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Rules: No posting unless you've already critiqued a work

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Rules:

No posting unless you've already critiqued a work (except for the first post, obviously).

READ WHAT YOU WROTE OUT LOUD BEFORE YOU POST IT
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What's the best thing that's ever been posted in one of these threads?
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>>7460608
it's copyrighted now, friend
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Another chapter from "Practice what you Peach", about a peach farmer who hates peaches.

In their latest adventure, Frank (the old peach farmer) and Mira (his fat wife) welcome their new neighbors with a very special gift...................
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>>7460837
That corny name had me ready for disappointment, but fuck man I smiled at the end.
That was entertaining.
>>
Opening shot. I PEEL the fuck out of the school parking lot in my cousins baby red 2001 Nissan GTR with pink neon lighting in the door panels and custom mufflers that make loud whistling noises. A rap song that samples police sirens and news reporters covering the 1992 LA riots rattles my icy-glazed windows with its hyphy bass waves. I hit a switch and my fresh hoopty physically flips up onto the curb and nosegrinds around the corner. Streaks of iridescent light fly out of the discoball I installed in place of the speedometer and ricochet off my wraparoud oakleys like fiery sparks off a welder's helmet. The primal subsonics from the bass speakers in the trunk pump wave after wave of testosterone directly into my brain zone, inflating my inner being to enormous proportions until I feel ready to explode and take a dozen city blocks with me. My name is Sasuke Toyota, the number one top rod racer at Nu-Kobe highschool e403, and this is the story of how I became the most powerful Rap wizard in Squidworld.

As im in the middle of my fourth donut around the principal's car, I hear an automobile horn's double-tap honk coming from the alley behind me. I quickly grasp the emergency break and tokyo drift 180 degrees in place, ready to face the offender. Much to my pleasant surprise, it was just Jarmal Jackson Johnson Jefferson Johnson, Jr. – or 6J for short – my loyal number two man friend though every rod race that I can remember, and also he's black.
“Pullin' phat D's on the big P's galopy? That's word, my brother.” exclaimed 6J, twisting his fingers to indicate West coast.
“Shit 6J, I know cash rules everything around me” I reply.
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>>7460863
Thanks man.

I edited a little and reposted, see >>7460855
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Another short exercise. This might be the beginning of a novel or something. What do you think? How's the flow, the character-creation? Will give a critique in a moment. Will also try and give one to anyone who replies.

======

The simplicity of hate: One sugary drink, and that's all it takes.

She hadn't ordered it, I think, to offend me personally. She hadn't ordered it because she knew, somehow, of my distaste for the Caramel Latte Grande (and all its other, sugary sizes, by the way).

But as my parents had never tired of reminding me whenever they themselves ordered a sugar-free coke, a "fat-free" vanilla, or a zero-caffeine espresso, I was being childish.
This was a fact. A fact of the grown-up world in which I had, for years now, been expected to participate.
Do not presume, boy, that your tired deconstructions of institutionalized, capitalist behavior will have any effect in the world outside of academia. It might get the occasional chuckle in the same way we might laugh at a child throwing food.
But no one cares about Jameson. Certainly no one gives a fuck about Eagleton. Finish your coffee, shut up. Hopefully get a job.

I was to stop hounding people for their poor choices as consumers. I was to let people order whatever the hell they wanted. I was to stop being a cynical infant. (This was my father—to me at 19.)

I know now that he was right. Just as I was then, in that mid-western Starbucks, to stop looking at Catherine with my usual disdain for anyone—man or woman—who would ever drink from a straw. Why would someone do that? A pretty woman as her (hair in a bun; long, horse-like teeth)—she could never recover from that ridiculous, puckery look.

How I hated her then. But how I tried not to.
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>>7460855
Funny, especially the last bit. You can definitely come up with a better title though.

There are some issues with the telling in the beginning. We're getting way too much information, some of it redundant.

>filled with boxes
Why are you mentioning this? If it's filled with boxes, we expect to be offered a hint at a reason you're telling us such a weird detail. We can't wait that long for an explanation—the detail is simply too odd for that. We're wondering what exactly we're being told. Are they moving out? Moving in?

>a young, tall man in overalls
These details feel so general. If he's tall, so what? We see the relevance of youth, but it's also very general. Give us a detail to make it clear.
>A tall man in overalls opened the door. He was young, smooth-skinned. [or something like that]

>young man and his young wife who walked up from the kitchen
We get it, but we don't really get it. Who is thinking this? The wife? Make that clearer.
>young man and his even younger wife with the puckery tits

Constantly calling them "young woman" and "young man" is cluttering. It also ruins the joke of the old couple being resentful towards them for their youth. I think it would work better if you found another pronoun.

But as I said, it's pretty funny, it just needs some cleaning up.
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>>7460970

your, i think, placement of, somehow, commas as parenthetical elements is complete, that retards, bullshit
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>>7460855
why is the dialogue indented?
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>>7460999
Thank you for your input, anon. Have a wonderful day.
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>>7461004

you're welcome, now post more
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>>7460970
is this pasta?
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>>7461033
No, though I see what you mean. Any notes?
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>>7460998
>Are they moving out? Moving in?
Mira says the pie's a welcome gift.
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>>7460855
Is there any reason you keep talking about smoking or do you just think its a cool image? if the latter its honestly a shit cliche and not really true anymore
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>>7461055
Right, I know. I guess I wasn't clear:

Since you've already said they're moving, mentioning the boxes seems redundant (unless you're going to use them for something else, like a vivid description of the room, or as a later element in the chapter).
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>>7460998
The boxes are because they're moving in, see >>7461055
And I like being general in descriptions. Bunch of reasons.

Could lose a few of the "youngs" though, that's true.

>>7461077
The boxes come first, then Mira says "as a welcome".

>>7461060
He's old and he smokes.
People who smoke tend to be smoking often.
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>>7461082
Keep the boxes then, your prerogative. But any disciplined editor will make you choose between one way of saying they've recently moved in, or the other. Both are unnecessary.
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>>7461085
(As in, Having both is unnecessary*)
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>>7461085
The boxes come up again a little later on. And the reason for the pie also needs to be given.
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>>7461093
Ok, fair enough.

I'm pretty bad at explaining this kind of thing, let me try again.

The sentence is:
>A young, tall man in overalls opened the door to a living room filled with boxes.

Our immediate reaction: What kind of boxes? Just normal "boxes"? Why is he telling us there are boxes?

This disorientation might be done on purpose on your part, but it's disorienting because it looks like a blunder—as if you've simply forgotten to give us a piece of information.

So, if you need to mention them for plot, don't do away with the boxes, just recast the sentence so that, for now at least, we see a purpose with what we're being told:

>A young, tall man in overalls opened the door to a living room filled with various furniture, rolled-up carpets, and half-empty boxes.

It doesn't have to be that sentence (obviously, since it's not a very good one). It's just one way of giving the sentence a purpose. Now the boxes are there to paint a picture of people moving in, and we don't question whether you've made a blunder as a writer.

Make sense? I'm not trying to be a cunt here, just trying to help.
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>>7461117
I get that you might have gotten the wrong impression. I might change it up a little, I just finished this.

I switched the introductions to the very beginning btw, so I don't have to use "young man/wife" to distinguish from the old couple.
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What is this "dashes for dialogue" meme? Why do so many of you just make a line break and go

instead of using quotation marks like normal English speakers? Did you just read Bolaño for the first time and decide to be just like him?
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>>7461457
With dashes, you can show that someone else is speaking without having to write "X said" all the time.
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>>7461117
It should be:
"A tall young man in overalls etc etc"
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>>7461457
>What is this "dashes for dialogue" meme?
>meme
>mfw

amerifat from podunk, flyover state detected.
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>>7461457
William Gaddis does this too.

I'm 50/50 on it. Don't give a toss either way.
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>>7461466
"You can do the same with line breaks, nincompoop."
"Sorry, anon, I'm weetawded"
"Obviously, fuck off"
"hurr durr durrr"
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>>7461481
You're getting way too worked up about one of the least important things in literature.
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I posted this in the last one, got criticized for "shifting between perspectives" and not being clear with what is dialogue. I thought I was being pretty systematic about it.

(1/2)
Dick waits in front of Marge's door. Shit, it's a bit earlier than he thought. Fifteen minutes early. Ass! What a toolish first impression he would make, ringing the doorbell now. The very thought of this makes Dick nauseous, and he considers stepping back from the door. It would be easier just to wait in the car.
Except the door opens and Marge appears! Ah, Dick is happy to see her again. The nausea disappears right from him. Dick gets that tingling, paranoid feeling that he gets when he's around girls that he thinks just-might-be-the-one.
“Watcha doing waiting out here?” She smiles warmly, “I don't bite!”
Ha ha. Dick laughs, and this helps him relax some. Marge had a sharp eye, pointing out how much, standing there like a big idiot, he had probably looked like he was afraid she would bite him. Score one for Marge. She's a sharp one. May he come in?
“Of course, of course,” she says, opening the door the whole way now, allowing Dick, as he steps in, to see the foyer of the house in its entirety. “I've got dinner cooking in the other room. It'll be another fifteen minutes or so.”
Fifteen minutes. Coincidence much? Dick takes this as a personal attack. Clearly, he had inconvenienced this busy woman by showing up so early. Alas, it looks like he would be playing from behind the rest of the night; he would have to turn the charm on big time. This in mind, he turns to one of the paintings featuring prominently in the entrance way. Perhaps Dick can impress Marge with his artistic insight.
The painting is a dark, oily number whose subject appears to be a pile of fruits and cheeses, for which, when he searches in his brain to find a properly evocative phrase, Dick can only produce “bad-tasting-looking,” a dumb-as-fuck useless thought which he keeps to himself. Instead, he turns to Marge and asks about the other thing that he had found so striking about the piece that he couldn't quite shake. Dick hopes she doesn't mind his asking, but why is it that this painting has a large gash on its right side and a thorough drizzling of dark red paint that doesn't seem to match the color scheme or apparent artistic intent of the original work?
Yikes, wow. Had he really said that? It seems so rude, not even a question about the piece, as he intended, but a scolding about the un-ship-shapenness of Marge's front hall. Dick feels horrible, but Marge takes it like a champ.
“Oh that? Funny story about the red paint and the gash. It is not red paint at all! You see, Dick: that is pasta sauce, plain and simple. Nothing less, nothing more. In an earlier stage of cooking today, I was making some of my grandmother's famous Italian red sauce. While I was at it, someone began to knock on the door...
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>>7461468
True. I was just focusing on the other issue.
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>>7461457
First of all, it's not a meme, it's an established grammatical style that great writers have used and continue to use.
Second of all—in my experience, it just suits my own style of writing better. It's about flow. Like >>7461466 said, you don't have to write X/Y/whoever said, which makes certain passages much smoother. It provides a clear separation between dialogue and narration without any verbal stumbling blocks, and it feels a bit more like being spoken too: more direct, really. If you just have the dashes followed right away by the dialogue, which is how I do it, it can become difficult to identify the speaker, but I think the advantages are well worth that extra bit of difficulty for the reader—and besides, knowing that forces you to characterize a little bit more heavily.
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>>7461486
jk 2/3

...When I answered the door, aproned and carrying the pasta sauce pot on my hip, I saw that it was a boy scout selling popcorn for the local troop (Troop 190, that is--bless their hearts). Now, from our extensive conversation at the bar the other night, you should know that I find boy scout uniforms to be very cute. So cute, in fact, that when I laid my eyes upon this one, I threw my hands back--yes, Dick. I see that glimmer of recognition in your eyes; you know what happens next--in such an expression of joy and surprise that the wooden spoon I was holding goes flying from my hand, spraying sauce everywhere, and lands, unfortunately, on the delicate fabric of this expensive painting, thereby causing a big gash and some sauce dots! Mystery solved. Are you happy now?”
No, Dick was not happy. In fact, he felt like a big idiot. How could he not have put that together himself? First of all, he could smell the sauce simmering in the kitchen, so that should have clued him in (or at least he thinks that it is sauce. The scent is tough to identify). Secondly--and this is the big duh in Dick's mind--he should have remembered that thing Marge had said about boy scout uniforms (although the precise memory eludes him). With these two bits of info in mind, the story practically tells itself. He should should have just assumed an answer instead of opening his big dumb mouth like a dumb shitty guest. Speaking of which: Oh. Ha ha ha. Of course. That's a wild story, Margie.
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>>7461481
The effect of quotation marks is still somehow less pleasing to the eye.
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>>7461492
(3/3)
Dick feels a twang of discomfort at having so boldly gone forward with establishing a nickname this early in the relationship. Despite this, he continues. Well, you seem to have managed to clean up all the rest of the sauce very well. Hmm, Perhaps we could move this party into the kitchen now, see what grub we've got in store for us?
Yes, thinks Dick to himself, Ensnare her with your wily charm.
“After you, Dick-o.” she says, gesturing away from the kitchen and toward the living room.
Well, needless to say, all of his worries about the nickname thing are in the past. Sorta weird that they are heading for the living room, considering what Dick said about grub, but that doesn't matter, because Dick is thinking to himself now: holy cow! Did you see the way she just nicknamed me right back?
A couple of things immediately strike Dick as he walks into the living room, not the least of which being what Dick takes to be the real victim of the pasta sauce disaster: the rug, which, unfortunately for Marge, has a very large red pasta stain on it. Although he trusts that Marge is telling the truth, Dick feels it would be unwise not to consider that this stain, so little resembling any ragu he recognized, may actually be blood. Okay, a spooky thought for sure. Dick, in an effort to be fair, asks only about a point of interest as-of-yet unexplained by Marge: namely, the disarrayed and disheveled furniture, covered in red sauce, which smack, even to Dick's untrained senses, of recent conflict and violent struggle. Hey Margie, what's up with this whole situation? Is this some sort of haunted house vis-a-vis Halloween?
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>>7461486
The middle of the passage is funny, but the opening, as he waits outside the door, could be made much stronger. The sentences there aren't smooth enough to read naturally or abrupt enough to create the jagged, off-beat effect that it seems like you were going for. Try reading it out loud and pay more attention to rhythm. Treat it like a composition for percussion—try quick, staggered statements followed by sentences that might run on just a little too long. Keep the reader off-center.
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From a larger project that I'm writing about (mostly Jewish) art-kids growing up in gentrified New York City.
I'm not sure whether to keep this passage, heavily edit it, or trash it entirely. It feels exhausting to read—which was the intended effect to some extent, but...
http://pastebin.com/5Vnm6mZG
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>>7461501
thanks anon that's good advice
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>>7461552
You're welcome!
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>>7461049
Sorry don't mean to insult I just could've sworn I'd seen something similar a long time ago somewhere else.
>>7460970
Here, I'll try at an honest crit:
I find myself curious if you, the actual author, ever felt the way this character does at some point. I ask because, even though his reflection seems supposed to be self deprecating, (he admits his dad was right) the old hateful opinions are still presented with a kind of esteem.
"tired deconstructions of institutionalized, capitalist behavior" - Not just dry, but smug too. It's as though even while admitting he was wrong he's simultaneously showing off.
Same goes for the Eagleton and Jameson name checks.
The character is admitting he was unlikeable, and I STILL think he is. It all smacks of some blind, ongoing, semi-self aware, hypocrisy.

But of course, that's mostly just personal opinion. For all I know that impression could be right in line with the kind of character you want to make.
I'm still have a lot to learn myself when it comes to raw technique, but even I can say that your use of commas is painful.
General note: Use fewer of them.
More specifically:
>institutionalized,
Not needed at all
>, somehow,
Parenthetical commas are always necessarily bad, but you do tend to abuse them.

I also won't pretend to understand your use of dashes at all:
> teeth)--she
> father--to
>--man or woman--
Three different functions, none of them entirely necessary. Especially seeing as that last example could easily be parenthetical commas instead, which is something you've already been picked on for in this thread.
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>>7461486
>>7461492
>>7461495
Very funny. Is it me or is the cursing a little out of character for him? It feels like he would swear, sure, but only if he was extremely rattled. I wonder if it could be used for more explosive effect.

I feel as if words like 'spooky' might also be slightly too colloquial for him. Just a thought.
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>>7461526
I kinda like the chaos in this, gives me a feeling of disillusionment. Maybe some slight Less Than Zero - Bret Easton Ellis cynical atmosphere in this. The dialogue kind of drags on though. Maybe that's the point though.
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>>7461612
Yeah, it's meant to evoke hanging out in these shitty parks with shitty drinks for a little too long. I'm just worried that it's a bit gratuitous.
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>>7461604

Thanks for critiquing.

>It all smacks of some blind, ongoing, semi-self aware, hypocrisy.
Pretty much what I was going for. The character is trying to distance himself from his young student self without entirely being able to. He's trying to grow up; the name checks and the showing off is meant to suggest that he's still reluctant.

Omitting the comma in
>institutionalized,
involves a shift in meaning. It's not a compound noun as in
>institutionalized capitalist behavior
instead it's
>institutionalized AND capitalist behavior
which is replaceable with a comma. You might think it's painful, which is fair enough, but it isn't wrong.

>Parenthetical commas are always necessarily bad, but you do tend to abuse them.
Is this some sort of rule?
I honestly didn't know. I used it as a style choice. It's a quirk of the character (because he's a pretentious cunt, pretty much), which the other anon who made fun of me didn't really seem to get. Maybe it's unclear?

The dashes in
—man or woman—
are unnecessary, true. It's just to aid the reader, because we're already in an independent clause which has been introduced by a dependent clause.

An em-dash is usually meant to introduce a break in the line of thought or sentence, so in the last case, I think it's justified.

Anyway, I know I'm not expected to defend myself, I'm just explaining the choices. Thanks for the advice, I'll keep them in mind.

One question: Did you find it funny at all?
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>>7461640
>Parenthetical commas are always necessarily bad, but you do tend to abuse them.
Shit man no! I meant to say they aren't***
You can totally use them, just don't abuse them. (Which you seem close to doing, though this isn't really enough of a sample to make that judgement)

Also good point, the comma on institutionalized may stand. Sorry, I'm sleep deprived and can't really think straight right now.

No. I never really laughed. This kind of character is something I feel like I've been seeing in one form or another since highschool. For me, his cuntiness felt juvinile and made all his insults impossible to savor. But that's really just me.
Generally, you should keep in mind all the classic pitfalls of focusing on an unlikable character.
>>
>>7461713
>For me, his cuntiness felt juvinile and made all his insults impossible to savor.

>Generally, you should keep in mind all the classic pitfalls of focusing on an unlikable character.

Very good points. I imagine these pitfalls are a lack of sympathy/identification, and a diminishing ability to really make the reader laugh. If the character's a cynic, we tend not to follow him very far. Thanks for the pointers.
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>>7461775
>we tend not to follow him very far
You're gonna be alright man.
>>
More from the same project.

(1/3)

Zayd? Yeah, I’d consider him a friend. Man, he’s a difficult guy to be around. Fuck it, though—I’ve known him since before middle school. Dude called himself Ezra back then—don’t tell him I told you, though. A lot of shit was different back then. Yo, Metrocards were two bucks when we started middle school. Can you believe that shit? Fuck, what I’d give to ride the subway for two bucks again...

— would ye give... two bucks?

— pfffHHahhahhaHHHHAaa HA!

Aw, shut up, man.

*

Here is Altan Zayd once more, standing outside Strauss Arts, close enough for friends to see him as they leave, but at an oblique angle designed to ensure that he won’t be seen by the security guard, pacing back and forth. He is a little bit disappointed that Eddy wasn’t on duty for the front desk today, but hey—you win some, you lose some, right? Beside him stand two freshmen, both of them huge fans of Arson Club. Neither one of them has heard Arson Club, but they’re still fans.

*

I was a loner at first.

— yeah yeah we remember you sophomore year you dont have to

Yo, this is way back, though.

*

Zayd, here outside Strauss Arts, two freshman at his side, slowly pulls a slim sheet of paper out of his army-jacket pocket. He glances to his left, to his right, then tears it in half. Turning his head down, he takes one half and scatters clumps of green all across its length in a neater line than he will ever bother to mark on paper. He rolls the paper, making sure that it is satisfactorily tight, and shoves it in his mouth. The freshmen look on.
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>>7461794

(2/3)

My dad wanted me to know like five or six people by the first week, like have really good friends right off the bat or some shit. I dunno why. Maybe he was the same way at that age. Not implausible, you know? Some families got hemophilia—the Takahata line’s affliction is to be a bunch of big ol’ losers.

— yeah
exactly
thats exactly right

... Heh. Anyway, my dad was really well off then. We’d eat out in the LES like almost every other night. Of course, this was before he got married again, and it was mostly cheap-ass shit, but still, yo. Our apartment was also apparently real cheap or something, like

— rent stabilized?

Yeah, yeah, that’s what it was.

— yeah

It was real disgusting, though, like

— yr landlord was definitely just trynna get you out. y’know how much LES rent is now?

Yeah, I walked by again recently, and the shit’s going for four-K. Like yo—what spoiled NYU kid gonna pay for that? Anyway, if that’s what he was trying to do, he did a good fuckin’ job—we ditched that place the next year. Couldn’t cook in it, refrigerator was a big block of ice, everything so filthy a fucking LES cleaning lady was scared away from that place. When we left that place, there was two decade-old bourbon just encased in ice. I think my dad and his spouse shared it—in honor of the move, y’feel?

Anyway—my dad was real well off, so we met outside this shitty-ass overpriced burrito bar after like the second or third day and

— jorges?

Yeah, shit’s gone now. Good riddance.

— i liked jorges man

More power to you. Anyway, he was like—you know anyone?

— yr pops a fuckin bouncer bro

Heh. Anyway, he just asked if I knew anyone, and I was just like—yeah, Dan Rosario, Mike Mechanic, Nina Ramirez... Anna Utkin... Levi Hubrecht... Ezra Zaïd...

He was like—great, yo. Get to know these people a bit better—middle school don’t mean much academically and all, but you’ll really become you through other people sometime soon.

It was real convenient for me, since most of these people lived in either Stuy Town or Baruch Houses. Gave me two real centers of gravity through middle school, tugging on either side of the LES. A year later, we started drinking, smoking, everything...

— ...
...
drinking ‘n’... driving?

...
... Yeah, man, fuck you.
>>
>>7461800

(3/3)

As the page burns and sweet ivory clouds ascend from both ends, one of the freshmen catches a glance at its contents.

EZRA ZAÏD
SPRING 2014—MARKING PERIOD II
ENGLISH III: 70
TRIGONOMETRY: 58
...

The paper burns faster than any of those present were expecting, burning Zayd’s lip. He lets out a slight chuckle.

— Trynna smoke paper, yo. I’m the smartest little boy of 2014.

— ... Ezra Zaïd? Who’s that?

— ...
...
... My brother, yo.

*

on the way home these kids were on the whole subway routine like put down boom box grab pole kick y’in the face git money shekel shekel stay blunted aight? i knew the song they were playing but i had my own headphones on. wasnt listening to anything but kept em on anyway. song was a bit muffled through em but nice to hear anyway.
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>>7461794
>>7461800
>>7461805
Where exactly are you going with this story?
I live in the Lower East Side, I know people from Stuy Town and Baruch houses, and I have to say the only thing I'm feeling after reading these three posts is the same grimacing annoyance that I feel whenever I actually see stoned middle-schoolers hanging around.
>>
>>7461892
It's sorta tracing the growth and decline of the (usually lower-)Manhattan pseudo-artist types.
>>
>>7461946
Good luck making sickening levels of white guilt and privilege compelling
>>
>>7460874

Dope.
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>>7461784
Is that sarcastic?
>>
>>7462146
no dude. You knew what the most important pitfall were without me explaining.
Das is gudt.
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>>7462197
Oh, I see. Sincerity/sarcasm is hard to differentiate on ze interwebs. Thanks.
>>
>>7460874
Rad.
I'm not into anime though, so that part kinda sunk it.

You wrote "though every rod race", should be "thRough" probably.

And "jalopy" is with a j.
Unless there's some obscure spelling I didn't know about.
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>>7461060
I really like this one, the alteration in the names, the way the characters act and speak.
>tactically checked the handles of his waxes moustache
>pelt the elevator below gleefully with pocket change
I really like this.


This is something I just wrote now. Moved is yellow because it should either be 'shook' or 'shaken', just not sure of the grammar.
>>
>>7460874
this is great. i want to read more.

>>7460970
your prose is too affected.
>>
The fire continued to crack and pop in the green drum we circled, giving the light wind that blew in from the ocean behind us the intoxicating scent of burnt wood. Every so often the fire would stir and produce a whirl of red embers; Enzo, Marie, or someone else would jab it with a long stick, or throw in another log, and it would spit it up brilliantly against the black sky. Our voices grew gradually louder and then softer, in intervals like that of the waves crashing against the shore we sat on, a sound that, with the hours we had now spent at the beach, had become something like an ambient soundtrack to the arbitrary subjects of our drunken conversation
>>
File: 1430019935351.png (23KB, 800x721px) Image search: [Google]
1430019935351.png
23KB, 800x721px
How I see it is that the future holds three options, barring such intrusions such as war, famine, or both in tandem: remain alone and continue a spiral of ever increasing alcohol consumption that, with an utter contempt of the world and my condition in it, fuels some artistic outlet such as writing or painting; elope with some intellectually stimulating woman in an arms race of superiority complexes as we traverse the world and marvel at sights we find pleasing or want to appear to find pleasing, and perhaps while we do find that we enjoy the idea of company and the sexual liberation of never-a-dull-moment sex, our lives will be forever at odds as it is just two strangers trying to make the most out of some nothingness; or finally succumb to my socialization and settle for a pretty half-wit and produce one or two nuclear offspring who have no place in this world only to awaken one day, stricken with some unbearable grief that finally makes me say ‘Damn it all!’ and continue to begrudgingly force myself to take the role as provider until at last my youngest child reaches the age of 18 and I walk to the balcony, take out a thin razor-wire rope, and hang myself. All of which seem equally maddening and frivolous. If possible preference would be in descending order. Actually no, I would much prefer to have intercourse, so option two has some edge I suppose.

Is the picture accurate
>>
Beginning of a chapter I've been working on. Only got into writing recently and screenplays, etc. Tell me whats wrong with it or improvements please:

Andrew, who had begun delivering this sensible advice partly in order to make an impression on the ladies, was naturally somewhat perplexed when, upon concluding his remarks, he glanced at his hearer and observed on the latter's face an expression of undisguised mockery. This only lasted an instant, however. August at once began to thank Andrew, in particular for having made his visit to their hotel the night before.
>>
>>7465040
Either drop the "latter" or make the pair that it should be referring to clearer. Right now it only seems like you're talking about his one "hearer". Also let's talk about that fucking word choice. Are you trying deliberately trying to achieve a specific effect by not just using a more vanilla word like listener or audience? If not, don't. Being a special snowflake for no better reason than its own sake will only induce cringe in any reader over 16.
>>
>>7463482
Actually love this. Good job. Very accurately describes plenty of people, many of which I assume populate this board already.
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