/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.1989148]

Hey faggots! Have any of you ever written, planned to write, or are currently writing a book?

[Pointman No.1989158]

Currently, yes.

[Anonymous No.1989160]

>>1989148
I'm thinking about planning one but I'm not ready yet. I think about it a little bit every day without touching it.

[Anonymous No.1989162]

>>1989158
about? how many words / how much of it is completed (pre-draft whatever) /?

[Anonymous No.1989165]

bump

[Anonymous No.1989167]

I prefer short stories to novels.

[Pointman No.1989169]

>>1989162
>>1989162

I'm currently at 5000-6000 words. I took this up but a month ago or something, so I'm pretty proud of myself even for such a hop in focus to write.

The first section has been drafted out - I just like to take breaks between writing is all.

Here's the x-bawks hueg 3 paragraph synopsis:

The story takes place primarily in a house the size of a crawlspace, owned by a 23 year old man named Clyde, where he spends most of his days imagining his perfect woman - he draws shoddy images, writes poetry, and incites himself to have common dreams about her, all while commonly pleasuring himself to the thought of ever finding such. The book is divided into 2 parts: the first, titled "Awake" revolves solely in the place of Clyde's home, circulating solely on his lack of passion/self doubt among his work, his serious in and out depression, previous interest in the military (the section holds multiple flashbacks to his training experience, based on trigger words), an extended dream with a girl, which includes inner turmoil within Clyde between his sexual nature and the need to find more so along with the struggle to understand what is the middle of these lines, and attempting suicide at the end of the section by trying to jump from his window – the section ends with a poem that blows out of the window onto the ground nearby written by Clyde.

[Pointman No.1989170]

>>1989169
>>1989169


The section, near the middle, derives into another half-section describing his meeting with a girl in a park - the meeting is pleasant, with them sharing adoration on certain aspects of their lives until she invites him for a car ride back to her place. Clyde begins to hyperventilate in the car, deforming the reality around him and sending him into a state of shock - the girl begins to discuss her family life to Clyde, unbest knowing he is slipping away from reality, and the emotion in the girl about how her brother, whom she wanted to have an incestuous relationship with, never cared for her in such way seemingly parallels the heightened pressure of Clyde being with her. The section ends with her stopping in front of her house, asking Clyde if he had ever loved somebody while he lets his body sleep.

[Pointman No.1989171]

>>1989170
>>1989170

The final section is "While sleeping..."; this section begins with Clyde preparing himself to go out with a girl he had met previously, who is unnamed. A portion of the first part is Clyde imaging various scenarios involving the objects he uses to prepare himself of how the evening will occur, fantasizing himself early on as a handsome and daring fellow and eventually, as he continues to let his imagination run, the ideas turn rancid, inciting Clyde to sulk into depression – Clyde, hastily prepared and unkempt, leaves the house anyway to avoid such. As he drives, Clyde deteriorates into a mess of emotion over the clash between who Clyde wants the girl to be, who he remembers he to be, and who she really is, the section often referring or retelling moments from the park girl’s car in the perspective of the girl watching Clyde, yet Clyde moments return where Clyde is simply realizing he is watching himself. As the radio dies out when Clyde swerves off the road, nearly slamming into a wall, Clyde sits in static shortly before walking the rest of the way, down the road, admiring the scenery to that in his dreams. At the end of the road, Clyde enters a diner and sees a crowd of people eating, to which he slowly looks around at the faces, manuvering the diner as he does, looking for the girl – he finds her in the corner, at which, the other patrons disappear and the table she is sitting at is candlelit. The novel ends with Clyde sitting down, suddenly in tears and the girl looking at him, her face blurry and the entire scene collapsing.

[Anonymous No.1989172]

>>1989170
>>1989169

autobiographies don't count

[Pointman No.1989174]

>>1989172
>>1989172

You've never read a novel by a Russian apparently.

[Anonymous No.1989175]

I'm planning on completing Nanowrimo this year. I have a loose idea of what I'm doing.

[Anonymous No.1989176]

>>1989174
umad? I was joking you faggot

[Anonymous No.1989179]

>>1989176
I think he was joking back, although somewhat dispiritedly.

[Anonymous No.1989178]

>>1989171
Eh, I'd read it. Work hard. I'll remember to get it when you're done and post it here.

[Pointman No.1989183]

>>1989176
>>1989176

> u mad?

No, I am happy because we were both joking!

>>1989178
>>1989178

Thanks.

[Anonymous No.1989462]

>>1989169
First paragraph is something I would read about. 2nd two were tl;dr and I couldn't be bothered but only because I'm tired.

[Anonymous No.1989652]

I'm currently writing a science fiction story. I've written about 25,000 words so far, and I really like where it's going.

[Anonymous No.1989669]

I'm writing a short story. I'm about four pages in. I estimate it'll be done at about six to eight

[Anonymous No.1989895]

Wrote a ~40,000 word story about a guy that is killed in a war and is cloned and brought back to life by the opposing side who killed him. He begins to regain his memories after a series of triggers and plots to blow up their military base and a few key industrial areas and then flee.

I started it when I was like 15 and finished it around 18, it was pretty terrible but I read through it every once in a while for the hell of it.

[Dr. Seussicide (SLAF) No.1989933]

I wrote a story entitled: Never Trust a Crocodile, They Refuse To Give Sound Advice.

It involved Nathon Fillion punching me in the face at an Aids Wolf show. Then I met a girl who wouldn't shut up about Television Personalities, the band, not TV celebs. We flew to new york with wings we stole off angels. While in New York, I punched Tao Lin and stole his lunch money.

It got rejected by all the publishers I sent it to.

I generally start writting, but never finsih what I'm writing weither it be poetry, short stories or a full length novel. I get bored with it, and start something new.

[Jacob !!fcZ2i3mPUJZ No.1989989]

I'm currently writing one, actually.

[Anonymous No.1990402]

Im writing a story, sort of
My imagination runs wild, so nothing I write is ever connected
But lately all my dreams have been a story, but not in chronological order, so Ive been keeping a log of my dreams so far
Tonight I decided to finally take it to the actual writing phase

[Anonymous No.1990505]

I have a sci-fi novel that I have been planning/working on for too long. I have a 200 page little notebook filled with plot devices, concept art, characters and the mythos of the world, elements unique to that universe etc.

I've started, got 80-120 pages in and tore it up... Over... And over. and over andohoghevnoeia;ghre;

;_;

[Anonymous No.1990510]

I've switched over to writing nonfiction. I should've done it years ago. My fiction was okay, but came far too slowly. Now I'm writing a good few pages a day.

[Anonymous No.1990515]

I wrote a novel for somebody i used to know. Got it published and sent them a copy along with an 80 page letter professing my love for them. Never got a reply. fuckit im going to the gym pz niggas

[Anonymous No.1990518]

>>1989148
currently have 65,000-ish words in the rough draft, and by rough draft i mean you could use it in the place of sand paper in most respects.
I've also done some sci-fi shorts that were pretty decent.