For around a month now I have been living in a cabin outside

I would like to read it. I'm sure part of /lit/ will shit all over you for romantically following your dreams but personally I wish I had the means and honestly the cojones to do something like it myself. Good luck anon.

Sure

Just don't sell out to the publishers man, Norwegian publishing always makes you change a lot of shit.

Gjor Hamsun stolt din dumme jævel

>>8388427
I am in love with a woman from that country but I will probably never see her again.

Okay OP here. I wasn't expecting anybody to reply so soon. Here's my excerpt:

/1/

Through the shadows which darkened the valley before dawn, through the dense pine forest which dominated the plain between the steep valley sides, and through a heavy rain which beat down from dense grey clouds which smothered the horizon and drove wild animals to sit wide-eyed and panting in their homes among the roots, a small white bus made its way along a narrow unpaved road, its headlights barely penetrating the darkness ahead. Aboard this bus sat seven men, five of whom were asleep as one of the vehicle's front wheels dipped momentarily into a hole amid the damp earth. The driver sat with his wrists resting above the steering wheel, his blue flannel shirt catching occasional drops of the snus he was chewing. Quietly he hummed a song as the bus dipped and ascended and struggled on its way. The driver was familiar with this region, having lived most of his life in the small town of Åsenfjord several kilometers away, though not for over decade had anybody asked him to drive them through the surrounding wilderness towards a place which few maps cared to display any longer.
____The men had arrived in Åsenfjord the previous day, their long coats hemmed with dry earth. Their postures were stooped by the luggage they carried, and through the mist which often lingered all day during the winter the townspeople watched them in silence from behind net curtains and through the shop windows of the short highstreet. Seven men. Seven strangers. Seven beds requested at the local inn whose landlord reacted to their arrival with both gratitude and suspicion. No tourists were expected in the region at this time of the year, when the trees were stripped of their foliage and the land lay dark and miserable with damp. The following morning they had gone, leaving so early that the landlord's weary and suspicious eyes were now the only one's to watch them depart.
____Another passenger sat awake inside the bus. At a window seat in the back row, Magnus sat with his arms around the backpack on his lap. Wiping the sleeve once more across the window, he looked out but saw very little but the silhouettes of surrounding trees. Across the aisle to his left, Alexander Bjornkvist lay with his legs up on the empty seat beside him and producing a loud and guttural snore. Magnus leaned over, though not to wake the sleeping passenger. Instead he turned his face towards the back window in an attempt to estimate the distance he had traveled along this secluded and unused road. But as expected it was as though a black veil had descended across the window, and even the rear lights bled only a few feet into the darkness behind them. Turning ahead, towards the front of the bus, he could only make out the vague grooves in the earth along which the wheels of the bus were travelling. In the rear-view mirror the eyes of the driver met his own, though Magnus was not aware that his humming had stopped.

kill yourself

>people are still falling for this memelord liar

>>8388488
There are certain publishers I respect a great deal, and would be honored to be published by. Yesterday evening I attended a barbecue with Anna attended by local residents, and one of them was a former editor at Gyldendal and for much of the night he and I sat talking about recent Norwegian authors (Johan Harstad etc) and about Knausgård and about other things he knew less about (alt-lit included). He told me his views about how the publishing world is changing (for the worst in his opinion) and wished me luck in what I was doing (spending a year by myself). He said to go by his house with any stories or manuscripts I had, but warned me to take my time about things. Later on we agreed to trade some books, or in other words he invited me to visit his home and have dinner with his wife and himself and to take a look at his personal library with the promise that I bring him one or two contemporary books he may not have heard about. I was also unaware of the number of grants and stipends available to aspiring writers, though he kindly explained them to me at great length and even suggested he could help me out should I need more time to write beyond this single year. The thirty-something bi-polar son of a local woman ruined the party somewhat however by becoming extremely drunk and smashing a car window with a stone, and after that the party gradually ended.

>tfw OP is visible in the top-right of the photo

>>8388427
>plastics in nature
SHIGGY

>>8388497
You don't have to describe everything. It's pretty decent, but stop worrying so much about unnecessary details like the colour and fabric of his shirt. In the sentence where you describe it, I liked the inclusion of the snus chewing, but "blue flannel" didn't need to be said.

>>8388611
But what if the flannel was blue? It would be a travesty if the reader formed a mental image in which the driver was wearing a bright orange flannel. It would distort things completely.

>>8388619
Bring it up later if it's so important, the description is too crammed.

>>8388624
I appreciate your response, honestly. There was far more detail in this initial passage before but I edited it a great detail and removed some thousand words or so. I realize my tendency is to go into great detail, and at times I feel it is unavoidable. My first chapter, which I have completed, is currently 25,000 words in length.

>>8388631
Maybe you should take Knausgaards balls out of your mouth for one minute and stop being such a try-hard faggot.

>>8388631
It's hard not to go into extreme detail, I blame the way schools teach creative writing. Besides reading, the best way you can improve is by studying your own writing style and consciously improving it until you really like it, then practising until it flows naturally.

>>8388427

complete this sentence: I am a dirty normie and I should get ___

>>8388497
Way overwritten. Also try to make sure every sentence is active (as in vs. passive)

>>8388619
Also you should know that good writers allow the reader to cowrite most of the book.