Rate my writing general

[Anonymous No.19250203]

Let's have a trivial exercise!

Post an excerpt of YOUR writing and others will* rate it out of 10.

First person to get a 10/10 gets a blowjob from every poster ITT!

>*shit all over it and then

[Anonymous No.19250218]

Reeeeeeeeeee it won't let me into my tumblr to retrieve my ancient poetry!

[Anonymous No.19250249]

>>19250218
10/10!
>...I guess I'll give myself a blowjob *insert emoji with the one eyebrow raised suggestively*

[Anonymous No.19250252]

Okay

[Anonymous No.19250264]

>>19250252
Anime/10

[Anonymous No.19250301]

>>19250252
I burst into laughter when I read "his ice cold armor". How can something be dangerously quiet?

[Anonymous No.19250330]

>>19250203
> I followed her down the hall to our room. She walked with seductive grace on her high heels, shaking her perfumed hair from side to side. A precious little thing, almost perfectly shaped. She opened the door and with a button illuminated the modest room with a dim red light. "Whats Next?" "Well now, you take off your pants, and your shirt if you want." I undressed from the waist down with the exception of my socks and lay back on the rough sheets that covered the mattress. I watched her as she approached me with the condom in hand, the disbelief I felt when I was able to examine her face in detail for the first time in the purple light of the club had not yet completely dissipated, prostitutes don't need to be so pretty, I thought. At least she was quite far from the appearance I imagined according to a prostitute. Under normal conditions I would not even be able to look her in the eye, now, for the amount equivalent to one day of minimum wage in my country, I would be inside her.

[Anonymous No.19250366]

>>19250252
Was great until I realized that Jamie was a guy

[Anonymous No.19250370]

>>19250252
3/10 needs work, your dialogue sounds like caricatures of people

[Anonymous No.19250387]

>>19250252
Are you the dude writing the medieval fantasy thing or whatever? My rating is it reads like YA.

[Anonymous No.19250452]

You mean critique thread, right?
Your not such a newfag that you don’t know critique threads?

[Anonymous No.19250621]

>>19250330
russian/10
I mean that as a compliment.
>>19250252
pretty gay, don't think I could give you any feedback that others haven't already.

>A sip of cheap wine and a piece of white paper are both my best friends, and my worst enemies. Sometimes I write down my thought and analize them as if I were someone else, realizing things about myself that I didn't know.
>Today I was writing about an old friend I knew for the most part of my life, her mother used to drop her off at my house while she worked.
>She was my first friend
>We grew up, went to the same school, shared the same group of friends, I've known her for as long as I remember, and yet, I haven't talked to her in a natural manner in years. I can't remember a single moment in which we shared something as friends, a movie, some food, maybe a little chat.
>Another sip of wine, hits the spot.
>It was there and then that I realized, we were never friends, or at least in the way I thought.
>Growing up together, playing together, doing school projects, listening to her ramble about her emotionally insufficient boyfriend, seeing them break up and go back together, for all of that, I was there, not because I cared about her, but because I thought I should, that's what a friend does.
>But we were never friends, our friendship was simply a convinience.
>No, this doesn't do it.
>Scrible over the parts I find stupid, save the better ones for a different text
>but I feel it inside
>the realization wasn't just a part of my writings.

[Anonymous No.19250651]

>>19250621
best stuff in the thread so far desu... Better than anything I write so idk how I could critique it

[Anonymous No.19250664]

>>19250252
YA/10
>>19250330
5/10
>>19250621
Also YA/10, but high caliber YA

[Anonymous No.19250753]

>>19250452
What's a newfag? Are you calling me a gay baby? Plz no bully

[Anonymous No.19250756]

Philosophy is the art of dressing up aphorisms as reason and of pomping and pressing them into a brand. I'll keep myself to myself--let my thoughts die with me in the nameless neighboring grave. Let me die hungry and angry and however else wanting, satisfaction in any form is death in sheep's clothing, so lest I count the sheep till nightfall and die before death, let me die wanting. She shakes her head and dandruff falls all over my floor- my floor and no other man's. She looks at me and asks again about Trefan's mother- what had I heard from him? Well the same as her, so I had presumed, and why not? Trefan was an honest sort, though under the pressure who knew- clearly her more than I, or she was at least smart enough to lose her faith in the goodwill and justice (what is justice but a propensity for truth?) and to justly doubt her friend- not doubt that he would have dispensed the truth to her, I now was seeing, but he to I! Would he lie? She wasn't digging, not rumoring or gossiping, at least not unvirtously, because she was here to see if I had been wronged, and in his mother's passing I had been decieved- and now I found I too was picking up her doubt, trying it on and stretching the sleeves- God! Had his mother even died? Was she unwell to begin with? who knew where the truth ended with good Trefan and where the lies started up. But if the reality had become too much (for then even the thought of the possibility of his mother's passing) might not any of us be forced into the occasional lie-unjust or not? And so my loyalty pulled further and further, inflating with doubt, and shrinking in faith till her doubt, her righteous and well-meaning doubt now fit me just as well. Justice at last was beginning to find me at this tardy middle age. Such conversations, which serve as a familiar sickly-sweet (purely medicinal) apértif to an eventful day, are all that give me hunger for the future; if we can at least talk about something, then there must still be something. No different in relationships-they only last till each has figured the other out, and both are just another mechanic of the personal world of the other-on to the next! And so we slowly turn the world to iron and oil, though should we live to see our personal social industrialization of the world finished, it would be a miracle and an unwelcome one at that. Nobody should be satisfied with satisfaction, and let that thought be permission to be forever unsatisfied, though I doubt many need permission except those most unusually talented at self-deception (the young, old, mentally infirm, or any other likely, in a herd of bison, not to make it to the next watering hole). She has the kind of ass, an unfortunate twin teardrop suspended from the tailbone, which if it could speak would complain of carsickness and the texture of food. Not worth my time, so my focus is turned back to her words for the moment. Let me live till I bleed out! [comment too long, flush my shit 4chan]

[Anonymous No.19250804]

I’m surrounded by darkness and shapes. The bus jolts me awake. I look out the window, and much like my dream, outside is pitch black, only illuminated by electric yellow orbs flashing by. Our road drops as another rises beside us, it snakes around us and curls to the side. Passing pillars hold these great structures as they span in different directions. Below us and the road, in the shadows, are rocks and lapping water.

[Anonymous No.19250861]

>>19250753
shut the fuck up and lurk more, retard

[Anonymous No.19250868]

>>19250252
Struggling for serious commentary, I say some of the best advice I've received is to overuse 'said' when describing how a person talks as much as possible.

[Anonymous No.19250905]

>>19250664
Well, I am young myself, I expect my prose to mature alongside me.
Thanks anon.

[Anonymous No.19250957]

Fuck, there she go again doin that crazy thing with her tongue. This bitch on some super sonic hoover typa shit! No wonder her nigga hard to track down on the street, motherfucker always at home gettin his dome chrome. Shit, I know she the kinda crazy wouldnt even slow down if I told her: only reason I’m at they crib, to get the drop on his thievin ass.
Punk ass two face marsupial lookin mothafucka done rob my runner for the last time. And you know he aint gettin top price for that product, aint no one payin premium for tainted goods. So on top of robbin me, nigga’s introducin all kinda, shit, what did BooBoo call it that one time? economic inefficiency? Yeah that’s it, mothafucka and his sorry ass conduct be imposin all kinda economic inefficiencies on the street, then he slink his semi-aquatic ass back to Miss Dyson over here while us honest folk gotta deal.
So before I send him on his way to the bottom of the pond down on 4th, I’ma make sure he rest easy knowin his lady gone have all the prime steak she can handle as long as I’m runnin these streets.

[Anonymous No.19252279]

0/10

[Anonymous No.19252286]

>>19250252
Show tone in dialogue instead of in dialogue tags

[Anonymous No.19252289]

>>19250861
>falling for that bait

[Anonymous No.19252304]

>>19250203
I’ve been sitting at the bottom of the hole for a long time now. I can see the sky. Sometimes, I lay down and watch the clouds form and shuffle across my view. It’s cinematic. My eyes are projectors.

A man entered stage left into my movie. He must’ve been on his hands and knees. Only his head poked into frame. “Hullo down there. Do you need a rope?”

“Yes, to hang myself with.”

He baulked, disappearing from the screen. He scoffed. He laughed uncomfortably. “Well... if you’re into that kind of stuff mate, I don’t know what to tell ya.”

The sun came into the scene. I put my hand up to keep its light out of my eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Tim.”

“And that’s always been your name?”

“As long as I can remember.”

I squinted. Tim seemed alright. He had a sharp nose and a blue hat. “Why don’t you come down here Tim?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t you come up here?” He reached down to me with a groan.

I stood up. His hand was dirty, covered in concrete. All those white beads were blisters to me. I thought if I grabbed his hand they would all pop. I grimaced, and I don’t think Tim noticed, but he did ask why I wasn’t taking his hand. “There’s stuff on it,” I said.

Tim took his hand up to his face. “Yeah, that’s just concrete mate. It won’t kill ya.”

“No, they‘re blisters,” I said.

Tim was stunned. His face was a glacier. Anger thawed his features. His brow beaded with sweat. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, and concrete painted itself on his forehead. He became a warrior, or a sacrifice.

I jumped away from him, put my fists up, and ducked my head low behind them. “Now you want to fight, huh? Think you’re so tough, huh? You’re not gonna get me to come up there with you so you can strangle me, fucker!”

Tim’s lips stretched out with concern. He turned away from the hole and got up. I couldn’t see him for some time. I even put my hands down. I thought he’d gone, when two angels appeared before me in the sun light. “You must be Tim’s goons!”

They looked at each other and giggled. They were identical twins, girls, a few years younger than me. I changed my tune, relaxed, leant up against the side of the hole and crossed my ankles. When I put my elbow up against the side, though, dirt crumbled off and splattered into my hair. I got a fright. I flicked my hands through my hair. When I looked up, sure there was no more dirt left in my hair, the two girls were gone.

[Anonymous No.19252310]

>>19250957
coon/10

[Anonymous No.19252312]

>>19250452
lol shut up newfag

[Anonymous No.19252313]

>>19250203

An interesting example of German masochism since Germans are supposed to hate Americans and McDonalds more than most. Presumably this individual sublimated this hatred into the resulting tattoo.

[Anonymous No.19252364]

>>19252313
>German masochism
>.no
Fucking seps.

[Anonymous No.19252366]

>>19252313
Its written right there on his arm mate. Its not Germany.

[Anonymous No.19252382]

>>19252364
>>19252366
The language and top address on the image plainly indicate German origin. To check this for yourself, input the top data into a search engine.

[Anonymous No.19252395]

>>19252382
Fuck off esoteric nazi scum. Norway isn't German.

[Anonymous No.19252401]

>>19252382
>Homestyle Bearnaise
>For godt til å være sant? Neida.cDin nye favoritt Homestyle Bearnaise består av 100% norsk storfekjøtt, crispy potetsticks, cheddarost, sprøstekt løk og selvfølgelig en perfekt balansert bearnaisesaus mellom to premium brød. Vel bekomme.
>Din nye favoritt Homestyle Bearnaise består av 100% norsk storfekjøtt
>100% norsk

[Anonymous No.19252412]

>>19250252
2/10

>she nodded
>he exclaimed
>he asked dumbly
>Jamie admitted
>she hummed thoughtfully
>she snapped

and on and on. amateurs do this. they think they need to make everything more elaborate than he said/she said. it doesn't work.

and it's dialogue heavy, which is another amateur vice. this isn't a play or a movie.

[Anonymous No.19252712]

How to have a holiday like me and my friend in Tenerife

1. Smuggle 2 types of narcotics on the plane across international boarders.
2. Try a Pina Colada, actually astonishingly tasty, made by the owner of the beach bar.
3. Get a tantric massage from a petite Russian where you cum so hard you almost pass out. Become enlightend about aspects of your life after.
4. Lay in the sun at a resort, do this a lot and catch up on sleep.
5. Have an octopus sucker salad and try not to puke.
6. Get their salted baked potatoes, like little comets, which explode in your mouth. (Papas Arrugadas, apparently boiled in seawater)
7. Try a “Barraquito” one of the most delicious alcoholic drinks I’ve ever had in my life, like a coffee-creme liquor.
8. Drive through the utterly martian land of the volcano at sunset, so unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, you can't shake the feeling you're not on earth. From sea level we lost 16 degrees centigrade as we ascended. Silhouetted sky-scraping pillars of rock, like ancient golems protecting a dead land. The Mars valley bathed in the red light of the setting sun.
9. Eat lots of high quality sushi.
10. Get black out drunk and don’t ask your friend what actually happened for at least two weeks (you climbed onto the roof of your hotel and then jumped from one roof to another (remember?)).
11. Go to a Siam Park on of the greatest waterparks on the planet with your best buddy. Mandatory fun required.
12. Get checked out by all the lovely ladies.
13. Fuck a gorgeous Ghana girl in the bushes. Slap her tribal-scarred ass and play with her perfect (and very sensitive) titties.
14. Don’t sleep for 24 hours.
15. Vape on the plane.

[Anonymous No.19252731]

>>19250252
3/10

>>19250330
5/10

>>19250621
4/10

>>19250756
7/10

>>19250804
6/10

>>19250957
4/10

>>19252304
8/10

[Anonymous No.19252757]

Fulfillment - Construction boots sinking into mud, the flittering of light rain on deep green leaves, breathing in the mist of the forest, beholding the glorious ecosystem in it’s most thrilling state. To my surprise today’s exhibits consisted mostly of olfactory splendor, the damp magnified the smells of earth, bark and moss.

[Anonymous No.19253014]

>>19252310
coons don't know the word "marsupial"

[Anonymous No.19253131]

>>19250252
4/10 not good

[Anonymous No.19253278]

I've always been pretty insecure about my writing and I never usually let other people read my stuff but here's an introduction to an essay I wrote (I won't bore you with the whole thing) for university a couple of years ago, it would be nice to know where I stand. Thanks.

>>19250252
2/10 sorry

>>19250330
6/10 but kinda gross, I don't want to read that in a book desu.

>>19250621
>analize
cmon...
Pretty good other than that 7/10

>>19250756
Some of the sentences are a bit long imo but that's a personal preference of mine and what I like to read and there are some grammar mistakes as well but overall good. 7/10

>>19250804
8/10 Favourite itt so far, nice and to the point.

[Anonymous No.19253294]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1A7xDXOgqMkbx1dOQOrFNDWVB5PRaOa0XauO3hLuXRmI/edit

[Anonymous No.19253329]

[Anonymous No.19253350]

https://justpaste dot it/8y75l

[Anonymous No.19254028]

Whatever dragged me back to this dumpster of a neighborhood was stronger than my reasoning, yet I was feeling oddly melancholic.

The same streets I used to walk everyday from home to school, the same houses, even the same trees were here to greet me, but the entire neighborhood was veiled by a thin layer of mist, time had taken it's toll on everything around me.

The houses were all renewed, I assume with different owners too, the fast food place run by one of our neighbors was nowhere to be seen, yet I could smell the freshly fried chicken and fries, I could even hear miss Rebecca welcoming me and Matthew after we were out playing football, all dirty and sweaty. The playground in which I made my first friends, or what was left of it had been turned into a makeshift shelter by a homeless guy, who I didn't think I knew. Bottles of beer, pieces of clothing and all kinds of trash were scattered around the slides and tubes.

In the midst of my sadness I was hit by a wave of comfort, gently washing away the dirt from my heart. In the sidewalk, written into the concrete, were my and my friends' initials, Matthew, Carlos and Jamie....

There were some construction workers fixing dents and cracks in the sidewalk, which had been there from before I was even born, when they left for a break, my friends and me sneaked by and marked our initials in the fresh concrete.
I didn't get to finish the B in my masterpiece before someone yelled at us and we ran away, being left as a a backwards d, C.d became my nickname from there on out.
I always hated it as a kid.

Jamie went into his house and came back with treats his mother gave him. Eating icecream under a burning summer sun with my friends, talking about the future, what we would be once we grew up. Matthew wanted to be an astronaut, Carlos wanted to be a policeman, Jamie said he just wanted to play videogames with his dad, I too, didn't know it myself, you don't sit and ponder the direction of your life seriously at eleven years old, you just live.

I broke my trance from staring at the concrete, realizing what brought me here. It's been so long since the last time I felt the comfort of a home, such is life when you're hopping from bus to bus, from plane to plane.

I hurried back to my car. It's getting late and I've got work tomorrow.

[Anonymous No.19254150]

I hate I eat, I ate I heat (hot dogs) until they're not at all hot but warm enough to eaten. I ate. I hate the dogs that bark outside, outsides crispy from heat lamps or the sun. A man and his son and his dog (or his dog, the son) outsides crisp and brown from the sun or heat lamps, talking and not at all cold but cool enough to hate. The lazy brown dog and his lazy man and his son (or his son and his man) barking for more hotdogs to be made, so I put them under the heat lamp where they will sit for a long time and eventually be ate or will be old enough to be removed and let become cold.

[Anonymous No.19254348]

At that hour the waters of the lake shone like fins of rainbow fish or broken TVs. He kept hearing splashes, ripples and warbles coming at him from every direction. All things seemed to screech loudly like chimpanzees and he alone – Hieronymus – was silent, sitting and burying his feet ever so deeply in the warm sand. They did not see him, and there were three of them: Samuel and some wenches by his side. They fed cigarette butts to duck, but there’s no harm, no harm at all. Everything flows. So they, too, will flow down and be fed to the ducks, and so will the ducks and he with his feet in the sand. There would have had been no problem at all, save for that funny feeling, stinging like a gadfly, burning like a cranked up radiator.
For every time he looked their way, he thought that there lay a beaten place in the sand by Samuel’s side, waiting just for him. That not much had to be done for them to become friends. That Samuel thought of him more often than one could assume and only an unspoken rarity of air, the military routine of the sports’ camp, the unrelenting rhythm of breakfasts, dinners and suppers, was keeping them from getting to know each other better. But he had so much to say to him. Samuel had a shapely nose like a Roman centurion might, toes like an agile frog, the look like … ah! the radiant lake! But even more so, he could ask him endless questions. When observing from a distance, Hieronymus thought that there even were very basic things he could learn from Samuel. For example: how to get up in the morning with one’s head held high, to walk chest-out with no particular reason, to tread decidedly and not ever look back… But Samuel breathed physical activity and the attention of beautiful people, while Hieronymus considered himself to be wholly repulsive. So only by posing a challenge could he attract the demigod of the lake…

[Anonymous No.19254396]

it's a work in progress, might submit it for class (with some changes ofc)
how is the pacing, flow, surprise factor etc?
>I wonder if those NIGGERS are coming back to pick me up. This innercity sidewalk is fuckin nasty. That day when the white lady with big tiddies was about to reach for me, Mom couldn't contain her excitement, telling me over and over how proud she was of me. Instead, the lady grabbed big long Elong. Elong was huge, like the rest of his family, and it was always good money to bet on one of their pod getting picked first.
>The next morning, when we saw a nappy haired NIGGER walking down the aisle, we all got quiet.
>Please, please not me. You could see it in everyone's eyes.
>All of a sudden, it got dark. A dark sweaty limb descended, blocking the fluorescent din. Mom couldn't even get the words out now. I didn't know what to say.
>Trayshon and Devontay fighting over me in the back seat
>Rough sweaty hands grabbing all over
>Drowning now in lipid three-piece breath
>Eyes closed, I don't want to know what's happening anymore
>This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Maybe that anti-natalist faggot cousin Dolee had a point. This world is fucked.
>And now, a shell of my former self, the ground vibrates as another one of them approaches.
>Maybe these NIGGERS have some sense of civic duty after all, and intend to dispose of me where I may at least return to the soil - the only place in this squalid landscape I could ever belong
>Alas, it is not - perhaps never was - to be
>Clumsy NIGGER arms swinging, pointing across the street, NIGGER voice booming
>AYYO D-TRAIN WASS GOOD SON, YO IMMA GETCHU THAT SCRILLA TONIGHT FOREAL
>My bananapeel brains triangulating the juxtaposition of NIGGER gaze, body, and feet: it doesn't look good
>A foot looms, I try to scream but nothing rises
>NIGGER limbs flailing, as what remains of my guts are rendered once again - this poor body has given too much
>Across the street, D-Train bursts forth in aggravated NIGGER howl
>YO THIS NIGGA FINNA CRACK A SKULL, AYO NIGGA THAS WATCHU GET PLAYIN THEM KNICKS SUCKA

[Anonymous No.19255056]

These threads don't work if everyone just posts their shit and leaves, if you want a rating leave a rating for someone else pls.

[Anonymous No.19255148]

>>19255056
‘Tis true
I’m>>19254396, will try to leave something useful
>>19254348
>shone like a broken tv
>hearing ripples
Unless your boy Hieronymous has synaesthesia, those are some fucked up metaphors
>some wenches
There’s only 2, most wouldn’t probably call that “some”
Other than that I like the thing about the ducks flowing to become duck food. Hieronymous sounds like a faggot though and should just khs
6/10
>>19254150
Based and ee cummings pilled 8/10

[Anonymous No.19255198]

>>19255148
Yeah the guy's a fag
That's a translation from my first language, done shittily too, thanks for spotting the stuff that's wrong, appreciate it

[Anonymous No.19255572]

In life and thought, it remains a precious thing to grasp a single certitude; amongst the mountains of refuse. Equipped only with perception itself, Man is endlessly prone to perambulating, astray, to the fatidical whim and whispers of that deceptive Maiden; Desire, with her engines of malice. Only those who rear within themselves a judicious and incorrigible will can escape the twinned prong of Fallacy- that which emanates the sins of Falsity and Rhetoric. Certainty is that miracle, that treasure, that wards beyond all comprehension those demons and their beguiling, their wiling in the recesses of your spirit and your soul.

[Anonymous No.19255584]

The Feeling of uncertainty is the sensation of anxiety. The greater relevance to the Feeling of the feeler, the more severe and the more immediate the anxiety. This explains the paradox of how uncertainty can fix Man into his greatest throes of feeling while being merely a fantastic object of his mentality. Uncertainty is thus also the intuition of a chaos, and the nervous premonition of true suffering.

[Anonymous No.19255597]

The acts of the purely destructive psychology of the modern liberal ethos will bring a great ruin and a great reckoning. Deep, deep ignorance shifts into amnesia, transforming the people into mere populations, and leaders into aimless sovereigns. On the horizon, a storm awaits tomorrow’s Man.

[Anonymous No.19255607]

>>19255597
>>19255584
>>19255572
>>19254348
>>19254150
This:
>>19255056

[Anonymous No.19255628]

>>19250301
>How can something be dangerously quiet?

Stoic, brooding, lying in wait in a copse of juniper bushes, stalking his prey with calculated silence...

[Anonymous No.19255630]

Sometimes the great inertias of life fall to only a crawl. Pity, sadness, guilt, lethargy, anxiety serve as the friction halting the force of the twin passions, Will and Enjoyment. A mood totalizes the perceptions of the understanding. It colors indelibly the substances of life until the clouds have passed. I’m a proud man. I continue to live my life with a passion and an impetus utterly unique in this time and this world I’ve been born into. The first thing I ever knew was that I was alone, utterly alone with myself. It is only very rarely that I realize again the terrors of the loneliness which accompanies that premonition.

[Anonymous No.19255635]

>>19255607
I’m getting to my ratings. I just wanted to post some of my writing and not mire the replies with a wall of text before the rating that people are interested in.

[Anonymous No.19255659]

>>19250301
>How can something be dangerously quiet?

Mi gun silent until it go BOOYAKAH, yuh know

[Anonymous No.19255675]

My ratings are rather harsh.
>>19250252
5/10. The changes in tone & description are sometimes a little inelegant, but the actual content of your descriptions are rich enough that the reader can get lost in their emotions and the inertia of the conversation.
>>19250330 2.5/10.
Overall Unremarkable but some sentences capture the glints of real experience rather well.
>>19250756
4/10. Begins with clarity and the potential for its incisive insight to cohere into beautiful contemplation, but it fails and instead becomes a mess, just like a mess of a room one believes is sufficiently curated, sufficiently taken care of, but to a stranger past the occasional unity
appears a disheveled collection of junk.
>>19252289
7/10. Crystal clear imagery. The absurdity and careless tone is communicated excellently in structure & content.

[Anonymous No.19255688]

>>19255675
Meant to reply to this
>>19252304

[Anonymous No.19255701]

>>19255688
For the last one that is.

[Anonymous No.19255710]

Women, people, don’t know what they want. Young romance frequently is being led to the joys of intimate experience by someone and something utterly novel to the preconceptions of your taste. Superficial beauties are merely the purely external attributes that excite immediately the senses and the sensual urges, but I have known not one person in my entire life who is truly sated at the bottom of their heart for all time with the proportions of a face or a body. People will inevitably crave beauties more diverse and more substantial than pornagraphic or ephemeral indulgences. No matter how immature the man or woman, even the infant itself wants not the breast and the milk but the Mother, and the Mother of romance is not the eyes nor the genitals. It is the heart and all the mechanisms for feeling.

[Anonymous No.19255953]

>>19255628
Shhhhhh!

[Anonymous No.19256361]

I do a lot of journaling, but very little actual storytelling. For some reason I have been feeling drawn to it lately and want to start writing more seriously though. Advice?

>>19250621
Too good for me capable of critique kek

>>19250330
Don't like "At least she was quite far from the appearance I imagined according to a prostitute." I feel like you already made that point, audience isn't stupid, but it might just be the awkward language. Throughout I find it to be stumbling. Maybe read it out loud to yourself, idk. It is good though, I think you could make something great if you keep it up

>>19252304
I think this is really cool! It loses my respect when it's acknowledged that it is concrete on his hands in the narration, and not just through what Tim says. Like if it is your perspective that you think they are blisters, then that is what should be expressed until Tim is the one who says otherwise.

>>19250957
Is this a reflection of the way you actually speak? spenny/10

>>19252712
Immediately don't care about "a holiday like me and my friend in Tenerife." Read it, still didn't care. Sounds like a good holiday but still pretty boring to read kek. Hook the reader, and offer something in the perspective. I get the vibe that you don't really write, and this was more of an amusement driven documentation, though. The antics themselves are a good framework for something.

>>19255572
Sounds fun to write, but found it unclear and difficult to parse. Just too vague and poetic, too dense for what it is. I don't really know what you're referring to when you say the mountains of refuse, relating to the rest of the sentence. The maiden has engines? Maybe go for words more common, like prophetic instead of fatidical? I understand the urge to write like this but I see it as more of a poetic journaling, the process of unraveling your perspective. Potential

[Anonymous No.19256411]

>>19250203
His schizo rush was profitable. It appeared he had finally awakened after years of slumber and inertia: he took action, and it led to excellent and glorious results. But to his horror, when he lets that frenzied state vanish completely after relaxing, he feels what he had felt before. The melodies of mental impermanence start to play once again after a sudden resurgence of initiative and an outburst of action, something that his mind did not experience for years, and his active way is dissolved. His awakening vanishes and he feels once again the extreme insecurities and mental obfuscations that have tarnished his consciousness and prevented him from acting, doing enjoyable activities or even pondering about his miserable mental state in favor of a complacent and static existence for years. He felt this way throughout all his life after 2023: every time he felt the impetus of starting any activity, like reading a book or listening to music for example – actions that before the accursed year were commonplace among his day to day life – the action was sabotaged and aborted by something inhumane and abominable secretly lurking into his mind. It led him to be unable to complete the activity and to simply long for nothingness instead. Nelson for years did not think, he did not act and he did not have pleasure – he was a nullified agent of life, simply existing; a vortex of inaction. He only nebulously was aware of the existence of this lurking hindering agency, and never tried to scrutinize it, for the hindering agency itself automatically led him to nothingness instead of effortful mental activity that could shed light over the nature of the agency itself and why he was dragged to inertia. To take initiative to do the simplest of actions – like actually doing something of worthy significance to prevent the suffering of his family instead of manufacturing delusional coping mechanisms that served only to prevent the true vision of himself as he truly was to ever shine under the light of his conscious mind – was impossible.

[Anonymous No.19256651]

>>19250203
I've never written anything before, but I had to get my story out there. I've taken a lot of care in choosing what words and prose to use to really make this story something worth putting out there. I'd really appreciate some feedback, I consider this to be my life's work essentially

[Anonymous No.19256737]

I wrote a good 8 pages today after not writing for 8 years
8 pages of shit like this

[Anonymous No.19256765]

>>19256737
> personality and memory
> heady seasoning
all else aside,
heh

[Anonymous No.19256772]

>>19250252
10/10 did enjoy

[Anonymous No.19257616]

Bump

[Anonymous No.19257695]

>>19250252
Cringe of this magnitude could be weaponised as torture

[Anonymous No.19257696]

>>19254150
Very good

[Anonymous No.19257819]

>>19250301
I came dangerously quiet in your mother last night so as not to wake you

[Anonymous No.19258293]

>>19256361
>don't care
I don't care that you don't care, although you care enough to make a point of how little you care. Why? I don't care but there's something there.

>I get the vibe
Riiiight.. and you put the vibe in your ass as you typed your reply.

[Anonymous No.19258310]

>>19250252
Lay off the anime you pussyless faggot

[Anonymous No.19258331]

[Anonymous No.19258337]

>>19256411
>His schizo rush was profitable

[Anonymous No.19258626]

>>19256651
>moby dick 2
Hahaha!

It's too much. If there was a well established context it might work but that would also make a lot of the statements redundant.

4/10

>>19256361
5/10

[Anonymous No.19258633]

>>19256737
>with an audible *slosh*
>*
stopped reading, 0/10

[Anonymous No.19259467]

>>19253278
Heyyy could I get at least one rating plsss I did other people

[Anonymous No.19259545]

>>19259467
You haven't got any ratings because you posted academic writing. Threads like these are about rating prose.

[Anonymous No.19259570]

>>19253278
8/10. Favorite other than my own so far.
The content is soundly argued & substantive, the prose complements perfectly the meaning and the gravity of your arguments.

[Anonymous No.19259589]

>>19259545
>Post an excerpt of YOUR writing and others will* rate it out of 10.
hmmm it didn't say anywhere here no non-fiction and there's already a writing general up specifically for fiction so I don't know what you're on about.

>Threads like these are about rating prose.
The writing I posted is prose so what now?

>>19259570
Thank you :)

[Anonymous No.19259698]

>>19259570
>>19259589
It's boring shit that says nothing. And the prose is taxidermy (in every sense: ugly, stilted, imitation, lifeless, tacky, etc.)

[Anonymous No.19259744]

>>19259698
>says nothing
If you truly think my work said nothing then you didn't read it properly, that or your reading comprehension is too poor to understand, whichever case I don't value your judgement at all.

And you really shouldn't pass such harsh criticisms if you won't put effort into reading anon, it's in bad faith and it ruins the threads. I don't have a problem if you think my writing is boring but you clearly did not put the effort in to read it, maybe you're just salty because I gave you a bad rating, who knows.

[Anonymous No.19259757]

Emergendo dall’interno buio del blindato, la visione del deserto si presenta agli occhi di Domenico come quasi troppo intensa per essere tollerata. Le dune instabili, nella momentanea presenza del vento, si gonfiano e si diffondono, contaminandosi a vicenda della propria materia. Domenico pensa che non significhino nulla, tronfie e abbandonate sulla terra, e forse è così. Forse la sabbia si limita a giacere nella sua inesauribile uniformità, contenuta in questo angolo dalle montagne distanti; o forse invece ogni apparente terminazione del frattale sabbioso è tale per un suo preciso motivo; forse l’insieme non è da considerarsi come un intero, ma la somma di incalcolabili volontà individuali, una per ciascun granello. Certo non è probabile, ma poco importa all’uomo in piedi sulla sabbia calda, che poggia il suo sguardo sul ripiegarsi del manto zafferano, e che vede i raggi del sole cadere e stendersi dall’alto come proiezioni ortogonali terrene di un qualche solido celeste. Sì, per l’uomo che si prepara ad affrontare il deserto, il deserto ha una sua volontà che è tanto maggiore e definita quanto lo è la propria. La sua superficie non riflette nulla al di fuori del calore, ma in qualche modo vi si rivede. E allora ogni microscopico, amorfo, scomposto granello di sabbia, tirato su da uno scirocco breve, finito nello stesso alito in cui si è generato, sembra a quell’uomo un pianeta a sé stante - la minima parte di una galassia dalla rotta folle, che si solleva per lasciarsi osservare, e che sprofonda poi nella massa degli altri granelli, come il buddismo constata la vita emergere dall’universo per farvi ritorno poco dopo. Sì, le colline friabili sembrano parlargli con lo stesso monotono rimestarsi del mare lontano, e se sono solamente due gli elementi che può osservare: il vento fra i suoi capelli e la sabbia sotto ai suoi piedi, e se per di più la seconda non è che una precipitazione, il rendering tridimensionale di quelle invisibili particelle che compongono l’atmosfera, sente che nel risultato del loro combinarsi e separarsi di continuo, può imprimere tutto se stesso; i suoi desideri, le sue speranze e le sue ambizioni - e se ha l’arroganza degli umanisti di credere che queste siano infinitamente numerose, o infinitamente varie, o, peggio ancora, infinitamente profonde - allora, come uno specchio contiene in sé l’entelechia di ogni forma che gli può essere presentata, riflettendoli li contiene anche il deserto

[Anonymous No.19259778]

>>19255572
Gendo Ikari/10

[Anonymous No.19259788]

>>19259744
>lucid writing more closely aligns with reality
>confused writing does not, but also it's not supposed to
That's all the substance to it, and I'd argue that neither point is correct. Not only that, but you completely ignored the prompt, or at least misinterpreted the quotation.
(You gave my writing a good rating btw.)

[Anonymous No.19259831]

>>19250203
Before Mother was Mother and Father was Father. They were Ada and Ernest. I must remind myself in my head. Ada and Ernest, Ernest and Ada. Before Sylvia they were happy. They were stress free. Before Sylvia they would dance on my floor and listen to punchy Jazz. I have no name. But I have a floor.
“We don't have enough money. Where is it all going, Ernie, tell me. Where is our money? We can hardly afford this house.” Ada screamed.

“Our money?” Ernie huffed, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. I hated cigarettes, they yellowed and peeled my walls. “My money Ada, mine.”He flicked his hot cigarette at her and stomped to the coat rack.“Bitch.” He muttered. He grabbed his back coat and walked out the door. He slammed my door.
I’m sorry I let him go, Ada.
Ada let out an alley cat noise. She pressed her foot on top of the cigarette and leaned against the table. She began to cry. This was not the first time he had left. Ada shuffled around the living room, before resting her back on the dark blue sofa. Across from Ada sat a picture frame and a lamp. She touched the cool dusty glass over the picture with a trembling hand.
In the picture, Her brown hair was wavy over her shoulders, while Ernest still had dark hair on the top of his head. Ada’s young body was in a fitted white lace dress. Ernest, not yet fat, was wearing a slightly large brown suit. She clutched the side of the frame, her knuckles white. She bit her bottom lip. She remembered that day. It was many years ago. I remember that day as well. It was the day they bought me. Sylvia began to babble, she was awake. Ada placed the picture back up on the table.

[Anonymous No.19259836]

>>19250203
Ada was screaming.
Dr. Hayward waited on my doorstep with a red sniffly nose, his large coat flailed behind him in the wind. Ernest gave him a nod and threw his cigarette against the ground. Hayward had more hair above his eyes than on his head, like his scalp climbed down to rest upon his brow.
Ernest pushed open my door, and it thus unleashed Ada to their ears.
“She better be close.” Ernest muttered, and rubbed his temple. “She’s been screaming like that for hours.” Hayward took a knee before Ada, who was lying sweaty on her bed.
Hayward looked, “nearly crowning,” he said. She screamed because life was ripping out of her.
“Hold on.” Hayward yelled at her as he reached into his leather bag.
“I can’t, I can't, I can't, ” Ada kept shrieking.
“You’re almost there.” Hayward took out a syringe and a small bottle of liquid. He plunked the small silvery tip into the bottle and pulled the plunger up.
“Relax your arm for me, Ada.” He grabbed her forearm. She shook her head, “no.”
“You can’t do this naturally Ada, I'm sorry,” Hayward sighed, and the needle disappeared into her vein. “Relax.” He whispered.
Suddenly everywhere was quiet. Ada had stopped screaming. Twilight sleep, they called it. Her eyes were glassy and scared, her jaw was slack.
The next few moments moved fast, and Hayward would whisper in Ada’s ear what he needed her to do. Eventually, the screaming began again when Hayward pulled a small rat out of Ada, wrinkly with brown hair. They named it Sil VEE uh. The thing was screaming so loud for such a small being. Hayward was washing the sewer gunk off her in my sink, and Ada sat up in the bed glassy eyed, Ernest by her side. This is when Ada became Mother. Mommy. Mama. I don’t think Ernest ever truly became Father.
It was no longer just me, Ada, and Ernest. Ada's swollen stomach had somehow given us Sylvia.

[Anonymous No.19259842]

>>19259788
Oof wrong. The quotation argues that an author has a responsibility to be lucid in their writing, I argued that this is incorrect when obtusity is the subject of an authors writing.
(I got 78/100 for this essay btw)

>I'd argue that neither point is correct
Go on...

[Anonymous No.19259892]

>>19259831
>>19259836
This is very good, the style feels personal and impactful and it flows very well. From a prose stand point I’d say 7.5-8/10

[Anonymous No.19259909]

>>19259892
thanks anon :)

[Anonymous No.19259950]

>>19259831
>>19259836
7/10
I dig it, and while the subject isn't anything new, i like the unique point of view. Emotions in the first part are a bit dry and cliche, but the second one is much nicer.

Lightning struck across the night sky. Then thunder came, its echoes slowly drowned out by the sounds of heavy rain. Two men were waiting it out inside a small, natural cave. They were huddled near a bonfire, its weak flames trembled by the occasional gust of wind.
“Are rains usually this bad around here?” asked a gruff-looking man with an equally gruff voice. His dark hair and beard were dirty, wet, and tangled yet he did not look pitiful. His only eye shot a piercing glare from under the thick eyebrows. He was adorned in a well-worn leather coat that reached down to his tall, dark boots. On his back, he carried a big crossbow, along with a full quiver, and a backpack. He was sitting on a big, cotton sack while leaning forward and chewing a straw.
“I rarely come this far for the herbs, sir, so can’t say I know for sure, but it can get pretty strong down in the valley. Sometimes even makes the river overflow.” the second one was a young-looking lad in simple peasant clothes, with a wet hooded cloak over his shoulders. A small sickle and a pleasantly smelling pouch hung from his belt. He sat cross-legged, warming his hands by the fire.
“What made you come here today then?” asked Gruff man.
“I’ve been on the run actually. Not from the law or anything, but from a pack of wolves. They started following me in the morning, around my usual gathering spot, and have been cutting my way back home since! I’ve honestly lost all hope of losing them, but, for some reason, they didn’t follow me here, on the mountainside,” answered Herbalist.
“Hmph, those must be some really hungry wolves to follow you for so long! I can count on one hand the times I heard of them hunting men. Mayhaps, it was a hard winter?”
“Nay, nothing of sorts, sir. But I know that a few people have gone missing round these parts lately. Thought it was brigands or maybe some wildmen wondered here from over the mountains. But, after running from those foul beasts for almost a day, I’m sure it’s they who ate the poor sods!”
“And now, after tasting men’s blood, they hunger for more,” Gruff one nodded his head a few times and spat the straw on the ground. “Your village should pay someone to hunt down the beasts.”
“Someone like you, sir?” Herbalist asked with a slight smirk.
“Aye, I’d be up to cull them a bit, if it wasn’t for this sad piece of crap,” he said as he slapped the sack he was sitting on.

[Anonymous No.19260043]

>>19259950
Ffxiv/10
I

[Anonymous No.19260250]

>>19250252
3/10. It seems your average teenager book
>>19250330
5/10. Its fine, i just don't believe that you need to describe the scene with such determination
>>19250621
5'7/10, i feel this, i think It is smart how you put self-realization in the character
>>19250756
It has a good large lenguage, It is cynical and at the same time it shows that you have control over what you are writting. 8'6/10

>the human being is wonderful, our condition is accelerated and our steps on earth are not existential wanderings nor do we catalyze it as nihilism. the human being, in all consuming essence, becomes a vitalist being. a man god who finds music in the leaves and who soaks his heart in works and symbolism. To say that the humanities is a field of study would be an understatement, the humanities were created to be the eternal lover of the human being, we are exalted in history under the lives of those ancestors who share our nature and even so we understand it in such academic way. Life, formed from the purest divine affection, is It truly an eternal garden of Eden, a difficult life is only the entertainment of people with the most clinging spirits. humanity exists for its own worth and beauty. the ambiguous values of democracy and acceptance are overshadowed under human violence that, like any other passion, must be worshiped over and over again. our primitivism is the paintings we leave about wars and our love is the most rugged eroticism.

(Don't be so harsh, i wrote this quickly at the same time i was cooking some burritos)

[Anonymous No.19260292]

>>19255710
This is too long winded for such banal a point as “people want more than just looks,” however
>even the infant itself wants not the breast and the milk but the Mother
Is a very nice sentence. I would just change the last “and” for an “or”

[Anonymous No.19261638]

bump

[Anonymous No.19261994]

I've been on and off writing this book for about a year about a dude who found and accidentally killed an alien. It's pretty fun to write about.

[Anonymous No.19263213]

Bump

[Anonymous No.19264266]

>>19259698
It’s extremely narrow minded to believe that the only worthwhile writing has to be of a flowery nature. Clinical, analytic prose is just as valid as poetic verse.

>>19259589
OP here, you’re exactly right, I wanted all kinds of writing, not just narrative or poetic prose. I was thinking of posting my cover letter even.

[Anonymous No.19264920]

>>19250203
Sea water crashed through the arches lining the walls of Diogenes’ atrium, pooling around a parliament of marble statues depicting contorted and agonized forms. I presume, reader, that your time has not yet witnessed the great change— that moment when life plunged into the dazzling darkness of the void, invigorating itself through digitization, fully submerging itself in the exponential fractal blossoming of imagination. As such these forms Diogenes sat amongst are not conceivable to you. In fact, most of the details of this narrative will be without real context. Perhaps one day you will understand. In the meantime it is enough that you listen.

The sea-foam came to rest in fibonacci spirals on the sacred surface our gentle ponderer sat cross-legged upon, drying rapidly into sponge-dabbed concrete. He exhaled and gazed out at the perpetual sunset— or was it sunrise?— and fully appreciated the beauty mere existence lent its subjects. This day would be his last. He knew it, though he did not know.

In the distance, young Hephaestion traveled to meet the thinker. His form was a golden pyramid, crowned with an afro and adorned with sunglasses (to dampen the harsh solar rays.) Diogenes glimpsed his visitor, and that chiseled smirk, which was so often the focus of caricatures, once again plastered his face. “Hephaestion, my seed, help me pierce these veils that keep covering my old eyes. I wish to see the expanse the way you do, through those stylish lenses.”

[Anonymous No.19264937]

>>19261994
yo that’s actually pretty good.I mean its not mind-bending or breath-taking but the writing serves the idea very well and the dialogue has good characterizarion. I would be interested is seeing another excerpt.

[Anonymous No.19266799]

bump

[Anonymous No.19267437]

>>19256411
>tfw my excerpt passed unnoticed

[Anonymous No.19267530]

>>19264937
thanks anon, your comment made my day. Maybe sometime soon i'll pick out another excerpt and post it after a little editing. I do have themes I want to explore with the book, and things I want to say. But i don't really try much with very technical or pretty writing. When I do it doesn't come off right to me, plus I haven't written much. I'm hoping to write something fun to read but with enough depth to the character and cohesion between events that the reader can realize the sort of ideas I'm trying to talk about.

[Anonymous No.19267743]

>>19261994
When I first read this it seemed cringey, but a second detailed read-through gives a better impression.
I like the agent character. Saved from being a cliche given that he shows some sympathy, and that's refreshing.
Arthur sucks and I'm not sure this excerpt does him justice, in the first 1/3 there are five clear examples of how frenzied he is, but what you should be doing is to have 1-2 strong statements about that at most, and then let the reader intuit the rest from his dialogue... show, don't tell.
"Arthur on the verge of crying" is incredibly cringe paragraph and docks a point by itself.
The style is somewhat stilted and that's distracting personally.
I would say a 4/10 overall, there are strengths, but the weaknesses prevail. sorry anon
My biggest advice is to read more books, and to proofread. Don't be discouraged either way

[Anonymous No.19267803]

>>19267743
Thank you for the feedback anon. Yeah it does kind of go off the rails in that paragraph about him seeing strange things. Arthur does suck at this point in the story. He sort of just lucked into money and has been wasting time. Overall a mediocre guy. His descent in paranoia about alien retaliation isnt much about the aliens but him taking responsibility for just being a wasteful bastard who's carelessness killed not just a creatures life but all the implications its life could have afforded people on earth.
I havent found good ways to give him some solid positive personality traits.
You're write about he style. I havent read consistently since my highschool/early college days and this excerpt is from a 20k words first draft that has had zero editing and proof reading. You should see some of the other parts that i've written, its pretty goofy. I'm new to a creative writing project of this size so I figured a lot of the weirdness I would address just by a re-write after the first draft is done.

[Anonymous No.19268237]

If ye faggots happen to keep this thread alive, I'll tell ya the tale of "An old faggot I met in town"

Town is what we "country bumpkins" call Dublin (which is the capital city of Ireland (for you especially simple yanks))

I'll also do some ratings

[Anonymous No.19268279]

>>19250252
>ask to go on a date
>knight
They don't go together. A modern or even a post-modern conception in a medieval setting. Come on dude. But the writing is good.

[Anonymous No.19268529]

>>19250252
>dangerously quiet
>hummed thoughtfully
>blurted incredulously
>asked dumbly
>admitted cluelessly

written by a high schooler, holy kek
read "on writing" by stephen king. it will convey to you the idea that adverbs are literally satan. this is not necessarily true, but you need to be exposed to the idea. unless you are trolling, in which case, well done. but who knows, 50 shades of gay got published and made millions. SAO is the most popular light novel. who gives a shit really?

[Anonymous No.19268543]

>>19268279
Kek :
Prius to Titus: have you yet received your 4% the sushi shop still owes you?
Titus: after I praise Jupiter at the temple I will go pay him a visit.

[Anonymous No.19268566]

Should’ve just posted in this thread to begin with but I’m not a regular here, yet

[Anonymous No.19268807]

>>19268566
Go back to your coomer board, filthy women-disrespecter commer!

[Anonymous No.19268954]

>>19268543
This has potential LOL

[Anonymous No.19269146]

>>19250252
this is intentionally cliche you retards

[Anonymous No.19269172]

Page 1: You've heard it all before.
[followed by 300 blank pages]
Booker Prize 2022

[Anonymous No.19269940]

>>19268807

[Anonymous No.19269942]

>>19268807
>commer
The pooster compulsively presses "Post", he can not help himself, he does not care about spelling, he gives no second thought to the immortal message he has etched in eternity, a reflection of himself. I..... must..... POOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!!!!

[Anonymous No.19270063]

>>19269942
I got to poooooooooost ! Haaaaaaarg...aaaaaaaaaargh...

[Anonymous No.19270156]

>>19250330
Reminds me of my Bertram character also no bully pls

[Anonymous No.19270322]

>>19261994
Great premise, but you really need to work on your dialogue, it doesn't sound very natural.

[Anonymous No.19270355]

>>19270156
>His eyes are, however, heard miles afar in every direction as the tortured howls of a malnourished stray dog.
If this is bait, you got me good.

[Anonymous No.19271160]

Not writing anything at the moment; here's something I'm pulling out of my ass.

_"Alright, Bart, see ya later, man," Jim smirked, punctuated by the clinkling of the doorbell, before Bart could get a word out.
_As he got on the bus, Jim giggled to himself about that name. Bart. A short, curt, terse utterance. Short for Bartholomew. Funny that such a savage grunt could be short for such a needlessly extravagant name. Bar-tho-lo-mew. Jim likened it to a regal fanfare of trumpets, the sonic wings of a king - the fattened calf for whatever bastardized interpretation of God. What self-important sire would christen his kin with the Civi War general name of Bar-tho-lo-mew in our modern era? An onomatopoeia for a leotarded dancer carrying spinning plates with rabbits in hats and somersaulting his way off of a steep hillside into a dirty campy mess.
_Jim, he thought. James. Jimmy. A gas station attendant from the 50's. Your fishing buddy on the weekend after a long week of working at the office and beating your wife. Someone you'd share a beer with and wake up on his couch. That's a modern American name. A name that stands the test of time. All the way back to Jesus-times.
_Jim mentally masturbated to this comparison, lost in the vibrations of the tires on the long road.

_"Look at you, smiling like your shit doesn't stink." The sound jolted Jim back into reality. "I know what you did, punk."
_Jim looked over to see a man a bit older than him. The man's brow hung over his eyes, only visible as pinpricks of light. Two sharp furrows radiated from his nose, deepened by uncountable years of scowling. He slouched towards Jim with his ankles under the seat, a cat waiting for the perfect moment to jump its prey.
_"You don't look like the kind of motherfucker I could give a second chance," the man lowed with a careful pace. "We're stayin' on this bus and you're bringin' that back, so help me God."
_Jim feigned apathy. The man lifted from his seat and sat next to him, his hand laying lightly on his back, poised to grab his collar on a hairpin trigger. He smelled of sweat and metal.
_"Look, I get it," the man said. "Fresh out of school. Into the real world. With good grades, who would anyone be to get in your way?" He grabbed Jim's shoulder and pulled him in. "You don't know what the fuck you're in for, kid. You don't know jack shit."

[Anonymous No.19271769]

>>19271160
for me this is an 8.5/10, if it was polished up a bit it would be a 9
great job sir

[Anonymous No.19272033]

>>19271160
very good and miles ahead of most tards here. perhaps a bit disgusting, though that might be the point. only change I would make:

The man's brow hung over his eyes, [which were] only visible as pinpricks of light.

optionally adding "two" before pinpricks, but you already used it in immediately afterward so it would be kind of gay

[Anonymous No.19272045]

>>19271160
>>19271769
>>19272033
Samefagg

[Anonymous No.19272048]

>>19272045
cope that your shit isn't 1/10th as well written as that. feel free to prove me wrong.

[Anonymous No.19272113]

>>19250252
Worthless.
>>19250330
Vulgar.
>>19250621
Work on your mechanics.
>>19250756
Utterly vapid.
>>19250804
Pointless imagery.
>>19250957
Nah.
>>19252304
Smells too Australian to be of any merit.
>>19252712
Nah.
>>19252757
More pointless imagery.
>>19253278
Bunch of hot air. If academics could write worth a damn they wouldn't be academics.
>>19253329
Snoozeworthy.
>>19253329
Capitalising Words isn't a shortcut to worthwhile symbolism.
>>19254028
Banal.
>>19254150
Meaningless.
>>19254348
Still more pointless imagery.
>>19254396
I chuckled.
>>19255572 >>19255584 >>19255597 >>19255630 >>19255710
Good but the personification of abstracta is totally obnoxious.
>>19256361
People like you give present tense a bad name.
>>19256411
Immensely belabours a totally simple point. Not worth reading.
>>19256651
Bait, but unfunny.
>>19256737
Actually good past the *sound effect*.
>>19258331
Workable.
>>19259757
Wop jibber. Why bother posting this?
>>19259831 >>19259836
Nothing special. Just barely workable.
>>19259950
A hollow parade of derivative stereotype.
>>19260250
You have said nothing.
>>19261994
Good enough for what it is but at least learn the basics of punctuation.
>>19264920
Fine.
>>19268566
If that's what gets you going.
>>19271160
Pointless.

[Anonymous No.19272587]

>>19270322
Thanks anon, and yeah its pretty stilted. I'm new to this and sort of just trying to put everything on paper so I can get a feel for how the story starts, develops and ends. I've been doing zero proof reading or rewriting. I've sort of just been expecting to make big changes as well as focus on making it sound a lot more natural in the rewrites.

[Anonymous No.19272903]

>>19272113
I’m glad all my posts were good anon

[Anonymous No.19272921]

>>19268566
Your character voice is too weak for the character you're writing. He's a violent rapist, his thoughts should be loud and exciting.

[Anonymous No.19273034]

>>19272045
wrong

[Anonymous No.19273040]

>>19272113
Bless you anon for the effortpost

[Anonymous No.19273048]

>>19272033
I try to have brevity in my writing so I don't come across as a thesaurus-humping pseud, so I think both readings would work, but I suppose you're right in that I shouldn't go too overboard and lose my readers.

>>19272045
>waa you're getting compliments but i'm not waa samefag waa

>>19272113
No shit it's pointless, it's just some shit I threw at the wall in a few minutes.

[Anonymous No.19273649]

>>19273048
it's good for something you just whipped up in five minutes. definitely makes me want to know more about the characters.

[Anonymous No.19273791]

>>19259831
>>19259836
I would love to read more of this, you have a very distinct writing that stands out among the other posts here. Is this a work in progress or just something off the cuff?

[Anonymous No.19273820]

HOSPITAL BED

The rubbish bin reeks. Banana skins, a half punnet of pureed peach, homogeneous pig-slop. The scent makes my stomach merrily go round. Today lunch was a cold soup of leftovers: discarded supermarket produce unfit for sale. I hereby award the chef negative three Michelin Stars. The bathroom drain plays music for me; the ensemble: a pipe-organ strangling a cat. I wish I could help it. It's stuck in the pipes, desperate for escape. Here kitty kitty. It scratches and strikes, tail caught in the rollers. It struggles all night. I know this room like the back of my cannula'd hand. I am its expert, it my field of research. The corner houses a wall-mounted alcohol dispenser: a brand of liqueur I've discovered is not for humans. I can recite you verbatim the laminate guides for the washing of hands, donning of gloves, rinsing of eyes, and disposal of syringes. I know which switch for which light, how to bell the nurse in the dark, and how to adjust my headrest in varying angles of agony. The wall clock does not tick, its seconds hand in constant motion in the fashion of the latest Apple Watch. What use is millisecond precision to me? I exist in hours: the hours between obs, between meals, between shits. The sheets smell of sweat: the putrid sweat only alcoholics know. It's inescapable: in our hair, in our clothes, in the air around us. I shower, yet no matter how long and hard I lathe, the stench follows. The moment I slip into the permeated bed I return to my pre-showered form. Disconnected from the heart-rate monitor. Flat lines. No pulse. No pressure. No saturation. Nothing. I'm dead to this machine. “The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night,” someone said. Beep beep. A nurse pushes tubes in my nostrils, twin ice-picks, deeper and deeper digs this enthused lobotomist. A therapist drills me. I know all the boxes and how to check them. Yes sir, yes ma'am. I'm given pamphlets, papers: War and Peace. They say I can go. It was a good holiday.

[Anonymous No.19273850]

Now I'm working on a spy thriller

[Anonymous No.19274047]

>>19273791
thank you c: its a novella i am writing for a class. it is a series of vingettes of a house characterizing different eras aswell as a growing family. it starts in post war era america and goes to around the 90s. i just started it.

[Anonymous No.19274054]

>>19273850
It's definitely rusty but the image of "Recovering from the blow to his nuts Jack looked over the edge of the plane" is hilarious

[Anonymous No.19275210]

>>19273820
Now this is quality

[Anonymous No.19275494]

>>19273820
I like it, especially the second half.

[Anonymous No.19275831]

[Anonymous No.19275834]

>>19275831
Part 2.

[Anonymous No.19275841]

>>19275831
>>19275834
Don't mind the bad spelling errors and shitty interchanges between past and present tense. I didn't get a chance to thoroughly edit.

[Anonymous No.19275850]

>>19275831

I really like it

[Anonymous No.19276645]

>>19273850
This is unironically perfect, my sides are in absolute orbit.

[Anonymous No.19276754]

>>19273850
You could absolutely get paid for this.

[Anonymous No.19277187]

>>19275494
>>19275210
thanks anons

[Anonymous No.19277276]

Women believe, or at least often pretend to believe, that all our tenderness for them springs from desire; that we love them when we have not for a time enjoyed them, and dismiss them when we are sated, or to express it more precisely, exhausted. There is no truth in this idea, though it may be made to appear true. When we are rigid with desire, we are apt to pretend a great tenderness in the hope of satisfying that desire; but at no other time are we in fact so liable to treat women brutally, and so unlikely to feel any deep emotion but one.

[Anonymous No.19277625]

>>19277276
I love women. Not the sight of women or the smell of women, which so often disappoint. Not the faces of women or their clothes, tacky wrappers on candy bars. Not the interior world of women, which I often doubt reaches far beyond the walls of their vaginal canals or bowels. Not the social world of women, which bickers and smiles, laughs at beauty and cries at nothing. I love women in total. For what antagonist in life better than one more beautiful than yourself, more successful in ease, more happy and less aware? One who is loved from all angles and who, even yourself, you cannot help but love? What more worthy struggle could be made of our lives?

[Anonymous No.19277639]

>>19273820
I really enjoyed this anon, keep writing!

[Anonymous No.19277796]

>>19277625
wow

[Anonymous No.19278147]

>>19250252
Is this a joke?
Did you make it purposefully shit in a "not overtly obvious way but still shit like something an 18 year old who doesn't read much could write"?

[Anonymous No.19278762]

>>19278147
I didn't write it to bamboozle anyone. I just wrote what I wanted to read.

[Anonymous No.19278856]

>>19250252
** I don't like:
- dangerously quiet voice
- long second
- like a kid receiving his first gift
- blerted incredulously

7/10