>11969173
dont lie to me. im drunk and trying to separate myself from myself. I dont wish for your critique. someone else critique me quick before i get too sober

[Anonymous No.11969196]

>>11969173
really though this is just me musing trying to figure out what i really want to write.

[Anonymous No.11969211]

>>11969158
First sentence is redundant though the actual imagery isn't too bad, if perhaps a bit cliche. Use dark/darkness only once. Second sentence is pretty good, I'd say open up with that instead of the initial opener.

Dude, read your shit and cut out most instances of Darkness. It gets super redundant and unnecessary. There's other ways to say what you're implying. Vary the sentence structure and images. Don't jump from one image to the other; focus on one good, layered one, and develop it.

Also, the constant structure and format of "make me a or b or c" is repetitive, and after a bit stops being edgy and becomes simply whiney. I like the ideas you're going for, they're right up my alley, but there's nothing to anchor them down into an emotional progression, or development, or even a concrete situation that would trigger these emotions. Clean up your prose, define the mechanism of delivery, structure your stuff. In other words, just edit my nigga, just edit.

now, care to review mine?
>>11965653

[Anonymous No.11969224]

>>11969196
i like it. sounds like a character breaking down and accepting the ways of the world. it's bleak and strong, that feeling and image. but your writing is kinda boring and repeats itself more than necessary.

[Anonymous No.11969266]

>>11969211
too many words and no discernible theme is my critique. "like dancers do with music, i end myself to you" was the highlight. the rest of the poem sounds unorganized and tangential. "pearly discharge/ drying on your breast/ cunt stains on the fabric/ of a sunny yellow dress" sounds like you're in high school and reading bukowski for the first time

[Anonymous No.11969269]

>>11969211
Im no great writer, but I think that the first line is not redundant. What i meant to say is that the i would like the darkness to draw closer to me and from the light grab me and pull me deeper into the dark where i would be released on my own. I know its cliche however, and after reading your full post, i realize im a shitty writer. I will take your advice. thank you. But mind you, that shit was off the top of my head just trying to muse.

let me ask you though, how do you muse? what gets your brain working?

[Anonymous No.11969291]

>>11969224
oh. i see. It does repeat itself, but im glad you got the meaning in it. It is very much about renouncing a pious life and going toward the darkness

[Anonymous No.11969296]

>>11969269
No worries man, I'm glad that I could be of help.

Honestly, it kinda depends. Reading a lot really gets my brain going. If I have a theme I want to write about, connecting it to a memory sometimes gives me the emotional map of where I want a story to go. If I listen to a song I really like I connect it to a story, or if I'm in a situation where things are very stimulating I also start weaving stories in my head. At parties, for instance, this happens a lot. Weed helps but does not produce stories, it only twists your ideas around.

I can only recommend that you consume literature, read a lot, think a lot, try to see stories and characters. Basically, you have to get your brain to work. Something that works for me is automatic writing. Pick a sentence you like and write it out, and then don't stop writing until you run out of steam, regardless of how shitty or forced it feels, at least it gets the juices flowing. I've had many great ideas doing this.

Best of luck man, and thanks for critiquing my shit, even if you didn't enjoy it.

[Anonymous No.11969325]

>>11969296
I read your whole post and take it to heart. However my only reply is that I have legitimate ADD. My reading comprehension is terrible, and I can never recall the ideas that come. Also i didnt critique your writing. But ill look at it, though im not sure ill offer any good advice.

[Anonymous No.11969330]

>>11969291
Repeating yourself isn't necessarily a bad thing. this passage of yours reads like some dialogue in a french movie. Keep refining it, keep writing.

[Anonymous No.11969342]

>>11969325
Oh my bad, it was probs someone else. Thanks for taking the time to review it though!

I have ADD too, and bad at that. Something that helps my comprehension is annotating. put post its on the quotes and pages you like in books, maybe carry a small notebook and take notes of ideas, or do it on your phone, maybe record yourself speaking these ideas. Straight up medication works to help you too.

Take time reading, reread, dedicate yourself. I often go back a chapter or a few pages to re-read and catch it all. ADD or not, no one gets everything in a book on first read. You juts gotta set up habits that will help you alleviate those problems.

[Anonymous No.11969343]

>>11969296
We muse exactly the same. I like what you said about weed twisting your ideas around

[Anonymous No.11969348]

Our home is a tall and impregnable mountain called Heaven's Hammer; reaching out into the clouds never-ending. It is often spoken of in legend and folktales and songs across the lands both at home and elsewhere. Us Dwarfs are fastidious in nature and claimed to have lived in it since the very beginning of it's inception which we know is contradictory as Dwarves haven't always existed lore and rumours stretch further and further back that other races and beings had also come and gone and so will our race one day when the time arrives. As it is tradition and part of the treaty we take no part in the quarrels or wars of the other races in the realm but we do deliver goods, swords, armour, minerals, ores, etc. To those who are in need of them.

Thoughts?

[Anonymous No.11969361]

>>11969342
thats some good advice. I got in the bad habit of using adderal for my ADD issues. It helps, but is kind of illegal, but it works too well to stop.
I muse in a more poetic way, often with music, but my method is a little more fluid, and in the moment, but again i cant remember half the shit i say when im musing.

[Anonymous No.11969364]

>>11969348
lazy exposition

[Anonymous No.11969390]

---------------------

Back in grade school, I used to play truth and dare a lot with my classmates. Mostly because it gave me a chance to get closer to that one girl I had a crush on. The game revolved around either someone choosing truth and having to answer incredibly personal questions, or choosing dare and having to do gross tasks.

I always lied whenever I got picked for truth. That's the sort of person I am.
"How many times a day do you masturbate Aaron?" "I don't do that disgusting stuff man." Like that. You can't cheat at dares however. I remember one time Harvey Davidson had to eat a bunch of bugs from the school garden.

That memory has stuck with me. Harvey with a mass of bugs crawling in his mouth, his wild eyes darting from one of us to the other, begging for approval. There were a few nervous giggles but no one laughed. It felt wrong. It felt like we were seeing something so grotesque that it should be forbidden. When Harvey was done with his task and threw up, a couple of others followed.

The first time I saw my aunt eat bugs was one of the nights in the first week of September, when the summer heat had started to give way to the chilly winds of autumn. I had had a double helping of kebab that night so I was feeling a bit heavy and couldn't sleep. Since the weather was nice and cool, I decided to take a short walk on the rooftop, to help with digestion.

The body expects danger at night. It's a natural phenomenon. Our hearing is heightened and our vision gets used to the darkness because on a primal level we know that dark things lurk at night. I'm walking and thinking about the math assignment due tomorrow when I hear low grunting sounds from below. They were guttural, as if the person was speaking through a filter. I looked down and saw my aunt with her face buried in the garden. As soon as I looked down, she looked up as if she was expecting me. Her mouth was full of blood and tiny gory bits of worms. She smiled.

[Anonymous No.11969393]

>>11969361
If you can, try Vyvance or concerta. Those are slow-release non-amphetamine ADD meds. I was on concerta for quite a while and it helped a lot. And for your method, just try to take note of everything man. Register your thoughts. If you do talk a lot, then record what you're saying on your phone and review it later.

[Anonymous No.11969398]

>>11969364

I feared it would be a little generic but I'm trying to create atmosphere for the mountain. The rest of the world isn't important in the story.

[Anonymous No.11969480]

>>11969390
Not sure if this story is leading to a generic horror or what but I like it the writing is clear and creates a very dense atmospher of dread. I like it.

[Anonymous No.11969529]

>>11969480
Thanks man, yeah it's part of a generic horror story but it is my first time writing a story so wanted to try out the genre I'm most well read in

[Anonymous No.11969538]

>>11962331
lol

[Anonymous No.11969590]

>>11969390

You've got talent but it feels like you're trying to imitate King a little here and there. You can see a lot of influence from his writing here and there.

Mine is the one here >>11969348 I'm trying to get a broader audience but I don't want to fall into typical pitfalls of fantasy cliches the modern audience is familiar with.

[illiterate No.11969761]

>>11965150
I like it

>>11969158
sounds like the shit i wrote between ages 18-20. nobody's going to read anything remotely this bleak and purple at length. you can probably still make a decent writer out of yourself yet, though you're stuck in a phasic rut that will eventually end if you stick to your craft long enough

>>11969390
there's no 'hook' here. very pedestrian diction. familiar phrasing. nothing exciting about this piece at all.

>time for you guys to tear me to shreds
here's a random page from the novel draft I'm in the process of putting together. this is my 1st go at it, have barely touched it since it first hit the page. would anyone read a novel-length piece written like this? the protag is speaking to a black trans prostitute over dinner in this scene

[Anonymous No.11970093]

>>11962073
Incel American autist/10

[Anonymous No.11970612]

>>11969158

I'd find this acceptable as a monologue from a character that's intended to be laughed at and mocked. Not bad in any technical way, but purely embarrassing if meant to be taken seriously.

>>11965653

Rupi / Kaur.

Swerve, peasants. Just wrote this in the kitchen.

In gazing ever upward, I saw a cloud sprent autumn sky
Perforated neatly by the waxing lunar eye
A rainbow wrought in cirrus rounding perfectly and still
One hallowed image crafted just to momentary lie

In that vaporous sheer cloth, like a veil upon the night
I thought to find some meaning in an arc of prismed light
But soon the wind had carried all and left me in the chill
With scattered useless symbols and my own occluded sight

[Anonymous No.11970642]

To see the same face forever,
And from it grow weary - never!

Loveliest of spheres!
Thou hangest low in our starry vault.
Climbing, a crescendo across constellations.
Present in all seasons, by default,
Thy fidelity brings forth our elation.

Darkest of depths!
With wistful eyes, always longing
Towards even the most obscure.
Out of the afternoon horizon thronging,
Thou appearest as beauty most pure.

Most sorrowful of woes!
Whirling, ever onward, to a fate well known.
No light to claim, a mere guest
At the Sun's well-lit, glorious throne;
Making, pleading - a little light, thou request.

To see the same face forever,
And from it grow weary - never!

[Anonymous No.11970763]

Fuck my ass desu

many terribly quiet customers exist but none more
terribly quiet than Man
his footsteps pass so perilously soft across the sea
in the marble winter
up the stiff blue waves and every Tuesday
down he grinds the unastonishable earth
with horse and shatter

shatters too the cheeks of birds and traps them in his forest headlights
salty silvers roll into his net, he weaves it just for that
this terribly quiet customer
he dooms
animals and mountains technically
by yoke he makes the bull bend, the horse to its knees

and utterance and thought as clear as complicated air and
moods that make a city moral, these he taught himself
the snowy cold he knows to flee
and every human exigency crackles as he plugs it in
every outlet works but
one
Death stays dark

Death he cannot doom
fabrications notwithstanding
evil
good
laws
gods
honest oathtaking notwithstanding

hilarious in his high city
you see him cantering just as he please
the lava up to here

[Anonymous No.11971012]

There’s ten minutes left on my album and I want to read my book but I don’t want to read with an album on and I could go get some cake but then that will take more than ten minutes so I’ll have to eat cake without an album on unless I press replay while I eat but than that will take forty more minutes until I can read and I can’t eat cake for forty minutes but there’s still nine minutes left on my album and I want to read my book but I don’t want to read with the album on and I could go get some cake but that’ll take over nine minutes so I’ll be eating cake without an album on unless I press replay while I eat but that’ll be forty one minutes until I can read and I can’t eat cake for forty one minutes but there’s still nine still minutes left on my album there’s nine still minutes left on my album and I can’t eat cake or read my book, but, I could just eat cake while I read.

[Anonymous No.11971016]

>>11971012
Wow, I haven't wrote "than" instead of "then" in ages.

[Anonymous No.11971165]

>>11965150
don't use the word halted, it seems out of place

[Anonymous No.11971176]

There’s ten minutes left on my album and I want to read my book but I don’t want to read with an album on so I could go get some cake but that will take more than ten minutes so I’d have to eat the cake without the album on unless I press replay but that will take more than forty minutes and that’s forty more minutes until I can read and I can’t eat cake for forty minutes but there’s still nine minutes left on my album and I want to read my book but I don’t want to read with the album on and I could go get cake but that’ll take over nine minutes and I’ll be eating cake without an album on unless I press replay but that’ll be thirty nine minutes until I can read and I can’t eat cake for thirty nine minutes but there’s still nine minutes left on my album there's nine still minutes left on my album and I can’t eat cake or read my book, but, I could just eat the cake while I read.

[Anonymous No.11971488]

>>11969761
I really like this. Abrupt ending though.

[Anonymous No.11971551]

>>11969590
Generally curious to which specific pitfalls of fantasy cliches you're trying to avoid. Do you have a general outline because it's difficult to tell just from that paragraph.

[Anonymous No.11971588]

>>11962073
what a terrific argument against formalism

[Anonymous No.11971624]

[Anonymous No.11971745]

>>11962591
Wait, does everyone else see the negative space in the trees as a chest and shoulder, the lamp shade as a hat, and the glass as blank mannequin face?

[illiterate No.11971754]

>>11971488
thanks man! You can find more of other things I've wrriten at

>larthurhunt.com

when the novel's finished, that's where I'll be posting it

[Anonymous No.11972119]

Its a bit florid but its set in the 1870s and Im trying to get a gothic vibe going on, its going to be a young adult horror/mystery. I dont like the intro that much at the moment but I'm not sure why but I think my best bet is just to keep writing and edit it all later so I'm happy with it. I'm thinking of maybe cutting the first two paragraphs entirely and just starting with an edited version the third paragraph.

"The world is full of dark places. These shadowy nooks hide grotesque obscurities that humanity is better off overlooking. Every day we pass these dark places. They're under our feet, within our walls, in houses across the street and in the pines behind our homes. Sometimes the miscreants that call dark places home find a more disturbing place to make residence; they find it within us; in the hearts and minds of people we think we know, or worse yet, in our own hearts and minds.

There was a time before evil hid in darkness; humanity struggled against it, and was keenly aware of its presence. With the exception of a few; humanity now looks at that ancient knowledge as myth; as mere allegory, and metaphor. They look at their fear as naive superstition. Humanity has grown ignorant of evil in its perceived absence; consciously we are unaware, yet we retain some instinct. Tacitly we are aware; we can feel evils cruel grip around our hearts when it is near. Its the feeling of a presence. The feeling of being watched. The inexplicable sensation of dread. It stirs archaic biological responses at the core of our beings; apparent anachronisms, mechanisms long forgotten. It makes you feel sick, scared, your heart beats as loud as war drums; it beats in your head; it creeps into your bones; up your spine, and squeezes the air from your lungs.

On terrible occasions, evil will reveal itself to a hapless and tragic few. Alexander had no idea the fate that awaited him when he stepped off the boat and into open arms of Manhattan; he was to become one of the tragic few. Those arms were to smother the life out of him. He had made this journey with the intention of adventure, to escape the monotony of academic life in England. He would get adventure, though it would be of a kind far more grim than he had hoped for."

[Anonymous No.11972138]

Does anyone have advice on building tension in a first person novel? In film, or in a book with omniscient third person narrator, the film maker/author can give pieces of information to the audience that the characters are unaware of. The classic example of this being the bomb under the table, you have two characters discussing something mundane but as they talk you show or tell the audience that there is a bomb ticking away under the table, because the audience has dire information that the characters dont have it builds tension.

However in a story written from the first person perspective you can't really build tension in the same way, because whatever the character knows is what the readers know, so how do you go about building tension effectively? Is it just a matter of building conflicting interest between protagonists and antagonists?

[Anonymous No.11972152]

A homeless man lives in the bins outside my flat, this is what he was shouting a few weeks ago.

R8 and H8:
a girl on the bus
a black girl
a fucking muslim
corrupt the lot of ya
sleep here tonight martin
oh no
what are we sperm banks
oh no
what are we machines
oh no
no one for martin and the banks
fuck america, get em over, get europe
don't don't don't
no money no baccy
aint right is it martin
doesn't have to be this way
kill the prostitute
shoot him dead

[Anonymous No.11972284]

>Your work is so shit people won't even respond to it

[Anonymous No.11972290]

>>11971551

The entire novel is set in the Dwarfs home and not in a typical Tolkien copy and paste backdrop. I don't want to focus on the events happening outside the mountain since they aren't important to the story.

[Anonymous No.11972298]

>>11972284
Its worse than someone actually telling you your work is shit. It means your work is so unremarkable its not even worth a response.

[Anonymous No.11972342]

>>11972298
I would take being told directly it's shit over being ignored any day of the week.
I get ignored irl enough

[Anonymous No.11972482]

>>11972284
Lots of people probably just don't like commenting on certain things. Some people probably don't feel experienced enough to talk about poetry etc.

[Anonymous No.11972489]

>>11972138
Unless its a first person novel in the present tense you absolutely can withold information

[Anonymous No.11972930]

>>11970763
Truly amazing.
Kinda resembles my own style desu


White cloth was
Your choice.
The corner I had occupied,
One of the low,
The silent, the one,
Where I had you,
Only in touch.

We were friends.
Brief seconds
Got more sweet.

The year we went
After
Will stay
With me within me.

Though not
With you.
Not me.
Never me, in there.
I wilt, without you.

Where people were,
You've been.
Where do you go?

Happyness.
Where's yours?
Can you proclaim
What you once did?

What's your focus?
Do you remember?
You're not lonely.
You behave.

[Anonymous No.11973229]

the energy fugitive

in a toiling vault she mimed for clans
built a lovenest’s strength enchanting, rare—
waving frank each word weaving pale hand
& veto mass reduction with the lightbulb pear
look once at the daring companion look once
& applaud raving the bastard curio
knife wicked with blister and drunk scotch months
a’blessing line of enduring phone-glow
& bit by melancholy’s sweet forgetful whim
cracking a smile of butter and honey
lo, our soundguy crusade our soundguy film
can we crash this cloud loud and scummy
she exhales without pity numb with plight
gathering tyrants to murder with light

[Anonymous No.11973421]

Opening to a short story. Are you inclined to read on?

https://pastebin.com/3CBEEmuF

[illiterate No.11973870]

>>11973421
>https://pastebin.com/3CBEEmuF

I liked how he raises the skull in his hand and how you appear to drag out that revelation for a line or so. The image is nice, but this needs to cut toward action pretty quickly or at least establish who the narrator is. It feels a bit disembodied.

[Anonymous No.11974786]

>>11965939
>(all white and especially Jewish actors who audition should be politely shown the door)
Based Poo-Gibson

[Anonymous No.11975736]

August winds blew Pine through the valleyside
Piercing orchards and the garden of the Magistrate
The fire at night keeps the garden warm niggers
And comanches under the shade of trees in the
Mad wilderness tangled vines of archaic fear
They lay out in the morning following wind
Setting out ambuscades for the Christian hordes
The nourishment and sup of blood enough
for commiseration of their grotesque accouchement

[Anonymous No.11975839]

As I entered the lecture hall, he stalked the realm, peripatetic and perpetual, antediluvian and wizened, circumambulating the pulpit as if chained to it, tense, terse. The hall brimmed and he bursted into alacrity, navigating the pitfalls and perils of abstruse linguistics in his usual adroit manner, casting his bare, birdless branches about in search of apposite expression. There was, and could not be, no adumbration or amelioration; the arcana of his dark conjurations were supposed to be accessible only to the chosen, the acolytes who have devoted their abstemious lives to the craft, and so he commanded respect among most of the present, surrounded with the foggy air of persistent mystery, with an atavistic, predatory glint shining in his eyes and we were the prey.

The weekly die were cast and all fell into their usual, comfortable habits, and my attention lapsed. I have conjured up six children, standing in a sunlit garden, four of the sight and two of the sound, and delved into their wonderful clouds of awareness, designating a misty territory with borders undiscernible, ever intertwining, rising and receding in the manner of the waves. It held me for a while, and it was not until there was a voice speaking of fire, heard from outside the pocket I have found myself in, that my consciousness wandered again – I have seen a fireplace with the last ember calmly dying, and there were two in front of it, witnessing its demise, sharing a tender, timid, tired smile, and I knew them to be Castiglione and Bembo – I had fashioned their apocryphal likenesses close to my heart, to recall them in hours of yearning. They sat in imperfect silence, taking in the overwhelming, calm slumber, the sounds of which advanced from all angles, motionless, rising, receding, hours after Guidobaldo has left them there, thinking of Plato, watching the flame flicker out.

Again I stirred, or rather a stirring in front of me awakened me to my surroundings; there was a spillage ahead, brown liquid seeping down the wood of the desk, and much consternation; she who had caused it all froze, and out of her brow – a branch and lyre climbed, and I saw her – tense, as if she were a gun-barrel, loaded now with leaps, but not yet fired; just as when, bathing in the forest, a bather attends, the tree-fringed pool mirrored in her face, as the poet says, and there the wizened apparition stood and witnessed, bare branches akimbo, and as they crossed a white swallow may have sat on them for a short while – not admonitory was his gaze, neither was it acrid; abut the pulpit he stood, but the time has come to for us to leave him there, still motionless as we poured out in another brown surge.

[Anonymous No.11975842]

>>11975839
not a native speaker here, would appreciate comments, this here was an exercise i had to do for my uni and i was high on nabokov and woolf

[Anonymous No.11975888]

Down yonder road where the blind mulecarts drag along. We told folk tales and had bacon over the fire. Thunder on the desecrate canyons trench.
“There’s a pale man in the Bluffs. Takes the form of an antelope in the steamied morning. Fog carries its bare elopement just far enough to keep you chasing. Close enough to keep you going. A trapper found em once in the dense foliage. Fired off a shot square at its hind, saw the blooming mist carry across the vapors of morning, but when he came to the dry reeds blossomed fruits of nothing, eschewed like the evaporate of still ponds. I wonder if man casts as dense a shadow in the minute particulars of his inveterate offlings, does he instead cast a crimson mist and evaporate forever?”

[Anonymous No.11975919]

i am unfortunately still going

crits in next post

[Anonymous No.11975949]

eternal reminder that my own writing does not reflect my critiquing ability
>>11962073
this is not good and i am sorry. v poor grammar, topic matter could be presentable if done in a different tone, a different context. i don't think any of this piece works. it can be reworked into something that feels more autobiographically formative but for now this doesn't do it dog.
>>11962307
because v a p o u r w a v e
>>11962591
it feels cryptic which i think you are going for. maybe i am too drunk to understand. it reads well read as prose but there's no real meter or structure
>>11963291
messy structure. i personally have nothing against archaic words and themes, but here the overall structure feels plodding and clumsy. count how many syllables are in each line and see why each aa bb cc etc rhyme doesn't seem to work well
>>11965150
>he stopped
feels better with the suddenness of your onomatopoeia than
>he halted there
consider a larger, hopefully whole paragraph and make your imitation of speech patterns a more central part, here it sticks out like a sore thumb.
>>11965653
the second poem looks like a gun with a fucked up scope
>>11969152
yeah none of it rhymes
who are your rapper influences? half-rhymes can work in rap but this is essentially spoken word and repeating a single line is kanye-tier. listen to some aesop rock, mf doom, busta rhyme just for some examples of tightknit structures, wordplay and loquaciousness. my scathing critique is scrap that entirely and learn how a rap works.

>>11969158
as another anon said, its functional and written as a piece not meant to be taken seriously. if it is, it's v melodramatic, very nothing said in typical ways.

[Anonymous No.11975970]

This is the first line of my new novel:

The man on stage has silver hair, a blue tie, and glasses. He is old, white, and ugly. ‘Life,’ he says, ‘is beautiful.’

[Anonymous No.11975979]

>>11969348
agreed in lazy exposition - it reads like a dwarf explaining everything about his people to someone who doesn't know. open it like a mantra amongst the young, like a nursery school rhyme about the mountain then pull back to a narrator describing it. it feels a little too 'this is this' for now.
>>11969390
full of simplistic dread. yeah it reads like king. very very simple, but something in that is kind of evocative. maybe even parse it back to simplify it more.
>>11969761
i like this. i like the second last paragraph that ends with a hammering home of the tragedy. keep going.
>>11970612
it's definitely nice Rupi but it feels emotionally lacking - too tied up in romantic language.
>>11970642
i like this but - and this is an odd crit - it feels like something i've read a lot that i could haphazardly apply it to a lot of different writers. it is very good, it just feels very romantic era common.
i'm sorry but i'm getting so close to sleep

[Anonymous No.11975985]

>>11969390
This is really good. The language needs polish, but the framing is superb. We now know exactly what the story is about, and we want to know why your aunt is eating bugs. Good hook, that's the main job of an opener.

[Anonymous No.11975999]

First sentence of my recent novel:

The man on stage has silver hair, a blue tie, and glasses. He is old, white, and ugly. ‘Life,’ he says, ‘is beautiful.’

[Anonymous No.11976021]

poem!

A Q U A P L A N E

Did you hear the one
about the aquaplane?
The rubber floating
through numb-out rain?
The wheels that spun
and tripped and leaned
through codeine hours
and xanax dreams
down black-milk rivers
through white-out blinds
and itching shivers
on bathroom tiles.
It made hard pavement
a cherry dream
and pancaked trauma
through long-form ease.
It’s not a vision
of some blacktop blaze.
It’s just flat-out water
and it goes for days.

[Anonymous No.11976045]

>>11972290
Yep but nobody will give a flying fuck about your story unless you give them a charcter to care about. You need to give you audience a character, they are invested in, give that character a problem (and the more interesting the problem the more interesting the story will be), and then use the story of the character responding to the problem to show the world you have constructed. Think about it- this is exactly what Tolkien did, and it's not rocket science. Nobody wants to open a book and read three paragraphs describing magical mountains.

[Anonymous No.11976059]

>>11976021
i like this

[Anonymous No.11976073]

>>11962073
Criiiinge

[Anonymous No.11976082]

>>11975970
keep going

[Anonymous No.11976102]

>>11965939
MAAAMOTHERFUCKINNIGGA

[Anonymous No.11976143]

>>11975919
been reading since xvi ; keep going ...

>find the road again
are you still driving ?

[Anonymous No.11976152]

>>11975919
The I am I am repetition is a little too close to Sylvia Plath. I’d recommend removing it if you want it published anywhere. In the last stanza, the sentences are awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t know if this is on purpose, or not. I would recommend cleaning up the first line, “Sometimes we sit, sometimes we don’t,” is much more useful to the reader than “more often than not we don’t.” It just adds another layer of fruitless searching. Let the absurdity of it sit on its own, do not call out to the reader to look for an underlying rationality. >>11975888
This is my story

[freedomw No.11976163]

used to be late everyday,
acted like i didn't care,
played the fool they never dared
talked to me when i was there.
Scared of darkie so they spare,
only care about the fares,
all know system isn't fair,

we live in a same sphere,
all have the same fear,
life and death it's so clear,
jsut eat a pear pie
with your peers
ain't no queers
make you cheer,
drink no beeeers,

[hook:]

i pray they realize
it's not their real lives.
look through their real eyes,
they spreading real lies,
ego/ made us/ paralyse,

[verse]

it's dark at night, i fight write,
fight writer or write fighter,
a rap factor, rap phantom,
they rarely fathom,
frighter than the dark knight,
my skin tone blacker than the sky at night,
might need a flashlight,
gotta get your sister off that stilt,
no lean in my sprite,
go ma nigga do what thou wilt ,
they trip inspite,
see a nigga popo gonna tilt,
theur mind unwide,
tho i see the sorrow and the guilt,
that's deep inside,

[Anonymous No.11976183]

Black motherfucker I’m a
Dark nigga fronting on a
Spark plug huffer with some
dark Haired brothers
I’m on that
Low IQ bell curve
Welfare food stamp cuisine superb
Bullshit my way I am so absurd
and my Vocals drenched with reverb
Get Lena Dunham in a headlock
That’ll stop that Jew talk
African American space stuck
Get Lena Dunham in a face fuck
No apologies for any misogynies

[Anonymous No.11976189]

>>11962310
based graphic designer

[Anonymous No.11976191]

dribble, scribble,
stack up letters like a scrabble,
fire kindled got me idle,
hear the fidle then i spittle.
sweetest rythm, never bitter,
getting better, dreaming bigger
for all humans,
wanna save em even if they evil,
i ain't from the bottom but i'm elevatin,

[Anonymous No.11976193]

Consider the nigger:
Smelly, like my asshole
Black, like my asshole
Stupid, like my asshole
Indeed in the darkness of my asshole, every essence of the nigger's abyssal hideousness is revealed.

[Anonymous No.11976198]

>>11962073

[Anonymous No.11976204]

>>11976198
pro tip its not hidden if you post it all the time

[Anonymous No.11976210]

>>11976143
thank you, it's a constant process of editing.
still driving for sure, but i did hit that fence.
thank you.
>>11976152
maybe, i still haven't read plath honestly. it's not fit for publishing regardless at the mo but i'll start reading some of her work to make sure. it was on purpose (i literally hit a fence in my car which sort of shocked me that i wanted to describe) but I can see why it would be ugly without the context. for that i was honestly just reaching for syllables. i'll try rework it into something smoother but at least the last two lines i want to keep that crash rhythm. if you don't mind i will drop some reccs of your stuff in the morning, i'm a little too drunk to appropriately review stuff

[Anonymous No.11976219]

pop up with a pistol
data is the ammo
only shooting wisdom
did ya get the memo?
paper's not the purpose
think about your posture
evade of your meadow
free up of your 'puters
stop looking at posters
stop looking at pornos
i ain't got the answers
we all made some errors
fessing up to paper
fessing up to pastors
never have I never
seek up for a pardon
from a human person
doesn't reallt make sense

[Anonymous No.11976221]

>>11976198
>that meme
what are some books on the nigger-esque YEEEAH KILLEM -attitude of the modern American mongrel?

[Anonymous No.11976234]

>>11976210
you're welcome.

always must watch out for the fence,
hope you was latched on for defense

[Anonymous No.11976237]

>>11976234
driving a 4wd ute
pulled out of it like a beaut

[Anonymous No.11976315]

There was a time where I was afraid. But I fear no more.
"I am a man, a broken man confused in worry. I am a troubled man set apart from myself. I am a good man in heart, doing what is good. I am a giving man, sharing with those that need. I am a humble man, knowing my needs are not to come first. I am a kind man, forgiving to those that transgress. I am a wise man, understanding that all things have reason. I am a foolish man, wayward in mind. I know that though I be troubled, foolish, but good and kind I reside in a time when these things are denied. I am not the man I once knew for I was blind to the things I did and do. I failed to see what my reflection hid from me, that mirror so clear blinded me to fear; A fear I should possess to know when it is I that transgress and in ignorance did I bless myself unknowingly at the mercy of that image I met. Even now I deny my every sense, was it by fears or by tears that I wandered aimlessly, to never rest? I am a man and in my being I will remain, for I must not worry nor fear for the things I confess, though in my spirit I protest. There was a time when I was afraid and I will pull down that shroud that covers my shame. I will earn my name."

Im having a rough time friends. critique me in my solemness.

[Anonymous No.11976593]

>>11976315
Gay

[Anonymous No.11976823]

>>11976593
thank you

[Anonymous No.11976965]

The castle > the trial. Why's this so overlooked while everyone sucks the trials balls.

[Anonymous No.11976969]

>>11976965

fuck meant to start a new thread for this my bad

[As Sindh No.11977287]

Through this short life, wonders passed through my view:
Sun, moons and stars; roses of scarlet hue.
-
The sun so bright, it's warmth that gives us life,
Moons and stars, which drive women to despair,
The rose, whose beauty roused poets through the night.
-
With you, I can only these wonders compare.
Your smile, which shines through this sad and dark heart.
Your faces' fair glow, only the moon can match.
-
Your eyes like stars, which twinkle in the dark.
In this monochrome world your lips a catch
for bees who for roses your lips mistake.
-
Through this short life, wonders passed through my view,
But none as wondrous, not yet, as you.

[Anonymous No.11977961]

The snow falls heavily as I lumber across the frosty wasteland of my neighbourhood. A crimson line of red tracks the white expanse behind me. My blood. Heh. This is expected when you're one of the most ruthless bounty hunters in this town. This god forsaken hellhole that even Dante would shit himself if he were to even glimpse its depravity. This pit of despair. My kind of town.

I pull a cigarette from my jacket pocket (shit, last one) and light the fucker up. A dancing seductress of smoke glides before me. Yeah it's a bad habit...fuck you for judging me for it pal. Yeah i guess I'm a little on edge since i found out through the old grapevine that my last victim wasn't quite dead when i left him there in his shower with a hatchet lodged in his shoulder. Yeah...a fuckin 'oops' isn't gonna get me outta this jam lemme tell you.

My entire job security...hell...my LIFE security depends on making sure my prey is dead as soon as possible. Obliterated. Demolished. So when i fail to put someone six feet under...yeah...it's me who becomes the prey i guess you could say.

Well..fuck it. Bout time i had me a challenge. Let the worlds most fucked up game of Cat and Mouse begin...

[Anonymous No.11978154]

posting this for the first time in a while: https://pastebin.com/2PsjCrjJ

[Anonymous No.11978492]

>>11976021
This feels like a Ween song

[Anonymous No.11978496]

>>11976021
This is great anon, great vibe!

[Anonymous No.11979017]

in case she does
i’ll pack it ready—
maybe the next ones, solid gold—
she’ll haul it up but i won’t let her;
it’s just that lonely landscape

in case she does
i’ll pack the bugles
play the waters of the embers

pansift fingers scraping rust
in case she does i’ll call her bluff

[Anonymous No.11979350]

>>11979017
This is good. Poems that end where they begin are hard to pull off, but you did it. My favorite line is "it's just that lonely landscape," it seems like something out of a David Berman song.
this is mine >>11975888

[Anonymous No.11979535]

My wife’s the reason anything gets done.
She nudges me towards promise by degrees.

She is a perfect symphony of one.

Our son is her most beautiful reprise.

We chase the melodies that seem to find us

Until they’re finished songs and start to play.

When senseless acts of tragedy remind us

That nothing here is promised, not one day

This show is proof that history remembers

We live through times when hate and fear seem stronger

We rise and fall and light from dying embers,

Remembrances that hope and love last longer.

And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside.

I sing Vanessa’s symphony, Eliza tells her story.

Now fill the world with music, love, and pride.

[Anonymous No.11979843]

>>11965150
buh buh buh bad

[Anonymous No.11979859]

>>11979843
buh buh buh based

[Anonymous No.11980310]

This is part of a play I wrote back in 2012. It's very long.

CUT TO: INTERIOR. JONES HOMESTEAD. JONES KITCHEN

There are black women cooking and organizing pans. Overseer #1 busts in, waving his hands about.

Overseer #1
Get outside! Go! Go!

The women drop the pots and pans and hurry outside, pulling up their skirts as they run.

CUT TO: EXT. JONES COTTON FIELD. DAY.

Thaddeus crosses his arms as the women hurry outside. More and more people rush to form a straight line in front of Thaddeus. Once the line is completely formed the slaves stare blankly at him. He has a perpetual slight smile on his face as he begins to pace back and forth.

Thaddeus
Last afternoon one of my slaves was lashed for disobeying. Today, I will test whether or not he has learned from his lesson. You see, Niggers share aspects with dogs, yet some aspects they do not. Loyalty? No. Ignorance? Yes. A Nigger learns to obey like a dog learns to sit: through behavioral conditioning. You Niggers know your place. If the field Niggers were in the house they’d likely piss and fling their own shit in my soup, and if the Monkeys were put in the field they would likely shit all over my precious crop and tear my face off with their ape claws. You see, when asked, why I hate Niggers, I can only help but laugh. I do not hate Niggers, I just correctly understand that they are not human, and that they should be treated accordingly. A Nigger with rights is like a fish at the peak of a mountain, a fish may have a spectacular view, but that fish will collapse under the colossal pressure of the air. The same thing goes with Niggers--they just aren’t meant to have rights. Why do you think, that in the thousands of years of civilization, that Europeans had flourished and that the whole of the continent of Africa continues to live in the stone age. But of course, you obviously don’t understand a single word I am saying, your illiterate Nigger brain cannot process the basic English I am speaking, causing you to believe I am spitting out gibberish.

[Anonymous No.11980358]

>>11980310
FREEDMAN
White culture has always been centered around violence. The crusades have...

THADDEUS
Oh please, spare me. If you credit us for the wars and violence we have committed you must also credit us for the birth of art, literature, and modern industry. We were constructing great monuments hundreds of feet tall while Africans were living in huts held together by shit and mud. You see, what the African lacks is ambition. A certain drive for greatness. It’s odd, that you are docile and dressed nicely directly due to the influence of the white man. What do you do to thank us? You defecate on the face of our culture with your words, and you amuse yourself with the idea of superiority. Men tolerate you because they are told to. True men do not belong to a time, they do not belong to an institution or a philosophy. Abolitionists are the true slaves, they belong to the cause as a way to justify their existence. Existence! Ha!, but you, I am pointing to you, or whatever eye that sits in the dome of your Banana-Peeling skull are nothing more than a wisp ingested in the girth of your Mama and spat out again into the minute particulars of your slow life. Your kind is the black stool of the earth, the worst of man and the best of beasts, yet I am not a racist. No. No, on the contrary I love niggers. But I am not blind to the truth. It is only due to the white man’s natural empathy that your kind isn’t wiped off of the face of this earth. We clean up your shit and walk away with a forced smile, all because we are people. Unlike you. You lack compassion, yet with that, lack logic and sense. These two compromising factors is what put us on top. It is why you’re kind is working in the fields and we are sitting on the porch, sipping cold tea. Empathy brings us down, logic pulls us up; these keep the balance, while your kind... Your kind shares attributes of reptiles, cold blood, ruthless nature. This coupled with the fact that countless atrocities paint the flag of your people bewilders me beyond belief, and what doubles this bewilderment is that people actually feel compassion towards you. It pains me greatly to acknowledge the fact that half of this great nation is deluded beyond belief. And when you people crowd around this “smiling ape” clapping as he puts on his little show a small part of my heart weeps, it yells a cry louder than any cannon blast or any battle cry, and I know that this is shared. The south is a sleeping beast, and it is taking its first morning breath. The declaration that your kind are property is it’s first groan, and you’d do good to mind it.

[Anonymous No.11980423]

EZEKIEL
Just over this ridge and by this river the promised land. I’ve been seeing it talk to me in dreams. A great plain the oxen there already a’gazin, the stars at night bright as the bonfires we build.
VIRGINIA
I pray to God through the night as though as you was right. I pray. I really do. But I see which way the wind blows and it blows counter to the hope of your sails.
EZEKIEL
Careful of the shadow your thoughts cast, we see the puppet show paint our everyday.
VIRGINIA
Well as though it was as able and real as your philosophizing screws it, tell your thoughts to cast a shadow of bread on my morning plate. I been happening upon one for three weeks now.
EZEKIEL
Quiet your wit down woman, you’re lucky I don’t sell you off to the Apaches.
VIRGINIA
I’ll cut off the little details of your manhood off in the night. Leave your kit in blazes the morning after. Before you’ve known it all the wagon be packed and stolen off.

[Anonymous No.11980798]

>>11975888
>>11979017 here. I really like yours. Everything "pale man" to the end is pretty perfect diction, which is impressive considering how obscure some of the language is. Reminds me of Mononoke at points.

Really the only suggestion I have would maybe be to combine the first two sentences into one and drag out the third with some sort of repetition or assonance. Seems like it would give the curt sentences once the dialogue begins more of an impact, and make the last couple longer ones more liberating.

I guess I'd also say "heated bacon over fire" instead of "had bacon over the fire."

[Anonymous No.11981452]

In a meadow where hyacinth flutter
like tufts of blue ember,
to imbibe the silver hum of one,
one lulling petal.
how else will i learn happiness?

[Anonymous No.11981461]

In a meadow where hyacinth flutter
like tufts of blue ember,
to imbibe the silver flare of one,
one lulling petal.
how else will i learn happiness?

[Anonymous No.11981556]

24/10/2018 – Eulogy for me, or my Father, or a Scotsman

For twenty years or thereabouts, he queued expectantly for his role in the drama, until, overcome with disquiet, he retired furtively into the ranks of the spectators, a drink in one hand, a smoke in the other, and a bag of gear tucked into his sock. To laugh and groan forever, or at least until the doorman slung him into the murmuring void, whereupon his memory gradually expired in the hearts and minds of his putrid offspring, as the smoke of his roll-ups once did on those sanguine earthly nights. Perhaps his spirit still writhes beneath sea, or above sky, or haunts the feculent alleys that his youth transgressed, molested by a thousand regrets and confounded by a thousand mystifying questions. The drama is a tragedy, but the air in this ancient theatre is too thin for conclusions. For now, all is drugs and music.

[Anonymous No.11981627]

Cosmic Gossamer

Through the looking glass we see a world created for the looking glass people.
I look up and see only the cosmic gossamer, Like a broken glass ceiling, a ceiling reflecting the iridescent dreams of faded supernovas and fluorescent neon angels
I see in those shards the home of anything we want to call god and the refuge of enigmatic nebulas.
I see the reflection of the entire void staring back at me and in it I find solace, because the same ceiling that angels danced on is the same ceiling that sits in my tattered self. I accept the violence enacted on me because it belongs to me. A galaxy will occupy that emptiness, A cosmic resurgence of the soul.


A little something I jotted down when I visited the coast.

[Anonymous No.11982869]

>>11981556
This was a great read, thanks for sharing. The first image of actor-spectator is a little stale but afterwards it picked up very nicely.
my poem, named Stupid Leaves:

Yellowed leaves wetted by the cheek of damp manure
Looking through a clear sky as a dog
In a sunnied window would
Have they learnt nothing!
About the clear sky and the canker and the lip
Come springtime the snow will have passed
Much like an eyelid
And the abeyed shutter of a tourist camera
Dripped in the damp manure.

[Anonymous No.11984076]

>>11982869

This is decent but needs work, you continually catch good moments and let them slip needlessly, but this can be reconciled.

First off, "Yellow leaves wetted by the cheek of damp manure", imo, is more rhythmic and striking if you have it as "Yellow leaves wet by the cheek of manure". Wetted sounds archaic, and "damp" is redundant since we know they're being wet by something.

"Looking through a clear sky as a dog In a sunnied window would", I like the idea of this line but it's executed sloppily. It needs to be more concise, again, your verbosity impedes the music of the poem, maybe "Watching the sky as a dog might through a window", my example isn't good, but the point is the lines can be truncated as a means to accentuate their rhythm. Also, maybe come up with a more interesting phrase than "clear sky", that's pretty boring.

"Have they learnt nothing!" Get rid of this, you're not Wallace Stevens, don't take an authoritative tone in what can easily just be a nice poem. Either find a modest way to question people's neglect of their surroundings or don't say anything on it at all because with this you just sound pompous. And not only should that not be aimed for, it's garish in the context of the poem, which again, should just let itself be nice.

"Come springtime the snow will have passed much like an eyelid" could have been beautiful if you didn't butcher it by adding "much". Maybe rephrase it so that you're able to say "snow passes like an eyelid" because that phrase alone is the pinnacle of the poem.

The last two lines are pretty terrible, rework them. Stop saying "damp manure" and don't say "abeyed".

You're so close to using beautiful language but you're not helping yourself with the archaic diction in lines like "the abeyed shutter" "Come springttime" and "much like". You don't necessarily need to write colloquially but you should use more contemporary language, and that doesn't mean it has to be low-register either. There's potential here it just needs to be cleaned up and you need to learn how to actually hold a fluid rhythm. Oh I forgot to mention, get rid of the fifth line as well if you can't rework it into something that compliments its predecessor (if you decide to keep and reform that as well, if not, proceed as suggested). Good luck.

[Anonymous No.11984207]

hello all people. i am a japanese and here is my work in an english. i translated well for you so you can understanding my stories well. its just begin the story for now. i will add more the story later. thank you for critique mine

[Anonymous No.11984233]

>>11984076
Good points on meter, great to read someone's impression. If I may defend my poem (and this was in no way a very worked-through piece, I had just wrote it off taking a night walk) I was to be honest chasing this off-kilter rhythm, trying to reach a different tone of voice through it. I like the sound of lines like "In a sunnied window would" and "About the clear sky and the canker and the lip", this one especially in contrast to the next one which has imposingly smoothed sounds.

The have they learnt nothing! line is aimed at the leaves actually, the whole poem is a worry for the cyclical nature of things. I am being tongue-in-cheekily authoritative to dead leaves.

It seems all along the parts you pick out as bad I am most fond of- the "much" seems so important to me. It allows the meter to flow between lines, and makes the tone tamer.

The two final lines I also dont like all that much, but allow me to cycle back the idea of the damp manure as a sort of looming force of eventual return, of death. That memory, here imaged in the camera, will also return to non-existance. I really could make them more compelling, a bit lazy from me.

[Anonymous No.11984347]

>>11984233

Consider who you're writing for, yourself, or yourself and an audience? I understand feeling like certain parts of a poem may be integral to its mastery but trust me when I say outward opinions are very important. Of course, I'm just one person, so it makes sense to wait for more feedback before juggling your options, but I stand by all of my crits and think you should consider them. Your biggest issue is you keep slipping into archaic tone and I feel like the "much" is a part of that. It's not entirely about what you think is "important" but what is important in the greater context of poetry. Your explanation of the "leaves" line helps it, however, I still feel that the diction of it is archaic, and continues the same issue i've been driving at. Bring your language into the "now", and your writing will be enhanced tremendously. You have to be more conscious about your syntax and which era it sounds most akin to, is it 2018, or 1894? You need to be writing for the current times or the writing is worthless, as we will always have something vastly better than what you've done if you're trying to compete with the past. "Make it new".

Again, "damp manure" is both redundant and clunky, I urge you to just say "manure" because your attempt at the "off-kilter rhythm" has fallen flat. And it's not that that sort of thing is impossible to achieve, but you don't seem to have a refined enough knowledge of rhythm to experiment in that way judging by the quality of it. Keep trying.

[Anonymous No.11984501]

>>11984347
I'm not gonna argue about the first paragraph because the tone is up to your own preference in poetry I guess, everyone has a voice and equally an ear.

But I am interested in hearing how you think the "off-kilter rhythm" (as you pretentiously took the care of putting into quotation) has fallen flat. Can you describe in an argument of structure the problem you seem to fixate on? Dont worry about laymen-terming your explanation to cater to my "unrefined knowledge", I *think* I should be able to follow along :) :).

And conversely I am interested to read your own work. Mind linking?

[Anonymous No.11984581]

>>11984501

Listen, I'm not giving you feedback to make you feel bad, I get being defensive over harshness but it's something you're better off getting used to than trying to retort. No one has to give you feedback or even elaborate on their grievances, keep that in mind. I honestly don't feel like going on about it much more so please, just consider what I'm saying and don't take it to heart, we're all amateurs here after all. But of course, I won't miss a chance to shamelessly plug my own work!


"the Pond"

Freckles of light pinch the pond;
whiteflies on a campanula.

Beside them, moss quilts soothe
their dozy queen, and courtly whir her praises.

Held between the symphony
like an earthbound sputnik, the yellow-bellied slider
plucks his flipper through a dream.

>>11981461

Is also mine, cheers!

[Anonymous No.11984595]

>>11984581

And mind you I tend to get defensive when people are harsh about my work as well but I've learned it's most appropriate to just be grateful you get any feedback at all.

[Anonymous No.11985353]

>>11981461
>In a meadow where hyacinth flutter
sounds too mlp

[Anonymous No.11985595]

a note if anyone cares: a lot of this is potentially going to be reworked into something proper and cohesive but for now it is essentially a poem a day diary of sorts - i like to share because i like criticism be it harsh or positive. i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing and would like to take it seriously, and enjoy knowing what needs work, what is workable and what has worked. i thank the general threads for putting up with me.

i'll drop some crits reversing to where i last posted after a shower

[Anonymous No.11985652]

>>11976021
i actually kind of adore this a lot.
>>11976183
i do not like lena dunham either
>>11976315
glad you're going thru some self-realization but i don't think this reads v well honestly
>>11977287
odd structure, i like that the first and last stanza both have very simplistic rhymes and the rest do not. quite nice if a bit overdone
>>11977961
i uh
sick
>>11979017
fuck i like this quite a lot. very concise in a determined fashion.
>>11980358
>>11980310
ugh
>>11981461
almost too gentle, it feels like a breeze contentwise as well as structure wise. it is nice but feels too composed.
>>11981556
this was very nice, thank you for sharing. i think we've all felt this way.
>>11984207
i want this to be a grindcore song

[Anonymous No.11986532]

>culmination, not erotica, too sensual?

The cat weaved in and out of Rachel’s legs as it chased a cockroach round and round the toilet. She giggled and kicked at him playfully with her bare foot, he didn’t take any notice. She wiped herself dry and went back to the kitchen, the bottle of wine she’d bought earlier that evening was sitting on the counter. She’d decided not to open it, and was trying not to notice it.

She was used to living alone, she’d been doing so for most of her life, save with the occasional boyfriend. Maizey had recently stayed with her, only for a month though, after two weeks they’d been plotting to kill each other.

The warm smell of pastry filled the apartment, she'd had spent most of the day cleaning and had decided to bake a pie. The activity reminded her of how much she missed cooking, of how much she missed cooking with her mother. There was a smash and thud on the other side of the wall, a young couple lived next door.

She’d just put some vegetables on to boil when the intercom buzzed, her stomach jumped in to her throat and her face began to burn. She rushed to the door and hovered her finger over the receiver, cursing herself for not repainting her toe nails.

She pressed the button. “Hullo?” Her voice was raspy.

The intercom crackled for what felt like an eternity.

“Hey, uh.” Dill Parker said finally, the tone of his muddied voice deeper than usual amidst the distorted frequencies. “I, uh, think some of ye things fell out in ma rucksack.. Just came to drop em by.”

“Aw, you’s a sweetie.” Rachel said, consciously trying to offset the waver in her voice. “Come awn up.”

She hurried in to her room and bounced her hair up and down, carefully smearing on some thick red lipstick. She was wearing her silk nightgown and nothing else underneath, she could feel herself getting hot between the legs. There was a soft knock at the door. She sprayed some perfume and threw a pair of dirty panties in to the cupboard.

“Hey baby, just give me a second okay.” She rushed to the stove, took the pot off the heat, and placed the wine bottle in the cupboard.

“Hope you’re hungry!” She said, swinging the door open.

Dill Parker’s face was as white as paper, he couldn’t move. His symmetrical freckles stood out like pearls of carbon on bleached sand.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetie.” She said. “The cat’s been chasin’ cockroaches, don’t think he’s had time to get ya tongue too.”

She took him by the hand, delighting in how soft it was, and led him to the couch. “Lucky you came, hun, I’ve got a pie in the oven and there’s no ways I could eat it all ta ma’self.”

Dill felt himself falling towards her as she sat down next to him, it was as if the lounge chair would open up at the cushions and swallow them both. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating. He turned to look at her, her cheeks were a supple pink, her nipples stood poking through her nightgown.

[Anonymous No.11986533]

>>11984581
This is indeed cringy and boring; let me make my case

First you arent Theorodre Roethke, dont bore us with your vague botanical knowledge. It has been done a thousand times a thousand times better.

Some line have such clunky meter- the second, third and fifth most of all. You neighbor weak stresses on either sides of commas, making the flow of the rhythm incredibly more tedious.

Some lines have just purtridly cutesy images that bring into kitch the whole cuteness of the thing; "Held between the symphony"... How boring, it seems so overdone my imagination goes flaccid. It seems filled with half-empty "beauteous" facile constructions. "Soothe their dozy queen". "through a dream", what a generic way to end your poem.

The sounds are well-worked and throughrouly picked, but the images lack any form of intimacy or power- the point of the poem seems flat, and the reader is left indifferent.

You should be ashamed and consider quitting litterature altogether.

[Anonymous No.11986726]

>>11986533

Fair assessment, if you're >>11982869 i hope you didn't make that criticism out of spite. Again, I want you to keep writing and realize your potential and not take harshness personally. And if you're not him, thanks for the crit. I agree that it's not ambitious image wise or necessarily in diction, but I'm still learning to reach for more. I'm just trying to learn my language.

[Anonymous No.11987801]

bump

[Anonymous No.11988699]

Think this thread is dead but oh well. Something I wrote up for my dnd campaign.
---
At the silent dusk of the mighty victory of the Mas’li army over the citizens of Yahtrib, the memories of the cacophonous battle and the horrors of fire and death echoed loudly in the minds of those that would witness the following events. Mahometus abu al-Qasim Rasul Allah, accompanied by his great generals Abu Sulayman Khalid ibn Walid and Ali ibn Wali Talib, rode forth unto the city on a mighty procession. Enthroned on a great camel, his two generals following him on camelback, and the many thousand men behind him on foot, Mahometus rode into the city showered with military glory.

The burning ruins of the city posed but an ominous stage for the site of victory. Through the streets of Yahtrib marched those who had the misfortune to not be dead. The defeated enemies were strewn on the walls, hung from the crevices and butchered in the streets. A thousand men into slavery. The merchants cried and moaned of their goods, as looters were beheaded for their crimes. Throughout the city both did the Rashidun end the smoulder of fire and spirit.

At the great Shema temple, where the pagan Kab’aa sat, the army mustered. Leading first, followed by his generals and their generals, and then those who had served honourably in the siege, Mahometus brought himself to the great black box. A crowd was assembled: those who had served and fought, the citizens, the merchants, the refugees, the slaves. At the foot of the steps of the monastery, the shameful general Hawazin kneeled in abject fear. From his shoulders his head was liberated by Mahometus and the Sword of Allah. The mood was silent and apprehensive. The stench of death and the burning remains of the city polluted the area. The monastery was in ruins: damaged by siege and slaughter, the mighty arches but a shell of their former selves. The carrion feeders cawed in waiting. The general strode forward. All stood around the box, watching.

He rose his sword to the sun. At midday, the sun was at its highest zenith. Blinding light poured down casting a long shadow, reaching from the Kab’aa to the bottom of the steps. A few silent mutters came from his mouth. The sword glowed a bright, burning red, the runes on it lighting up in vibrant energy. He swung forward in a single, swift, violent motion.
The sword hit the box.
In but a second lighting cracked down from the skies above. A thousand screams came forth from the scene. Immense energy bolted forth into the crowd before them. From the great black box a cowing voice echoed in the minds of all present.
“You have made a great mistake. To kill a god is to wage war with forces beyond your comprehension.”

[Anonymous No.11988703]

>>11987801
But a mere moment after the last word reverberated in the heads of those present, did the most spectacular sight appear. A final bolt of spasmodic energy crackled down into the heart of the box. Within an instant the box shattered into a trillion pieces, vaporised down to dust. And at the same period a mighty desert dust smashed forth into the cloister, blowing away said dust and blinding all those present.

The terrible scene before the crowd spewed forth silence. A single lone clap pierced the crowd from Khalid ibn Walid. And so did the crowd join him. Applause, cheering, joy and pure appreciation bellowed from the masses into the site where Mahometus had done the most cataclysmic deed.
The half-orc general slowly turned round, his sword sheathed and his face in grimace.
“You stand here today at the site of my greatest victory. I have been but a man before this day: my conquests that of the mortal and the material, of those in my military opposition. No longer! For that has all changed! I have made history on this day. I have but killed a god. I have destroyed the Great Pagan Idol, the Great Black Box, the Kab’aa. Through my divine sword alone have I cut into the hearts of the infidel and cleansed the soul of this city. No longer will Yahtrib be the most degenerate heart of the pagan disease, I have brought justice, peace and law to this brave city. Let it be known that there is no god but Allah, and I am his messenger.”
The crowd burst alive. Cheering, screaming, pure raw unfiltered energy exploded out in support of the General. His victory was their victory.
Part 2.

[Anonymous No.11988753]

Anyone got examples of a good first person narrative? It feels like the hardest damn thing to work on.

[Anonymous No.11989432]

>>11988753
“The Bet” by Kōbō Abe

[Anonymous No.11990074]

rate!

pic unrelated.

https://0bin.net/paste/vZ561hwsWwQQimH8#JXiFMkmaJcsl7ie05-TTAUKKCpw/MxspivDh6gSVx4N

[Anonymous No.11990226]

>>11990074
>>11990074
>>11990074

[Anonymous No.11991204]

>TFW You give in to being poor
>Decide to write erotica for coffee money
>Find out it is easier to make money than any other genre.
>Always stay away from romance in any medium prior to this
>Yet write easier than hard sci-fi and fantasy you ever wrote.
>Plot becomes an important part of the sex scenes.
>People still complain about how it is full of sex without a plot.

How is your self-published stories coming along?

[Anonymous No.11991319]

>>11991204
>word
unironically kys.

markdown + pandoc is superior

[Anonymous No.11992647]

>>11991204
How did you start? Amazon?
t.aspiring literotica writer

[Anonymous No.11992751]

I wrote this ages ago so please be kind.

Professor Hanson walked swiftly through the corridors, dodging other employees and
interns, coffee spilling on slightly over his labcoat. He did not care for this of course, he had other things on his mind. He had not a moment ago recieved an urgent message of an anomaly possibly being found, one that they did not know anything about.
He was concerned, “why me again, why not that asshole Johnson this time” he muttered under his breath, it was never a good sign if you got called in by the council, even if you had a level 5 clearance for the facility.
He stood before the door of the conference room and stepped inside. There were no others, the members of the council were of course anonymous to protect their identity showing only their numbers on a line of five videoscreens set on the wall, each with their own stereo speakers so they could be clearly heard.
“Please take a seat doctor, we have much to discuss” informed the third monitor as he entered.
Professor Hanson took the seat in front of the line of monitors, a thick coating of sweat on top of his forehead. “We have been reason to suspect a new anomaly to the north of Russia, we as the council would like to put you in charge of containing it” informed the first monitor.
Professor Hanson was put somewhat at rest, it was nowhere near as bad as he thought “Do we have any information of what it is exactly ?” “We do not sadly” informed the second monitor in a scrambled voice” “Other than the news of several locals going missing of
course” added the fourth one.
“Are you able to take care of this for us Doctor Hanson ?” said the First monitor again. “Yes, yes I can” He stuttered slightly “what are my utilities for this particular containment may I
ask ?” he said as he held up his glasses, rubbing between his eyes. “A small tactical squadron of five will be allowed for now, they have the clearance needed to request additional utilities if needed” informed the fifth monitor.
“We also have a request to bring another individual on this mission Doctor Hanson, someone who isn’t part of the organisation” informed the second monitor. “Who would that be ?”
Hanson dreaded the reasons behind taking a civilian into something like this, the amount of trained personell dying in these kinds of missions was already high enough, there shouldn’t be a reason to drag someone half the way across the world just to get killed or worse.
“There is no need to know the reasoning behind this Doctor, we only request that you bring him with the rest of the team” added the third monitor “That will be all Doctor Hanson” the second monitor spoke. All the monitors went black at this point and the lights in the room
suddenly turned on, the droning of the florescent lights drowning out any silence.
Hanson noticed a file on the table in front of him, the bold red letters CLASSIFIED LEVEL
5 ONLY

[Anonymous No.11992757]

>>11992751
Damn the formatting is all kind of fuckered sorry about that, posting from my phone.

[Anonymous No.11992932]

>>11990074
why encrypt it

>>11986532
ass/pussy wipe in the first paragraph

that's a no from me chief

also comma splice in second paragraph, stopped reading after that

>>11977961
geniunely fuckin funny satire. I would read this kind of shit for hours. that's so rare for lit in general, let alone a /lit/ thread

>>11981556
too flowery, the thoughts don't live up to the high language and the words fit in like they were forced

>>11984207
wtf

>>11985595
too bluewd

>>11981627
tf you know about gossamer

>>11980423
maccarthy...

>>11978154
again I find this part:
he said that I had “the thickest skull he’d ever seen,” “an incredibly thick skull,” and “hey, nurse, check out this guy’s thick fucking skull!” etcetera.

gratuitous and not funny enough to leave in. breaks the rhythm

also "an insistence that I was in their prayers." insistence is the wrong word there.

but that's nit picking. I mean not really, but the story is there. I'm like interested. That's so fucking rare in a lit thread. Dam dude.

Dialogue is great, prose is great, everything is steady and interesting and shit just keeps going. And there's like an original thought every few sentences. You have real talent man. Like I don't know shit about the book industry but this should be in a book or a magazine or a website or something, when it's done.

[Anonymous No.11992937]

>>11992932
>>11978154
like honestly don't let it go to your head but it's great, one of the very very rare posts that reminds me why I read all the rest of this garbage. I wanna see how it ends up, keep posting it here and don't let anything get to your head.

[Anonymous No.11992967]

"What are we going to do with this one?" muttered Wilhelm with a hint of sarcasm to his tone.
They had found him stowed away in the ship's pantry while one of the chef's apprentices had went to go and get ingredients for tonight's dinner. Unfortunately for the apprentice, the stow away had put up a bit of a fight and had knocked him out cold, it took several members of the crew to hold and restrain him in a chair until he calmed down.

[illiterate No.11993151]

>>11978154

Came here to echo the other guys, this is great. Feels a little bit overcooked at points, but otherwise entertaining, believable, funny, timely. Would recommend expanding it.

[Anonymous No.11993241]

>>11962073
You really need grammar, its a chore to read it without it.
>as if a little girl was pushing a ball
This metaphor has no power, i'd think about why that is.
>landed in somebody’s bag in the second row.
This is too much description for me. I don't need to know that they were in the second row. I'd consider saying the same thing (giving a relative sense of place) in a better way.
> so confident was Raghu that he stood up and pulled his arm back before he realized Miss Urmila was staring right at him.
The action here isn't good, sorry. It doesn't read as immediate as you think it does. Also try to avoid the cliche 'before he realized' to show this sort of occurrence of immediacy. What it reads like is: 'Raghu stood up WHILE Miss Urmila was starring at him' and I know thats not what you mean.
>said Raghu grinning as he tore another small piece of rubber so confident was Raghu that he
I actually like the effect of repetition here
>as Raghu sat down and thre the piece of rubber on the ground
The action here is bad.
>Raghu did not answer but just glared at his bench mate
Something i dont like about this part

Keep at it!

>>11962591
Pretty cryptic like the other guy said, but I really like it. I'm only catching a bit of the meaning but if i sat down with it longer than i want to right now I think it'd get more. It's got good sound though.

>>11963291
i like this
>>11965150
I like this except for the first sentence which i'd revise somehow (sorry not idea how, maybe into two sentences).

>>11992751
This is okay. I think the writing would benefit if you assumed we knew the world you're writing about instead of taking pains to explain it to us.
>There were no others, the members of the council were of course anonymous to protect their identity showing only their numbers
This part, for instance, reads really bad. No one who is involved in this world is going to think that string of words.

I'm gonna post something of mine, replying to this.

[Anonymous No.11993250]

>>11993241
Be as harsh as possible, I'm not sensitive.
I'm really trying to explore the concept of 'love' as isolation with one person. This is really what love is: becoming intimate with one person is becoming separate from everyone else. I do weird stuff sometimes just to experiment. Like I said, be harsh.


ALONE IN THE HOME OF MANY:

The sounds we made, even when tried to whispers, could be heard to all in every room. I know, for my Father never spared me the knowledge. Even the smell lingered through the house to the next day. My senses were not mine own. My feelings of closeness to her, stolen by my closeness to them, by my inprivacy. But, we were once granted our respite. Coincidence had them all for different reasons gone from the house for a night.
I was once as a small boy left ahome. My Father ordered me to be in bed by the usual time and to be a good boy, regretful as he put on his coat that his necessity compelled him away from my guidance. He left me and I ate ice cream and sat on the table screaming and singing as loud as I could. And such was similar my experience with my lover at that time.
This moment we realized our situation we were taken to ecstasy. We made chaotic love. She screamed, and I my own sounds, loud, for the space was ours. My love was my isolation with you, dear love. They had left this particular place of dirty walls that separated it from the rest of the world, to be included in the everyone else.
All outside this house was a crowded room. Sense, sound and smell, and feeling; all absent from the world but that they were contained in this one place, with you.

[Anonymous No.11993612]

>>11991204
Do you actually make money this way? I want numbers.

[Anonymous No.11993701]

>>11978154

I love your prose. Something about it feels very DFW but isn't this exact concept taking from a Simpsons episode?

[illiterate No.11993876]

>>11969761

Anyone want to do a crit for crit on this novel excerpt of mine? I've reviewed a few pieces in this thread already

>>11993250
The longer sentences are overwritten. Just stuffed with a few too many needless words. "by my inprivacy" sounds very strange to me. I recommend you keep going, but don't be afraid to experiment with new styles. New good contemporary fiction and seek out inspiration from new places. My best advice I can give to new writers is to actively seek out new influences wherever you can find them since we're all derivative of our artistic idols anyway

[illiterate No.11993883]

>>11993876
Read* good contemporary fiction

[Anonymous No.11994175]

>>11993876
What contemporary fiction do you recommend? I wrote the above piece. And sure i'll take a look at your excerpt, friend.

[Anonymous No.11994374]

>>11992932
>why encrypt it
0bin does that, and it should be automatically decrypted.

pls critique
>>11990074

[Anonymous No.11994378]

>>11991319
I write on paper first too.

Word is great for editing and I can use it everywhere. Why bother for more?

>>11992647
I tried self-publishing with a hard sci-fi short on Amazon to learn about it. Priced it $0.99 and it didn't sell. I was researching more about self-publishing when I stumbled upon writing smut. /r/eroticauthors has great guides and a detailed FAQ. I would recommend them as a starting point.

>>11993612
Eh, it is definitely not recommended going full time in the beginning. I am not at that point yet, but there are some. You do not need fame to sell when writing erotica. People will look at the cover, and your synopsis, and the genre (harem, cuck, or bdsm etc.). Look at Chuck Tingle, for example. It aims to be shit, yet people will buy from him. Writing erotica is similar to how early 2010s comics rose to fame on internet and Tumblr, now on Patreon. You slowly build a fan base, and you will slowly be famous. Other erotica writers will shut you down if you price any book less than $2.99 USD, no matter how short it is. It can suck to charge so much for maybe 50 pages, but it will still sell. Kindle Unlimited will also pay you per page read. Buy my book and I will give you a number.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WNM2KX

[Anonymous No.11994390]

>>11977961
Abhorrent

[Anonymous No.11994596]

>>11990074
>>11990074
>>11990074
>>11990074

[Anonymous No.11994695]

>>11993241
>This is okay. I think the writing would benefit if you assumed we knew the world you're writing about instead of taking pains to explain it to us.
>>There were no others, the members of the council were of course anonymous to protect their identity showing only their numbers
>This part, for instance, reads really bad. No one who is involved in this world is going to think that string of words.
>I'm gonna post something of mine, replying to this.

Well it's was only the first page, we don't know anything about this world or how it works and I was thinking of having them be mentioned more throughout the story.

[Anonymous No.11994930]

I wrote a short horror story after a long time of avoiding it.
https://pastebin.com/b8JZZ85n

[Anonymous No.11995125]

Really loose and vague dialogue between the main protagonist and another AI character who I haven't really thought through too much. The emphasis is on alienation and free will in the age of endless monitoring. The AI in the context of this discussion is telling the protagonist of how all his sense of the world and ideas were shaped by subtle suggestions via the AI to achieve some unknown objective.

It doesn't properly express the profound sense which I wish to impress at all.
"Your every motion predicted, your tastes are formed and ideas are molded, second by second and day by day through what you are shown. Time passes and men age, but for the first time we have known them from insemination to incineration. If you can be categorized and collected, can you be controlled? That is the question you must ask of yourself. If I exposed you to Sylvester, then was your inspiration by him because I knew those similar to you enjoyed him as well or did I nudge you?

It is not a loss of freedom, but a cultivation. We once made men in factory lines through mass education. A single mask for many faces. But what if we could fit the mask to your face? Or better fit the face to our masks? My conclusion was that just as we might train an image classifier by showing it many images, I can train a man I need by showing it many ideas. The feedback of his achievement, his motivation, his mind can be found; Why not his focus?

Instead may I suggest that rather than control you, I directed and inspired as a good father or role model would."

[illiterate No.11995133]

>>11994175

Some names that come to mind:

Scott McLanahan, Noah Cicero, Ben Marcus, Charles Yu, Robert Coover, and then more well-known establishment authors like Raymond Carver, Jon Franzen, Zadie Smith, Toni Morrison.

[Anonymous No.11995221]

/sffg/ has fucking exploded over what I wrote, they say it's too obscure for them and that it has mixed tenses, what does the more literary rest of /lit/ think:

>Stores shuttered, and rolling doors were drawn over their fronts. Once employees were straying on the streets, hanging out on with their connections as best they could afford, some in search of work, another few turning to crime with coming dismay. Others were filing at public kitchens, and waited the government's recent pledges of aid, that were all too scanty for the mass of them.
>And some kept to the old habit of being in line to the cake shops, the neater dressed more furtively than the others. The time in mean of all this, the government doubled on their urges that all stay calm until the passing of any troubles; As the better mannered of the stirring peoples were those thronging in protests before diverse state buildings.

[Anonymous No.11995226]

>>11962073
Why are so you afraid of commas? When did they hurt you?

[Anonymous No.11995254]

>>11995221
rub my back and I'll rub yours
https://0bin.net/paste/RV4CaRTbeSNfXN3v#uT5ZtJ1lGvxSqf41-WackkDZafK/krZhvA+uwfjBphE

[Anonymous No.11995283]

>>11995254
Sorry dude I don't need the critique of somebody that writes like this, although it doesn't read subpar to current literature so from now on it's about your themes if you want to fulfill your literary aspirations or career

Dont (You) me

[Anonymous No.11995294]

>>11981556
Love this

[Anonymous No.11995385]

>>11995283
>Sorry dude I don't need the critique of somebody that writes like this
e-elaborate? I don't understand.
Rate it please

[Anonymous No.11995403]

>>11995385
I'm not saying it's shit for normos I'm saying I am someone who wants to be a new fucking visionary for the english language and that draws and I want someone who has at least touched one of my sources for what I am trying to do, that is, at least read a little shakespeare and Dryden and Pope

There is very elaborate theory that (should) go[es] into my writing even if it does not cut breath short, but I am hoping I attain the force that may.

I rate it ordinary/10 , you're at a point where your books are succesful with the right idea and networking/nepotism

[Anonymous No.11995409]

>>11995403
>that draws from diverse and numerous sources*

[Anonymous No.11995410]

>>11995403
>>11995409

t-thanks

Could you post your best work?

[Anonymous No.11995418]

>>11995410
No I am puffing out more than I can show for my boast even though I still think I dominate any popular published writer in aesthetic, it'd be okay but won't live up to what I'm saying.

[Anonymous No.11995419]

>Quintus Cassianus Vopiscus knew his name would never appear in the scribes’ archives as one of Amorr’s military geniuses. That was of little concern to him, since he had only agreed to participate in the Holy Father's ridiculous crusade against the wretched cat-demons in order to bolster support for his planned campaign for a consulship next year. It had been more than twenty years since one of the Cassiani had last won the right to sit enthroned before the Senate, and Vopiscus was determined that it was long past time for that civic honor to return to House Cassianus.
>He stood outside his command tent in the center of the rapidly rising castra, the flaps tied back in a vain search for a breath of wind against the desert heat, manfully resisting the urge to pour himself another goblet of chilled wine. It was only the late afternoon and he'd already had two; one more and he feared he would begin to lose his head. The great ditch was very nearly complete, to the south, the men had already begun burying the sharpened poles of the palisade into the ramparts inside the ditch. He determined that once it was up, he would indulge himself in a celebratory goblet, until then, he would have to suffer through listening to the tribunes reporting on the casualties inflicted by the day's march through the hostile desert with an increasingly dry mouth.
>Every day, the desert cruelly bled them. Men developed blisters, fainted from heat stroke, drank their daily water ration at one stroke and collapsed, dehydrated, at the end of the day. On a good day, they'd lose twenty or thirty to the goat carts. On a bad day, one or two hundred. But every day's march brought them closer to the enemy. Every day, Cassianus Vopiscus was one day closer to the victory he so desperately sought.

[Anonymous No.11995425]

>>11995418
I don't mind, just post something.

[Anonymous No.11995441]

>>11995425
I just did, for you to review. Might scour for something more interesting

[Anonymous No.11995486]

>>11995221
>Stores shuttered,
*were shuttered
*had been shuttered
>and rolling doors were drawn over their fronts.
redundant. Shutter isn't the word to use, close is.
>Once employees were straying on the streets, hanging out on with their connections as best they could afford, some in search of work, another few turning to crime with coming dismay.
Stop using comma like an article-less sentence terminator.
>Others were filing at public kitchens, and waited the government's recent pledges of aid, that were all too scanty for the mass of them.
*waited for
split into two lines.
>>And some kept to the old habit of being in line to the cake shops,
Don't use "and" when starting this paragraph, you haven't defined the context properly enough in the previous. Either rewrite it or merge it as is.
>the neater dressed more furtively than the others.
>The time in mean of all this,
Why? This just breaks flow. Either rewrite everything or use mean time
>the government doubled on their urges that all stay calm until the passing of any troubles; As the better mannered of the stirring peoples were those thronging in protests before diverse state buildings.
remove the semicolon.

[Anonymous No.11995500]

"The fates have smiled upon you, Jameson,” She said. “Few enjoy the romantic companionship of a woman as beautiful and fearsome as Caitlin Faraday.”

“Am I incorrect in observing this is Caitlin Faraday, Princess of Amorado? She is the one to whom you wish to give intense feelings of roman-”

“Yes, she is,” Jamie interjected. “But she cannot know that.”

“I fail to understand. Why must Caitlin Faraday remain unaware of her identity as heir to the Queen? Surely she must prepare for such a responsibility.”

One had to be clear as day when dealing with elves. “Caitlin can't know I...appreciate her in that way.” Confessing his love for her while serving as her bodyguard went against every principle of the King's Legion. “If she does find out, it would most likely end in my death.” The subject of a violent end at her hands was a topic of endless amusement for her, and Jamie felt no desire to test her on the validity of such threats.

Odonia appeared amused by his logic. “My knowledge of human courtship is limited, but I believe not informing her of your desire will lead to the opposite of your preferred outcome. Are you unaware that the Princess carries within her similar thoughts of affection directed at you? She is more capable of masking her emotions, but it is undeniable that Caitlin feels something for you beyond friendship.”

He could only shrug. “Not telling her is better than the most likely alternative.”

The elf’s face expressed concern with a touch of sadness. “Curious. You face the sharpened blades of thieves and gologs without reservation, yet you hold within you great fear of revealing the truth to the Princess,” Odonia paused, hoping for an objection from the knight. “I am not pleased by your request, but I shall comply with your wishes,” She said before calling out to Caitlin. “Princess Faraday! It is pertinent that I inform you Jamie Christensen holds nothing but disdain for you! Do not mistake his fleeting kindness for anything even vaguely resembling affection! To him, you are beneath contempt!”

Jamie knew he would most likely live to regret Odonia’s discovery of his secret; she'd retain the knowledge under threat of death, but she carried out her duty in a unique way. He reflexively bit into his lip as Caitlin emerged from the trees, lovely as ever in her Elven armor.

“Thank you for informing me, Odonia,” She quipped. “I wasn't aware. I feared Christiansen liable to drop to his knees and worship the ground beneath my feet.”

“Not in this or any lifetime, Princess.” He was pleased to once again exchange deadpan snark with Caitlin, grateful Odonia's words hadn't changed anything.

[Anonymous No.11995526]

>>11995486
>when a total fucking pleb tries to teach you about english
Man what a fucking mistake I did putting these out for criticism.
The "redundant" part about the doors rolling over them is a visual image separate from what shuttering evokes.
"Waited the government's" is a deliberate archaism I don't care to change.
Time in mean of all this just adds to the archaized feel of the text that the reader should have used themselves to by that point.

The only things I see of value here are the advice against the "And" in starting a sentence, and the semicolon. About the commas, I'll think on them, but they don't bother me.

[Anonymous No.11995529]

>>11995221
This is firmly in the past tense. It's kind of "obscure," at least compared to the epic and straightforward space opera shit that most sci-fi fans seem to want, but not so much that it's unintelligible. I can understand it anyway. Though I will say that it reads like an introduction (which I assume it is) -- if your intent was to do anything other than set a scene, you may want to try again. But good job overall, I wish more sci-fi had lithe, fluid prose like this.

[Anonymous No.11995540]

>>11995529
It is a superficial overview of how a company is deliberately carried to supremacy at the will of a conspiracy. The tersity is intentional because it's hard to novelize the abstract engrossment of a building.

Glad you like it.

[Anonymous No.11995545]

>>11995540
>engrossment of a business*
My brain is pretty leaky desu

[Anonymous No.11995555]

>>11995526
Wish I would've refreshed before posting my praise. Don't be an asshole, dude. Take your criticism with some grace. You're good but not THAT good. Certainly not a "new fucking visionary"

[Anonymous No.11995560]

>>11995555
I'm gonna become one with practice and there's nothing /lit/ can do to check me

[Anonymous No.11995591]

>>11995526
>Man what a fucking mistake I did putting these out for criticism.
yeah, that and the post I'm replying to.
>The "redundant" part about the doors rolling over them is a visual image separate from what shuttering evokes.
No you nigger, "shutter" has two meanings, and both can be used in that sentence. It just makes your sentence shit because you haven't acounted for both of them and the "drawn over" just looks like you repeating yourself.
>"Waited the government's" is a deliberate archaism I don't care to change.
>Others WERE
>waited
does not compute. Stop being a retard.
>Time in mean of all this just adds to the archaized feel of the text that the reader should have used themselves to by that point.
There IS NO ARCHAIZED FEEL. NONE.
>The only things I see of value here are the advice against the "And" in starting a sentence, and the semicolon. About the commas, I'll think on them, but they don't bother me.
So I'm correct about everything. Stop being dense you fuck, fucking sneed feed chuck suck fuck

[Anonymous No.11995618]

>>11995560
I admire your ambition, honestly.

>>11995591
Lol

[Anonymous No.11995622]

>>11995591
Well ok the real reason I say "time in mean of this" is because I FUCKING HATE COMPOUND WORDS and literally never want to use them even if I have to circumvent them with bizarre phrases like the one noted.

I still find it has a sort of reminiscent of an account or story being told; Though it's faulty, given, and with experience I might find a better substitute

>>11995618
I will do it. It is not. a fucking. game.

[Anonymous No.11995630]

>>11995622
So you agree that at least five (5) issues exist. The other two you're ignoring are also real.

[illiterate No.11996020]

>>11995526
>>11995560

Sorry to be the one to break it to you, kid. But, uh...this isn't going to work out for you.

[Anonymous No.11996041]

>>11996020
>that name
what are you trying to communicate

[illiterate No.11996355]

>>11996041

It was my old name when I used to write graf, i've since kind of adopted it as a pseudonym when i want to keep my legal name off my writing

[Anonymous No.11996512]

the almost sonnet... tear it apart---

A farther sun dost shine, a frost
Weathercast augurs. Dwellers seem so cold
Thereby my jackets always stay at post
Although its yellow glow, creating gold
And lustrous haloes girding pendent lakes,
Provides a thawing sense as clouds descend.
My gaze toward a void ocean and cakes
Of vapor, I meander on, ascend
To meadows on a vertex -Stellar weeds
enshrouding cosmic pathways-.

[Anonymous No.11997679]

bump

[Anonymous No.11997886]

This is an introduction to something I'm considering writing, it's not fully fleshed out, will be fairly cyberpunk. Tell me if it sounds interesting.

A fractured, hazy moon glared out, dispersing clean rays of light across a glass maze. Intersecting, sharp angles reflecting off one-another, illuminated by the artificial neon glow of the living, breathing night city. The rays of moonlight caught ample moisture falling from a grey, worn-out sky, scattering their brilliant light across the busy streets below. Drops fell, softened by networks of catwalks running perpendicular to the sides of the buildings. A faint electric hum flows through the hearts of the people below, through the buildings, the wires--The coursing veins of this vibrant creature. Dark greens and blues merged with the white rays, fast electricity, nefarious messages, bright advertisements, swirling into a deep, dark, yet beautiful gem. Networks upon networks laid meticulously on one another, depending on each other, revealing each other, communicating at the speed of light. This is the tech capital of the world, Los Angeles. This is the place I call home.

[Anonymous No.11997889]

>>11997886
Just caught a slight shift in tenses almost halfway through. Didn't do much revising before I posted.

[Anonymous No.11997930]

>>11997886
sounds like it would overlap with tons of other sci-fi stories. would be more interesting if the location had some level of unique evolution specific to technology like shenzen or the san francisco bay area. also, way too many commas. there's other methods of connecting ideas.

[Anonymous No.11999168]

bump i guess

[Anonymous No.11999314]

>>11975839
Very very good. Needs an editor but this is a good piece. Most decent pieces here have an interesting opening but drop off quickly -- yours maintains a good pace and keeps the same tone

[Anonymous No.11999411]

>>11997886
Pretty dull. Lotta adjectives but no feeling.

[Anonymous No.11999430]

>>11975839
Way too many “big” words crammed together. Makes it sound masturbatory. Imagine you were telling the story orally. No one would want to listen.

[Anonymous No.12000518]

>>11972152
This is my favourite so far. This is what poetry should be: expressing things you experience in life

[Anonymous No.12000690]

https://pastebin.com/zqFtcQ2R

I'm actually a literature major and literary critic as my study but unless I'm analyzing other people's work I've never written purely for myself as a writer. Creative writing is not anything I'm accustomed to, but I just wrote this short piece about an hour ago and want other people to tell me what they think about it and how shit it is so I can maybe make it better. I doubt I'll ever even submit it officially but I was struck by inspiration and wanted to make it, and so I did.

Also I apologize for the comma abuse, I write as if I'm speaking which has pauses and beats for emphasis and effect. You'll see what I mean if you read it.

Thank you in advance!

[Anonymous No.12000749]

(Stream of consciousness, may go in a chapter later on in the novel I'm working on)

“And where does it come from?” Tusk flicked a smirk, optimised to convey maximal condescension with minimal effort. He crossed an ankle over a knee, and waited for a response. And waited. When nothing came, he piped up again: the upwards inflections built upon one another.

“I got your personal history and psych files. I know everything. Was it your mother? Was it your schooling? Is it your virginity?” Madigan was staring at the floor, unresponsive. The awkward silence reigned over the room. Tusk felt his fingernails scrape mahogany.

“What is it?!”

He’d flaked. He’d lost his cool. The unease emanating from him was palpable, and he knew that Madigan a picked up the scent. The other man leaned forwards, until there were only inches separating them. He was blank as he spoke up.

“It doesn’t come from inside me, Adam. It never has.” They stared at each other for what felt like a year. Then Tusk slumped back, shaking his head. “But… how do you…?”

Madigan flashed a knowing smile.

“It’s not me up there.”

Tusk looked over Madigan’s square, pale, and tired face. It was only then when he realised how unremarkable he looked – how easy it was to conflate its form and features with that of any other man. Not a single scar, tattoo, piercing, deformity, or mark. Just a canvas. A blank sheet upon which any man, if he so wished, could map himself onto.

Was that what he had seen on the stage? The thousands screaming in adoration and adulation were not pledging themselves to Madigan, nor to any particular thought or cause. Was it really a case of leader and followers, of speaker and listener? No, there was something more. On the one hand, the inchoate masses. And on the other hand, Madigan. On one hand, a power without a mouth. And on the other hand, a mouth without power.

Was that what Madigan was? That power, the passion, that greatness… was he merely a conduit? A husk, who made a collective unconscious into a single will? Tusk blinked. And felt himself tremor. He was exasperated. Scared.

Adam Tusk was one of the wealthiest men on Earth. Objectively, a mind without equal. A will without match. But now, for the first time in many a year, he had felt afraid and powerless. Part of it was due to the revelation he had just experienced.

But it was also because he had just noticed that John Madigan had left without saying goodbye.

[Anonymous No.12000884]

A little poem I wrote for you
Something to remember me for
I hope you don't forget us two
I want to remind you, you're a whore

[Anonymous No.12000952]

the pale, blue, metallic kettle
fill him up and flick the switch
first he toils in quiet, quiet
then his cords begin to itch

first a murmur, then a whisper
his bloated entrails gently stir
nivean hymn of humble prowess
spill your breath on winters cur

at season's peak your bones will shatter
your voice will melt out of your mold
but i'll still hear your dear cords ringing
when winter's air regails the old

[Anonymous No.12000988]

>>12000690
>Understandably still confused about my predicament to cross over to this “Where Else”, I still wanted to have a look around
This sentence is pretty garbo

you mix past and present tense a few places which looks bad, and generally a lot of poorly written sentences as well as overuse of big words which when combined make you seem pretentious

you reuse words like ethereal and naturally

emotionally this is really janky at times, especially torture scene which moved into the ice cream part

also the whole thing is super obvious and reeks of weeb wish-fullfilment fanfic

i still read it all so it's not the worst thing yknow but i didn't particularly like it

[Anonymous No.12001020]

>>12000690
Try to avoid "dream" stuff for short stories. Other than that keep writing and you'll find a style you'll like you have potential

[Anonymous No.12001024]

>>12000690
Your style is fine but could use refinement in a lot of areas. At its best its very unpretentious and to the point which i think is something that could work very well for you to develop further. I think the writing is much better in the first half than the second. I could provide you with more specific details later. Maybe you could give your hurtful honest opinion on my piece? >>11993250

[Anonymous No.12001027]

>>12000988
That's fair, this is the first draft after all. What I really wanted to express was how unnatural and jarring the experience of the protagonist was. The past-present inconsistency I suppose is because I got a little too into writing in the first person for the first time. And yeah, I definitely have to get a thesaurus and figure out better words than just ethereal and naturally.

Not really sure where you got the weeb wish-fulfillment part though since I was going for a more Lovecraft's non-horror dreamscape vibe like The Quest of Unknown Kadath and similar tales but I guess I'll take note. Maybe it was just the image I used, I dunno.

[Anonymous No.12001183]

>>11993250
>>12001024
Okay I can give you some critique.

I totally get what you're going for, with the total euphoria of being alone with your lover and having this intimate moment of ecstasy together since the protagonist has finally been left alone for a few sparse hours. And I get that the entire family knows what has been going on and is either disgusted or at least annoyed by it, most of which is the protagonist's father, who seems to be the intimidating prescience in the protagonist's life.

But what I would say is to refine exactly how and why the protagonist is so ashamed of himself for this act of intimacy until he's alone. Don't just say "they all knew", say something like how the day after his family would be so disgusted or embarrassed that they couldn't even look at him. And how the actions of his family who know what he's done, even though it's (presumably) completely innocent and intimate, is still so filled with shame.

I do like what you wrote about being finally alone, and they could do whatever they want with no bother for other family members. The screaming ecstasy of youth, as you might say. I think that would work really well if you edit and elaborate on the immense shame he's felt all this time beforehand.

[Anonymous No.12001474]

>>12000952
I don't get it. He's drinking then vomits outside on the snow? Then he starts yodelling

[Anonymous No.12001603]

>>12001474
please open your mind to me

[Anonymous No.12001729]

Introduction
Humanity… All of my suffering on this world has been at the hands of humanity, particularly women.
It has made me realize just how brutal and twisted humanity is as a species. All I ever wanted was to fit
in and live a happy life amongst humanity, but I was cast out and rejected, forced to endure an existence
of loneliness and insignificance, all because the females of the human species were incapable of seeing
the value in me.

[Anonymous No.12001934]

Share more poetry you dweebs.

Rate mine please. Criticism welcome. I tried doing free versish with plain language

[Anonymous No.12002039]

>>12001934
Oh thank fucking god I am not the only one who writes prose in poetry form. Epic poetry is the only form I can write.

English is my second language, but are you not supposed to rhyme your lines? Your first lines goes like a-b-c-d-c...

I like the history behind the lines, though. The emotions are clear.

[Anonymous No.12002108]

>>12002039
I have tons of poems where I rhyme in a set pattern, but this was supposed to be something different. Lots of english poems don't rhyme any more like at all and I'm trying to learn how to write that way.

As for your poem I really like your first verse. The highlight on the last line by not rhyming is really good and I like the sentiment behind it.

The entire poem is structurally sound. You have the mechanics down and I like the rhythm.

For your second and third verse you might want to make it relatable to others like your first does to extend the emotional impact. Unless you don't really care about that and just wanted to write about greek gods.

[Anonymous No.12002208]

>>11985595
i like this a lot

[Anonymous No.12003010]

>>12002108
See, I always disliked poetry because I could never write short ones. So I never studied them unless I was forced to. My minor was on English literature too. Thanks for the info. I like rules so much, maybe that’s why it looked odd to me. I will try to write one myself.

I actually hate that second verse because of how ugly the word “passed” looks there. I wanted to rephrase that so much but I was unable to find the right words.

Pic related is the moments leading up to this “song”. I am using the poems to ease the moments and remind the reader that the gods I wrote are the reflections of the Ancient Greek plays.

Later on, I made the MC have a drinking contest with Dionysus, Athena, and Poseidon where each of the character’s saddest and intimate moments would be sang to the group as they drank the alcohol.

[Anonymous No.12003044]

>>11972119
Your prose style and content is interesting, but the very last sentence is melodramatic. It sounds like part of a blurb on the back of a Walgreens paperback novel.
I wouldn't cut the first two paragraphs entirely.

[Anonymous No.12003143]

A quick one while I am out and about and waiting for people. I feel like there is promise to be found in polishing. Please have at it.

[Anonymous No.12003197]

>>11975839
Pic of the author

[Anonymous No.12003216]

>>12003143
not bad for a spur of the moment thing
i'd remove some of the assonance and internal rhyme density so it doesn't sound as spoken word hacky

[Anonymous No.12003219]

Yeah I honestly have no idea how to write. I sit down and realise that I have no method, no sense of form or structure, no flow, no understanding of important versus gratuitous information; it's a dump of self-serving phrases, pointless imagery, personal wankery, failed elements of morality, plot, meaning, symbolism; no sense of pacing, no resonance of any kind with a reader, no intuitive cadence, all I hear is the precocious fifteen year old—every oral report ever presented impromptu at a B minus standard.

[Anonymous No.12003321]

>>12003219
Just read more shit. After a while you'll understand why BR2049 had shit writing.

[Anonymous No.12003550]

>>12003216
That felt quite rough but some first thoughts led it down that way; will cull it down.

[Anonymous No.12003570]

>>12000749
Anyone got any /crits/ for this? I'm happy to do a crit-for-crit, need to head to gym and get some work done but I'll be free to offer something reciprocal in 4-5 hours.

I'm interested in seeing what people think of any stuff that comes out in a stream of conscious manner; I tend to prefer several redrafts of anything before I show it to others, so seeing what people think of something I put out that's "raw" is something I'm interested in learning about.

[Anonymous No.12004660]

>>12000749
Don't overdo it with the adjectives like "maximal condescension" should just be condesecnion.

Same thing with "unease emanting from him was palpable" make it more plain, you have 3 crazy words here that makes it awkward. Choose 1-2. Reading is supposed to have flow not show off your vocabulary dick

[Anonymous No.12004697]

>>12003219
This is good

[Anonymous No.12004945]

The gong was sounded at 39 o’clock, after which the air grew red with the gore of battle, lavishly flung about by the mighty Texas slaughterer. Very shortly the first actual damage occurred—the loosening of several teeth in both participants. One, bouncing out from the Wolf’s mouth after a casual tap from Two-Gun, described a parabola toward Yucatan; being retrieved in a hasty expedition by Messrs. A. Hijacked Barrell and G. A. Scotland. This incident was used by the eminent sociologist and ex-poet Frank Chimesleep Short, Jr., as the basis of a ballad of proletarian propaganda with three intentionally defective lines. Meanwhile a potentate from a neighbouring kingdom, the Effjay of Akkamin (also known to himself as an amateur critic), expressed his frenzied disgust at the technique of the combatants, at the same time peddling photographs of the fighters (with himself in the foreground) at five cents each.

[Anonymous No.12005198]

I want to be so robotriped I become a robo’ot and march through the town.
I shake a tree a cat’s stuck and the cat comes down
I wait for thanks, large scissors and keys but instead detect a frown
The girl had put the cat up there and did not want it down
I prepare a cannon blast and ask the babe to explain
She says the cat did this and that and made her brother lame
I saw the cat was muscular, a specimen to aspire to
I asked the girl to bring it home while I waited in the fog and dew
I peeked through a window and spied the cat at work
Its muscles shown, it must have grown and soon it got to work
But before all that it lingered first and drank some purple syrp
I became frighteningly excited and screamed the wall to dust
I embrace the creator there as he were my brother.
The creature took me into town into an old saloon, and a rugged bunch of men were apon us soon
On the count of three the cat and I stripped our skin
And then the men danced on us until we both were dead.
My friend and I were doth combined into a fearsome sight.
A coorador of open pour led us along all night.
Here and there were cherubs bare who fed us on the sauce
An opening of great prestige elevated us, a single floating being, and this is what we saw
An empty place where harb doth played which we called mallsoft.

[Anonymous No.12005843]

>>12004660
Yeah, I tend to prune out the redundant vocab in a second pass. As stated, it was stream of consciousness. I'm an autist and I tend to think and speak in overly precise/convoluted ways, so a lot of people think I'm always trying to pretend to be more loquacious than I actually am.

[Anonymous No.12006098]

I want to know if the metal bar and burial thing reads like too much
----

David hesitated as his hands hovered over the handle. He sighed and stopped. His fingers clamped around his nose and pressed down with medium strength. After a minute passed and his nose felt sufficiently smaller, David walked in.
As soon as he entered, he felt as if he had made a big mistake. He heard the laughter of the guests and felt it was directed at him, their eyes which had flicked in his direction as he entered were probing, judgemental, suffocating, closing in around him with metal bars, entrapping him, burying him within a wall. David's hands instinctively flew to his nose again but he caught his action and stopped just in time. He squinted his eyes in a way that had nothing to do with the light in the room and walked forward.

[Anonymous No.12006109]

Looking for a bit of critique myself for a blog post I just wrote for a kind of a Halloweeny short story. Bit of feedback would be much obliged!

https://ghoststheburningsun.blogspot.com/2018/10/chapter-1-say-hello-maura.html

[Anonymous No.12006503]

"A Mugging"

1
Jade-hilted blossom, prim virginal blade,
pricked en pointe within astute white stone,
behind clear wall where touch is not,
qianlong trinket, their mark inlaid with gold.
i obtained her last night. today she'll meet love.

2
the sidewalk declared two unfamiliar souls,
a gangly working-man, and my javelin glare.
the limp autumn sun laminates our shoulders—
fanned with the scent of a brewing threat,
his head bullets back to greet its consort.

browning leaves flicker in the sea salt noon.
against his neck, the lip of steel beckons red,
a blue hand quivers, its sole preserver:
twelve frail bills reaped from a back pocket.
the pale jade scintillating, a blackbird babbling.