oh shit,, the other one died already.
what are you writing about lit? please share with us. comments and critiques welcome, hate isnt.
I've got about 10,000 words on a disappointing holiday. In the previous criticism thread I responded with constructive feedback to every post that had contributed. I'll do the same again here. Haven't had any feedback yet.
For two days I've been writing and rewriting the first page and a half of a possible novel. It got positive reception here and that's what's motivating me to keep going, but I need to learn to leave what I've written alone before I start revising it
A period piece — or, more aptly, a cultural piece. Our culture is the outgrowth of an untenable society. I want to write an unrelenting, punishing — but not entirely sadistic — tale of what it means to be a teenager growing up in this society, this boundless, entirely suburban society. I want it to be sort of like War and Peace, pullulating with characters and subplots throughout, capped off with a little epilogue wherein I close the narrative curtain, come onstage alone, and say a few words about what's been on my mind lately.
My opinion is that it will be shit since you think that culture is the outgrowth of a society, and not the other way around. Can you even define the difference between the two?
Gonna be hard to be insightful when you can't even define your terms.
>GOD BLESS THE USA!!
two exclamation marks too obvious i think. You might not be of the "One exclamation mark per novel" camp but consider more subtlety in the revealing of idiocy.
>Wayne read the poster in the grocery store window as he was leaving with his pack of Sprecher.
Character's name being the first real word in the first real sentence? Like, OK, if his name is especially important. Is it a John Wayne kind of thing?
>The cans of cold beer begin to sweat almost immediately.
Not sure I'm a fan of changing the tense here. Removing the "the" would work just as well.
>Wayne was a little vague himself.
Can you justify the "himself" here?
>Carried a master’s in English
Are you going to keep up this pronoun removal? This *can* be how inconsistencies creep in.
>“Hunting? Ay, actually I’m interested
Don't buy this dialogue
>“Then what are you hunting, Wayne?”
Here we go. I like this. Where's this going? I'm hooked here.
> and some propane for his stove.
hank hill meme
>Wayne intellectualized his emotions to entertain himself
Language is taking a turn here. Feel like sentences like this could derail your consistency. Especially compared to
>Sunset came and went.
Sound like two different writers.
I'm usually an SF writer with literary ambitions (think Brave New World or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep; I'd love to write a novel like that some day)
so it's no surprise right now I'm refining an SF novel I wrote over the past decade, trying to make the opening less shit and get anyone at all to edit the second half for me (I am the worst at editing my own stuff).
I am also soon going to be writing two short stories, or maybe a short and a novel?
The first will be about a mayor, an out of work librarian, a hacker, and the proud men and women of a local reenactor's guild and a few nursing homes working to save their small suburban town on the Mississippi from irrelevance by connecting it to a physical darknet on the bottom of the river (working title "The Scales of Relevance").
The second, less ambitious idea is to write a story about a group of young people living in the future after powerful AI has won its independence from humanity and basically leaves us, only interfering in our affairs to make sure we don't enslave any new intelligent machines etc. In this future society, there is a group of people who live like primitive peoples, yet are not luddites... and they claim to be able to curry favor with the distant, godlike machines. A few young people attempt to join their ranks, to find out whether it's a brutal cult or a breeding ground for humans that think of themselves like the dogs of their AI masters (working title "Wolves and Dogs").
>>7634563 (You)/>>7634444 again
Thought I'd start by saying I really like this and it's better and infinitely more readable than most of the stuff I read on here.
>Wayne stopped in a mom and pop restaurant by the roadside
Maybe capitalise "Mom and Pop", otherwise halfway through it sounds like he stopped in a mom.
>He ate the food, adapted to the tastes of the store’s northern clientele over the long generations of its operation.
In one meal? This guy some kind of food savant? Plus, did I miss something or did he already live nearby?
>the one his laptop told him was the town the Department of Natural Resources
>the town the
Intentional? Also, this guy sounds like a pretty simple dude so far. I never pictured him taking a laptop. Is this intentional? It significantly changes my view of the character.
>Wayne put his foodstuffs and cooking gear in a canvas bag, tied it to a rope, and slung it under a high limb of the largest tree he could find nearby.
Contrasts with the laptop a bit. Deliberate?
>Wayne woke at midday—which felt heavenly compared to the before-dawn hours of his work.
Doesn't he need the light to hunt?
>. Figuring he had some time to bide, he made himself a meal of chocolate-chip pancakes on his propane stove
Chocolate chip? Yo who is this guy? Is this a statement on how in modern society, the idea of a "hunter" is actually a lil' manchild, shooting animals for fun? My opinion of this character is changing all over the place.
>(which Mari never would have accepted)
Who doesn't like pancakes?
>The man hesitated. Wayne could see he was powerfully built, probably ex-military. If they fought Wayne would lose.
Is it just me or is this one of the first insights we've had into his thinking? Is this especially important or is the narrator moving in and out of Wayne's head?
>He wore an expensive watch
Think really hard about whether Wayne would be able to tell this. My knowledge of the character so far would not indicate that he would.
>“What gun’d you bring out here for these varmints, whatever they are?”
Is this a bit too colloquial? I'm not American but the dialogue stood out a bit as different from the rest of Jim's.
>The country the road went through was deep woods, both coniferous and deciduous.
Something stands out about this sentence and I can't figure it out. It's something to do with the position of the narrator. We know the narrator is linked to Wayne, but it's not Wayne. Sometimes the narrator has insight into Wayne's emotions, but sometimes it doesn't seem to. The weird thing is that the narrator is considerably better spoken than Wayne. I can't figure it out.
>“We’re natural. But we eliminate everything like this” and Wayne swept his hand broadly to indicate the entire woodland, “from our lives. We pave roads and build, and allow machines to intervene between us and the natural—our cars, our clothes, our homes, our computers and cell phones.”
He says, out on a trip in order to kill animals.
>Wayne asked them if they would kindly explain what they meant by that.
I'm not a fan of shifting out of dialogue so abruptly, straight after the character was talking.
>The female official smiled wanly back, clearly inured to such initial incredulity.
I don't understaaaaand
> Some gentlemen from DARPA told us it was using a ‘neural net-based suite of somatosensory and cognitive processes’
My brain is hurting now. The tone of this has been set quite a few times, in different ways, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
>“Wait—robots that copulate?”
They're hunting robots now? Wew.
>“The robots were fighting with a bear.”
The ending on a dream I can get behind, but I think you might need to rein this in a little bit, tonally. You've packed a whole novel's worth of ideas into a very short piece of writing.
I like it though. There's really nice moments here and a lot of it feels natural. I have the people and the environment in my head. I can visualise it, and that's quite rare because I'm not that good at reading quickly.
Thanks for the read. My thoughts about your thoughts thus far:
>two exclamation marks too obvious i think.
Have you seen these kinds of signs IRL? It's more realistic. Maybe three exclamation marks, just because people do that more often?
>Character's name being the first real word in the first real sentence?
I don't understand why this is important, but I am willing to listen if you will explain.
>Not sure I'm a fan of changing the tense here. Removing the "the" would work just as well.
Thanks for the catch; should have been "began"
>Can you justify the "himself" here?
This is to clarify that we are comparing his vagueness to the ad's vagueness.
>Are you going to keep up this pronoun removal? This *can* be how inconsistencies creep in.
yes, and fortunately I don't think any did.
>Don't buy this dialogue
What about "OK, actually I'm interested..." ?
>Here we go. I like this. Where's this going? I'm hooked here.
cool. too bad it took so long!
>hank hill meme
you really do use propane for some camping stoves... but if it's really all that bad it could be replaced with butane.
>Language is taking a turn here. Feel like sentences like this could derail your consistency. Especially compared to
>Sunset came and went.
>Sound like two different writers.
I'm OK with this, unless it gets worse later on in your opinion.
Yesterday i was super depressed and i started day dreaming about living on a farm with lots of older brothers and sisters and next door was a dying amish community with cute amish girls who i could impress with my ability to flick light switches.
then i thought this would be a good idea for a drama set in the late 90's
wow, thanks everyone for the close reading.
I don't want to respond to all of the things people said; I need to think on some of it a little more and reread this myself, but I'll respond to a few so that I can get better answers:
>Intentional? Also, this guy sounds like a pretty simple dude so far. I never pictured him taking a laptop. Is this intentional? It significantly changes my view of the character.
The very beginning of the story sets Wayne up as a bit of a cipher. It's intentional.
>Contrasts with the laptop a bit. Deliberate?
>Doesn't he need the light to hunt?
hunting is often best at dawn and dusk - because of animal activity more than anything else.
>Think really hard about whether Wayne would be able to tell this. My knowledge of the character so far would not indicate that he would.
good catch, I'll amend that sentence.
>He says, out on a trip in order to kill animals.
>I don't understaaaaand
Is this a complaint about the language used or something else?
>My brain is hurting now. The tone of this has been set quite a few times, in different ways, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
That's good. That's intentional.
>They're hunting robots now? Wew.
heavily alluded to prior to this.
>You've packed a whole novel's worth of ideas into a very short piece of writing.
That is a weakness of mine for sure. I LIKE doing it, is the thing, which isn't necessarily great for my stories; they tend to end up unfocused.
>>I don't understaaaaand
>Is this a complaint about the language used or something else?
I can explain
>The female official smiled wanly back, clearly inured to such initial incredulity.
You've got some unusual words here that could be replaced by simpler ones. Is this sentence really so important that you needed to use those specific words? How much weaker would it be if you took out everything after and including 'wanly', and then used something else to do better foreshadowing? The three "in" sounds as well, it feels like you're trying to be clever rather than there being any meaning behind the assonance.
Again, this is just my opinion, but you ask for critcism on an anonymous board because you know people won't hold back. Like I said, I liked it in general.
My main criticisms are that it A) introduces so many concepts in such a short space of time, and B) isn't finished.
no, by all means, thank you very much for the opinions, however filtered or unfiltered.
The instinct behind adding the "explanation" behind the "wanly back" was an urge to make it clear exactly what she was mildly exasperated by. I will agree, though, that to an experienced reader there's little purpose to the continuation of the sentence; I'll think about removing it wholly. I guess it will depend on who I submit this to, if I ever do submit it again (it was rejected two or three times in different venues).
If I could get you to talk to me a little more about this:
Could you list the concepts this story introduces to you?
Could you explain what feels unfinished about it?
I'm trying to start a short story (or maybe I'll make it a poem, I really don't fucking know) called "The Flower and the Farmer".
It's about a farmer that becomes obsessed with trying to cultivate his land for the sake of one flower, in spite of it being a tropical flower and therefore not suitable for Britain.
>Could you list the concepts this story introduces to you?
Bears, robots, hunting, slang. I didn't get a great feel for the place, actually. For some reason I visualised snow, even though people seemed to be reacting to the heat? I was getting a Coen Brothers/Cormac McCarthy vibe from it for a while. There was pretty serious "technology vs.nature" stuff in there. Too strong, if anything, when your character lays his worldview out in a single paragraph.
>Could you explain what feels unfinished about it?
Almost purely structural. It's not literary enough to pull of a non-linear plot and there wasn't enough of a hook to the payoff. I guess it had a kind of short story payoff, but it had so many themes and tones that almost everything that was introduced was left at a loose end.
Thank you again, though I must say bears, robots, and slang don't at all count as "themes"...
But that's really aside from the point you're making. I'm confused that you say you didn't get a great feel for the place, though earlier in this thread you said you visualized it very well.
Anyway, it's cool that you saw a Coen/McCarthy vibe in the story; I idolize both of those storytellers.
If you think the story is about technology vs. nature purely, think again... the story pretty obviously inverts that trope: technology IS nature.
I have a feeling the fact you missed that is what felt unfinished about the story, so I think the best way for me to try to improve the story would be to make that conclusion more obvious. Any ideas?
I have never written a story (excluding when I was very young) before and I am terribly indecisive when trying to write something serious. Hell, a single sentence will often take me five minutes to compose when I am writing an essay or whatever.
Anyhow, I'm not sure about the themes. Obsession? The powerless of man in the face of nature? The story is really only in the early planning stages unfortunately. I don't even know how to open it.
See that's the thing, you have to care about the message and really know what it means before you start writing it, otherwise it'll be weak.
I assumed the message was something like, for example, writing literary fiction nowadays, when it's a dying art and the culture is totally hostile to it. People still do it because there's something in human nature that drives a desire to create beautiful things, even if the environment in which we create it is totally hostile. The idea of something beautiful surviving in a hostile environment.
It's a really great idea.
Well, I certainly do care about the message. As cliché as it may be, the story is inspired by recent events of my life. I was actually just trying to write a factual account of the events but whilst thinking of a title, I realized that I should instead write a story.
However, I still feel rather hesitant about it; I am no "/lit/ patrician"... merely a man with a desire to write.
Just abandoned my novel after writing 30,000 words because someone on /lit/ read an excerpt and said it was boring
Also I read it on ayahuasca and thought it was shit so that was probably the main reason
I think I'm just going to write a huge rant about the hypocrisies I see daily in society or write multiple short stories about it. I don't have the patience to write a novel right now.
Novella about a young woman who is afraid to grow up and so becomes obsessed with her older friend's young daughter. Close to halfway through - and with the rest planned out - but a little worried that people will just compare it to Lolita.
Will probably finish it and hate it, but NEET for another month so it'll feel good to have at least written something of 80-ish plus pages, even if I never show it to anyone.
don't write anything then if you can't withstand the opinion of idiot memesters.
It's hard to go from 4chan, which is pure distration, to reading fiction, which is art. You'll be hard-pressed to find someone on here who is even in the mood to read something serious. Post it.
"We’re all tired so it’s decided that we go back to Conner’s house for the rest of the night. Maybe we won’t sleep but we’ll be away from the lights and noise and the people who annoy us more than we annoy each other. I’m starting to think I don’t understand girls like I thought. The ones at Emerson anyway. I understand my mom and my aunts but not these kids. They talk about children and marrying all the time when I don’t think I know what those two things really mean. They don’t seem to care to know and I think they’re fine with it. I’m obsessed with the unknown."
Not a big fan of this bit. This stuff has been covered so many times by so many different authors that having your character explain their take on relationships in one paragraph without really saying anything new or providing some kind of allegory that the reader can apply to their own life is a bit hokey to say the least. You could dissolve this paragraph into little bits in other paragraphs that let on that your character feels this way without him just walking up to the reader and saying it. Doing stuff that way (slower) also makes your character more interesting. Leaving stuff out lets your reader apply things that the character is hinting at to their own life.
I'm not saying your character has to know that he's hinting at stuff, it's more like how, if you met someone who was this age, you'd be able to read them really easily. When I meet teenagers now, their motivations and values become clear so quickly, without them actually coming up to me and saying anything. There's a lot to be written in the gaps between your middle-school character's self-awareness and the self-awareness you have now. Nabokov was a master at this. When Kinbote gets angry about how his work has been received, he reads snippets that his critics wrote, and he gives himself away. Your character can give these feelings away. Your character doesn't sound like the kind of person to walk up to a stanger (the reader) and just profess their inner feelings about love and relationships. They sound like they'd unwittingly give this stuff away by just behaving normally.
"I’ve always wanted to be an engineer but it took me up until a few weeks ago to discover that an engineer isn’t the person who drives trains. Trains aren’t even driven like cars; they move around on a track without anyone telling it which way it’s supposed to go. It moves through mountains and over rivers without someone steering it; it will always move in that direction for the rest of its life. The rest of its days as a train. Maybe that’s forever."
This. This is what I'm talking about. This is really good writing. The semicolon is kind of useless (I'd have just used a full stop), but that's my only real complaint. This is one of the first things in these threads that has actually stirred any kind of emotion in me.
Whoops sorry I deleted it
"We’re all tired so it’s decided that we go back to Conner’s house for the rest of the night. Maybe we won’t sleep but we’ll be away from the lights and noise and the people who annoy us more than we annoy each other. I’m starting to think I don’t understand girls like I thought. The ones at Emerson anyway. I understand my mom and my aunts but not these kids. They talk about children and marrying all the time when I don’t think I know what those two things really mean. They don’t seem to care to know and I think they’re fine with it. I’m obsessed with the unknown. I’ve always wanted to be an engineer but it took me up until a few weeks ago to discover that an engineer isn’t the person who drives trains. Trains aren’t even driven like cars; they move around on a track without anyone telling it which way it’s supposed to go. It moves through mountains and over rivers without someone steering it; it will always move in that direction for the rest of its life. The rest of its days as a train. Maybe that’s forever.
I’m tired but they want more time with Mr. Lizard. They sit and watch naked bodies while two Mr. Lizards flail around without consent. I’m lying in the corner, not feeling what they are. Just waiting to dream."
For other people, Mr. Lizard is a sex toy comprised of a rubber lizard cut in half (pic related). It's used essentially like a flesh light.
Deleted your comment? OK. A bit more:
My only other complaint about the engineering bit was that I feel like your narrator is much smarter than a middle-schooler, and that you might need to give some thought to who your narrator actually is. Is it you, now? Surely you'd be highlighting how you've changed, what you're embarrassed about? There's something in what you wrote.
I can't quote you now. I'll say that the bit about the Mr. Lizards was wonderfully weird and sounds really true. Most people have weird sexual stuff they remember from when they were kids. You're not out of the norm. It's easy to cringe at, and easy to use that age to make a point about human nature, but you have to treat that kind of stuff with care.
You seem to be treating it with enough care. I like how your character kind of just sees it as normal. It's either from real experience, or it's some grade-A, publishable literary invention.
Really fuckin' good pal, keep it up.
Currently working on the updated version of the first story I ever created. Like, these characters were designed twelve years ago. The story has obviously changed, only character names and some arcs are the same.
It's a story about life and death. Nothing that hasn't been said before I'm sure, it's angsty, it's melodramatic, but it's honest to where I am right now. It's a catharsis.
I think once I clean it up, cut the bullshit and add some real meat to it it'll be something I can be proud of. It'll still be melodramatic garbage, but I'll be happy with it.
I've also, after years of worrying about it, finally fixed my talking head syndrome. My prose still sucks, but I'm trying.
Wow that's the best compliment I've ever received on here. Yeah I think that first paragraph is just one of those kill your darlings things. I keep holding onto it for whatever reason but I really should get rid of it cause it adds nothing.
>They sound like they'd unwittingly give this stuff away by just behaving normally.
You are dead on here. I didn't have the words for it but you're completely right. I need to keep this in mind as I go through this story.
Yes exactly. I want to show the reader just how bizarre my sexual experiences were without coming out and saying "we were so weird back then lol". I want it to be completely normal and for the reader to decide whether or not this behavior is strange.
Here's a pic of a similar toy lizard again.
This is brilliant. Keep it up man.
Here's an excerpt from my latest endeavor.
I like that excerpt but the language you use feels like a rumbling that, together with other paragraphs that you have not included, could build into something huge and real.
It's hard to tell much from that excerpt alone, other than the fact that any number of published writers could have written it and no-one would bat an eye at the quality.
please critque my magnum opus
>Yesterday I was installing ductwork in some kind of facility for retards. I signed onto Steam last night, which was unusual for me since I usually use Skype to talk to the one person who still talks to me, and talked to my weird neo-Nazi friend about the retards. He asked me if I had fondled any of the retards, and I said I hadn't. I hadn't even considered it.
A novel set in modern China about a woman with the power to hypnotize people with her sexy ASMR-inducing voice, and her quest to use this for personal enrichment versus the state's ideas about using her for propaganda purposes.
I am writing a 100 years sci-fi, it starts in 2016 and goes all the way to 2116, right now I am doing Chapter 9, then Chapter 10 and Chapter 11, that will be the shortest chapter of the book, right now I have 510 pages and 360k words.
My biggest fear is the story being boring, I am trying to throw in some real word and real science things about our own solar system while building the universe of the book and the relationship between the characters, I really wanna make as simple as possible and easy to be understood so then it can appeal to more people.
I would post the first page but I am writing it in my native language, so...
Space opera. Moving to market on my own. Fuck agents. If Andy Weir can get adults to read hard scifi then I can sell space opera to teens
I am writing three main things right now:
A YA fantasy/soft-scifi novel set in a cut-off dystopian society that has no contact with the outside world. MC's brother was taken from the government because he has special abilities, and the story starts off with MC trying to find him, and escape to the outside world. These special abilities each pertain to the four elements (yes i know, rip off of Avatar, so everyone keeps saying). Deals with themes of isolation, escapism, etc. I started it three years ago, and had 100k before i decided to split it into two novels. The first one is now on 70k, and i estimate I have about 10k left to write. I want to be short and quick paced.
The other two things I'm writing about are more /lit/, ones a novella depicting the life of a 20-something taxi driver and deals with themes of isolation, stagnation, fate, beauty and death, inspired by works like oyasami punpun and yukio mishima. It's at 26k, and is more or less finished, just needs editing. The other piece follows a boy through three years of his life, starting in high school and ending in his first year of university. It deals with themes of isolation, wanderlust, stagnation in life, etc. I have about 18k on it, and am planning to write it over the next two years. And each year i live will correlate with each year in the story.
I have a bunch of other little things, but they aren't worth mentioning, cause they're mainly in the planning phase.
Should take around 20 minutes to read through. 3k words last I checked. I struggle cutting my chapters when they get too long but the next one is directly consecutive... Do you think this is too long? Should I change from first-person (feels awkward to write and show people) to omniscient? Any thoughts/critique appreciated.
my book is gonna be about a degenerate fuck who smokes crack and robs people's houses to get money to buy it. But it goes deeper into why he does the fucked up shit that he does.
His family was a bunch of fucks, his dad was an abusive alcoholic, his mom died of an overdose, and his older brother (who was also like his role model and best friend) killed himself with a shotgun to the head. He proceeds to slowly lose his shit more and more and then finally goes full serial killer mode. Then he talks himself into believing that all of reality is fake and it's all made up and in his head and he kills himself.
I like the characterisation, and your writing shows spurts of depth, although, largely, i wasn't sure why i should care about the main character, he seemed to be a bit whiney. Though i did find the DS thing sort of funny.
Your actual prose is acceptable, though i do think you've got a bit of a while before you're churning out the goods. Tbh, your writing seems to be at where i was a couple years ago.
The biggest gripe i have with it, is that you come across as pretty vague with a lot of your details, like you know in your head what you want to say, but you can't quite think up the words to say it, and therefore your descriptions come across as a little bland.
Either way, though I think this story might be a dud, I think you should keep at writing it, so you can better.
Also, I think the first person worked well, not exactly sure what a change in perspective would add.
I have two things on the go.
The first, which I'm actively writing, is a cyberpunk story set in near-future Hong Kong, based around a young private investigator who, when investigating the murder of a megacorporation's contracted researcher, comes across the first ever strong AI. After this, the city explodes into chaos, with a complex underground civil war breaking out, with many factions including revolutionary groups, terrorists, religious groups, governments, Triads, and megacorporations fighting for control of the AI and therefore the city. I want to cover lots of broad philosopical themes like consciousness, existentialism, and so on. I also want to look at relevant political themes like the clashing of ideologies, the meeting of economics and politics, and so on. In its current state it's ambitious at best and convoluted at worst. I posted this in another thread a week ago and some anons gave me some good advice on how to tackle it.
My second one is in more of a planning stage. It's set in 2178 after a century of relative peace and rapid expansion into the solar system. A cluster of space colonies at Earth-Sun Lagrange 5 seek independance from Earth, and have as such established themselves as an independent state. Long story short war begins between the two. There are a number of POV characters on both sides of the conflict. There's lots of grand strategy, tactics and mindgames, politiacal intrigue, and other interweaving subplots going on throughout. It's definitely much simpler plot-wise than the one I'm writing right now, though I'm liking it more so far just because it's less grimdark than the first one.
I dislike it strongly.
Wow, teenagers drinking and getting stoned, picture me fucking surprised.
The setting is not clever, the dialogue is not clever, the descriptions are vague for the purpose of sounding "deep"; the execution of the cliché is unoriginal and uninspired. Meh.
"Want in? Ask the owner for access, or switch to an account with permission."
I'm afraid I never use googledocs either, so I'm also a tard. But make it so that anyone can view it, but not edit it.
desu, it's not the worse thing I've read that deals with this kind of thing. Maybe add some more humour, these things are always better when it's funny, cause it makes the writer seem like they arent taking themselves too seriously
Look guy, I didn't mean to shout. It's just that there are issues here that are so blatantly obvious, like there are things that don't make sense about the plot within the first few blocks of text, like right off the bat.
>He holds the gun loosely
Why?? This is a tense situation and if he's visibly holding it loosely he's not being threatening
>twisted into an unsettling sadistic grin
>Her eyes are red and puffy, like she’s about to cry
Eyes look like that after they cry, not before
>Isaac and I are standing a bit behind Murdoc
Then how could the narrator see his grin??
Like just think these things through just a little bit and it will take you a long way
This guy again >>7634973
Goddamn, I am struggling already. I have a rough outline of the plot, I doubt there will be much dialogue, and I'll probably try using "agricultural language" (although I don't want to overdo it). Unfortunately, i still have no idea how to start.
Reacently, i got hooked by the (for me) new Wave of Web Novels, and the new genres that came with tham. But i got slowly frustrated by the way, how a lot of storrylines are just abou some OP Hero, that masters everything in the first 10 Chapters (Or got some chat ability from the beginning), and then roams around the World.
I find that kind of storry development qite boring and decidet to wryte my own:
>In "Paradigm", a group of about 20 people are testing a new technology for virtual reality, that promises to allow long-time VR-dives by putting the user in a dream-like state. The beta-test includes a two months long dive into a simulation, that the testers will spend in an upcoming game called "Vortex" (not related to any real games with that name) witch is also currently in beta-testing.
>In "Vortex", Players become a part of the World "Rashara". A tortured World, that fall Victim to a catastrophe hundreds of years ago. It was ripped apart and sucked into the Limbus. The still functioning teleport-trevel system, called "Vortex", is the only way to travel between the shards of the destroyed World. How will the motley group of testers encounter the adventures and dangers, that are waiting for them ahead?
>You can enjoy the adventures that they will encounter through the eyes of Nicolas Nakamura, an American with Asian ancestors, who has an unusual, analytical way to see his surrounding and especially other people.
The Original Storry is written in german. Please keep in mind, that i am translating it myself and i am not implying that i am good on that. So you may (will) encounter weird phrases and bad grammar. I hope, that i will be able to offer you a decent translation at some point in the future.
I am publishing it every Friday, one chapter a week (English and German).
>Link to German version (17 Chapters):
>Link to English translation (5 Chapters):
I had been drinking. Drinking with a frankly zealous contempt for my future self – tomorrow’s me can go fuck himself, for all I care. Katie had told me to slow down, but only with a glare. The beer was done, just flat dribble left in a warm tin. I threw it at the carpet and heaved, heaved, heaved myself up right with a sway.
‘Jus whiskey,’ I think I said. ‘Getting more. Anyone want?’
‘Juice whiskey?’ Laughter from at least five people.
‘Who fucking—’ Spinning, I still couldn’t work out who said that. Someone there maybe, or in the kitchen. Maybe Dan said it. Why would Dan say that? ‘I don’t know, it doesn’t matter.’
It stung and made me shudder, but still I went straight back to the bottle and poured one, two, three big bubbled glugs down my throat. I was aware it was dripping down my chin and neck and even onto my collar. Another long pull and the contents of the fridge to my left was clinking and thudding as it came back from my shoulder barge.
‘You ones can fuck—’
‘Is that the Scotch I brought?’ Same voice. It was Ed. Stupid fucking Ed.
‘Yeah,’ I yelled. ‘Is.’
‘It’s thirty five years old. Have you any idea how much it cost?’
‘No. I need toilet.’ I handed the bottle to some blonde smoking in the kitchen. Bewildered, she took it and leaned away – maybe in disgust. Who knows. ‘Who cares,’ I mumbled, waving the concern away.
The toilet door was locked. Hanging my head, I hit it with three hard fists and chanted something. Although the music was thumping and the bass was tickling sweat on my lips, I could still tell that from inside the bathroom there was coming only silence. A few more knocks.
My tongue sticking from my mouth, I wobbled to my knees to look through the key hole. Couldn’t see anything. ‘Open the door,’ I whispered. Hot breath on my face.
Now, back on my feet, I gave it a hard barge and, on the third go, I heard the lock crack. Giggling, I acted as though this was an accident. I was drunk enough to do it on purpose, but sober enough to know I had to pretend I didn’t. One more bash and the door opened, slamming to a stop on a buckled boot – it was limp, full of flesh. Attached, I then saw, to a woman. Katie.
‘You all right?’ I said. 'You ill?'
She was slumped, a rag doll, across the floor, upper torso resting on the toilet. I felt a surge of clean adrenaline push the alcohol down my veins – cold and sober now. Red ribbons disappeared into the filthy water, little trickles all over her fingers. Sticky by now. Both her wrists, hanging there, pouring down the fucking drain. Katie was ill.
I read what might be its first two pages. It ebbs and stretches nicely. One thing:
>Cane was the first us to get married
The first *of* us, minor mistake.
Sure will continue reading after I'm finished with classes for the day.
I'm pleased you liked it - I wrote it quickly just for this thread.
I am a published author but, as I am hopelessly plagued by self doubt, it still weirdly means quite a lot to have praise from strangers. So thank you.
When you say published author what do you mean? I ask because I have a fantasy of being published but I really don't have an image of what that entails other than releasing novels at my own pace, and I know that must be too good to be true
I am published by a large, reputable London publishing house. You will have heard of them I am sure. I am currently writing my second novel, first one came out last year.
And yeah, you're not far off - unless of course you are commissioned to write something. For example, if you sign a two book deal (or more of course). Then you have a deadline. Or if someone buys something on spec sort of thing - but I think that typically happens to people a little more successful than me.
Of course it varies, but it's pretty much on your terms. I have an agent and, if outside contracts, she wouldn't demand anything or rush me.
Any lack of freedom when it comes to the pace of writing is by no means a downside. On the contrary, having something commissioned is an ideal situation to be in, surely?
Writing something you KNOW is going to be published will feel better than writing something you fear might never be.
Completely unintentional, lol!
Useful, thank you. Most of the details on the characters are earlier on than the excerpt - but I think that's still indicative of something wrong/a mistake. MC is whiny, but I think I'll have to give him something to make him more likable besides. I'll come back to it for a rewrite later. Thanks!
Well, it's nonfiction, but that doesnt mean it's okay to suck. Maybe I should go on in and make it more unique or interesting. The way it is now, I take away "why should I care" which is going to be a big hurdle without giving away the reason why it's getting written down. Either way, if it isn't worth the time on its own, it's worse than valueless.
It's like structured series of poems that describe the last days of an empire in decadence and corruption, then it's takeover by a nihilistic-reactionary force which subsequently destroy it and leave in an exodus. it then ends with a poem of the exodus' descendant looking at the empire's ruins and I'm thinking it should probably loop in on itself.
it's in eight/nine parts, the first seven roughly corresponding each to a chakra, the element associated that chakra, it's emotions, etc. for instance the fourth poem will deal with themes of love and grief as well as images of air.
yeah it's also an allegory for the current western world and what I believe it's future to be because as you can see I'm an esoteric, right-wing, reactionary nut.
I'm not sure what exactly I'd call my poetry style but I'd say it's imagist/slightly surrealistic. I'm still in the early stages of it.
In the 11th grade (5 years ago), I wrote a ~65,000 words manuscript of historical fiction about a British soldier that comes down with schizophrenia in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres during World War I. It seeks out to detail the horrors of early modern warfare whilst keeping an entertaining narrative. Besides my main character and there is another figure that isn't real but is a character itself. He comes around every now and then and torments my main character by making him do terrible things and just being absurd.
I think the premise is good. I haven't looked at it since I completed because I go by the thoughts of Steven King when he says all first drafts are shit. This is my first time talking about it. I think if I go back and do major editing with my current background and education I could have a pretty damn good book on my hands.
Alright, here's a random entry:
A riddle has eluded me for a while now, to which I have now found a tentative answer. Dragons in my dreams have immortality, but die permanently. Yet in waking life, it is clear that reincarnation must be at work. I have found an abuse of language perhaps sufficient to explain. Dragons live in samsara. Hence they don’t achieve the immortality of nirvana and rather live forever in mortal things. This dovetails nicely with christian imagery of the dragon as satanic; they represent a luciferian love of life. Hence also the love for gold and silver, which are material things that don’t tarnish (but also wisdom and knowledge). If this interpretation holds, then the dragon priests of my dreams were essentially a satanic cult. There is something frightening yet exhilarating about all this. If Kiyo is a repressed part of me, then of course she would be my love of life; ferocious, unyielding, desperate. This explains perhaps why the dragon is so often the symbol of the pathetic and wretched. The dream of life exceeds the promise of eternity. As Camus’ stranger wished only to remember this life in the next.
I'm writing a story from the perspective of a women with capgras syndrome.
There is no plot. Most of what I have is written as a stream of consciousness.
I will never reveal her condition, so someone could read the book and think it is a crazy fantasy story.
It takes advantage of people's suspension of disbelief since they could believe the story in a
fictionbook, but not if someone told them it as their life story.
This is going to be a point that will be brought up in the book so I get that whole "postmodern" medium criticism thing going on. Also just writing for this perspective is fun.
There also might be some "reality is subjective" type themes going on, but since that seems to be played out so much I'm not going to focus on it.
When I first read about capgras syndrome it was women who had it.
My character is the same age as this real life case was when she first started having problems.
what do you guys think?
Oh yay everyone hates plot so much we should just get rid of it because that's what people hate when they read.
"I would really love this more if only there was just less plot. Less things to draw my attention from the beautiful description and language play."
From a short story I'm working on...
My father, a somewhat reputable grower of fruits and vegetables, was a man of both wit and obstinance whose intellect was wasted upon the soil; he was fond of books, alcohol and the pursuit of les femmes lascives, an activity in which he was most commonly engaged among his fellow revelers at The Bloody Bacchante, a local inn. Despite his stubbornness, Jacques exhibited a boyish exuberance relished by all those who knew him—though his richness in spirit was countered by his lack of good fortune in life, as he would so often tell me. "When luck was being handed out on the road, I was in the field working."
Okay I get it it's cringe, and I probably shouldn't open with it. I don't want to make people cringe so much they don't read past the first line, but the guy who is saying it is a stupid kid trying to act like a tough/cool gangster to impress his friends. Doesn't that sound like something a guy trying to hard to be thug life would say? Am I just retarded?
that sounds pretty good actually. I'd avoid making it a simplistic anti-war narrative and try to make it a little more existential/Nihilistic.
I'd recommend reading Buddha's Little Finger (alternatively titled as "The Clay Machine Gun" or "Chapayev and Void.") by Victor Pelevin.
give a wee critique?
I get that you are being critical, but why can't your sarcastic point be a real one.
I guess the obvious response is "you're not good enough of a writer to make that work," and yeah you're probably right, but it's something I can work on.
My whole thing is based on someone's different perspective, if I had a plot its only purpose would be to serve. So why should I half-ass it?
If it is going to work it has to stand up on its own with out a plot. I don't want to give myself a crutch.
I'm just doing it for fun anyway. If it turns out super boring and no amount of editing can save it, then I won't do anything with it.
I'm sorry. I just think that good writing comes from good stories rather than good language.
I think that language should serve the plot. Anybody can write one thousand words of beautiful prose. But can you tell a story.
Stop playing with interesting theories and try to come up with an interesting story.
Rambling now. Sorry.
Try starting with an episode or a moment or whatever. The classic place that a lot of people coming from. Picture something. Now take that picture and try to think about the problems that the subjects in that episode could be having. And just go from there.
For eighty years we solve problems. I think our stories should be about how we solve them.
This nigger is smart.
So much weight is given to style - usually by amateurs.
You could spend a lifetime editing a single chapter and make it beautiful. Meaningless.
It's like mixing up the perfect shade of red paint. As if that matters more than the fucking picture.
Like the concept, even though it isn't wholly original at all from what i can tell with the synopsis
Read a couple chapters, not really sure what to say about it, seems like typical genre fiction schlock, idk if it would be better in German.
Are you planning to translate the whole thing into English? Honestly you should probably just give up on the translation, and focus solely on the German, as it's probably a waste of your time. Unless there are people giving you really good feedback
You definitely shouldn't open with it if that's what you're going for. Instead open with something like the main character thinking "This edge-lord is going to get me killed one day." or something. Something that immediately shows to the reader that he's a faggot.
But yeah, i don't think you're retarded
From my novel about a depressed guy living on a farm. Obviously in the initial stages of development.
At night he chews at the same barley and thinks about one of his father’s stories. And many a week ago the farmer took his wife to a doctor where she died. Direct. No happy endings in his stories. He watches the buttes standing against the brisk air and the looming blue like the survivors in Hawaii. Another one of his father’s stories. They had strapped themselves against the palm trees during a hurricane. The barley is wilted and damp and he spits it into the fire and watches as its spirit in the embers rises up only to be pushed away by the wind.
This sounds very interesting. Would love to see an excerpt if you decide to do something with it. I can't say much though for language can make a big difference in a story and I haven't seen an excerpt.
Without anymore context, i can't tell if you're building actually good philosophical ideas, or if it's just a bunch of tripe.
It sounds like you're analysing your own work. Which i guess is the point, but you're way to blunt about it i guess.
Again, I can't tell without a broader context. Your writing isn't the strongest, so you'd have to rely on your ability to communicate your ideas, and the worth of those ideas themselves.
>abuse of language
what did language do to you?
>This explains perhaps why the dragon is so often the symbol of the pathetic and wretched.
> Without anymore context, i can't tell if you're building actually good philosophical ideas, or if it's just a bunch of tripe.
Me neither desu
>what did language do to you?
It told me no.
> Is it?
kinda yeah. Certainly if you count otherkin and furries.
Would smut be welcome here? I have a fondness of writing erotic short stories, but that's about all I do. I tried writing a novel once, but I feel like I can't get the pacing correct for stories longer than a couple of pages.
I was thinking about posting the stories I wrote about Space Station 13 last year. However, I then realized that I used a lot of ingame lingo that probably wouldn't make any sense to people not familiar with the game. I wrote two stories recently based on Nuclear Throne and Darkest Dungeon that might be a little easier to digest.
Finished a short story this week about magicians dueling. It's anime-tier cringey but I would appreciate some feedback.
I'm sort of germinating an idea about people playing an augmented reality game but I'm not sure if I'm going to get to start soon.
I'm kind of confused by the first one, I think I might have misread something. Who was the girl? Was she the chief's sister?
Oh boy here we go
>The fumes of cheap cigars and gin hung across Bowery Theatre like streamers made of vice and entertainment
now that's a bad simile. You don't get to say that something is like what they are the embodiment of. It's like saying that the lights of the bonfire were like flames. Do you see what's wrong in that?
>what are you writing about lit?
gotta be honest, I just write a bit in the morning about stuff that randomly pops up in my mind in the hope that this is a sufficent enough exercise to get better at writing.
This morning it was about a whale looking at the sky.
Since everyone's got a boner for you. To me you sound like a high-school girl with a essay on Monday morning. Anyway...
>vacuum the joy right out of you.
Try harder, lad.
>We ran the security gauntlet.
Try hardest, lad.
>series of well-rehearsed and since half-forgotten gestures from the flight staff
No. If anything, the flight attendants are extremely well drilled and adept at hiding their boredom with flair. What you're describing it obvious and bland. Lack of observation.
>so I tore the brochure up
Why? Sounds a sudden jump out of character
>‘Put your seatbelt on. If we hit the plane in front of us you’ll go right through the window.’ I said.
> Something made the beer foam the consistency of dish soap. Must have been the air pressure.
Lad, I've had beer in-flight and it's fine. You're either lying or just trying too hard again.
>They caused the maximum of ruckus it’s possible to cause on a short-haul flight for this girl, which, admittedly, was not very much ruckus.
Redundant and verbose.
>The plane bumped onto tarmac and the flight-or-flight response from the landing took me out of a doze. I was tired and sick. We stepped off the plane and the heat draped itself over me. It was dark. We queued through the run-down airport and went out into the night to flag down taxis. I sucked down three Camels, lighting each of the last two from the butt of the previous one.
Stopped reading right here. I hope you keep writing though.
Not him, but:
>No. If anything, the flight attendants are extremely well drilled and adept at hiding their boredom with flair. What you're describing it obvious and bland. Lack of observation.
this is probably true
>Why? Sounds a sudden jump out of character
People are sudden sometimes
>Lad, I've had beer in-flight and it's fine. You're either lying or just trying too hard again.
Sometimes beer's shit, he's just making a speculation
I stirred awake from my troubled sleep, wincing at the orange glow of the lamp by my bed, and of the lamp post situated outside my bedroom window. It was a night like any other, the gloom of the quiet village not disturbed by anything. No drunken yelling, nor the barking or howling of a dog, nothing. I felt alone. The light pierced my eyes, translating into a searing pain in my head – I dare not however turn it off. I didn’t enjoy being in the dark. I slowly sat upright, the cheap scratchy cotton of my bedsheets clinging to my clammy flesh. It had been like this every night for some time now. I would start awake, head pounding, eyes aching – and I would not sleep again until I had a drink. Resignation. I solemnly lifted the bottle of whisky to my lips, and solemnly did I partake of it. I lay back down on the cotton bench in my plaster prison, and hoped I would not wake again that night.
This is my first time posting on this board. I just want some feedback on my writing skills. Thanks.
I have to go
I have my reasons too
I don't have the energy to say
But I think about you everyday
That's why I have to go
Or I'm going to get hurt
There is a empty place in my heart
If it's not filled
It wil fall and break apart
I only dream that you will be missing me
When I'm gone
It's the only way I can go on
I don't want you to think
That I don't love you no more
I still do
Everyday is grows
A point that I can't be near you anymore
But I feel like your toying with me
Making me feel special
But I know that all of that is fake
I really felt we had something going on
But my instincts are telling me
To run away from the fake love
Everyday it gets worse
I need to be gone
But I still care about you
And it frightens me
That you keep misbehaving
I feel like your going to disappear
Instead of me
I'm writing a play, it's a black comedy set on a harbored ship about two Scottish fishermen who unknowingly get involved in their captain's whiskey dealings with the Mafia in prohibition-era New York.
He's written more and probably better than most here(certainly more than i have in months). I give that all due respect. But i can't give him a vague 'you're going great guns, mate'. I don't like that attitude towards writing. I respect my craft and genuine effort. And i did say keep writing, didn't I? Stop labeling, please.
You probably have a point about the beer. But i still think it's a bit of a stretch to blame the air pressure physics for some bad beer. He's not joking. Is he?
Yeah, it's nothing groundbreaking I know. Do you have anything to say about the overall prose? I know it's unoriginal as anything, but that's because my imagination has been lacking lately so I've just been writing about myself. Maybe most amateurs are just depressed, alcoholic males. I'm knew to writing so I would really benefit from some more technically orientated criticism.
Brudi, du hast schon Rechtschreibfehler auf der ersten Seite und deine Schreibe ist, nunja, man sagt auf den Kanälen: autistisch.
>Du hast einen Editor.
Bist du schon 18?
I'm really bad at giving criticism unless something is overtly bad haha, but yours doesn't seem to be. Your prose seems fine. You just need to find a more original character or plot. Maybe try making MC more fucked. Take away his drinking, make it purely a mental problem. Have him struggle with something, and try not write something as cliche as he woke up and tried to get back to sleep. Then I might be able to give some proper feedback
Oh, thank you anyways. What I posted wasn't an excerpt of some wider story or anything --- it was purely a technical excercise, so I must be honest and say I'm not overly concerned with originality. Also
it was actually a diary entry, I'm not sure you realised that
"Men! Brothers! Freedom fighers! The sun is shining! God himself smiles on us today! He smiles because we have found our new home! In the neglected ruins of this city, we shall forge a town-- No, a civillization, to rival that of those who built this very square! Five hundred years ago, this was unclaimed mud. Then, a crafty man staked out the first wooden cabin out in the wilderness. Fifty years ago, this was a shining metropolis. Then.. Well, then it became one of a thousand other ruins... Untill we found it. God has seen to it that we claim this new home, clearly he has forgiven us! Perhaps all of humanity? It's up to us to reconstruct the metaphorical cabin, to create a new home from the ashes of the old! This is why I wish to call this new start -Not only for us, but for all of civillization- Redemption. Who is with me? Towards a new life, a better life, with warm beds and happy women!"
Yeah. I make a conscious effort not to talk about drinking, drugs or sex in any of my writing, just cause i don't find it interesting. If there's ever a romance, i only very casually mention sexual shit. It's worse when someone's whole piece seems to revolve around getting high/drunk and shit though
I wrote a short, edgy poem about the sea and glass bottles.
I'm currently writing an equally as terrible short romance story about a mulatto named Turtledove and the white man who falls in love with her.
depends on what you define as an "edge-lord story"
some people consider anything even remotely outside of standard political or social values to be edgy
edgy is so overused it is basically meaningless, don't let the thought of someone calling you "edgy" discourage you from writing something
It ended as it had started. The Roman Emperor Titus Mede II was born on the night of May 15th. The date of his birth isn’t important when compared to the events that transpired over the course of that unforgettable night. The unbearable screams of a women filled the chamber with absolute panic. The nurses tried to soak up all the blood but the destruction to the mother’s body had already done its damage on her life. The baby came screaming out of the corpse of the mother’s dead womb looking for comfort but found none from the horrified nurses. The future emperor was left to soak in the blood of his dead mother while he cursed the heavens with his newly birthed lungs. The father, when he heard word of his wife’s fate, flung himself from a guard tower. His sorrowful cries could be heard all the way until his body met the ground. The young heir to the throne had no one, even death itself didn’t want to take the child. Thus, Titus Mede the Second grew up in the company of ill-bred advisers who cared only for themselves. The boy was taught no morals nor showed any compassion except the granting of all his misinformed wishes. The young emperor grew into a cold heartless man with a lust only for power and an outlet to release the demons that grew within him. Wars across the prairies and meadows were commenced. Death was the only thing that followed Titus and his men as they marched across Europe raping women, slaughtering children, and feasting upon limbs of their own fallen enemies. Titus was feared by everyone in his vast empire, feared but never loved. His advisers, the very men who had raised this monster into an ultimate weapon of destruction no longer had any use for him now that all the realms enemies were decimated. They gathered upon Titus like creatures in the same chamber were he had entered the world. The blood sucking creatures penetrated his skin with hell fire daggers, and tore the beating heart from his chest leaving him to choke on his own blood. The grins of his yes men were the last thing he saw before his body was thrown away to rot in the city gutters. It ended for Titus as it had started – alone.
>Does that automatically put it in the shit category?
I think it is still hard to say. For example, if you wanted to write about something like the Holocaust you could end up with a good story even if you wanted to write from a Nazi perspective as long as it's executed properly.
I'm having a hard time explaining it, but maybe you get what I mean. Like if you wanted to put the reader into the head of a Nazi and show the mental gymnastics they used to dehumanize the Jews it could be fine (I think I'm not doing a good job conveying what I mean)
I hope you sort of understand
but then if you want to write some /pol/ tier historical fiction about how the Nazis were so good and the story just revolves around killing Jews then it is pure shit.
I guess maybe you need to have a kind of solemn attitude overall. Then you could juxtapose with a Nazi's attitude towards the events to overall make it seem even more sick.
Great prose would also help a lot.
Although the first idea style might not even be consider "undeniably edgy" but rather a realist view on terrible events from the point of view of someone perpetuating such events.
I hope I made sense.
Furry trash romance thing. Not much to it other than that - has some underlying themes regarding sexuality, friendship, and the importance of sex between friends. Things like that.
Didn't get too far in it as I get distracted too easily, and I generally put things off and can't commit.
I'm writing a short story about a man who hears a Regina Spektor song and believes that the lyrics are written about him; he is convinced that she followed him and was motivated by his inability to edit his writing, to write the song. He encounters her--or a woman who resembles her-- and emphatically asks what she meant in writing the part of the song that suggests she knows why he cannot edit. He is prevented from receiving an answer from the man she is with and as a result, he devotes himself to eradicating the man so that he would not be again disturbed upon asking her.
It's all for fun but I am not ashamed to admit that within me is the hope that it will someday be published, win the attention of Regina Spektor who would then naturally be obliged to offer me her hand.
Breath on the snow
Dance in spirals softly in the undertow
that draws me inside to swirl with fear
in your unseen arms, sobbing in tears that no-one knows.
Such a comely breath makes me see the flow
of your eyes through my rose
on the glowy white snow.
To wait is to rot,
and when the iceflowers die, even your breath
It's so strange to be gone but still breathe with me
ghosts of touches and love.
You want to scream on my inside,
rabid howls of despair,
I feel you want to go free,
but your breath is all I've left
from you and I can't let it not be me
And when even that leabes
all I'll do is wait until the point you let go.
Can't believe how sweet your kiss of love was,
how short was that look of yours,
how strange is to be anything at all.
Btw, I'm not English native so pls tell me also if my English is ok and where did I make mistakes. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you.
I havent read much poetry, but it seems good. Although the rhythm seems to change halfways through. It;s especially noticeable because the first like 5 lines rhyme, and then none of the rest does, which doesn't work.
>you want to scream on my inside
not sure what this is meant to mean, but it doesnt make sense
Overall, I liked it though
Thank you very much! Yep, there was leaves. And "You scream on my inside" was a sort of play on the "I scream on the inside." only that it is not me the one who screams, but the the other person, continuing the idea of the memory of the loved one preserved in one's lungs and exhaled when needed love.
Thank you. As a non-native I find wording sometimes a bit tricky. I tend to go over the top and this is something I still have to work with. I appreciate your feedback! Now it's time to improve myself.
>the unbearable screams
>the corpse of the mother's dead womb
>the father...flung himself from a guard tower
this nigga just straight up killed himself right after hearing about his dead wife? Yeah I don't think so.
I'm not even going to go through the rest of it. Way too many cliches.
Yeah that sounds about right.
If your goal is to upset and offend people then it is bad and probably has no substance.
If you substance is what causes people to become upset or offended and this was expected, but not the goal, then it is fine.