I want to make it

[Anonymous No.21791360]

Someone please give me a writing prompt. I feel like my writing is actively getting worse because I have no guidance or structure. Would love it if someone more experienced than me could critically analyze my writing and tell me where I'm fucking up.

[Anonymous No.21791366]

>>21791360
you wrote this?

[Anonymous No.21791372]

>>21791360
Write about an alternate human society that would have formed if we evolved with a single eye that wraps around our heads like a headband instead of two spheres in the front.

[Anonymous No.21791381]

>>21791366
Gravity's Rainbow? No, lmao. I did write the OP though.

>>21791372
I could try that. It's way out of my wheelhouse and I'm not sure what to do with it but I can try it.

[Anonymous No.21791387]

>>21791381
I believe in you. Think about how hard it would be to sneak up on people. Lincoln wouldn't have been shot. Stages would need to be redesigned. Maybe we wouldn't even have the concept of forward.

[Anonymous No.21791415]

is GR really that good? how does it differ from V.?

[Anonymous No.21791447]

>>21791415
more sex. more violence. more pynchonesque wacky cartoon scenes. I mean way more. And a much more satisfying ending IMO.

The themes range widley: the psychosocial
impacts of modernity on culture and interpersonal relationships in particular with some really damning implications for English culture specifically, the state of the average Joe under the weight of an ever increasing state of bureaucratization and control from both capitalism and the government, and the great chance at liberation from these forms of repression that we are capable of due to our unique stage in historical development which offers us a trove of analyzational tools to render these power structures inert. But, that's not really what I read Pynchon for honestly. His handling of these complex topics is masterful and his buttery smooth prose only heightens the sense of mysteriousness and paranoia that he weaves into the plot with each turn of the bureaucratic screw. Truly a wonderful novel

[Anonymous No.21791520]

>>21791447
How can you not mention reverse pavlovian causality?

[Anonymous No.21791522]

>>21791360
write about the life of someone in a strict religious family. pick any religion. what's it like growing up in that. this one is interesting cause you can look up how these strict religious families work and have a very clear image of day to day life and from there it's mostly an exercise in empathy.

[Anonymous No.21791542]

>>21791447
More war too
>>21791520
He also missed the war passages

[Anonymous No.21791544]

[Anonymous No.21791546]

>>21791544
this pic always gets me

[Anonymous No.21791578]

>>21791372
It was a medical miracle, this device. If tailored to the individual, it could restore the gift of sight.

And yet, now that the research was complete, it only appeared to be a lens with no seam. Sykes had to regularly remind himself of the consequences. For centuries, myopia and astigmatism had rendered seventy-five percent of the middle class unemployable. Those who could not afford lens implants could never keep. It was a horrible predicament. Scientists everywhere hypothesized that, if abvisia were curable, four of the last five recessions would’ve been avoided. The Fichbowl wasn’t just a lens with no seam. It was a medical revolution.

A giddy young Sykes stubbed his toe on his chair and screamed. His body convulsed but the glass torus remained still. He calmed himself, then stubbed it on the comms room door. Perhaps this was also a solvable problem. It seemed absurd to think about. Then again, he was the man that invented the Fichbowl. Nothing was impossible. Just unnecessary.

He turned on the mic and tuned the knobs. It took a while. His left forearm was uncoordinated and his right hurt from holding the box. Like many others of his cohort, his muscles had atrophied. A phantom of his mother’s voice nagged him. You should’ve walked more as a child, she said. Use it or lose it, she said, and walking was all he had until he was old enough to work out properly. Instead he spent his time reading books and watching video cassettes. He argued with the voice, as he did when he was young, that it wasn’t the only way. Cave paintings depicted men with spears and rotund objects. Massage tools, according to historians. Another way had been lost to time and by the time he was old enough, it would be found again. It never was.

He tuned the dials of his radio to 80.20 Hz. On the other end, the Myrtle and Myrtle receptionist called for a Mr. Maury.

“Ah, Sykes, my friend! How can I help you?”

Sykes paused, wondering if he’d overestimated his patent’s value. Then he reminded himself of the consequences. The Fichbowl wasn’t just a patent. It was a medical revolution.

“I’ve done it,” he panted, a painful smile possessing his face as he said it out loud. This happened every time he talked about the Fichbowl out loud. “I’ve found a cure for abvisia. It’s simple, strudy, and seamless. I’ve fixed the vision problem.” His own words echoed in his mind, once again reminding him of the consequences. “I’ve fixed the vision problem!”

Maury sighed. “Is this the design you mentioned during the summer conference?”

“Yeah. That’s the one.” Smiling made it hard to speak slowly.

“Dr. Lopinsky... I’m afraid that your device won’t have any use in the real world.”

An uncomfortable pause. The faint buzzing of a quick fly was clear.

“What do you mean?” Sykes’ face muscles finally reset. The buzzing subsided. “This is huge!”

“Yes... but who'd want something like this?”

[Anonymous No.21791585]

>>21791372
>>21791578
Sykes was aghast. “Everyone! Everyone wants something like this. They need something like this.”

“Maybe. But it isn’t viable.” Mr. Myrtle sighed. “Your potential customers, the visually challenged middle class… they’re unemployed. An initial run of your, ah, tubes would cost a fortune. We can’t afford to make it. They can’t afford to buy it. Even if they could, why would they choose to wear a jar over their heads when a lens implant costs less?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Neither man spoke for the next minute.

Sykes was stung under his chin. He swiveled his eyes back and found a quick fly. As a child he was afraid of them. His mother blamed the history books for this. In the old days, they’d killed off rats, pigeons, owls, and most of Eurasia. It made sense that he’d be next in line. Nowadays, killing them made him feel empowermed. He swatted it swiftly with girlish slap. Normally a flyswatter was the only way to do this, but he was enraged by the injustices of Mr. Maury. It was this pure rage that empowered him, and enabled him to outsmart and outspeed the quick fly. Like Deku from My Hero Academia.

Mr. Maury sighed. Sykes calmed down. He didn’t seem to mean malice, even if he was standing in the way of progress.

“Listen, kid, I know you’re trying to do good here. The world just isn’t ready for it yet. Why don’t you try something else? I’m sure you could go through your notes and find a way to make, ah, a nifty little thing that stops redeye? I’ve been using the same pillow for a month and it hurts when I try to look behind me. I’m sure that’d help the world a lot too. And you could probably make it affordable too.”

“That isn’t my area of research,” Sykes grumbled. “And who would buy that?”

“Hmm… ah, then how about something to help the kids with no depth evaluation? Like a tiny speed gun, a wearable to tell if something’s coming at them too fast. Or maybe like, ah, I don’t know… a thing like the bats do with sound. You could use smell as a radar, or even light. Wouldn’t that be neat? A second eye that’d tell you how far things are. I think that’d be neat,” he chuckled, “Lord knows my toes would love it if I didn’t stub my toes every time I—“

“You’re an idiot.” Sykes frowned. “You don’t understand science. You don’t understand people. You don’t understand this world. You couldn’t tell a life changing patent from used bubble wrap.”

The dying fly twitched on the radio table. Maury began to console Sykes, who immediately changed the channel to 93.45 Hz. New sounds filled the room. The chorus to Part-Time Lover filled the room, attempting to serenade the young man. It was beautiful. Sykes had heard that it was even better in person. So long as Stevie Wonder wasn’t feeling the music that night. If he shook his head in front of you, his spinning, lifeless iris would haunt you forever.

[Anonymous No.21791588]

>>21791578
>>21791585
Will try to post an edit tomorrow, there's a lot I wish I could've done better. Especially with the humor that just feels kind of... throw in. But I still think this is a decent representation of my writing, even if it's a little shabby and disorganized .

>>21791522
Interesting. I'll try this one tomorrow. It's getting late here, but I hope you'll be around to see my attempt at this prompt. Would love to hear your feedback.

[Anonymous No.21791596]

>>21791415
He brings is signals intelligence officer time in the army during WW2 to bear, a lot of spook shit for being published in its day.

[Anonymous No.21792415]

Bump. Just woke up.

[Anonymous No.21792418]

>>21791588
Breddy gud anon, but no one will buy it. Needs more sex and violence. A lot more.

[Anonymous No.21792462]

>>21792418
The story's too short for me to meaningfully add those.

[Anonymous No.21792479]

>>21792462
Listen, kid, I know you’re trying to do good here. The world just isn’t ready for it yet. Why don’t you try something else? I’m sure you could go through your notes and find a way to make, ah, a nifty little reference to someone getting their eye ring sliced with a razor blade? Or some gal getting a serious infection when some guy came and she couldn’t quite dodge the spray?

In all seriousness though, I enjoyed what you wrote.

[Anonymous No.21792515]

>>21791447
Get back to work, Ruggles.

[Anonymous No.21792629]

>>21792479
Thanks anon, I really appreciate it. As much as crave criticism, it warms my heart when someone tells me they enjoy what I wrote.

[Anonymous No.21792636]

>>21792629
I can offer a few genuine criticisms if it helps scratch that itch but I’m not sure how constructive they’d be

[Anonymous No.21792705]

>>21792636
Please, by all means. Every viewpoint helps.

[Anonymous No.21792991]

>>21792705
>He swiveled his eyes back
Eyes or eye? Probably too short a format to fully explore the nature of a circular monocular, but inconsistent.
Same sort of idea with Stevie Wonder. I dig the reference but is it a single orb rotating in a circular orbit or a torus shape with an iris-like band around the circumference?
Almost have to develop a whole new vocabulary around the topic. I mean you could go as far as to try and explore sentient life with complete radial symmetry, but that’s too much for a short story and I seem to remember other sci-fi authors attempting it, so it runs the risk of being derivative or just incomprehensible. Cheers.

[Anonymous No.21793128]

>>21791415
V. is juvenilia

[Anonymous No.21793136]

>>21791596
damn, he served when he was 4?

[Anonymous No.21793344]

>>21793128
How?

[Anonymous No.21793383]

>>21792991
Fair enough. The 'eyes' was an error on my part, but the exploration of the topic had to be cut short. I'd have to read up on a lot of history and biology to make it fully fleshed out and that seemed like too much work for a short exercise.

What about the writing? Any obvious flaws, like conflicting metaphors, poor diction, stuff like that?

[Anonymous No.21793424]

>>21791381
>I did write the OP though.
IT sucks

[Anonymous No.21793442]

>>21793424
:(

Is my writing in >>21791578 any better?

[Anonymous No.21793452]

>>21793442
You are a terrible writer. I hate you.

[Anonymous No.21793471]

>>21793452
I hope this isn't earnest criticism.

>>21791522
It might take me a while to get to this because of work but I haven't forgotten about it.

[Anonymous No.21793481]

>>21793344
It's a word I just learned today in my Merriam-Websters so I have to cram it in a discussion about my favorite author, Thomas Pynchon. Please be nice to me.

[Anonymous No.21793594]

first things first. learn how to read. there's a writing general thread up at almost all times on this board. you didn't need to kill a thread for this.

[Anonymous No.21793807]

>>21793594
I've used the writing general before. I was actually a regular last year. It just seems to me that the scope of criticism I can find there is very narrow.

A part of me was also hoping that, because I deliberately avoided /wg/, some people would come into the thread and rip my writing to shreds, giving me some insight into what I was doing wrong. It's stupid, I know, but I'm desperate.

[Anonymous No.21794366]

>>21793807
i'm busy working right now but i gave it a cursory skim and based on that i noticed you're overwriting. don't need to talk about someones facial muscles, a fly buzzing, etc. etc. and all that dialog all around a scene of someone twisting nobs. pretend you're telling a story to a friend, as it happened, and be clear rather than trying to pad your word count with descriptions of every atom in the room that the scene takes place in

[Anonymous No.21794785]

>>21791522
>>21793471
Finished the first draft. This might legitimately be the worst thing I've ever read. I need to learn to do research and also how to write a character.

[Anonymous No.21794862]

>>21793344
The writing is terrible and frequently reads lika a college student wrote it. Albeit the collegiateness is present in all of Pynchon.

[Anonymous No.21794957]

>>21791522
Aisha knelt and prayed, as she’d done for years, and as long as she could remember. But her heart wasn’t in it.

Her mind was at Liam’s birthday party. She’d only seen grown-up parties in movies, and even those were few and far between. Her friends said that they did not compare to the real thing. She wouldn’t know if she didn’t try it for herself. Aisha didn’t believe them, but this was Liam, and how could any time be bad with Liam around? Ah, there she went, thinking about that boy again.

She quickly glanced at the solid green mat beside her. Her mother was deep in prayer. Allah had always heard her words. Aisha was not so lucky. Did her mother ever feel the way she felt? Probably not. She wasn’t pulled aside at the age of seven, from her life of sand-pails and playing house and chasing boys, because her father never had to leave for Iraq. He was always in Iraq with her. She grew up in Iraq and her sisters and aunts and everyone there wore a hijab just like hers. There were no parties, no scolding, no beatings when she wouldn’t wear a hijab, no trips to the mosque warning her about her eternal punishment…


It was 11AM. A black SUV bounced in the kitchen window. Aisha had been watching it since she put the tea to boil. Emma and Charlotte were squealing. They’ jumped up and down the sidewalk. This had gone on all week, on the bus to school, at school, on the bus back from school, all the time. They couldn’t wait. It’d been a month since they’d partied. And this was Liam’s birthday party. Aisha didn’t share the excitement, but deep down, she understood. It couldn’t partake in the celebration though. The party was out of the question; even fantasizing about it was forbidden. She’s sinned from birth to the day she dawned the hijab, and Allah didn’t have sympathy for sinners. If she wanted to reach heaven, she’d have to look away and do her duties. Eventually.

A forceful tap from the back interrupted her thoughts. Aisha shuddered and turned. Her mother’s resting scowl appeared behind her. She was reminded to turn off the stove. Aisha obliged. In the faint reflections of the window pane, she noticed her mother watching the car. She turned to confirm it and, as if Allah had snitched to her mother, she was once again met with cold eyes. Cold ran down her ears and neck to the base of her spine.

“You should know better than this,” she said, stone-faced.

Aisha nodded and lowered her head.

Her mother seemed upset. She smiled, then pinched Aisha’s cheeks. “I know it’s hard, binty. But when you’re older you will be happy that you followed the path of Allah. You may not understand now. But ommi was once a girl like you. Ommi knows what you’re going through and only wants what’s best for you.”

She hugged her daughter. Aisha lowered her head into her mother’s chest. Her arms though, they stayed by her side. In her peripheral vision, the car departed.

[Anonymous No.21794965]

>>21791522
>>21794957
Hour after hour of study and prayer, with some chores to break up the routine: that was a normal Saturday for Aisha. An only child until just months ago, she’d never known anything better. Until now. She’d fantasized through the mundanities of her day. Allah would not be happy, but it was too late. By 6PM, she could taste the punch in each red cup. She could hear the giggles of her girlfriends. She could feel the touch of Liam, guiding her through the party, introducing her one by one to his friends. Steve, this is Aisha. Erik, this is Aisha. Hey everyone, this is Aisha, and can you believe she’s never been to a party in her life?

Her desk fan turned towards her. The pages of her book fluttered, brining her back to reality. For twenty minutes she’d been staring at Punnett squares but she couldn’t tell them from the rectangles she’d studied the day prior. Baba’s soccer game boomed through the rugs. Each cheer, from inside and outside the TV, vibrated the legs of her study chair.

No, that wasn’t right.

This was her fault. Her fantasies were getting in the way. Did her mother put away the Quran when her father was watching TV? Did her father stop reading it if her mother was crying in the other room? Tears welled up in her eyes and her hands began to shake. She was not worthy of heaven. She was not. Was this a test from Allah, or just who she was deep down? Either way, she had failed them all. Ommi said she’d felt this way but Aisha knew she didn’t. She saw in in her eyes. It was calculated, not empathetic. She couldn’t tell her mother about these struggles. Baba would beat her before he’d listen. And yet, despite all of this, she could not stop thinking about life outside her hijab. The hijab that she wore, even in the darkness of her room, with no one around to watch her. Her hands, massaging away her thoughts, moved to her temples, then her ears, then…

Her father called from below. It might have been dinner time. Aisha, who had her hands on her hijab, recoiled in fear. Damned, damned, damned. There wasn’t a way out for her. She couldn’t hold her head up anymore; resting it on her desk, she broke into silent tears. She tried to hide the heaving of her chest and the hiccups but each attempt to push them only intensified them further. Her world came spiralling, spiralling all the way downwards…

A faint ring made it through her sobs. Her phone flashed on and off. On the cold wood of her desk she sprawled her arms, her fingers tapping the phone to bring it closer. The smell of spices filled the room as she mouthed the texts.

[Anonymous No.21794986]

>>21794957
>>21794965
It was Caroline. “They said no to the party?”

“Yeah,” Aisha lied, sniffling. Caroline immediately responded with an “aww.”

Damned, damned, damned. She even lied to her friends. Her heartthrobs rang through her feeble, hungry body. She’d been studying for hours and her parents hadn’t given her a morsel. Dinner was when her father decided, and even then, she’d have to make it.

Then came one from Liam: “Sorry you couldn’t make it.” Her mind immediately went blank. Fear, guilt, all gone.

“Me too.” She said. In another frame of mind, she wouldn’t be so calm texting him back.

“We missed you a lot. Wish you could’ve made it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond. But even with the butterflies in her stomach, she knew she had to end it all here. Trembling fingers missed the phone screen that couldn’t have been an eight of an inch away. The weight of nothing was burdensome. There was no guilt. Just displeasure and a feeling of malice. Years of second-hand Quran verses had not warned her about this. But she’d done the right thing before and it didn’t feel like this.

Another ring. This time, matched by one at the doorbell.

“Caroline and Emma are bringing you cake.”

“They’ll try to bring you to Justine’s.”

“We’ll have a little afterparty there. Think you can sneak out one time for me?”

She’d never typed ‘yes’ so fast in her life.

[Anonymous No.21794999]

>>21794957
>>21794965
>>21794986
Botched the ending HARD, but I basically rewrote it, and this was getting too long for a 4chan exercise so I had to stop it. It's the worst thing I've written so far, but hopefully it'll just make my flaws as a writer clearer.

[Anonymous No.21795564]

>>21791544
wait, so rocket was a benis??

[Anonymous No.21796350]

>>21795564
Yeah