/lit/ - Literature

>>22169630
Yes it is and what are you going do about it? AA2 samefag wasup lol

>>17583398

It's fine but you have to present a conflict or desire within these two paragraphs. It's too descriptive. Run on monologues are rarely fun to read, unless you're Dost and none of us are. Give us a motivation to continue beyond merely establishing the facade of the character.

Sure, she's imprisoned. Does she want to escape? Has she resigned to her fate? I'd drop something very stark and unabstruse in, like, the second sentence.

>>17070103
Jannies assume this is them.

I was a freelance writer for 3 years after finishing grad school earning between $3k and $6k CAD per month working between 30-40 hour weeks. Now I'm a full-time in-house writer and research for a marketing company in Toronto grossing $63k per year plus bonuses at 25. It's soulless marketing, but I utilize my writing and research skills, work 20-35 hour weeks, and work from wherever I want (currently living in Paris, France, trapped here since the pandemic).

Not sure why people aspire to fortune. Now that I've secured a modest $63k remote gig with health insurance, I can't imagine wanting more. I can afford everything I need. I want for nothing. The only downside, if you can call it that, is writing/screen burnout. Hard to find the will to write fiction generatively when you're writing for work all day. I would, however, advise remote work positions. Very comfy, very lit.

>>16160031

I could probably lose the crying stuff then, maybe.

bump <3

Bump <3

>>16158994

oh no

>>16158970

Ah, thanks! Yeah, it's not for everyone.

>>16158868

Not sure what you mean here. You shouldn't write a query letter from the perspective of your character, should you?

>>16158853

That was not my intention, but it may work. More an allusion to that love is something planted and nurtured and not entirely controlled or predicted or top-down imposed like a lab or greenhouse. It's only an orchard because we lack the means to restrain it all. The fruit can renew, or it can spoil. I don't know. It felt like an orchard.

>>16158700

Sincere thanks, friend. Do you find the synopsis is clear, makes sense, builds intrigue?

>>16158759

Hey, thanks so much. This was supposed to be a short story, not a poem, but I guess it's more of the latter. Appreciate the appreciation.

Hey /lit/, how's this piece I wrote this morning?

ORCHARD OIL
She moved out.

Fifteen weeks already?

Seventeen since she wept in the doorway, sat while tears bubbled like tea.

When her cheeks dried she moved the ottoman upstairs.

Four weeks since I’d cried in a different doorway on a harder floor.

Today I drove fast and she, who is not her, was not alone.

Someone giddy and new.

She laughed and I was not alone.

Wheels turned in and outside of me.

She is adored as she wanted.

After, I searched for cute and snappy words.

That we lost our bodies and made homes of each others’ skin.

But it wasn’t that.

We kissed in the car.

A red light blinked on the dash of the rental.

We stopped because we thought the owner might’ve been watching through a hidden camera.

We were the only ones out there on the road.

My phone autocorrects honey to ho eyes, she said. “Isn’t that so dumb?”

I sagged like an old mattress in the driver’s seat.

Yeah, I said. “My phone autocorrects hi to please come back I’m sorry for everything.”

While we kissed I peaked at the backs of her eyes.

I searched in them for new life as a botanist looks under leaves for rare veins.

But this is no greenhouse or laboratory.

It’s only an orchard.

We make many little sounds from lungs.

I am restless and skeptical, like waiting for drugs to kick in.

Though I’ve taken none.

Right: the road, the road, the road.

“You ever been out here, this far in the country?”

“I don’t go east of Pape station,” she laughed.

The car was silent as forests turned to farmland, the trees sucked back underground.

We had something good going on.

The sun sank and it was dark.

Soon dawn would break.

Us.

Like oil, the more you have of love the more it dilutes.

“The car battery’s not great,” I whisper nervously.

“Think we’ll make it there?” she says.

Then the car dies.

Makes no sound.

The lights stay on and then they don’t.

Outside in the darkness, the fields nod their heads like ocean crests.

We sit in sinking ships.

I look to her across the passenger seat and ask:

“Should I have stopped?”

>>16158501

Also, I've considered changing the ending of the "Kevin suspects the cabal..." paragraph to:

>In confronting his fate, Kevin risks losing his only remaining possessions—his sanity, his sobriety, and his last hope for redemption.

>>16158501

By the way, if anyone's interested in reading it, it's here.

https://larthurhunt.files.wordpress.com/2020/08/green-country-anon-watermarked-1.pdf

Sorry for blasting this all over the place here lately. I still haven't gotten very good feedback, if any at all. I've recently written my first novel and, as you'd expect, it's not very good. Nonetheless, I'm tossing up a hail mary and sending it to agents. Is this query letter any good? Does it make sense? Is the pacing okay? I'm nervous to send this off in its current state.

>Dear [Ms./Mr.] First Last Name,

[Personalized salutation to the agent.]

Former corporate lawyer Kevin Little didn’t expect to become a groundskeeper at a golf course in his midlife. But neither did he foresee threatening his old boss with murder, shipping away to jail, becoming disbarred, and losing his wife and children.

Kevin, in recovery from alcoholism, takes solace in the golf course and its offbeat, supportive community of down-on-their-lucks. That is until he discovers unattended young children at every corner. They appear in basement corridors, closets, and behind locked doors. Kevin can’t figure out where they come from and who they are, but, more than that, they are a painful reminder of his own estranged family.

When Kevin finds a circle of ex-lawyers and retired big wigs at the course he, through them, finds a path to winning back everything he lost. They’ve watched him since his days on Bay Street, and have carefully groomed him for their inner circle. They know his family; they know his vulnerabilities. Before Kevin has a chance to pick up the bottle again, he finds himself in their child-preying clutch.

Kevin suspects that the cabal has kidnapped his family, but, equally, he feels he may be losing his mind. While drugged and verging on madness, Kevin faces a proposition: commit the murder of the most innocent, and reunite with his wife and kids. In confronting his fate, Kevin risks losing his only remaining possession—his own sanity—and his last hope for redemption.

GREEN COUNTRY is a tight literary thriller complete at 55,000 words. It aspires to the poignancy and precision of Scott McLanahan’s THE SARAH BOOK and Soren Sveistrup’s THE CHESTNUT MAN. This would be my debut novel.

I’m a Toronto-based freelance writer. My poetry and short fiction have appeared in Maudlin House, the White Wall Review, Soliloquies Anthology, Sortes Magazine, the Lit Quarterly, and Philosophical Idiot.

Per your agency’s guidelines, I’ve included [requested material] below.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

>>16151459

Hahah, not the first one here to crack that joke. Power to you if anyone can get a stolen manuscript of a shitty debut novel published.

>>16150975

Thanks, friend. Not sure if it interests anyone, but you can find it here:

https://larthurhunt.files.wordpress.com/2020/08/green-country-anon-watermarked-1.pdf

Hey /lit/, sorry to bother you guys with this again. I've recently finished my first novel and want to throw a hail mary out to publishers and agents. I've written a query pitch. It feels stale and drug-store-paperbacky, but based on feedback this is how I've been told to position my novel for the market. I wrote it as a short indie literary fiction piece, but now I've presented it more like a mystery thriller. I want to know if this summary and pitch is clear and whether it satisfies its job of building interest and the "stakes" of the novel:

>Dear [Ms./Mr.] First Last Name,

>Former corporate lawyer Kevin Little didn’t expect to become a groundskeeper at a golf course in his midlife. But neither did he foresee threatening his old boss with murder, shipping away to jail, becoming disbarred, and losing his wife and children.

>Kevin, in recovery from alcoholism, finds solace and community in the golf course. That is until he discovers unattended young children at every corner. They appear in basement corridors, closets, and behind locked doors. Kevin can’t figure out where they come from and who they are, but, more than that, they are a painful reminder of his own estranged family.

>When Kevin falls in with a circle of ex-lawyers and retired big wigs at the course, he finds a path to winning back everything he lost. They’ve watched him since his days on Bay Street, and have carefully groomed him for their inner circle. They know his family; they know his vulnerabilities. Before Kevin has a chance to pick up the bottle again, he finds himself in their child-preying clutch.

>Kevin suspects that the inner circle has kidnapped his family, but he has too loose a grip on reality to be sure. At the demand of the white-collar cabal, Kevin faces a proposition while drugged and verging on madness: commit the murder of the most innocent, and retake his wife and kids. In confronting his fate, Kevin risks losing his only remaining possession—his own sanity—and his last hope for redemption.

>GREEN COUNTRY is a tight literary thriller complete at 55,000 words. It aspires to the poignancy and precision of Scott McLanahan’s THE SARAH BOOK and Soren Sveistrup’s THE CHESTNUT MAN. This is my debut novel.

>My poetry and short fiction have appeared in Maudlin House, the White Wall Review, Soliloquies Anthology, Sortes Magazine, the Lit Quarterly, and Philosophical Idiot.

>Per your agency’s guidelines, I’ve included [requested material] below. Thank you for your consideration.

>>16080210

SYNOPSIS:

Semi-biographical about my father. Corporate lawyer loses job due to alcoholism. Turns violent. Loses his wife and children, his only love in the world. Ditches the booze and gets a job at a golf course cleaning the greens and doing grunt work. He falls in with a nefarious crowd of retired lawyers and big wigs at the course. There are children running around everywhere at the golf course. There's always little kids in the restaurants, hallways, etc. Protagonist gets spooked.

Eventually the protagonist finds himself caught up in a criminal kabal / secret society operating out of the golf course.

The powerful men in the kabal promise to get the protagonist's family back if he commits a certain evil deed.

Entire novel is interspersed with flashbacks to his former family life and life as a corporate lawyer, depicting how it fell apart. There are essentially two timelines.

The final scene is ambiguous as to which timeline it takes place. Whichever timeline you believe it to be will alter how the preceding climax transpired.

I'm not good at synopses.

Hey lit, I just finished the draft version of my first novel. It's short, only 55k words. I have no high hopes for it. No fame or fortune. But it's an honest work. I had fun crafting this, and it's made me a better, more disciplined person in creating it. I'm happy to have created something.

Would anyone be interested in reading it?

Here it is, eat your hearts out.

>https://larthurhunt.files.wordpress.com/2020/08/green-country-anon-watermarked.pdf

>>16073788

Haha, thanks. Yeah, I thought I'd bend the rules a little this time around.

>>16073725

Hey, no promises about it being any good. But thanks, hope you enjoy it and that some it might resonate with you.